#Chay's just like that would have been fucked up??

[the-cookie-of-doom]

Porchay: I was going to hold you for ransom

Kim: *heart eyes*

[skyburger]

WHAT THE HELL NOBODY EVER TOLD ME TWO OF MY FAVE VILLAGERS GOT A LINE STICKER TOGETHER. ive loved tabby for YEARS like since 2019 at LEAST. and these stickers are from 2018 how did i not know !!! i love tabby and boots so much 😭😭😭 TABBY AND BOOTS ANIMAL CROSSING I LOVE YOU SO MUCHHHHH OOMFS FOREVER AND EVER

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Conrad deserves better than Belly. After he sees Jere and her kiss, he get his ass to Stanford and meet this cute and smart maybe tutor girl (Haley James style) and falls in love with her and then they show up at Jere's wedding years later and Belly is jelly

I've spent the last five days working on this one.

p.s. it's 2k words...

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

When Conrad finished his exam, he went back to Jeremiah and Belly. He was going to tell and confess his love to her before she had to get home, but when he got to his car, the scene Conrad walked on made him sick to his stomach: Belly and Jeremiah were full on making out against his car. He stopped short of the car and cleared his throat, causing the two to spring apart from their heated kiss and see Conrad looking right at them. 

Conrad’s face was white. He would rather have had someone shoot him in the head with a nail gun, repeatedly, than have to watch the two of them kissing.

He didn't know who he was more angry at. Belly, who, not even a day ago, had told him she would have fought harder for him if she knew he loved her that much. Or Jeremiah, who, although he knew how much Belly meant to his brother and how fucking in love he was with her, seized the opportunity to kiss Belly the moment he was alone with her.

‘’Conrad—’’ Belly started, guilt settling in her guts. 

He cut her off, his voice cold and cutting. ‘’I don’t want to hear it.’’ 

His gaze shifted from Belly to Jeremiah. There was so much hate in his eyes. How could Jere do that to him? They agreed to stop hiding things from each other and talk, but Jeremiah must have forgotten already. 

‘’You broke up with her, Con, remember? We did nothing wrong,’’ Jeremiah said, pulling facts in his favor to make himself feel better — less guilty — for kissing his brother’s ex.  

When Conrad kissed Belly on the beach last summer, he didn’t know she and Jeremiah were a thing — if he could call it that — or that he liked her. If he had, he wouldn’t have kissed Belly or confessed his feelings to her. Had the situation had been in reverse, Conrad wasn’t sure Jeremiah would have backed off. 

‘’I’m done.’’ Conrad's voice was resolute, his heart heavy as he turned away, unable to bear the sight of them any longer.

Jeremiah moved to follow, calling out Conrad's name. He didn’t stop, needing to be as far as possible from the painful scene. His mind was racing with a jumble of emotions. Anger, betrayal, and a profound hurt gnawed at him. He had trusted both Belly and Jeremiah, yet they pulled this shit behind his back. 

‘’Why do you always have to act like that?’’ Jeremiah said as he quickened his pace to catch up. 

Finally, Conrad turned to face Jeremiah, his expression a mix of sorrow and resentment. ‘’You don’t get to tell me how to react, Jere. You kiss the girl I love outside my school, against my car while she’s wearing my sweatshirt. If you don’t see how disgusting and messed up it all sounds—’’

‘’She kissed me,’’ the younger one quickly defended. 

 Hearing this made him want to pack his bags, get his ass to stanford and focus on school. He needed to turn the Belly page, and in order to do that, he needed to be away from both she and Jeremiah. California seemed far enough, right?

*

The first days and weeks were tough for Conrad, struggling to accept the definite end of the relationship. She was still all over him like a wine-stained shirt he couldn’t wear anymore. 

He blocked both Belly and Jeremiah’ numbers. If he wanted to move on, he had to keep his distance from them. For a while, at least. Then, he deleted all the old pictures he kept of Belly on his phone. There was no going back for them anymore. 

He was done.

*

You met Conrad a little before Christmas break. Just like those cliché rom-coms, you walked right into him and spilled your chai latte all over his sweater. You wanted to break the cliché and not fall for the victim of your clumsiness, but after one look into those beautiful blue eyes, you knew it would be impossible. 

 After that day, you kept crossing paths around campus and, one afternoon, you asked him out. He was so surprised, but he said ‘yes’. 

Although you had sealed the end of the night with a few kisses, you decided to take things slow. You had a very busy schedule with the tutoring lessons on top of your regular program, and Conrad was unsure if it was too soon to get in another relationship, if he was ready for it. The scar Belly had left on his heart was healing, but was he ready to open his heart to someone again? 

‘’Have you ever been in love?’’ you asked one night in his dorm while studying. 

Your question had caught Conrad off guard. It was visible on his face. 

‘’Have you?’’ he returned, not taking his eyes off his textbook. 

He was trying to dodge the question. 

‘’I asked you first,’’ you said, seeing through his plan.

‘’Then yes.’’

‘’How many times?’’

‘’Once.’’

His answers were flat, annoyed he was by all your questions. He wished you would stop and get back to studying in silence, but you kept going. 

‘’On a scale of one to ten, how in love were you?’’

‘’You can’t put being in love on a scale,’’ he said, lifting his head with furrowed eyebrows. ‘’Either you are or you aren’t.’’

‘’But if you had to say.’’

Conrad started flipping through his notes. He hadn’t thought of Belly in months. He missed her — in a different way he used to. She was his friend before they got tangled into this mess.

He didn’t look at you when he finally said it. ‘’Ten.’’

*

The more time he spent in your presence, the more Conrad was — unknowingly — letting go of his past. 

The pictures he deleted months ago became pictures of you, filling his phone until there was no space left. The smell of your perfume lingered on some of his clothes and in his car. He had your coffee order memorized, along with your favorite study-break snack, which he made sure to have in stock in his dorm. 

You became part of his routine — part of his life —, brightening his days even on his darkest, saddest nights. 

He didn’t want to bother you, but nothing was calming the ache in his chest. He tried getting some air and smoking weed, he even thought of calling Laurel, but it was almost 2am in Pennsylvania. Conrad didn’t want to scare her. 

So he pulled up your contact and called, the weight of his grief still heavy in his heart, wishing Susannah was still there. He couldn't believe a full year had gone by since she took her last breath. 

You were about to slip into bed when you saw his name flashing on your phone. You almost didn’t pick up, but you got a gut feeling that he needed you. 

When you opened your door, a saddened look was etched onto Conrad's face, his beautiful eyes glistening with unshed tears. The sight pulled at your heart and you wrapped your arms around him, holding him for the whole night.

Supported each other through finals and all-nighters.

‘’Getting tired?’’ you said, catching him actively fighting against his own eyelids. 

Conrad shook his head, taking a long gulp of his coffee. ‘’No time for sleep. I have this huge exam first thing tomorrow and I still have a lot of chapters to cover.’’

‘’You can take a short nap if you want. I’ll wake you in thirty minutes,’’ you kindly offered, flipping through your notes for a specific annotation. 

‘’Nah, I’m good.’’ He flashed you a soft smile, then returned to his studying. 

A few minutes later, and you couldn't help but notice that Conrad's eyes had begun to droop. They would halfway close and then he would either blink a bunch of times, or widen his eyes until they were bug eyed. It was cute.

‘’Con? Conrad?’’ you called out gently. 

‘’I'm not sleeping. I'm resting my eyes,’’ he mumbled defensively, fighting fatigue.

There was no way he was getting through the night, so you put your notes down and slipped on Conrad’s flannel shirt that was on the back of your chair to shield you from the night air. ‘’We’re gonna need more coffee.’’ 

As you came back with two fresh cups of coffee, you found Conrad fast asleep on your pillow, still clutching his pen.

And held his hand through the rainiest times — literally.

‘’Isn't California supposed to be the sunniest state?’’ Conrad asked, watching the downpour through the windshield, drenched from head to toe. ‘’The seats are all wet...’’ 

‘’You gotta learn to live with the consequences of your own actions, Connie baby.’’ 

It was his idea to get waffles when the sky was looking very gray and angry. He insisted that it would clear out, but a loud clap of thunder echoed on your way back to the car and rain started pouring. You took the road back to campus, but it got too dangerous, forcing Conrad to stop the car on the shoulder of the road and wait for the rain to calm. 

You wiped your face with the sleeve of your hoodie and a smile curled on Conrad’s lips, still the most beautiful to his eyes despite your wet hair and the slight smear of mascara under your eyes. 

 ‘’Rain happens everywhere. Even in the dryest desert,’’ you reminded him, pulling out your phone to check the weather app.‘’Unfortunately, this one isn't gonna stop anytime soon.’’

You toed off your sneakers, making Conrad draw his eyebrows.

‘’What are you doing?’’

‘’We’re gonna be here for a while.’’ You peeled off your hoodie — also wet from the rain —, leaving you in your skirt and dainty bralette. ‘’Might as well occupy ourselves,’’ you explained before leaning over the middle console and kissing him, fastening yourself to him with a stitch. 

The kiss took him by surprise, but he wasn’t complaining. He could spend hours kissing you and never get bored. 

You crawled over the console and on Conrad’s lap without breaking contact, your hands easily finding grip on his hair as you felt his hands all over your body, caressing and pulling. The windows were fogging quickly around you, creating a veil of privacy as more layers were peeled off.

Conrad once believed he had found love, that Belly was it for him, but the feelings he felt back then were nothing compared to how he felt right now. 

‘’You’re the best thing that happened to me,’’ he confessed, his forehead pressed against yours. 

*

The invitation came in a few weeks before the wedding. Conrad couldn’t believe his brother was going through with this. Everything was happening so fast and seemed rushed. Him and Belly weren’t even twenty. Who gets married so young anymore? 

He arrived in Cousins a few days prior to the wedding, surprising everyone — and stealing the attention from the soon-to-be-weds — when they saw a girl with him. 

The only person who knew exactly who you were was Steven. A few months ago, you had posted a picture with Conrad at the beach and tagged him, leading to Steven finding out about his friend’s new girlfriend. He was surprised when he saw it, but very happy for Conrad. He deserved better than someone who plays between two hearts. 

Laurel put down the table-center she was holding and went over to pull Conrad in a hug. She turned to you, making quick introductions, and Conrad held his breath. He’s always been close to Laurel and her approval meant more to him than his father’s or Jeremiah’s. 

While the two of you engaged into a conversation, he saw her. Belly. Dressed in a white sundress and talking to Taylor, she looked just the same. The only difference was, Conrad felt nothing. No pain, no old feelings rising back. 

For the first time, what’s past was past.

‘’Belly, come greet Connie and his girlfriend,’’ Laurel called out to her daughter. 

Although you had never met her, you could tell exactly who she was in the room — and not only because her dress was white. The jealousy filling her eyes when they fell on you gave her away.

—

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade  @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn  @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713  @marzipaanz  @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart  @xyzstar  @graceberman3  @Heartsforneteyamsully  @aerangi  @hallecarey1  @bxbyyyjocelyn @mikeyspinkcup

TSITP taglist: @msmarvelknight  @maritaleane @dingus0401 @idontknowwhatimdoing777 @nomorespahgetti @lomlolivia @5sosbands @bloodyhw @depthsofdespairr @a-band-aid-for-your-heart @gilbertscurls @brandirouse86 @leilani-nichole @Veescorneroftheworld @papayaboyluvr  @bchindureyes @bellysbeach  @slytherinambitious @darylscvmdumpster  @johannelis2302nely  @aqshua @foockingasshole @straberryshortcake143 @luiise

[teaspacebar]

spiced chai

pairing: carmen "carmy" berzatto x reader

summary: you've been living in chicago for about a year, and you're suddenly managing the coffee shop in the well beloved bookstore, nan's. you meet carmen berzatto on a not-so-good day. you're thrust into the everchanging societal landscape that is making friends in your 20s..

word count: ~9.7k

warnings: language, depictions of mental illness, barista!reader, afab!reader (but tried to be as neutral as possible), neurodivergent!reader, they don't kiss, could be read as platonic tbh but there's crumbs in there if you look, takes place over the course of a few months, probably doesn't follow canon fully (i'm not caught up yet forgive me)

a/n: *dumps this here and runs* but actually this piece of writing appeared in my brain and i've been picking away at it for a couple of months. i feel like i've put more of myself into this fic than with anything else i've written, so this is definitely more of a self insert (pls be kind or don't read if that's not your vibe). i'm queer, non-binary, and autistic and i just wanted to insert that into this space. i feel like there's more to explore here, so i might write more for this if i feel so inclined.

Meeting Carmen Berzatto was not on your to-do list for Tuesday morning.

Not that having to run down to the nearest corner store to grab milk - since the milk fridge was on the fritz…again - at 4am was in your plans either. It always seemed like one step forward, three giant leaps back with the little shop on the corner you basically called home. It was weird, to be thrust into leadership as your manager made an abrupt exit. 

The small bookstore, with an even tinier coffee shop, had been your place of work for the last year or so. You loved it. The people were great, and Nan, the shop owner, was absolutely lovely. She was getting up in her years, but the genuine care she had for the employees made all the difference. She put her trust in you to run the cafe, saying “You have the experience, and the care you have for people shows. I know this. Everyone knows this. Now you just have to see it - have confidence.”

“Confidence my ass,” you mutter, carrying five gallons of milk around the corner.

What happens next might have been considered the beginning of a rom-com, but you’re a realist, and the world is shitty.

There’s a crash, and the distinct sound of three of the five gallons of milk dropping onto the sidewalk. You stare, watching in slow motion as the milk forms into a river, dripping off the sidewalk into the gutter.

The person who ran into you curses, “Shit — fuck, sorry, I—I wasn’t looking where I was…dammit.”

You grip the other two jugs in your arms, blinking out of the haze to let out a hysterical laugh. “Great…cool cool.” Cold plastic bites into your fingers, and you take a deep breath. “Yeah, okay, what else was gonna happen?” You finally look up to see the one you collided with. The man looks extremely uncomfortable, foot tapping like he wants to bolt. Plastering on a smile you shake your head, “It’s fine. I’m the one who thought carrying five gallons of milk would be fine.” You ramble on, trying to ease his nerves, “I mean — why would I drive, like, thirty seconds. Park, get the milk, come all the way back. Seemed stupid…but now there’s milk in my socks.” You grimace, fighting the urge to chuck the remaining jugs of milk in the street so you could also hurl your milk-soaked shoes and socks after them. It makes the ache in your chest sharpen.

“Here, where are you —“

You cut him off, “No, no, it’s okay. I got it, thank you.” You gesture to the door that’s just a few feet away from you. “This is me, anyway.” You adjust your hold on the milk, brushing past the man to pull open the door. You catch it with your hip, not daring to look back as you head behind the counter. You release a sigh, setting the bane of your existence on the black speckled marble. 

“Fuck,” you whisper, pressing the backs of your hands to your eyes. You shake out your arms, biting your lip. “Okay, asshole, let’s get your shit together.” You quickly put the milk into the small fridge below the bar and walk to the back. The squish of your socks curdles your stomach, and you breathe through your mouth to avoid the smell. You take off your shoes, throwing them into a plastic bag to take home. Tossing your socks into the garbage, you grab your replacement sneakers and socks from your cubby. It wasn’t the first time you’ve dropped something on your shoes, it wouldn’t be the last.

You take your time in the back. You had gotten to the shop around 4am, unable to sleep. You were messing around with recipes, seeing if there was a possibility of baking some of the food in the cafe fresh, instead of outsourcing. It was something you put on your own plate, and you didn’t want to disappoint Nan. You had shown up early, looking to try out some muffins, and noticed the fridge had been hovering at sixty degrees all night. You’ll have to grab some more milk before the day starts, but that could be a problem for 8am you.

Walking through the swinging doors, you jump as you see someone at the bar counter. Pressing a hand to your fluttering heart, you finally take in the man that had run into you earlier. A mop of curly hair on his head, white tee, very blue eyes…and standing behind eight gallons of milk.

“Um…” you look between the milk and him a few times.

“The…uh – the door was unlocked. Figured I owed you one.” He rubs the back of his neck.

“How’d you even get it all here?” 

“Made two trips.” His gaze snaps back to you as you laugh, this time more genuine. “Fridge go out, or somethin’?” You’re still staring at him like he has two heads, and he rambles on, “Sorry for just…barging in. I used to go to this place…when I was kid. My sister and I would grab whatever pastries they had left for the day. And, yeah, we’d just sit, read random shit. I work at the restaurant just down the street…’s why I ran into you. Wasn’t paying attention – sorry, again.”

Suddenly, it all clicks. “You own The Bear.”

“Uh, yeah – yeah, I do.”

You feel nervous, out of the blue. Nan hadn’t stopped talking about the Berzatto’s, and Natalie had become a regular while the restaurant was being remodeled. You’re sure you’d seen other employees come in as well, for reading material. You vaguely remember talking to a very sweet man about baking, as he carried a ton of cookbooks in his arms.

You knew Carmen Berzatto, but only through the words of others – and the research you did late one night because you were nosey. To have him standing in the bookstore you worked at, for him to have gotten you milk, is sending you for a loop. Swallowing a lump in your throat, you begin to put the milk in their new home. You really need to call the refrigerator guy again. 

“That’s so cool,” the words fall from your mouth, others staying in your head. 

It's insane that someone like him is even speaking to you. He’s around the same age as you; He owns a restaurant and you’re barely able to run a tiny coffee bar in a bookstore. You’re an idiot who dropped milk onto the sidewalk. Why didn’t you just take the car? You should’ve just taken the car. Now Carmen fucking Berzatto has bought you milk at 5am because he feels bad for you. How pathetic. Call the fucking refrigerator guy.

“Thanks…for the milk.” You back away from the counter, gesturing behind you, “Lemme grab some money from the cash box real quick.”

“No, don’t worry about it.”

“It’s really fine, you didn’t have to go out of your way. I’ll be right back.” The itch creeps its way up your spine, and you push through the door as a shudder passes through you. You shake out the twitch, going and grabbing the cash box. You do mental math, trying to see how much you should give him. Did he even need the money? “Idiot,” you chide yourself. Today was not the day for your brain. 

Snagging a twenty and a ten, you rush back out to the bar, only to find the store empty. A groan escapes through your teeth, and you clench the cash in your hands, crumpling it. You walk to the front door, peering out to see if you can spot the chef. He must’ve made a quick getaway. As you turn to get prepped for the day, you spot a brochure on the counter, far away from its home of the stand at the front of the bookstore. Eat Your Way Through Chicago! 

Scribbled on the front is a phone number, and the words:

Fridge  Ask for Fak Say Carm sent you

“Fucking fuck.” You whisper, a smile creeping on your face against your will, “Asshole.”

It’s later in the week when you hear the bell attached to the front door – ding! You poke your head up from where you're arranging some alternative milks under the counter, seeing a familiar blonde.

“Hey, Natalie!” You pop up, an easy grin appearing on your face. “Half-caff?”

She nods, “Please.”

“How are you?” 

“Oh, you know.”

You ring her up quickly, then grab a pitcher to steam some milk for her latte. Natalie walks away from the counter to browse some books. The steam wand whirs, and you watch the vortex inside the pitcher. You touch the sides every so often, waiting for it to get to the right temperature. Making drinks is all muscle memory now, and you tamp the espresso grounds into the portafilter with precision. Wiping the excess from the lip, you lock it into the machine and press the shot button. As the shot pulls, you wipe down the steam wand with a wet cloth. 

“Is this any good?” Natalie has come back over, holding up a book with a half-naked man on the front.

You laugh, “It’s a Nan recommendation, so…” The shots are poured into the paper cup, and you swirl the milk into it, doing a quick tulip design. You sprinkle a little cinnamon over the top, before placing it in front of the woman.

“Smutty then, for sure.” Natalie laughs, then does a little excited gasp when she sees the latte art. “It looks so good every time!” 

“Thanks,” you reply, “Gets covered by the lid, but it’s fun to practice.”

“Too bad you don’t have for-here mugs,” she says thoughtfully.

“Ever the idea-haver! There'd be more spills to clean up – Nan would lose her mind if any books got ruined.” You point to the book still in her hand, “You want me to ring you up for that?” It was early enough in the afternoon that the only other person here was a part-timer, Jack, somewhere between the shelves stocking books. You had convinced Nan to upgrade to a different register system (which ended up saving money in the long run), so you’re able to ring up both books and café products at your register. 

She shakes her head, sighing. “I barely have any time to read, these days. I was thinking about trying out audiobooks? I used to listen to them at my old job, but it’s way too loud in the kitchen for that to work out.” The latte goes to her mouth, a pleasant hum leaving her as she takes a sip. “You’re the best.”

“Thanks, Natalie.”

She squints at you, “It’s Nat, c’mon.” A big conspiratorial grin makes its way onto her face, “So, I heard that you got some help with your fridge.”

A sharp pain twists in your chest. “Oh, um…yeah.” You let out a soft chuckle, “It’s working, which is great. Neil was a big help.”

“He said you made him the best hot chocolate he’s ever had,” Natalie taps the counter with her pointer finger twice. “Said he didn’t know how you got his number, though.” 

You shrug, wiping down the counter, “Nan had it. And the usual guy wasn’t calling me back.” Neil had told you the exact same thing, both about the drink and the number. Something had held you back from saying where you got the number from. Embarrassment, maybe? It felt weird, feeling like you owed anyone favors, or that things would be unbalanced. People usually never give without looking to receive.

“Frankie, right? He’s an asshole. Overcharges for everything.” Natalie doesn’t push you for answers, something you’re grateful for.

“Right! He disappeared one time and said he’d ‘be right back’ and then was gone for like, two hours! And he added that to his hourly!” The two of you giggle at the shittiness of people for a minute, when a ping causes Natalie to pull her phone from her pocket.

“I should run.” She reaches into her purse, and puts a five into your tip jar. “Thanks again!” 

As she turns to go, you call out her name. “Would you - maybe - I have some extra muffins. The place we get them from gave us some of the wrong ones…or they’re a tad over baked, or something. I can’t sell them. Would you wanna take them with you?”

“That’s so sweet of you! Yeah, I’m sure they’ll get eaten up.”

You grab the box of muffins, handing them over to her, “Thanks.”

“Thank you, babe.” She leaves with a smile, and you look down to brush the flour off your apron. 

“Hey, guys, I got some goodies!” Natalie sets the box of muffins on the table, where everyone is seated for family meal. 

Neil immediately grabs the box, pointing to the sticker on the top, “You went to Nan’s? Man, I could use a hot chocolate right now.” 

“I’m sure you can walk over there and order one, my love.” Natalie replies, waving for him to put the box back on the table.

Marcus snags two muffins, handing one to Sydney who is sitting on his right. Taking a bite, he stops chewing, eyebrows raised. “Dude,” he nudges the girl next to him.

“Dude,” Syd parrots, popping some muffin into her mouth. “Wait, woah.”

“That’s what I’m saying!” 

“Nat, where did you get these?” Sydney calls to the woman now sitting at the end of the table. The muffins are passed down the rest of the table.

Marcus has started dissecting the muffin, “Macadamia nuts, sick.”

“Oh they’re from Nan’s just down the corner!” She tells them how you offered them to her since they were the wrong ones from a vendor and possibly over-baked.

Syd snorts, “Over-baked? These are perfect!”

“What’s perfect?” Carmy walks out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel.

“Bear, come eat!” Natalie waves him over, pulling him into the seat next to hers. “You’ve been at it all morning, take a minute, okay?” She gives him a look that tells him not to argue, and he huffs in response, but does as she says.

“What’s perfect?” He asks again, taking the muffin box from Sweeps as it’s passed to him. As the cinnamon crumble topping hits his taste buds, he leans back in his chair. “Shit.”

“That’s what we’re saying!” 

Syd and Marcus begin talking over one another, the dull roar of family making its home in Carmy’s ears. He has another bite of muffin, thumb swiping over the sticker atop the box.

Nan’s Books & Brews

Simple lettering, surrounding a doodle of a coffee cup sitting on an open book.

“When did they,” he clears his throat as he leans closer to Nat, “when did they start doin’ stuff like this?”

Natalie purses her lips, “Not sure, honestly. They only had that small coffee machine and that plastic pastry case when we were growing up, remember? I think they added the actual coffee bar right before Covid?” Carmy nods, looking out the windows, a curdle in his stomach.

“A lot’s changed,” he murmurs.

“Yeah,” Nat sighs, a hand over her stomach, “a lot has.”

A few weeks go by, as uneventful as they can be. You try out more recipes, and the staff of Nan’s is always sent home with one treat or another. Muffins, cinnamon rolls, croissants (which were a bust), and the like. Natalie is still a regular, and Neil has shown up to save your ass more than once. The brochure with his number on it taunts you from where it’s stuck up on the corkboard in the back.

Which is what has led you to standing in front of The Bear, a joe-to-go in one hand, paper bag in the other. An envelope burns in the inner pocket of your flannel jacket. Steeling your nerves, you knock on the door. Some yells are heard from inside, nicknames getting passed around like it’s a holiday dinner. You see a man walk towards you, in a nice suit, and he opens the door.

“Can I help you?” It’s not said unkindly, but there’s a look in his eyes that’s making you nervous. 

“Coffee delivery?” You say sheepishly, holding up the coffee traveler by its cardboard handle.

“Richie, who’s at the - hey!” Natalie immediately smiles when she sees you, and you sigh a breath of relief. Things were easy with her; she had this amazing way of comforting you without even trying.

“Hi,” you wiggle your fingers, still keeping hold of the objects in your hands. “Wanted to say thanks for all the help Neil’s been giving me, and when Nan found out, she insisted I bring over some coffee for the team, so…”

“You workin’ at Nan’s?” The guy - Richie - asks.

“For the past year or so, yeah.” You reply, thanking Natalie as she grabs the paper bag from you.

“Let them in, Richie, c’mon.” She presses on his chest, causing him to back up with his hands in the air. “Come in! I’ve been meaning to ask if you wanted to come by for a tour.” You follow behind her, taking in the layout of the place. It’s absolutely gorgeous, and a sense of awe falls over you. She has you set the coffee traveler on the bar, letting you take the paper bag from her hands. You pull out a cup holder with two cups in it.

“One half-caff french vanilla latte for you and…a hot chocolate for Neil.” As if by magic, Neil pops through the door to the kitchen.

“For me?!”

You chuckle as he pulls you into a hug. When he pulls away, he grabs his cup with a happy sound, rushing back into the kitchen when “Fak!” is yelled.

“The fuck Fak get a coffee for?” Richie frowns, causing you to bristle. Natalie swats at him, beginning to explain as you continue to walk around the restaurant. As you pass by a wood table, your fingers tap on it, the sound echoing in your ears. It sends a shiver through you, and a small smile appears on your lips. 

Natalie calls out to you, tearing your gaze back to her. People have begun to swarm around the bar, placing food on it, and your coffee is suddenly surrounded by things that smell amazing. “Did you want to eat with us, babe?” Attention turns to you, and the itchiness in your limbs reappears with a vengeance.

 A tall man, wearing a beanie, grins, “Hey, those muffins were amazing, by the way.”

You sputter, “Oh. Um—“

“Tell the chef, or baker — whoever,” he laughs at himself. “They were fire.”

Warmth rises in you, “Yeah, I’ll pass it on.”

“Babe, lunch?” Natalie says again, louder this time. More of the staff have begun digging into their meals.

“No, it’s okay!” The corner of your mouth curves up in a small smile, this one less genuine than before. You begin to back up towards the door, a gnaw of guilt in your gut as Natalie frowns. 

“Cousin! Food!” Richie yells out, followed by laughter from everyone else.

“I’m coming!” A familiar figure bursts through the kitchen door, “You don’t gotta yell like an asshole.”

Carmen Berzatto stops in his tracks when he sees you; the envelope in your pocket burns hotter. You look down at your shoes, but they just remind you of the milk dripping down the sidewalk.

“Carm,” Natalie introduces you, “they work at—“

“Nan’s.” Everyone chimes in, and you have to stop yourself from flinching. You look over at Carmy, eyes meeting.

There’s a moment where you feel like you’re going to get swallowed whole. The pipes are going to burst and water will fill up the room and you’re going to drown.

You walked straight into a den of hungry beasts, and you’re just a measly rabbit.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay?” Natalie’s words are muffled in your ears, but you manage to shake your head.

“I have someone from books covering me, and they barely know how to work the espresso machine.” You force a laugh. It grates against your vocal chords. “It was nice meeting you guys, though.” With a meek wave, you turn on your feet and speed out the door. Rounding the corner, you keep walking until you’re sure they can’t see you. Veering into the alleyway behind the restaurant, you let out a shaky breath, leaning against the brick. 

You press your thumb into the palm of your hand. Inhale, hold four seconds, exhale. Inhale, hold four seconds, exhale. It’s over before it starts, but your chest remains tight. A reminder, which will eventually dissipate once you're back in the shop.

The coffee bar, your shield; apron, your armor. 

A door opening causes you to jump, startled. Your eyes meet blue, widening like you’ve been caught. “Sorry! I was just–” You push off the brick.

Carmen seems just as surprised as you, “No, s’fine.” He clears his throat, as the two of you settle into silence.

A fwip of a lighter. Four seconds. An exhale of smoke.

You’re unsure if you should leave, but it’s like the bottoms of your shoes are stuck to the ground. “Did you-” He starts, lifting up his hand that holds a lit cigarette.

You shake your head, “No, but - um, thanks.” Your fingers twitch, and you reach to pull the envelope from inside your jacket. Something that appears so insignificant, held out in the space between you. When he just stares, you wave it a bit, until he takes the envelope with his free hand.

“What’s this?” 

“Cash, for the milk you bought.”

“You didn’t have to-“

“I did.” You bounce on your heels, “I should actually get going this time. Just wanted to give you that but…” He doesn’t respond, something you’re getting used to. You wonder where the man who rambled about reading with his sister at Nan’s went, but decide now is the best time to make your escape. As you start to walk toward the street, you turn, “The restaurant looks great, by the way. Good luck with the opening.”

“Good luck with the opening.”

Inhale. Four seconds. Exhale.

"Let it rip, Bear."

Inhale. Four seconds. Exhale.

“-a complete waste of fucking time.”

Inhale. Four seconds. Exhale.

“I’m really sorry you feel that way, Carm.”

Natalie invites you to Friends & Family.

You don’t go.

The next month flies by. Marcus, Richie, and Syd have joined your little group of regulars. Richie even brings his daughter, Eva, whenever he’s able. She’s a joy and absolutely hilarious to have around. Richie has grown on you, the rough edges of him softening after a few cortados.

One night, he had rushed into the shop, Eva in tow, all but begging you to watch her for a few hours. He was supposed to be off for the day, to spend time with his daughter, but they’re understaffed at The Bear. A few weeks in, which confused you, but questions weren’t asked. You said yes - obviously - and had Eva help you with little things around the shop, until you close. The two of you bonded over a shared love of Taylor Swift while making muffins. By the time Richie came to pick her up, Eva was tuckered out in a loveseat, patchwork blanket tucked up to her chin.

“I owe you one,” Richie had whispered, holding his daughter in his arms.

You shook your head, “You deserve to have time with her.”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes, “Yeah, bring it up with the Bear himself.”

You weren’t planning on it. The man is barely on your mind. Except for every time someone from The Bear walks in. They look drained, more and more each day. It’s a certain type of pain, to watch people – that once had so much life in them – lose the light that you felt so harshly the first time you walked into the restaurant. You hear inklings; mentions of a changing menu every night, nonnegotiables, and the like.

It worries you. It’s not your place - you’re more than aware of that. But you’ve come to care for these people. And by extension, some part of you wants to see how he’s doing. It’s an odd - biting -feeling. How strange it is, to know someone through everyone else’s eyes but your own. You have to fight back the urge to force yourself into the places you do not fit. You’re resigned to watching from afar, providing comfort behind your coffee bar. It’s what you’re good at. It might be all you're good at.

Some sick twist of fate decides to upturn it all one Friday night.

Carmy had stayed late, to nobody’s surprise. He’d been adjusting the menu, preparing it for tomorrow, when the flashes hit him. He decides to walk it off, popping another thing of nicotine gum into his mouth. He walks aimlessly, trying to push the overwhelming thoughts out of his head. The street is dark - most places being closed - but light pours onto the sidewalk, just a few feet ahead of him. Almost a reflex, he peers into the windows.

A laugh of disbelief - more a huff of air through his nose - leaves him.

You’re dancing, headphones over your ears, as you mix something in a large bowl. It’s unlike anything he’s seen - from you or otherwise. There’s a sense of freedom in your movements, so different from the few times he’d seen you before. The tightness in his chest lightens, some, at the sight of you so obviously in your element.

And you're looking right at him.

“Shit,” he mumbles. You tilt your head at him, doing a little wave. He lifts a hand in reply, and you point haphazardly at the door. Before he can respond, or walk away – anything, you’re heading around the counter. A click of the door unlocking, and you pull it open part way.

“Hey,” you say, a little loud. With a wince, you pull the headphones off to rest around your neck. Music can be heard – a muffled, upbeat song that he doesn’t recognize. “Hey,” you say again, quieter this time. Silence passes between you, and he watches your nose twitch. “…did you wanna?” You jut your thumb behind you. You’re almost unrecognizable from the first time you met, calmer, somehow.

“Yeah, sure.” The words come out, easier than he thinks, and slips through the door you hold open. You lock it behind him, turning back around to slide behind the counter.

You grab a muffin tin, beginning to fill each one with a scoop of the batter you had been mixing. You make quick work of it, pushing them into the small commercial oven, wiping your fingers on the towel that’s pulled through a loop in your jeans.

Leaning against the counter, you finally look at him, “Okay, Pick your poison.”

“What?”

“Coffee? Americano, latte, cappuccino?” It’s like you’re trying to read him, wanting to crack the spine of a book and see what’s inside.

“I don’t really do the…caffeine.”

You hum thoughtfully, tapping your fingers on the counter in some type of rhythm. “Can I make you something? Low-caffeinated, of course.” He nods. “Anything you hate?” A shake of his head.

You grab a cup and get to work. You’re singing under your breath - the song that’s playing from the headphones around your neck. With your eyes off of him, he takes a moment to actually observe the shop. Warm lighting, with dark wood bookshelves making it feel cozy without being too claustrophobic. There’s smaller tables, with different recommendations for certain genres. A sprinkling of string lights and hanging plants just adds to the homey feeling, one so different from the pristine, white kitchens he’s used to being in. So different from his own restaurant. The coffee shop portion is close to the front, dark marble countertops and a chalkboard menu - swirling letters describing monthly drink specials.

“Alright, order up,” you call out softly.

Carmy walks back up to the bar, eyeing the cup. Warmth presses into his skin as his fingers curl around it. You mention that it’s hot, to let it cool for a bit. Silence falls between the two of you - in a way he finds comforting. Your eyes flick between him and the counter you’re wiping down.

“Do you normally do this?” He asks.

“The making drinks thing, or the staying at the shop way too late thing?” You give a wry smile. “Could ask you the same.”

He scratches at his nose, “Noted.”

The minutes pass; you go about cleaning the shop, rinsing dishes and setting things up for the next day. It’s an art he’s well versed in. The muscle memory takes over for you, and Carmen becomes invisible. It feels nice, to just be in a place where nobody has anything to ask of him. He finally tries the drink. It’s good, milky, if a little sweet, but it eases the last of the sourness in his stomach away. A timer on your phone goes off, and you tug on a flowery oven mitt to pull the muffins out of the oven. Chocolate and spice invades his nostrils, soothing him even more. You grab one, hissing a bit since it’s hot, and put it on a plate, bringing it back over to him. Leaning over the bar, you reach for forks that are in a metal cup, right near Carmy. You’re close, with no care about being in his personal space. It’s only for a second, and then you’re back in your previous position.

“You can have some, as long as you promise not to be an ass about it.” You hold out a fork for him. The words cause him to cringe, but he takes the utensil from you.

He stares at the muffin, running his thumb on the underside of the fork. “How much trouble am I in?”

You shrink back a little, “W-what?”

He’s met you what - twice? Both times felt clunky, an awkwardness to the both of you. Here, it’s simpler. Under the cover of night, huh? A voice that sounds awfully like Mikey’s says in the back of his mind. His family won’t stop talking about you. Or drinking your coffee.

“The Bear,” he mutters. “They talk to you, right?”

You laugh, surprised. “Do you actually want to know?” You hold up a hand before he can reply, “Actually, no. They don’t talk to me. I see things, sure. But I’m not getting anyone in trouble with the boss.” You’re on the defensive, not even for yourself, but for his kitchen.

“They-They’re not in trouble.” One look from you and he deflates, sighing. “Okay, yeah. Just…just say something.”

“I haven’t even been to eat there.”

“You should come,” he says.

Another laugh - a scoff, more-like, “You think I could afford your place?” You bite your lip, pinching the bridge of your nose. After a moment, you continue, gently, “Do you have any fun?”

“Fun.” The word is like poison in his mouth.

“Yes, fun. I know that food service isn't the best, but it’s good to have fun, or to at least enjoy it.” You wave your hands around, “That family meal stuff you guys do? That’s so sweet, and you have a whole family unit going on in that kitchen, or whatever. If this restaurant is supposed to be the rest of your life, you should like it, at least a little bit, right?” Your torso melts into the counter, and you rest your head on your arm. “And like, maybe? Don’t change the menu every night, or something. It’s new, right? You gotta work out the kinks first before jumping in all-” you blow air out through your cheeks.

A beat of quiet, then, “The menu, huh?”

“Eleven thousand for butter?” You parrot back. At his frown, you hold up your hands, “I’m just a barista, what would I know?” You say it without heat, and yet he feels guilt crawl up his throat.

“That’s not-”

“I know, Carmen.” A sigh leaves your lips, “You asked, so I talked. Again, take everything with a grain of salt.” The words get softer, as if you’re talking more to yourself than to him, “Just remember who’s going down with you if it ends up crashing and burning.”

You stab your fork into the muffin, tearing it in half. He follows suit, lifting a bite of it to his lips. Spice floods his taste buds, and he grunts. You blink up at him, fork hanging from your mouth. He’s suddenly starving, and he eagerly gets himself another forkful. “S’good.” He mumbles through the food. Carmen watches as you process his words, pressing your lips together to hide a smile. You two finish the muffin, and there’s an ominous sense of peace that covers him like a blanket. “Thanks.”

“For yelling at you?”

Carmy lets the chuckle spill out, “If that’s what you call yelling…” He trails off, sobering, “Do you have fun?”

You hum, contemplating. “Yeah. I mean, it’s coffee, at the end of the day. It’s just nice to see people, to make their day a little better than it was. I like to try out new things, to create, to get recommendations.” You stop, seeing him staring at you, “What?”

“You’re different…from the other day, s’all.”

You’re perplexed, scrunching your nose, “Well I had a bad day, the first time. And I don’t do…well, with new people.”

“Unless you’re behind the counter.”

Your eyes widen, something flickering behind them, like he’s seen something you didn’t want him to. “Touche.” Checking your phone, you clear your throat, “Alright, we should probably get out of here if we want any semblance of sleep.” He follows your lead, as you flick off the lights, throwing you backpack over your shoulder. He waits while you lock the front door, small key dangling on a keychain. You turn, looking at him, before holding out a paper bag, “Muffin for the road?”

He grabs it, an odd feeling bubbling in his chest, “Oh - uh, thanks.”

You suddenly look sheepish, fiddling with the strap of your bag, “And if you’re out late again, feel free to stop by. If you need a break, or something.” A beat. “Oh, again, take what I said with a grain of salt, yeah? Just - maybe - try to take care of yourself a little.” You laugh nervously, and Carmy sees the truth of his earlier observation. You’re still more relaxed, but the nerves have crept in as you step outside your comfort zone. Something he knows all too well. “Anyways, have a good night - morning.” You shake your head, blowing a raspberry through your lips.

“Night. Get home safe.” He murmurs. You turn on your heel, walking down the street. He tightens his grip on the paper bag.

Take care of yourself.

At least enjoy it.

You should like it, at least a little bit, right?

Carmy doesn’t know if he truly remembers what liking cooking is like. He’s found little bits of it, in moving back home. In Marcus’ eyes as he creates something new. In Syd’s determination to make amazing food. There’s a passion there that he’s lost somewhere along the way.

He sees it in you, and it calls out to him - the tide being pushed and pulled by the moon. A curious feeling, gnawing at his stomach. A hunger for something he can’t make sense of, but he pulls the muffin out of the bag to eat on his walk home.

Carmy keeps showing up at Nan’s, usually late at night. You didn’t expect him to take you up on your offer, yet a smile graces your lips every time he does.

He was right, when he said you feel most comfortable behind the counter. You knew it, but having someone else acknowledge it felt…weird. Like you weren’t playing your part right. Yet it also felt good, to be seen.

Conversation between the two of you still feels stilted, occasionally, but you find comfort in the quiet moments. And the not-so quiet ones; with music playing at just above a reasonable level, you mouthing the words as you dance around behind the bar. The mask slowly slides off when he comes around, and it’s easier to be goofy.

You think it surprises him. He’s not quite sure what to do, when you’re cruising on the linoleum tile you call a dance floor. But he never tells you that you’re weird, or too much. You’ve maybe even seen him bite back a smile. You swear there’s dimples hiding somewhere — a fleeting thought that you let fly away before you linger on it too long.

“What do you think?” You’ve turned the music down, notepad on the counter, your favorite pen in hand. You click it a few times, sound satisfying the little itch in the back of your brain.

“Not sure if I’m a matcha fan,” Carmy murmurs. You nod, writing down his response onto the paper. It’s almost filled — you’ll have to turn to the next page soon — with different drinks you’ve had Carmy try, determined to find the right one. He’s harder to pin than others, something you’re not necessarily surprised by.

That's partially on you. You're unsure of how much to ask. How much could you poke the both metaphorical and literal Bear until it breaks? You've been enjoying your time, but you've yet to ask him how work is going. He doesn't ask you about your personal life, so why would you ask about his?

There's a curiosity there, though. To see what makes Carmen Berzatto tick. You fear the two of you might be a little too similar.

You turn to go back to cleaning your mess — the reason being a fresh tray of cookies cooling on the counter, when he says your name. “Did you get a new tattoo?”

Gaze flashing to the wrap you have on your arm, peeking out from the sleeve of your shirt, you turn bashful. “Oh,” you hum, “I did. It’s been on my list for awhile. I’m keeping it wrapped at work while it heals - god knows I spill everything all over myself.”

“Can I — What did you get?” He’s just as sheepish as you, a boyish glow about him. You’d never talked about tattoos before. His evidence is on his arms; yours are mostly concealed — easy to hide with the oversized button downs and jeans you wear.

You pull your phone from your back pocket, “Here, I’ll pull up a photo of it.” Placing your phone on the counter, Carmy grabs it, zooming in on the two-headed calf that’s found its home on your bicep. The tattoo is fresher in the photo, line work popping out against your skin. “The longest living two-headed calf lived 17 months. Her name was Gemini — a little on the nose, I think. There’s also this poem by Laura Gilpin, that just kinda struck me.” Your ramble tumbles off, a half smile pulling at your lips. “It’s sad, but the kind that makes you hurt in a nice way? If that even makes sense.” You wave a hand around, then reach to take a sip from his cup.

The matcha settles the nerves hiding under your skin, the earthy flavor dancing on your tongue. As you set the cup back on the counter, you point at his hand, “What’s that stand for?” Your own fingers twitch, fighting the urge to brush them across his own. “S.O.U?”

“Ah, sense of urgency.” He says, fiddling with your phone.

You laugh, quickly covering it with a hand, “Sorry, I — sorry, that just makes so much sense.” Before he can speak, you shake your head, “Not in a bad way, necessarily. It’s just so obvious how little work-life balance you have.”

“We’re literally at your shop in the middle of the night.” Carmen huffs exasperatedly, corner of his mouth curling up.

You hold your hands up, conceding, “Okay, I get it. Misery loves company - or whatever. God, we’re both crazy, aren’t we? We should get out more.”

He hums in response, tapping his phone twice to check the time. Anxiety swells up in your throat, and there’s something biting at your heels. The silence doesn’t feel comfortable anymore.

You said something wrong, the little voice in your head whispers. You lost the script and got too close and now he’s pulling back. How can you fix it? You have to fix it.

“What’s your favorite one?” His blue eyes glance up at you. Invisible hand squeezing your lungs, you stammer, “Tattoo. What’s the one you like most?”

His words come out softly, “A house boat. I, uh, got it before leaving Copenhagen. I stayed in one while I was over there, and put out water for an invisible cat.” Relief floods you as he talks. It’s the most he’s spoken about anything, and you see a glimmer behind his eyes.

It feels a little too close to home.

“You really loved it over there, huh?”

As if caught, he clears his throat, “It was cool…different.”

Different from Chicago, you don’t say. “I get that,” you murmur instead.

You knew what it was like, to run away. The need for escape pushing you into flight as the metaphorical dog chases the rabbit.

You wonder what Carmen’s dog was. Or is. If it’s even a dog at all.

“What about you? What’s your favorite?”

You’re pulled from your thoughts. “Oh! Um, it’s silly.” You worry at your bottom lip.

“You don’t—”

“No, hold on, it’s just,” you push yourself onto the counter with the palms of your hands. Carmen leans back as you swing your legs over the bar, letting your feet rest on the barstool next to him. You lean over, pulling up your pants leg to show the tattoo on the right side of your calf. He stares at it for a moment, confusion clear in his gaze. “See, I told you.”

“Is it a moth, or something?”

“Moth-man, Carmen. Mothman.”

“Am I supposed to know what that is?”

“He’s a cryptid. There’s literally stories of a Chicago Mothman.” He peers up at you in amusement, causing you to scrunch your face at him. “I swear on my life Carmen Berzatto, don’t be an asshole.”

“I’m not.” He laughs, and your chest loosens. You got Carmen Berzatto to laugh. “It looks good, the style is nice,” he gestures to your leg.

You smile, “Thanks.”

Nodding, he goes to sip from his cup. He makes a face, pulling it away from him, “Yeah, I don’t like this.”

He holds it out to you as you reach for it, laughter spilling from your lips, “More grass for me.” You drink, and let the cup rest on your thigh, fingers tapping on the plastic lid.

“I’m not…” Your head turns to look at him, watching as he runs a hand through his hair. “I’m not really good at this.”

“...at what?” You whisper, scared if you talk any louder you’ll scare him away.

“Talking? Not working? Who the fuck knows,” his hand leaves his hair and passes over his face.

“I’m not either, really.” You pick at your jeans, “But we’re trying, right? You come by more than I thought you would.”

“Really?”

You snort, “Dude, the first time I was surprised you even came in.” Gently, you add, “And you don’t have to be perfect at conversation to be friends with someone.” His eyes meet yours as you nudge his shoulder with your knee. “I’m weird, you’re weird, that’s okay.”

Carmen rolls his eyes good naturedly. His legs are bouncing, and you can almost see him chewing the word around before it finally leaves, “Friends?”

“Friends.” You affirm. Silence passes between you, until a growl comes from your stomach.

The man laughs, looking all the prettier for it, “You hungry?”

“Starving,” you groan.

He gets up from his seat, grabbing his denim jacket that’s hung over the chair on his left, “C’mon.”

It takes a moment, but it clicks. “Oh my god,” you gasp out, hopping off the counter. With a speed you only have during a lunch rush, you run to the back. You untie your apron, hang it up on a hook, and grab your tote bag. “Wallet, keys, phone…phone!”

“Out here!” Carmen yells. You grin, rushing back out to the front, bouncing on your heels. “You good?”

“As I’ll ever be.” You shake your keys with enthusiasm. He laughs as you both leave, and you turn to lock up. There’s excitement buzzing through you, like caffeine would if your brain weren’t wired a bit funky. A thought cuts through the haze, “Oh shit, I forgot to–”

“I got the trash.” The street lights reflect off his blue eyes.

Your heart twinges a little, “Thanks.”

“No problem.” He gestures with his head, “Now let’s go before your stomach eats itself.”

“Hey Carm?!”

The man pokes his head into the office, one hand wrapped around the door, “Yeah, what?”

Natalie raises an eyebrow, “You busy?”

Carmy scoffs, “Yeah, Sugar, I’m busy.”

It’s lunch time. Marcus has pastries, Tina’s running prep. Syd is around…avoiding him. He tries not to think about it for too long. Richie is who knows where.

Fuck, don’t be an asshole, asshole.

Deflating, he asks, “What’s up? Everything okay?”

“I’m spending my hour of alone time figuring shit out here, while Pete watches the baby.” His sister sighs, glancing down at the paperwork on the desk, “I’m managing. Anyways, that’s not what I wanted to talk about.”

He wants to ask about the baby. His niece. But Natalie barrels over the topic to say, “Were you here late the other night?” He must have made a face because Natalie sighs, exasperated. “I know you stay later than everyone else, doing god knows what, but I got a notification on my phone the other night-“

“What notification?”

She rolls her eyes, “The alarm system, dummy. I get alerts.”

“No, yeah, I get that. But I turned it off.”

It could only be from the other night, when he brought you back to the restaurant. He’s not sure why he did — he almost had a panic attack in front of you while debating what to make. It's strange, how much an environment can affect someone. Nan's feels so comfortable to him now, like nothing can happen to him when he's in those four walls. Where was the last place he felt like that?

You don’t need to impress anyone, Carmen. It’s just me, you had said.

Simple words that cut through him like a knife. You asked for comfort food, so he made you grilled cheese with tomato soup. The little dance you did every time you took a bite relit a fire inside of him that had been burnt out by years of working in kitchens.

“I know. I’m asking because the alarm was set, and then you turned it off again a few hours later.” Natalie unlocks her phone, showing him her screen that has some app pulled up with timestamps on it. “Are you sleeping? Look, I know things aren’t great right now—" Natalie cuts herself off with another sigh.

“It’s fine. Things are fine.” At her pointed look, he holds his hands up in surrender. “I’m working on it, okay? Just…are you good? Do you need anything?”

“About 48 hours of interrupted sleep would be great.” Her gripe falls off into a laugh, which he returns.

Stepping into the room further, he pulls the door closer, just a slim crack of clean white light coming through. “I’ve been a shitty brother lately.”

“No…” Natalie snorts, “Okay yeah, a bit. I love you, though.”

He mumbles the words back, tapping out a rhythm on his thigh, “Maybe I could come by, sometime. See the baby.” It’s a blessing and curse how his chest aches when he sees the way her eyes light up.

“I’d love that, Bear.”

“Yo, delivery!” Marcus yells out, pulling the attention of the Berzatto siblings.

“The fuck?” There isn't supposed to be a delivery today.

Natalie gets out of her seat, “Oh thank god.” She ushers Carmy out of the office, pushing past him into the dining room. He follows after her, confused, only to stop in his tracks.

You’re here.

You stand next to Richie, talking animatedly, albeit shy. You’re wearing clothes he doesn’t regularly see you in, the worn denim jacket catching his eye in particular. It’s clear that you aren't working, yet you hold two cups from Nan’s in your hands, a few drink carriers littering a table.

“You’re literally my savior, thank you.” Natalie pulls you into a hug, and you look at Richie with wide eyes. Carmy has to hold back a snort at your expression.

“You should expect this reaction by now, kid.” Richie takes a sip from his drink when you gape at him in exaggerated outrage.

“Shut up, Richie,” Natalie is barely paying attention, saying the words more out of habit. Grabbing a cup from a drink holder, she says, “You’re coming home with me.”

Giggles bubble from your lips, and you go to cover them with the back of your arm. There’s a pull Carmy feels, instinctual, to urge your arm away from your face and hear your genuine laughter fill the room.

Your eyes meet his, finally noticing that he’s there. The smile you give him is earnest, a gentle hello without words. He forces his feet to move, closing the distance. Carmy blatantly ignores the looks both Richie and Natalie are making. You hold out the cup in your hand - the one you weren’t drinking from - and he takes it from you.

Condensation clings to the sides, his name hastily written on the side.

⋆⁺Carmy!⁺˚⋆

There’s a heart in place of the dot at the bottom of the exclamation point, little stars doodled around his name. His stomach flips.

“Iced?” He swirls the drink in hand, mixing it up.

You shrug, “Thought I’d try something different. It’s hot outside.”

“You off?” Bringing the straw to his lips, he hums at the taste. You’re watching him eagerly, head tilted to the side as you wait for his review. “This is nice.”

Squinting at him, you huff, “Not perfect, though.” You type something into your phone — most likely to add to your notebook later. “Had to run some more syrup by the shop. Saw Natalie’s car on the street so I texted her to see if she wanted something to drink. I have errands to run after this.”

“You a regular too now, Cousin?” Richie barks, and Carmy watches as you remember where you are. Who you’re with.

A protectiveness rises up in Carmen, hating the way you recoil into yourself. “Fuck off, Richie.” He looks over at you, “Hungry?”

“Dude, we got shit to do.”

“Richie!” Natalie hisses at the older man, shoving him back toward the kitchen. She calls back to you, “Thanks for the coffee! I promise I’ll come by when I feel more like a human again.”

The customer service clicks into place behind your eyes, “Take care of yourself! Hope the baby is doing well!” Once it's just the two of you, you sigh, knocking the heels of your boots together. “I should get going.”

Carmen nods, “Can I grab you a sandwich, first?”

“Grilled cheese?” You tease, stifling a smile.

He huffs, shaking his head, “Nah, but Ebra’s got window right now. I could throw something together real quick.”

“You don’t have to do that.” He glances down; you’re pressing your thumb into the middle of your hand. It's uncanny, the semblance of himself that is mirrored in you.

“I know.” He wants to, though. “Give me five minutes?”

A moment of hesitation, then, “Okay.”

“Cool.” And he’s off.

Chaos erupts the minute he’s back in the kitchen.

“Since when did the two of you become buddy-buddy?”

“Can we please get back to work? Richie, respectfully, what are you doing back here?” Syd is working on pasta, flour covering her work service.

“I got shoved outta my space, so here I am,” Richie waves his hands around.

The overlapping voices turn into white noise, and Carmy inhales sharply, “Fak!”

“Yes, chef!” Neil appears out of nowhere. Sometimes Carmen thinks there’s a series of underground passages that makes it so easy to get ahold of him. It’s not that crazy of a notion.

“Go and say hello to them, okay? I’m gonna throw together something, give it to them, and then I’ll be right back.” The last part is meant for everyone to hear, but is pointed more toward Richie. “Seriously, just leave it, alright?”

“I’m leaving it,” Richie snarks, but nudges Fak with his elbow. “Think there’s a drink out there with your name on it anyway. Snag me another one of those apple-donut-things too, eh?”

“Fritters!” Marcus calls out from his station.

Carmy sighs deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. He’s queasy; he’ll have to take some pepto later.

Inhale. Four seconds. Exhale.

Let it rip, Bear.

Neil barrels into you, wrapping you in a hug. He talks your ear off for the next couple minutes; you smile when you need to, laugh when you remember.

The yells from the kitchen are playing on repeat in your ears.

They’re talking about you.

The urge to flee tickles the back of your throat. You thought it would be nice to stop by and bring Natalie a coffee, but then you had felt bad about not bringing anything for everyone else, which turned into you jumping behind the bar to make ten drinks. It’s not like you were going to make Morgan, the barista on shift, make them all.

You always had a hard time not working on your days off.

“You should absolutely come!”

“Yeah, that’d be nice.” You reply, still not fully checked back into your conversation with Neil.

He smiles, “Great! I’ll send you the info!”

Before you can ask what you actually agreed to, Carmy pushes back into the room, to-go container in hand. “Hey, uh, Fak, can you go take a look at the toilet for me?” You barely notice Neil leave, focusing more on how your chest releases as Carmen walks closer to you.

He hands you the container, and you murmur a soft, “Thank you.”

“I’ll walk you out, yeah?”

The thought is nice. Glancing behind him, you see Natalie and Richie watching through the window. “It’s okay, you really don’t have to.” You take a step back just as Carmy reaches out to you. You can’t run, they’d see you. Ask questions. They probably see a caged animal.

“Hey,” he whispers your name, “it’s just me.” He’s repeating the words you said to him the night you were here. You tear your eyes away from the kitchen, looking at him. “Lemme walk you out?”

With a nod, you let him guide you out the front door. The warm summer air washes over your skin, and you take in a deep breath. You count the lines in the sidewalk as you pass them, sipping at your iced latte. “It was cool of you to come by,” Carmy says. “And your jacket’s dope.”

He’s trying to make you feel better.

“Did you just say dope?” You peek over in his direction, catching his shrug. “You’re so old.”

“Fuck off,” he laughs, and your smile widens.

You make it to your car, a little thing that has a new problem every other week. It’s been with you for years, moved with you to five different states. More of a sentimental object, than a real mode of transportation. You mostly used CTA these days if you were able, but it was nice to have a car for when you’re running errands all around the city.

“Sorry if they bothered you,” he apologizes, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“No, no, no,” you push out the words, throat tightening, arms hugging your middle. “I thought I was going to try to be a human today. May have jumped the gun on that one.” Fiddling with your keys, you continue, “It was nice to see you. Thought you might be a vampire or something, since I only ever see you at night.”

The joke causes Carmy to roll his eyes, “Is that considered a cryptid?”

You perk up at the word, “Oh, don’t get me started.”

He smiles big enough for his dimple to appear, “Oh, yeah?”

“Unless you want me to talk for hours on end. I’ll make a power-point presentation and everything.” You might already have one in the works, but he didn’t need to know that.

“You could - I mean, it wouldn’t bother me. If you did, you know?”

You blink a few times, frozen in shock. He looks shy, almost. Like the first time you met him, but there’s something between you now. A plant that will keep growing - might even bloom - if the two of you keep watering it. He keeps pecking away at your carefully crafted walls that let people see exactly how much you want them to.

Carmen Berzatto keeps seeing you. Whoever that is.

He coughs, scratching the side of his head. “I’ll see you later?”

“You know where I’ll be.”

“Yeah.”

You walk around to the driver’s side of your car, opening the door. You slide in, turning the key to let your car sputter to life. You roll the windows down, and music starts to blare from your speakers. “Kick ass tonight!” You yell the words as you pull away from the curb. You spare a glance in your rearview, watching Carmy wave before he starts walking back to his restaurant.

When you're parked outside your apartment, it hits you. You dig into your tote bag, pushing aside old receipts, chapstick tubes, and fidget toys. You cheer to yourself as you pull your notebook out, favorite pen hooked over the cover. Flipping to the back, you stare at the list of drinks you've had Carmy try.

You think you want to keep seeing him, too. Whoever that is.

You scribble at the bottom of the page, circling it twice.

Spiced Chai ~ HOT, xtra cinn

[jude-duarte-wannabe]

Charles jealousy smut please!

my own little devil

order up!

hi lovely thanks for the request, i have been dying to write this and i am a charles girl so i may have gone a little feral while writing this, so apologies in advance <3 i did end up picking prompts from my bakery list to go with this just fyi and those prompts will be bolded.

pairing; charles leclerc x female fwb reader

blurb; your devious little plan to make charles jealous and regret leaving you high and dry the previous night goes wrong.

warnings; biting kink, rough sex, a speck of breeding, spit, dirty thoughts, wall sex, google translated french, semi public sex, creampie, hair pulling, dirty talking, oral fem!receiving, possessive behavior, choking, mentions of pregnancy, dom!charles. [let me know if i missed anything!]

chai; biting or hickeys [i picked biting] lemonade; possessive vodka shot; rough sex tea; semi public doppio; wall sex chocolate mousse; "i'm sorry" croissant; "don't you dare" pancake; "no, we can't, not here" sugar pie; "stop wriggling" boston cream pie; "fuck, it's dripping down your legs"

currently playing; jealous by nick jonas "cause you're too fuckin' beautiful and everybody wants a taste, that's why i still get jealous"

it was all his fault, at least thats what you told yourself when you came up with this devious little plan in the first place, that it was charles's fault for up and leaving before you'd been able to cum around his cock last night.

he'd showed up at your place around two in the morning tipsy and in a grump from having lost the race earlier in the day begging you to make him feel better and so naturally since he was the best fuck you'd ever had, you let him have his way with you but his way last night was utter fucking torment.

he enjoyed, no he loved seeing you beg and he was hoping you'd be begging tonight down on your sweet little knees but you had decided that, that was not going to be the case, you wanted to be the one to have him on his fucking knees for a change.

you knew deep down that this dress would do the trick, the red satin hugged your figure, attaching itself to each and every curve of your body and the bra you wore pushed your boobs so far up that they could fall out of your dress with one wrong move, you looked like a sin; that was all charles was capable of thinking the moment he saw you walk into the club, his own personal little devil.

when you brushed past him on your way to the bar, your fingers grazed across his crotch and the slight gasp he let out made you smirk "you are playing a dangerous game douce fille" charles whispered to himself as he watched you go, hips swinging with every step, charles couldn't help but lick his lips at the sight, desperate for a taste.

charles was fine with letting you wander about the club showing off for him but what he didn't like was you showing off for all the other men there as well with your ass practically hanging out the bottom of your dress, you were his and he wasn't gonna let another guy lay a hand on you, so while he let you have your space, he found his eyes traveling over to you every now and then just to make sure you weren't getting into any mischief.

but little did either of you know, mischief was heading your way. when you felt a hand brush across your back so close to your ass as you leaned across the bar to take your drink from the bartender, you smirked thinking it was charles coming to claim his prize for the night but oh how you couldn't have been more wrong.

as you looked behind you, you made eye contact with a man that just radiated fuckboy energy "please don't touch what isn't yours" you mused quietly and he held his hand's up innocently like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar "relax just wanted to get to know ya, i'm brad" you couldn't help but roll your eyes, brad what a classic fuckboy name.

after a thought you decided he was harmless since you had no intention of flirting or going home with him tonight, so you decided to indulge him a little and so you sat across from one another at the bar, slowly sipping at your individual drinks.

charles had only taken his eyes off you for less than two minutes and when his eyes sought you out, he saw red.... seeing you sitting across from a man at the bar, he wasn't happy and despite you deciding to be a little tease with your choice of dress tonight he trusted you like he had never trusted any other girl before and so he let it go until he watched the guy slip his hand onto your thigh, caressing the skin like he owned you but he didn't, charles did and he was going to make sure that this prick fucking knew that.

"let me get you another drink" brad asked, hand still running along your thigh, little did he know that if he didn't remove it soon he would no longer have a hand and if the intimidating presence behind you didn't give away the fact that brad was fucked, the hand that soon wrapped around your throat should have been a dead giveaway, charles tilted your back to look into your eyes "don't you dare" he practically growled.

"you say yes and i will not be gentle with you" brad's hand slipped from your thigh "i didn't know you were taken" brad stated, trying to defend himself "i'm not" you mumbled, still gazing into charles's eyes and as your words hit his ears, he tightened his grip around your throat.

"lets go" he growled, pulling you off the bar stool and into the bathroom of the club, you'd barely made it in the door before charles pressed your back into the cold tile wall, his hand once again wrapping around your throat and holding tight as you struggled against his hold "stop wriggling" he demanded, his breath hot against your ear as he pressed a little tighter causing black spots to form in front of your eyes, as he watched a tear slip from your eye he eased back a little loosening his hold but not completely letting go just yet "your mine so all those guys can fuck off and leave you alone"

"i'm not yours" you reminded him and he gave you a look that told you that you'd picked your words poorly "yeah, well i'm going to fucking make you mine douce fille" and with that he dropped to his knees, hiking your dress up and around your hips, he dragged the fabric of your panties to the side drooling at the sight of your wet little pussy, if you asked charles in a public setting what his favorite thing about you was he would say your eyes but if you asked in private, he wouldn't even give you a verbal answer and instead just drop to his knees in front of you.

"no, we can't, not here" your fingers tangled in his soft locks, pulling at it to try and distract him from his current mission of wanting to eat your pussy until your legs gave out around his head and your whole body was trembling from his touch but your words met deaf ears as he spit into his hand before rubbing his fingers along your folds, grazing your clit with every pass he made.

"your fucking crazy" you whispered as a shiver ran down your spine due to charles's touch on your clit but also at the idea of being caught in such a compromising position in public, oh how you could see the headlines now.

"FERRARI'S GOLDEN BOY CAUGHT IN ROMANTIC TRYST!"

it was only a few seconds before charles's mouth attached to your pussy, licking through your folds to suck up every last drop of the juices you were currently leaking all over his pretty little face like an alcoholic who'd gone far too long without a drink.

his fingers gripped tightly at your thighs making sure to leave little bruises that he could kiss better later. when he slipped his tongue inside, you shuddered above him, hands pulling at his hair but he never ceased, this man was starving and he was going to feast.

you couldn't help but gently rock your hips against his tongue which caused his nose to brush against your clit causing the most gorgeous friction that had you tilting your head back as a low moan slipped past your lips, fingers tugging at his hair as he smiled against your folds continuing to eat your pussy like a man starved.

you were reaching your peak and fast, you always did when charles ate you out like this, you hips began to move faster against his tongue chasing the pleasure he gave you but right as you were on the edge of pure bliss he pulled away and the sight you saw as he gazed up at you was down right erotic, his cheeks, lips, nose and even chin wet with a mix of your juices and his saliva, the perfect mix in his mind.

his pupils were wide and his mouth hung open as he panted, his warm breath hitting your thigh as he gently nibbled at the skin sending even more shock waves zapping up your spine, he scrambled up your body, hands pulling at his belt desperate to get his hard aching cock inside of your tight little cunt.

"why'd you stop" to say you were pissed was an understatement, he was not about to leave you high and dry again "i'm sorry" he rushed out, he knew that if he was to keep lapping at your dripping wet pussy like the feral animal he was any longer that he would cum in his pants right then and there.

"i was going to cum in my pants" he chuckled, connecting his lips to yours for the first time that night, you moaned at the taste of yourself on his tongue, his kiss was sloppy and desperate causing spit to coat both of your faces.

when you pulled away you couldn't help but smile at the sight, charles cheeks were flushed and warm from the heat radiating between your bodies, his eyes wide and your lipstick was smeared across his lips and chin "so fucking pretty" you murmured, thumb running over his bottom lip as he pulled his aching cock from the confines of his jeans.

you squeaked as he picked you up, practically manhandling you as he wrapped your legs around his waist and plunged in without warning causing your head to slam against the wall behind you "fuck" you gasped "be gentle" but he was far from gentle in this moment as he thrusted in and out of you at an unnatural speed that had your head spinning.

if anyone were to walk into the bathroom in that moment and catch you, you'd have looked like a pair of rabbits in heat from the way you were going at it.

you couldn't help but bite as his shoulder, teeth digging into his skin and drool soaking his shirt in an attempt to keep quiet but the sound of his hips slamming against yours would give you away before any moans did, the sound was wet and sticky as your hips slammed together.

a sharp pain hit you as charles fingers threaded through your hair and tugged forcefully so that he could kiss and bite at the delicate skin of your neck, marking you has his own personal fucktoy, no other man would ever fucking touch you again, not on his watch.

"you wanna come inside me joli garçon, you want me to make you a daddy" charles groaned against your shoulder at the words you whispered in his ear, a million fantasies coming to mind in that moment but pushed them all down in order to focus on you and the pleasure he was making you feel.

when he felt your pussy clench around him, his hips came to a halt, body shaking with pleasure as he released ropes and ropes of his sweet hot cum deep into your tight pussy that still clenched around his cock, milking him dry.

charles's lipstick stained swollen lips pressed against yours as you swallowed eachothers moans, his hand snuck down and started to rub at your clit, pace fast and rough, he was desperate to make you cum around him and when you finally did, juices gushing around his cock, he couldn't help but cum again at the feeling.

when it was all over he pulled his head from the crook of your neck as you both panted "holy fuck" he breathed out "that was the best fuck we've ever had" he darkly chuckled.

"i never knew you were a biter" you giggled which caused your pussy to clench around his cock again, a small shot of cum shooting out.

he slowly and gently let you down and as he kneeled down to pull your dress over your butt, he couldn't help but lean forward and lick a stripe up your thigh "fuck, it's dripping down your legs" his tone of voice told he was proud of the work he'd done.

he had fucking bred you and god did he want to do it again and again until it stuck and you were round and pregnant with his baby.

"your fucking mine now you petit diable"

you couldn't help but laugh at his words "little devil huh"

oh yeah, you were his own personal little devil and a fucking hot one at that.

"yeah, my little devil" he chuckled, lips pressing against yours sloppily once more, you both couldn't help but smile against eachothers lips,

"lets get the fuck out of here" he suggested, tangling your fingers with his own "why, you going to breed me again" you joked not knowing how fucking right you actually were.

[midnightorchids]

Jason doesn’t celebrate holidays or birthdays.

He never saw the point. Another year of getting older, of becoming a victim to capitalism, he absolutely despised it.

That was until he met you.

When you entered his life, all birthdays and holidays felt special. Maybe it was your company, or maybe it was the fact that you brought light back into his life, a light that he had buried deep inside.

Jason loved spending birthdays with you. Growing up, he never had anything special. No parties, no gifts and sometimes, not even love. However, Jason worked hard and always made sure you had everything he didn’t.

He’d wake you with waffles in the morning. A steaming cup of chai on the bedside table and a tender kiss to your forehead.

He’d smile softly and feed you the breakfast. A small “happy birthday beautiful,” escaping his lips.

In the kitchen, there would be exactly three presents.

This year, it was a novel that you had been wanting to read, a reservation to your favourite restaurant and movie tickets. It wasn’t much, but to you, it had meant everything.

The day was filled with endless laughter. He danced with you in your shared room as you got ready for the day. He pulled you in close and placed a soft kiss on your knuckles and then your lips. A shy smile adorned your face.

You walked through the city with his large hand intertwined with your own and he teasingly hummed the birthday song. You giggled and ruffled his hair in return.

At the restaurant, you both ate until there wasn’t enough room to breathe. You laughed, hard, as if no one was watching. Every so often, Jason grabbed your feet from under the table and gave them a tight squeeze with his own. A mischievous grin painted his lips.

The movies were the same. Two hours of laughter and teasing. He adored your laugh and did just about anything to hear it again.

When the day came to an end, he pulled you in close once again. His fingers laced in your hair, and a small smirk on his lips. He stared into your eyes making you flustered.

And then, when he saw the anticipation on your face, he got close to your lips. Not enough to kiss you, but just enough to feel his breath on your face, it made your skin light up in excitement.

“I’m so fucking lucky to have you in my life,” he whispered and that was enough for you.

You closed the small gap between the two of you. Your lips found their way to his own and you felt him smile through the kiss.

Jason didn’t like birthdays, but yours was always special. A beautiful reminder of that fact that he had spent another year loving you.

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

dress - m. murdock

a/n: i am not proud of this in the way that i will not be claiming it when i am judged by god. warnings: SMUT like real sex!!! dom!matt, p in v smut, matt has a thing for talking in bed, MATT BEING A TEASE!!! many nicknames, pining, praise with slight degradation, fluff here and there, tipsy reader and matt, i'm sure i'm missing one or two word count: 3.3k summary: ten months of yearning wears you and matt down to desperation. pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader now playing: dress - taylor swift "say my name and everything just stops/i dont want you like a best friend/only bought this dress so you could take it off."

Foggy is so mad at him.

You’re a good employee, a great employee even! You’re dedicated to your job, and you bake in your free time, so you bring in all sorts of treats—Homemade bagels, donuts, cookies—His favorite are your cinnamon chai sugar cookies you make.

You’re intelligent, well-spoken, and good at explaining the issues that you run into. And you’re funny, Foggy would argue, you have incredible timing and wit. You always buy a round at Josies. You are an amazing employee and friend, and Foggy adores you.

So why, pray tell, must Matt feel the need to have you?

He won’t say it out loud, not to Karen, not to Maggie, not to Foggy, and certainly not you. But he’s entranced by you. He loves the sound of your voice as you explain things, he loves that your heart always skips a beat whenever you’re about to deliver a one liner that will crack everyone else up, he loves that when you bake, you always make things all naturally out of desire to make the best dessert you possibly can. But most of all?

He loves that your heart rate picks up whenever he enters the room.

You, on the other hand, are pretty much fascinated by Matt Murdock. You love the sound of his laughter, you love his hands, you love his charm, you love that you can see a chain around his neck when the day dwindles and he loosens his tie, and Jesus H Christ, you love that baritone.

So, it’s safe to say you’ve both been smitten since the first day you met each other.

Yet, you spend ten months cruelly dancing around your attraction for each other.

He’s hesitant to want you in any context, he’s your boss, he’s fucking Daredevil!

By then you know—Mostly accidentally on purpose. All his usual people are out of town or busy, so when he gets stabbed, he has nowhere else to go. He winds up climbing into your window, scaring the ever-living shit out of you. It’s not how he wanted to tell you about his alter ego, but he knows he can trust you.

And you hate the site of blood and gore, so you struggle to patch him up that night. And it makes your heart ache, all the ways he hurts from his nighttime hobby. And he decides right then and there that he can’t have you, not now. Not knowing how much you would—and really, will—worry about him.

So, he buries his want in other people that have no real meaning to him. He even goes on a second date with some of them. One of them even comes to visit him in the office to have lunch.

It makes you jealous to the point where you need to take a walk to dwindle your desire to go back into the office and beg on your hands and knees for her to leave so you can have him. What happens instead is that you go get a pumpkin chai latte and take it back to the office, sitting and keeping to yourself, even when the girl comes out of his office giggling as he stands in the doorway as she leaves.

He smells the pumpkin from his office, and it drives him wild. Just from how quietly you dwell in your jealousy, as you mask it with your favorite fall flavors.

He breaks up with the girl the next day.

• • •

And a week later, he gets his official invitation to Marci and Foggy’s wedding—A big to do, full of family, friends and coworkers that make it a real party. Matt will be Foggy’s best man. You and Karen aren’t in the wedding party, as you were good friends with both the bride and groom, but Karen wanted to make sure at least one of them was focused on the firm, and you hated to be the center of attention. So, you shared your love from a few aisles back.

You had gone shopping with Marci for your dress, Karen too. You enjoyed spending time with them—While you had made friends with them easily, prior friends had never really come easy to you.

It was nice to be wanted.

But they had insisted on you trying to find different dresses that made you look amazing. And for the most part, the dresses made you sort of uncomfortable. They revealed too much or revealed too little.

And then you came across this red satin dress. It hugs your curves in all the right way, and it makes you look good. It makes you feel good. You have these perfect black heels to wear with them, and then Karen says it.

“You know, Matt kind of has a thing about textures. He loves silk and satin.” Your face burns. Of course, he does. Why wouldn’t he? He can hear people's heartbeats, tell when they’re lying, why wouldn’t he be keen on nice textures?

“Karen Page, are you insisting I should by this dress to impress a man?” You laugh just to escape your nerves.

“No! But it can’t hurt! It’s not like he’s bringing a date—” She turns to Marci. “He’s not bringing a date, right?” she asks quickly. It makes her laugh.

“No, Murdock RVSP’ed for one.”  You look at yourself in the mirror again, thinking it over. And over. And over. Then you turn to your friends again, and nod.

“Alright. Alright, I’ll get it.” You grin, “And y’know.. Karen’s right, It can’t make the situation any worse.”

“You know what you need now? Good lingerie for after—” Your face is red again at your friend’s comment.

“Shut up, Marci!” You whine, heading back to the dressing room to get changed.

• • •

Matt is sitting with Foggy and his brothers, enjoying a glass of scotch before the ceremony when someone knocks on the door.

And somehow, he’s not shocked to hear your nervous heartbeat when the door opens.

“Hey Fog, Karen said you had scissors—Can I borrow ‘em quick? There’s a tag on this dress I forgot to take off and it’s impossible to reach—”

“Yes, Absolutely, and you know who would be great at helping you? Matt. An incredible knack for… Cutting things.” It’s a poor attempt to get the two of you alone, yet Foggy hands you the scissors and pushes you and Matt outside the room.

“My rooms only two doors down.” He explains, taking your hand in his and leading you there.

After finding out about his super senses, it became clear that he was more than capable of finding his way through places he’s stayed, and that he’s privy to a lot more information than people would give him credit for.

So here you are. In Matt Murdock’s hotel room. A tag itching at your back, with you unable to grab it.

“I’m just gonna—” He awkwardly reaches to the top of your dress, and you just move the hair from your neck and try to ease his anxiety.

“Just go for it, Matt. I don’t care, it’s just annoying.” You promise. And he does.

He folds the top of your dress the best he can and its only enough for the scissors to almost grab the tag without him sticking his hand down your dress. He hesitates for a second before exhaling deeply.

Then, he leans down towards your back, and scrunches the material enough so that he can reach the tag and bites the tag off.

You can feel his other hand on your hip. His hot breath on your back. He hears your heart jump as your breath becomes shaky. He wonders how bad it would be for him to skip the wedding and take you right here, in this room.

He plucks the tag from his teeth and smooths out your dress, as you let go of your hair. He feels this raw need for you.

And you feel it too. Yet he pulls away, taking a step back from you.

“We should get to the ceremony.” he said, trying to catch his breath. He yearns for you, in a way that anyone else would laugh at. It’s the type of yearning you read about in Jane Austen novels. That is the level that Matt longs to touch you. It’s desperation.

“Yeah...” You say softly, trying to recover from what just happened. You drop him back off at Foggy’s suite and head back to the hall, hoping to find Karen and put the moment behind you. And that’s just what happens. You watch the ceremony, and it’s gorgeous. You’re thrilled for Marci and Foggy, and it elates you that they put together such a beautiful ceremony.

And yet, you can’t take your eyes off Matt and how good he looks. He stands tall, and he really does look good. It makes it kind of hard to focus. It makes it really hard to focus. And you think about this all the way through their first dance song, through dinner, through cake and through all the cheesy wedding traditions Foggy insisted on.

You have a few drinks but eventually it all becomes too much, and you take a minute outside of the hall and into the cold air. And you’re thinking about Matt.

“You’re gonna catch a cold out here.”

Speak of the devil.

You turn back to him and smile.

“I’ve been thinking about you.” You say, and he hums. It’s the alcohol in both of your systems, it’s why neither of you run when you say it.

“Same goes for you, sweetheart.” He takes off his coat and wraps it around your shoulders. You note the silky texture of the inside of the jacket. It pushes you further.

“Why do we insist on playing this game? Why do we watch each other go after people who we don’t want when all we want is each other?”

He takes a moment to answer. Because in truth, he’s sure he could tell you why, he could discuss all of the horrible things that have happened to him, and you could share the same sort of stories about your own life. You could sit there and dissect past traumas for hours.

But that’s not really what you’re asking.

“I don’t know...” He says softly. His hands find themselves on your hips, and he rubs small circles into the fabric. “Satin?” You hum, melting at his touch. “Words, pretty girl. You know I like hearing your voice.”

“Satin.” You confirm, your breath catching.

“There she is...” He hums, and leans in. You feel his breath against your lip, and you take it upon yourself to close the gap between the two of you.

It’s soft, full of this hesitation because despite all the flirting, you’re still unsure of yourself. He quickly eases these fears as his hands move and you find his arms wrapped around your torso. He deepens the kiss, and you both lean into it. It becomes more desperate after that.

Your hands find their way to his hair, and you fiddle with the ends, unwilling to break the kiss, even if it means air. He breaks the kiss for a second, only to come back to your lips with more passion, biting your bottom lip, before slipping his tongue into your mouth, taking the more aggressive approach.

And you can’t take it anymore. You need him. You pull away from him, pant softly before kissing his jaw gently.

“Take me to your room.” You request. He obliges.

You find yourself taking off your heels as soon as you get in, your feet aching as you walk further into the room. The context is much different than it was this afternoon—And it makes you nervous.

Matt comes up from behind you and places his hands on your arms, rubbing them gently, before kissing your shoulder.

“You don’t have to be nervous. I’ll be gentle with you...” He says softly. You hum before he continues, “Or do you... want me to be rough with you?” he asks teasingly, landing a quick bite onto your shoulder. You make a noise of surprise and turn to him.

“You’re a tease, has anyone ever told you that?”

“Once or twice.” He begins to loosen his tie, eventually forcing it off and then starting to unbutton his shirt. You begin to help him with this task, eventually getting it all the way unbuttoned. Then you gently push him back against the bed and he laughs, falling onto it.

He thinks it’s cute. Until you sit above him, your dress hiking a bit. You lean down to kiss him as his hands find their way to the back of your thighs, and begin to move up and down, just being the tease, he is.

You whine into the kiss, and it just makes him chuckle further, before flipping the pair of you over, then planting a kiss on your neck.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart? Needy from just a few kisses?” He slips off his shirt as he continues to kiss you. One hand remains on your thigh, travelling up your thigh, eventually finding your panties.

“Mhm...” You hum, your hands wrapping around his neck again to play with his hair.

“Talk to me, sweet girl...” he says softly before he continues his assault on your neck.

“Matt…” You hum. “You know, I only—” Then his fingers find your clit and begin rubbing gentle circles, just teasing you with his fingers. It turns him from tease to cruel. You let out a moan, and he only tuts in disappointment.

“Keep talking or you won’t get anything from me.” He tells you, before continuing to tease you. His fingers begin to work on your folds. You try your best to focus. He takes off your panties and throws them on the ground somewhere.

“Only bought this dress for you... Thought you might like it...” You gasp again as he slips a finger into you, “Fuck—Thought it would make you do something about it.” In fairness, it got the reaction you had only hoped for in your wildest dreams. It makes him chuckle against your skin.

“Only got this pretty little dress for me to touch you like this?” He adds another finger and starts to move. When you don’t answer, too busy getting lost in his fingers, he bites your shoulder again. “Answer me, sweetheart.”

“Yes! God, yes…” You respond. He hums in approval, continuing to curl his fingers inside of you. It only takes a few minutes before you can feel yourself near the edge of an orgasm. “Matt… Baby, please...”

“C’mon, sweet girl... I’ve got you, let go...” And it’s enough to make you, cumming all over his fingers. He lets you ride out your high, out of breath. He kisses your neck again before bringing his fingers up to his lips, tasting your juices. “Sweet girl, still.” He smirks. Your heart skips a beat. He chuckles. Then he continues, “Did so good for me, sweetheart... Wanna keep going?” He asks.

“Yes, please... Wanna feel you inside me...” you confess.

“You want me to fill you up and stretch you out, pretty girl?” You should know better by now, but you just hum in response, gaining another bite to your shoulder. “Try again.”

“Yes... I want you so badly, Matt, please... I’ve been dreaming about it for months now,” You confess, “Need you...”  He seems satisfied by this, and moves back, helping you sit up.

“Well then, we’ll need to get this pretty dress off you.” He says, his fingers working to take off his belt. Your fingers run over his chest. It’s all he can do not to rip the dress off, but he knows how much it means to you and how much it could’ve cost. So, instead, he slips the dress off you and feels you shiver against him. Still so nervous. He tosses the dress in the general direction of his suitcase, so it doesn’t sit on the floor. He leans in and starts pressing kisses to your chest, his hands reaching up to your bra and unclasping it. He throws it with much less care than the dress.

He keeps kissing down your torso as he lays you back on the bed, your hands going again to his hair.

“How come it’s fair that I’m fully naked, and you still have pants on?” You ask. It makes him laugh, and he stands straight again.

“Fair enough,” he says, taking them off. And then goes his boxers. Before you can stare at him, he’s on top of you again, kissing you deeply. You can feel his cock resting against your fold and it makes you moan into the kiss. He pulls away for just a second before asking, “Is this, okay? You’ll stop me if it’s too much?”

“Yeah, I’ll tell you.” You respond. He smiles at your words.

“Perfect. Perfect, pretty girl...” He hums as he begins to kiss your shoulders and the top of your chest, before slipping inside of you. You let out a moan, and he groans as well, taking a few minutes to take all of you in. It feels amazing. He begins to move inside of you as he brings you in for another kiss. When he pulls away, he’s talking, “Been thinking about this for... Fuck, so long...” He groans. “Been dreaming of this perfect pussy and how good it would feel around me…” He says, and it elicits a shaky moan from you.

“Faster, please...” You request, and he obliges, picking up the pace. You’ve been thinking about this for a long time too. You never imagined he’d be so controlling about the whole thing. It works you up almost as much as how vocal he is.

He leaves bites and marks down your chest as he pulls you closer to him, knowing he won’t last much longer. He feels you tighten around him and makes another demand, “Tell me how badly you want to cum, and I’ll let you.” He says this before planting a rather contrasting soft kiss to your ear.

“Please... Please, Matt, Fuck... I need to cum all over your cock... Wanna feel so good, baby...” You moan, your fingers pulling on his hair. It excites you when he moans. “And I want you to cum inside me... Fill me up, Baby, please...” You beg. He’s happy with it for now, but he knows he’ll want to hear more another time.

“C’mon, sweet girl. Cum for me…” He pants, and it’s all you need before you let yourself come undone around his cock. He continues thrusting for a few minutes, letting you ride out your high, before cumming himself, and you moan at the feeling. He lays against you for a few minutes, trying to recover, and it’s then that you notice he’s shaking.

“Are you okay?” You ask softly, brushing his hair out of his face. He looks at you with those gorgeous brown eyes. He laughs at your question.

“I’m great... You’re just... amazing...” he says honestly, kissing your shoulder one more time. “Perfect, pretty girl...” He praises. “My perfect girl...” It makes you shudder. He stays like this for a moment more before kissing you softly. Then, he sits up and goes to get a towel to clean the both of you up. And then, he’s back in bed with you. He pulls you close as you both recover from what just happened.

“I wasn’t lying,” You start, “I’ve been thinking about you for months. You’re all I’ve wanted for so long...” You confess. He kisses your head and pulls you closer.

“Me too... I was too much of an idiot to tell you though. Almost let you get away.”

“You got me.” You affirm. He hums and begins to rub all too familiar circles into your hips with his thumbs.

“And now I just want you more.”

The feeling is mutual.

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

reader pronouns: she/her Glenn was up early. Maggie was still sleeping and she needed it... so he'd headed downstairs and dug through the cabinets until he found an old box of chai tea. He'd put on the kettle, poured his own cup and a spare, and sat himself down at the kitchen island, and he waited.

And right on time, Daryl's boots shuffled up the stairs from the basement and he dragged himself into the kitchen to face another day.

"Hey," Glenn greeted him kindly. Daryl looked up, struck by someone else being awake at the early hour.

Daryl tried to answer, but nothing came out at first until he cleared his throat, and then he managed a gravelly, 'Hey" in return.

"You look terrible," Glenn said sympathetically.

"...Thanks," Daryl growled back. Then he noticed that there was a second cup of tea sitting on the kitchen island beside Glenn. Swirls of steam lazily rose and drifted in the air.

"Come on and sit down for a minute. I think we should talk," Glenn said. He gestured to the stool in front of the mug.

Daryl hesitated, but then went to join him.

"I think I know why you've been looking so rough lately," Glenn said.

Daryl stared back at him, his blue eyes narrowed in something remarkably like suspicion. "I just ain't slept—"

"—since she left," Glenn interrupted. "I know. And it's not exactly a coincidence. Is it?" he asked.

Daryl shifted nervously and dropped his gaze to the counter, to his boots, to the mug sitting untouched in front of him, to anything except Glenn.

"When Maggie and I got separated after—after the prison... it was agony. I mean, I really thought that if I couldn't find her... I'd just give up and die. That would be it, you know? Because nothingness seemed like the better option compared to living without her." Daryl's blue eyes furtively glanced up to meet Glenn's. "But I knew, I knew, that she was out there. And that kept me going and it was the only thing that could put my world right again. So I did everything I could in my power to make that happen."

Daryl gulped and chewed on the inside of his cheek for a moment, so hard that he tasted the tang of copper. "Why're ya tellin' me this?" he drawled, his voice gritty and tired.

"You know why. She's the one who sets your world right. And if that's true... then you have to go after her and bring her back. Whatever it takes. You have to find her and tell her. And I'm not telling you anything that you don't already know. I'm just trying—to... speed it along a little, I guess," he said with a dry laugh and a sympathetic look. "Whatever is stopping you—" Glenn shook his head, "fuck it. Do it. Set your world right, Daryl. You can't keep going like this. More than that, you shouldn't." Prompt: "I haven't slept since she left." A/N: I'm not crying. It's just raining on my face...

[ew-selfish-art]

My brain is unwilling to let go of Twin AU prompts. Sorry for the long post lmao.

Jazz and Jason are getting pretty serious in their relationship, and honestly, they’ve both been hesitant to introduce their family members to one another despite constantly talking about them. They’ve been dating since she started her doctoral studies at Gotham U and she’s about to defend her dissertation, so it really is about time. He saved her in her first week as the Red Hood and he immediately felt at home with her (something, something liminal), she runs into him the next day at a coffee shop and thanks him for taking the time to help her. 

Identities are obviously blown. Jason knows that her brother works in ‘politics’ and her younger sister is a travel blogger, and that the three of them don’t talk to her mad scientist parents anymore. Jazz knows that he came back from the dead, his adoptive family had a slew of issues in addition to their hero-complexes and that he would be prepared to kill for any one of his siblings. Their communication skills are top notch. 

But then came the issue of actually meeting the family. Like Jazz knows all of the drama between the siblings but could not pick them out of a line up, or more importantly, know who to talk to if an emergency situation came up. Jason agrees, that yeah, it would probably be for the best if he could at least identify her little brother and sister if they had to like, meet at hospital or something. 

So that was the plan. Invite just siblings over to their shared apartment, no parents and no fuss. (She even called Danny ahead of time to tell him not to portal straight into the apartment, he needed to walk in the door like a normal person. They could share Ghost King secrets later.) 

Tim arrives first, he’d been working a case nearby and Jazz & Jason live pretty close to a nice coffeeshop, so he stopped along the way. He’d done some creeping to figure out that she drinks Chai so he brought one for her. Creepy and yet, endearing. 

Ellie comes in second from the window, launching into a story about how annoying it was to find the place with all the gloom, didn’t this city have any respect for the dead? Tim doesn’t get it but Jason is laughing along so Tim files it away for later. 

Dick comes in with a shit ton of Pizza he panic ordered, a fruit bouquet and two bottles of wine from Bruce’s cellar. Duke came along with him, a large tupperware of Alfred’s cookies. 

Then Steph, Babs and Cass show up, immediately treating Jazz like family while also being hella suspicious about the whole thing. She notices them looking at her hands and Jazz explains that no, they weren’t doing this because Jason proposed. Steph and Cass are annoyed at Jason but tell Jazz she could do better if she wanted. Babs is happy they aren’t rushing into anything (she’s the only one besides Tim that knows how long they’ve been dating- this is just to throw out a red herring for the others)

Everyone is getting along and having a great time, Ellie being a natural entertainer along side Dick, everyone trying to tell embarrassing stories about Jason. Loud noises are coming from the hallway when they realize that neither Damian nor Danny had arrived. 

Rushing out the door, the boys are alternating putting each other into choke holds and arguing about not being clones. Danny keeps phasing out of Damian’s grip and Damian keeps pulling out more knives. The hallway looks like it had been blown up and the two are continuing to yell at one another about going to a family dinner. Jason and Jazz just stare at them from the doorway, and wouldn’t you know it, they look like fucking twins. 

Jazz grabs Danny, Jason grabs Damian, and everyone is fucking confused. Both sides of the family can confirm growing up with the twins, that neither are a clone. Ellie helpfully supplies that she’s the clone and that opens a whole other bag of chaos. 

Eventually they get everyone to sit down for dinner and the night gets weirder from there. 

[bahrtofane]

just your luck to have your favorite study spot taken, even if he’s cute, you’ve decided you’re enemies now. jude thinks other wise

word cout - 800+

watch it - puff fluff and silliness

-----

5.43 pm, 4th floor library. partly cloudy but pleasant early october day. not cold enough just yet for snow but chilly enough for cute sweaters. 

halloween is just around the corner, then thanksgiving. winter break is so close ! life is good. great even. smooth sailing. you have a celebratory donut from the cafe downstairs in one hand, and chai in the other. a little treat for the exam you just finished. 

you hum a song aimlessly under your breath as you maneuver around students and staff to get to your place. 

it’s a hidden jem. up on the top floor, allll the way back in the farthest left corner lies a tiny nook with a bean bag that overlooks campus in the prettiest way. Large triangle window with tiny little details in its fixtures.  it’s quiet, calm, and you actually get work done there. 

no ever comes up and it’s peace between the hectic campus life and extreme party culture. you're thinking of maybe just getting comfy and watching a movie today. a blanket would be nice, you could bring one next time, that one that-

your train of thought is derailed faster than it can recover.

your safe haven has been invaded.

there’s a man ! in your spot !! uhg. 

you can't believe it after almost half a semester of serenity the one thing you had is ripped away from you. mid chai, donut and all. the cruelty of the world has never seemed more apparent. you are reminded again that as soon as you can get comfortable, your ripped away and thrown back to reality. 

are you being dramatic ? yes. do you care ? no

the audacity of some people. 

you know logically this isn’t your spot. it’s in the public library where any student can sit and it’s good to share, morals are good. but holy fuck do you hope the guy who’s all cozied up has a fantastic time and maybe trips out the window. 

you resort to having to use a table like some commoner. 

——-

day 2, 4:30 pm. 4th floor. this time, you're sure everything was just a fluke and you’ll be back in business in no time. comfy cozy spot with pretty window. 

your inner peace gets squashed as yet again, your spot is being occupied. this time you need to look into the eyes of the criminal. 

you choose a seat facing the bean bag and set up shop to judge and send him bad vibes. 

unexpectedly, he’s pretty cute even from far away. handsome even. he’s got one of those faces people remember, his features sit so nice and the way he’s basically burying his face into a text book is a little cute you won’t lie. but this doesn’t change anything. 

he’s your enemy. regardless if he’s aware of it or not. 

you soon tune him about in favor of getting work done, but don’t miss the occasional glaces he gives you. 

how interesting. 

——-

your friends tell you this is the start of some enemies to lovers after you fill them in. but you don’t agree. 

especially now that it's the 3rd time. 

you think he’s quite stupid. no amount of pretty smiles and shy glances is going to change the fact that he stole your special once secret library spot. he’s ruined your life ! this is the third time he’s done so. there’s no way you're going to forgive this behavior. 

never mind you don’t know his name or the fact that you’ll most likely never talk to him. your rage runs deep, silent and personal. 

you hope his socks are wet for the next month. 

you might even start a diary just to be able to complain about him in a stupid amount of detail. whatever. 

you spend the next hour or so typing a little aggressively while hoping he bursts into flames or disappears. funny enough, while you take a little social media break, you look up to find him gone. it would be good riddance, expect for the fact that he appears in front of you not a moment later. 

“um, hi?” are the timid words that come from him. his voice does not match the face wow. 

though, he’s even more attractive up close. 

“hello? can i help you?” you try 

“yeah um, actually. i wanna apologize.” 

your left in awe. is he going to apologize for his thievery? is the criminal going to confess his guilt. is this the end of your rage. 

“ i know the bean bag is your spot because you come in at the same time i do and always use it. “

you narrow your eyes, “so you decided to take it because?”

he scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, “um actually i just think you’re really cute and couldn’t think of another excuse to talk to you. my bad.”

“for the record i’m still very mad you took my spot. “ you sigh, not really though. You just like to be drammtic, but he eats it right up. cute.

he nods quickly. “understood. how about i take you out to make up for it ?”

you hum, “i’d like that. “

he smiles, “great. can i get your number to plan it out ?”

“mhm”

and with that your left with your spot now yours again. and a blooming possibility on the horizon. 

[jewish-vents]

I am about ready to scream at goyim going "imagine if a country that was mostly one religion committed genocide other than Israel! imagine any other country being that awful!" I AM JEWISH AND CHOCTAW. My people have been massacred, forced off our land, raped, beaten, killed, death marched down to Oklahoma, forced into residential schools, been denied tribal membership and access to the reservation (and our own fucking culture) for being too light-skinned, Christians came in and beat and killed and raped everyone trying to practice our ancestral religion, Christian charity was contingent on you being willing to go along with Christianity, the government that has its' boot on our neck to this day is Christian, and goyim really want to act like NO ONE religious has ever done anything bad other than (((some people)))?! Choctaw women are STILL raped and beaten by police at four times the rate of white people and you know what the dominant religion in the state it's being done is? Hint, it's not Judaism!

Do you know why my ancestors converted, goyim? It's because the only people who ever offered them any kindness or support who weren't asking them to give up their language, culture and way of life were Jewish. The only people who agreed being forced off of your land and death marched to Oklahoma was fucked up were Jewish people. The only one who would let my great-great-great-great grandfather work for an honest day's pay and pay him the same amount they would a white person was a Jewish man. When white people wanted to take my great-great-great grandfather and his sister and put them in an Evangelical school to indoctrinate and mistreat them, it was a Jewish woman who straight up lied to them and went, "oh they're not Native, they're my kids, actually! no need to take them anywhere, they're not Native, they're white, the father of my bastards is just tan from working outside a lot!" and thus kept them out of there. They converted because they saw the love of G-d and it sure as shit wasn't from Christians!

And people see me and they think, "oh, he's not white, so he must not be Jewish. I can say antisemitic shit in front of him" and it makes me want to go fucking feral. Do they think I just forgot why my ass is in Oklahoma and why I can speak English and Yiddish and not fluent Choctaw? Do they think I forgot who gave my family a plot of land to live on when my ancestors were declared too light skinned to be allowed to live on the reservation while also not being able to return home because white Christians had built a town atop the ruins of my people's land? Because it wasn't you, Karen. You would have been saying Native kids were better off at a residential school and we both know it! We know it because you're fine hating a minority if you just have something you can spin into an excuse and you're fine dehumanizing people if the opportunity presents itself. "Imagine if any other religion-" I don't have to imagine. I'm in Okla-fucking-homa, Karen!

I've been observant all my life but this has switched it from 'lazily observant' to 'digging my heels in and being as Jewish as humanly possible' for the same reason I work my ass off learning Choctaw despite the obstacles: white goyim do not own me and I do not owe it to them to conform to their culture and expectations.

Am Yisrael Chai Akostininchi li Yisrael

(yes I know how to say it in Choctaw, my parents embedded that in my psyche, even if the rest of our knowledge of the language is spotty)

.

[imfinereallyy]

I wonder if you look both ways (When you cross my mind) pt. 3

a nice long update for ya ♡ part 1 part 2

cw: internalized homophobia and projecting internalized homophobia (from an oc)

🐝･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･✦ʚɞ

June 1996, Chicago

Steve's first steps into his living room are not met with silence and sunshine; in fact, he is met with two surprises.

The first being Eddie Munson still in his apartment.

Steve rubs the tired out of his eyes, squishing his palm into his lids in hopes of shaking out a morning delusion. He is proven unsuccessful..

His second surprise is that Eddie is awake, staring at Steve in high alert, blankets folded neatly (he must have scrounged around for them in the night, not that Steve minds), sitting patiently as if he has been waiting for hours for Steve's arrival.

If the second surprise hadn't happened, Steve might have excused the first. See, Eddie, in all the years he had known him, had been anything but an early riser, usually choosing to sleep the day away. So if he had been asleep still, Steve might have let him being in his apartment slide.

Steve ponders how he doesn't really know Eddie anymore, so he shouldn't actually be surprised.

Eddie clears his throat, "So, how about that talk?"

Steve has to resist shutting his eyes to relish in the sound of Eddie's deep timbre. His voice has grown scratchy over the years—from singing or cigarettes, Steve can't be sure. It feels like coming home, either way, to have his voice brush over him.

Instead, Steve clears his throat back. "Don't have time; maybe try again in another five years." He moves to the kitchen to start making their morning drinks—hot coffee with cream for Robin and an iced dirty chai for Steve.

When Dustin had been working at a cafe back when he was in college, he made Steve try all of their new drinks. Surprisingly his favorite became a dirty chai—something which Robin finds hilarious.

Steve grabs the chipped green mug from the cabinet and begins pouring Robin's coffee. It had already been hot and ready in the pot, which probably meant Eddie had prepped it for him. Steve doesn't comment.

Eddie huffs through his nose, "C'mon Stevi—Steve. It's ten in the morning on a Saturday. You can't tell me you're busy right now."

Steve has to resist slamming Robin's mug down on the counter, already having being put together after the 1994 incident, he doesn't want to face her wrath.

Gently placing it on the counter, Steve turns. "Actually, I have somewhere to be at twelve, not that you need to know that. And don't act like you know what's going on in my life, Munson."

Eddie smiles, a little laugh escapes him. God, it is like a fucking drug after years of being sober that laugh. Steve wants to beg him for another hit, even though he knows it's bad for him.

With the smile never leaving his face, Eddie raises his hands. "Okay, okay. You're right."

"Why are you smiling? This isn't funny." Steve huffs.

Eddie's face softens, "Sorry, just even though you're mad at me. You're talking to me, and shit, sweetheart. I would take that over silence any day. It's nice to hear your voice."

Steve has to force himself to keep his shoulders tense, wanting to sag into Eddie. He's still mad at him, furious even. But some part of him agrees deep down, this is nice.

He can never let Eddie know that.

"Fuck off, Munson. I have shit to do. I'm sure you're too busy anyway."

Eddie shakes his head, hair falling in front of his face. "No, trust me I have nothing else going on. The band is on hiatus. And even if we weren't, trust me when I say this is exactly where I am supposed to be right now."

Steve can't help the snort that comes out of him, "Funny you're asking me to trust you, asshole. That went out the door with your bags five years ago."

Eddie flinches back, "Okay, I deserve that one."

Steve doesn't mention to Eddie how he knows his band has been on hiatus for over a year now. How he's kept up on the band, even after Eddie left. How he is curious why they went on hiatus at all, they have two successful albums, and supposedly were working on their third, when suddenly they all decided it was time for a break.

Peak of their career, and they chose silence. Normally, a horrible career move, but it seems it makes the rock community want them even more.

Steve can understand that partially. When it comes to Eddie, you can't help but want more, even when he disappears without a trace.

"I got to go get ready. Seriously, Munson. I know you think I don't mean it when I say leave. I think you're stuck on the Steve from five years ago, and how the Steve from then wouldn't really mean it. But this is the Steve now. And Steve from now means it when he says, get the fuck out. Go find someone else who could actually use your presence, like Dustin. God knows the kid deserves a phone call."

Eddie opens his mouth to protest, but doesn't get to chance to say his peace, Steve's already on his way back to his bedroom with their drinks in hand.

🐝･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･✦ʚɞ

Steve is running late.

It's not his fault, he has a fucking ghost haunting his living room, and it takes him ten times longer to work around it. Robin tells him to cancel his lunch, but Steve doesn't, even though she's right.

Robin's always right.

Steve can't help but feel a little smug when thinking back to leaving his apartment, though. He looks good, wearing his nicest Levi's and soft white button-up. Steve had made sure to keep the top few buttons undone, showing off his gold necklaces that landed perfectly on his exposed chest hair.

For Drew, of course, not for Eddie.

Still, Steve knows he looks good. So when he leaves his apartment and Eddie doesn't even bother to try to talk to him again because he is just too busy staring at Steve.

Steve makes it to the restaurant only five minutes late. It would have been on time if it had been in his athletic prime.

Resturant, Steve realizes, is a bit of a stretch. It appears to be a cafe--but not one of those cozy ones with crazy colors and a fun name. No, this cafe is incredibly fancy. Everything is so sleek and high up, the name in an Italian word he'll have to asked Robin to translate later.

Steve looks around the cafe in a huff, realizing Drew is nowhere to be found. He is momentarily flooded with relief, knowing he has beaten Drew to the cafe.

Steve finds a table in a corner and waits. His brief relief is quickly swept away into annoyance as he sits there for minutes with no signs of Drew.

It takes another thirty minutes, before Drew is finally at the cafe.

"Sorry, I'm late, baby." He says breath even. Steve knows he was in no rush to be here on time. He doesn't move to kiss Steve, not on the cheek and certainly not on the mouth. Drew isn't one for PDA, or so he says. Instead, he smooths down his dark blue Armani suit and sits across from Steve.

"You know, you could give me a kiss. I haven't seen you in a week." Steve decides to move past his being late; there is no point in arguing. If it had been him, Steve is sure he would never hear the end of it.

"Sweetheart..." Drew whispers and brushes his hand against Steve's knee. Steve's lip twitches; he doesn't like it when Drew calls him that. "You know it isn't safe to do that."

Steve wants to throw Drew's hand off of him, but he doesn't. It's always like this between them, Steve wants more, and Drew pulls back. It's beginning to feel tiresome, this game between them. They have been dating for a year and have made no progress in public. Steve's lucky Robin gets to know, seeing as basically no one else in either of their lives knows about each other. For Steve, everyone knows of Drew but not his name. For Drew, Steve is almost sure no one even knows he's gay.

Steve wants to hit himself for the thought. It's unfair of him to put these expectations on Drew, everyone comes out at their own pace. He would be a hypocrite if he pushed him; it had taken him nineteen years to figure out he was bisexual. Took Eddie leaving for him to come out to anyone other than Robin.

It feels different somehow with Drew, though. Like this isn't him scared to come out, but more like Drew doesn't actually see a future with Steve. It had taken them six months to even label themselves as boyfriends, moving from late-night booty calls to watching a movie together in Steve's living room in the middle of a Tuesday.

Steve rubs his temples instead of smacking Drew's hand away. Steve feels tired of this cycle. He knows this is the best he's going to get when it comes to dating. With women, they often want him to admit that he was experimenting, wanting to shun parts of himself away. That or they are convinced he's gay. Well, he is, but it's more than that, and they don't seem to get it.

With men, it's the opposite problem. Either they need him to admit being bisexual is just something he used to make himself feel better, or they are only looking for a quick hookup.

Hookups are nice, but approaching thirty, Steve wants something real and is perhaps sick of finding out the man he brings home from the bar is married.

He knows this is the best he's going to get.

"Maybe if we met a cafe in my neighborhood, we could be a bit more affectionate. The one down the block has a rainbow flag and everything."

Drew scrunches his nose, "Why do that when we can get nice coffee like this?"

Steve doesn't point out that neither Drew nor himself has ordered coffee. Steve can't afford the coffee here, and Drew was late. "I think that's your way of saying where I live isn't nice."

Drew grabs his hand under the table, "No, babe, I don't want to fight today. I've missed you."

Steve feels bad; he has missed Drew. Despite their ups and downs (and Robin's grumbles), Steve does care for him. "You're right, I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it. Besides, I did want to have lunch for a reason." Drew smiles brightly. Steve can't help but stare for a minute. It's no surprise what hooked Steve the first moment they met at the club. He is a classic kind of handsome. Wavy brown hair cut to look proper, a shiny white smile, piercing blue eyes. Nothing about him is soft, he is full of sharpness that takes you from across the room.

He's the kind of guy Steve's parents would have loved if they were okay with Drew being a guy—if Steve was even talking to them at all.

"Oh yes, you've got me on the edge of my seat." Steve jokes.

Drew gives him a charming smile, "There's my funny guy."

Steve rolls his eyes.

"So I have a big question for you..."

Steve freezes up; oh no. Here it comes. The talk, the let's move into together speech. One he'll have to turn down. No one ever gets it. How he can't live without Robin. Literally and physically.

"....so Greg says there's an opening and I think you'd be a great fit."

Steve shakes himself out of his thoughts, "What?"

Drew levels him with a look. "A job? For you?"

Oh. "I already have a job."

It's Drew's turn to roll his eyes, "C'mon, Steve. A high school guidance counselor? You could do so much more."

"I like my job, Drew. We've been through this. Besides, you barely want to be seen together, and now you want to work together? I have no interest in working at a law firm."

Drew pinches his nose, "Just...just think about it, okay? I want to see more of you in any way I can."

Steve doesn't want to fight. The fight left him a long time ago. "Okay."

He doesn't mean it.

🐝･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･✦ʚɞ

aaah im loving where this is going, also I swear it gets better soon and this has a happy ending!! also thanks for the love and support. This will probably be the last part where I will take tag requests for the series so please ask now, cause its getting too long. But parts will always be updated on the previous posts and my page!!

tag list!:

@stevesbipanic @withacapitalp @emryyyyy09 @brainfugk @blueberrylemontea-fanfic

@slv-333 @thetinymm @connected-dots-st-reblogger @helpimstuckposting @dreamercec

@goodolefashionedloverboi @stripey82 @little2nerdy @anne-bennett-cosplayer @resident-gay-bitch

@ghostquer @sourw0lfs @devondespresso @yesdangerpls

@lingermirth

@adealwithher @antonymeanonyme @stevah-hawcett @samsoble @mugloversonly

@stripey82 @anaibis @mycatsstolemybiscuit @flustratedcas @alfhitchblonde

@s0ft-strawberries @slavicviking @theheadlessphilosopher

@l1lpip @emmabubbles @arepaconchocolate

@thesuninyaface @hallo-spaceb0y @dykelips @bookbinderbitch @valinwonderland

[samkerrworshipper]

a whore’s punishment | sam kerr x reader

yeah literally the most smuttiest smut i’ve ever written… i implore even my non sammy fans to take a look because it’s literal filth x10 and even though im in a sam slump this literally lit me up.

warnings: smut smut smut, spanking using belt and paddle, phone sexting, dildo usage, fingering, vibrator usage, overstimulation, orgasm deprivation, safe word usage, aftercare. 18+ minors dni.

“What the fuck were you thinking?”

It’s the agitated and slightly angry voice of your girlfriend as she closes the front door behind her that captures your attention, you don’t remove your eyes from their focus on the tv, you knew better than to make eye contact.

“You were running late for dinner, what was I supposed to do?”

You could hear Sam stamping her shoes off, you knew she’d finally managed to toe them off when the sound of her padded feet stomping down the entrance hallway broke the noise barrier.

“Does that seriously warrant you sending me videos when I sent you a text saying I was being kept later for some media?”

No. Was the right answer, and if you weren’t in a bit of a bratty mood you would have said so, but Sam had been training everyday of the week recently, she came home tired, hungry and grumpy most nights. Not that you really minded, but it had been a week since you’d gone past the point of gentle morning kisses, and you were getting sick of it. No matter what you tried, she resisted. You tried to sneak into her morning showers, just for her to tell you that she couldn’t be late. You tried to straddle her when you were watching tv at night, just for her to tell you that she was feeling tired. You understood, it was understandable, but you also had needs, needs that your girlfriend needed to fucking take care of.

“You promised me dinner, if I get a little bit bored whilst you're running late then you can’t really blame me, there’s leftovers in the fridge.”

In situations like these there were generally two ways Sam reacted, prolonged gratification or instant gratification. She would either ignore you, until you were begging for her attention and then when you were begging for her she’d punish you, or she’d deal with you know. It typically was dependent on a few different factors, mood, hunger level, horniness level and annoyance level.

“Come here.”

Sam’s voice was flat, not a real indicator of her mood. You hesitated for a few seconds before getting up, keeping your eyes focused on the floor and not Sam.

She was standing at the kitchen counter, her keys and phone laid out miscellaneously on the quartz bench.

You tiptoed closer to her, keeping a safe enough distance but close enough that you were within arms reach if she took a step forward.

“Look at me, pet.”

That was new, not unwanted but new, pet names were a norm but the one ‘pet’ was completely new.

“Y/n eyes on me.”

The use of your full name was enough to pull your eyes from Sam’s socks, slowly trailing up her Chelsea sweatpants and matching long sleeve top, raking up her body until you met her eyes. They were set, slightly darkened, her jaw was locked but there wasn’t any obvious anger in her facial features.

“I told you I was going to miss dinner, at 10 o’clock when I got to training and Emma told Mills and I that we had to stay late for some Media, it wasn’t my fault. Now, can you remind me what the rule is about you touching yourself and orgasming without my permission?”

Sam’s voice was even, patient, your body craved it, craved her attention like this.

“That I’m not allowed to do it without your permission unless we’re in different countries.”

Your voice was a slight murmur, your eyes falling from Sam’s direct line of sight to avoid the penetrating glance she was giving you.

“That’s right, now let’s have a look at what you sent me, hmm?”

Sam picked up her phone from the kitchen counter and you couldn’t help but smirk to yourself a little bit as she quickly opened up her phone and your text messages, revealing a chain of texts from you, the first one being a single sentence before the onslaught of videos and images.

‘Should have come home earlier’

Sam clicked on the video immediately below that text, the screen was blank for a few seconds, before the camera was turned around to you, lying in your shared bed, fingers deep in your heat, pumping wildly in and out of your pussy whilst you moaned theatrically at the camera. You couldn’t help but snort, which received a fairly pointed look from Sam. The video went for a little bit too long, it became a little bit showy towards the end, you made notes for your future self.

Sam flicked her thumb across the screen, revealing a video of you in the shower, this time you were rubbing madly at your clit, the warm wash of the shower coming down on your body, your head thrown back against the tiles. This video didn’t go for as long, and it wasn’t quite as graphic but it got the message across. Sam’s thumb swiped against the screen once again, and the videos were superseded by a series of explicit images of yourself, in a series of compromised positions.

Once she’d flicked through them all she put her phone back on the table, there was a lot of disapproval on her face, her eyebrow cocked and her jaw locked.

“Was it just the two orgasms or were there more?”

Sam’s hand came to find your jaw, pulling it upwards so that you were forced to look her in the eyes.

“Just the two.”

Sam nodded slowly, the cogs in her brain were clearly turning over and over.

“Okay so two orgasms, and touching yourself. You sent four photos of you, but I’ll be nice and count it as one infraction. So that’s three all together, which means three punishments, any disagreements?”

You shook your head. Sam’s lips perked up into a sardonic smile, her tongue licking against her lips as she looked down at you.

“Strip and then over the counter babygirl, ass up.”

You nodded slowly, reaching down for the hem of the sports bra you were wearing and pulling it over your head, without any hesitation. You gently handed the bra over to Sam, before moving down to the waistband of your cotton shorts and tugging them down your hips, your panties coming down with them. You stepped out of them cautiously before handing over the other articles of clothing to Sam.

You stood in front of her for a few seconds, you felt so small next to her, so vulnerable, which you supposed was her intention. You gulped before moving towards the counter, and very slowly leaning over the top of it. You felt your nipples pebble up against the cold surface as soon as they made contact with the bench, your body reacting to the positively freezing contrast to your warm skin.

“Don’t move, and don’t even think about touching yourself, I’ll be back in a minute.”

You obeyed Sam’s order as she walked out of the kitchen and presumably into your bedroom, although you couldn’t tell for sure because you were facing the opposite way and you were smart enough not to disobey Sam when she already had plans to punish you.

You could hear her rustling around, presumably in your toy drawer but it was nothing more than an educated guess, a mere hypothesis about the plotting of your meticulous girlfriend.

You found your body shivering slightly over the counter, your muscles weren’t used to being stretched at this kind of angle and it was beginning to cramp your hips, if that was what 30 seconds did you were a little bit worried about whatever Sam had planned for the rest of the night.

You weren’t left to think on your own very long, the sound of Sam’s soft feet falling against the floorboards as she came back into the kitchen.

You heard her drop a series of items on the bench behind you, and then you were overwhelmed by near complete silence.

The only noise left in the room was the sound of you and Sam breathing and the low hum of the AC from the living room.

“What’s your safeword, pet?”

It took you a few seconds to process Sam’s words, your brain seemingly ticking along slowly with the lack of stimulation.

“Traffic light system. Red to stop. Yellow to slow down. Green to go ahead. If I’m gagged or can’t speak I can click three times or tap your thigh three times.”

Sam’s body felt so close to yours, and yet so far away at the same time, it was insufferable.

“Good, if you feel spacey or sick or unwell?”

It never seemed to amaze you just how much care Sam took even when she was mad with you, at the end of the day your safety mattered more than anything to her.

“I tell you immediately, if I feel faint or seriously not okay then I safeword or do whatever I need to to stop the scene.”

It sounded obtuse, but there had been times when such problems had arisen.

“Good memory baby, what colour are you?”

You took a deep breath, trying to keep some of your composure, but Sam’s voice, the overwhelming knowledge that there was more to come was causing a big collection of wetness pooling at the pinnacle of your thighs and slowly beginning to drip down them.

“G-Green.”

The hesitation in your voice came from the uncertainty that was your predicament. You felt so untouched, so exposed, which you supposed was what Sam was going for.

Then all of a sudden her hand was on your back, her touch feather light but it was something, and you keened into it, her touch completely welcome along your back.

Her hands weren’t there long though, instead snaking up to the highest point of your back and transitioning across the sides of your neck, until her hands were on your face, the feeling of her hovering a few centimetres above overbearingly too good to be true.

You didn’t get to appreciate the feeling for very long, before Sam’s hands were pulling a piece of satin across your eyes and tying the piece of material off at the back of your head, leaving you completely deprived of your vision. Everything else slowly heightened after this, your ears perking up and the nerves across your body jolting as you realised that Sam’s body had been removed from yours as quickly almost as soon as it had initiated contact.

You felt the loss more than anything, you craved her touch, craved the feeling of her skin on your own, and she knew that. She knew that deprivation was one of your biggest weaknesses, that it had you buckling at the knees for her, because there was nothing you hated more than forcefully being removed from the arms of your lover.

You heard Sam pick something up from the bench, and just as soon as the sound had hit your ears you felt the crack of Sam’s hand connecting with your ass. The feeling, then the sound, then the pain. It wasn’t really pain, just a sharp shoot of sensation crossing your ass cheek as you flinched away from the unexpected and unwanted touch.

“Count them for me.”

YOu gulped, swallowing down the big lump that had formed in your throat.

“One, thank you Sam.”

You didn’t have to wait much longer for her hand to come down on your ass, the sound rebounded off the walls, cacophonous as it reached your ears. The pain was mild, but it was enough to lift you up onto your toes, your body welcoming the contact but also adjusting to the mixture of pain and pleasure.

“Two thank you Sam.”

The next eight strikes were similar, the strikes started to become a little bit harder, a little bit more forceful, Sam seemingly unwavered by the small groans of pain that were leaving your lips every time her hand connected with the flesh across your ass.

When she finally got to ten you heard her take a few steps away from you, and then pick something up from the counter behind you before returning to her position hovering somewhere to the right of you.

You didn’t have very much time to hover over her whereabouts, before the sound of leather slapping against your skin hit your ears. The feeling of a slightly rounded, leather paddle cascading down across your bare skin sent a different kind of sensation across your body, the more vicious material searing against your skin and leaving a lingering feeling. You groaned in pain, your brain all consumed by the tingles that were making their way across the nerve paths along your butt.

“Colour?”

You felt your brain resurface, the realisation of your actual predicament setting in and your instinct kicking in.

“Green, 11, thank you Sam.”

Your words were said with tears building up behind your eyes and a choken sob halfway up your throat. Sam had spanked you far harder, this wasn’t anywhere even close to the threshold you had for pain, but for some reason it didn’t assist you whatsoever in stopping from choking up like a baby.

“You can stop counting for now, just take some deep breaths baby, you’re almost halfway there.”

Sam’s hand rested itself on the low point of your back, her cooling touch soothing the space above the burning expanse across your ass cheeks.

Just as you began to relax into her touch, she struck again, and again, and again, and again. You bit down hard on your tongue, hard enough to silence the sobs that were beginning to generate in the back of your throat.

“I better not find any blood in your mouth once we’re done, or else you’ll be dealing with a whole different punishment, make as much noise as you need, but you better not be hurting yourself in the process, that’s my job.”

You quickly unclamped your jaw, opening your mouth slightly to take open breaths, trying your very hardest to slow down all of the thoughts that were running wild in your brain.

Before you could ponder on them for too long, the paddle came raining down on your ass again, five more times.

You weren’t quite sure whether Sam’s pressure was increasing or whether it was just the repetitive feeling of the leather falling on brandished skin, but either way it was starting to burn, and you could no longer hold back the deep, guttural sobs that were building up, you knew it would do nothing to tug on Sam’s heartstrings, once she set out to do something, she did it, but you knew that it would make her realise that you were genuinely sorry and that you were feeling the repercussions of your actions.

“Last ten pet, almost done.”

You heard Sam put the paddle down on the counter with a thud, then you heard the sound of leather and metal, and your breath caught in your throat at the realisation of what Sam had procured. You felt your tits tremble against the counter, and your pussy clenching as it waited for whatever Sam had planned next.

You weren’t left to wait very long.

You heard the swish and the crack before you felt anything, and when you did your knees almost buckled from underneath you.

“Colour?”

It took you a few seconds to adjust to the pain that the belt inflicted, it was more targeted, more precise, it lit a literal fire on your ass.

“Green.”

Sam had used a belt on you a handful of times, you were used to it, and it definitely wasn’t something that was out of your comfort zone, but it took some adjusting to, especially on your already warm ass.

It cracked down on you once again, and you let out a deep, breathy sob, the tears leaking down your face steadily as you took in a deep breath, the silk blindfold soaking up some of the tears. You were using the bench as a means to keep yourself from buckling down onto the floor, without the bench there you were fairly certain you’d be a heap of bones on the floor.

Sam struck three more times, quicker, but just as precise as all the other strikes. Every single one though made contact with a different part of your ass and upper thighs, covering the skin in red stripes, that you were certain would bruise up nicely. Sam granted you enough time at the end of the trio of strikes to catch your breath before she fired again, another two fiery strikes cracking down against your skin, baking your behind and forcing more tears to fall down your cheeks.

Sam’s hand came back to resting on your back, gently working her fingers into your skin, waiting for you to relax and calm down before she finished off.

She would be lying if she said she wasn’t proud of her work, your ass a deep red, the same colour as the red cards that were used on the pitch. The belt had sealed the deal, leaving deep, angry, red lines across your beautiful ass. Sam wanted nothing more than to squeeze your ass, to see you double down from the pain, but she wasn’t that mean, actually, maybe she was when she was downright filthy with you, but she wasn’t right now, not really.

If anything she was a little bit dumbfounded and lovestruck, it always made her a little bit giddy when you outright decided to obey her in such ways, it made her realise just how much you craved this kind of affection, just how much you craved for her to put you in your place every once in a while, to remind you how Sam was in charge.

Once you relaxed under her touch she finished you off, pulling the belt up and very quickly letting the last three strikes come down against your skin. The sound of the leather coming down on your skin was music to her ears. She waited for you to compose yourself, dropping the belt back with the other stack of toys that were on the counter behind her before coming up beside you and raking her hands and nails over your back, letting you cry out whatever was left in your body.

It didn’t take too long, once the fiery pain had subsided it was just the lingering ache across your ass that you were sure would stick around and leave you unable to sit on any chairs for at least the next week or so.

“Turn over for me baby.”

You took a deep breath, and with the guidance of Sam’s hand, you turned over slowly, doing your best to not brush your ass up against anything. You turned your body, flipping over so your back was pressed against the cold stone. You left your ass hanging over the bench, hoping, and silently praying that Sam wouldn’t make you move.

She hovered over you, a little smile perking up the corners of her lips at the vision of your face. Your eyes were covered in the slightly damp red silk, cheeks covered in tear tracks that looked similar to snail tracks that you would find on a sidewalk. You were pouting at her, your lips parted slightly and lips swollen from the incessant biting and sucking you’d done to them to conceal your cries of pain. Sam was so desperate to see your eyes, to get a glimpse at your blown and big pupils, filled with desire and desperation.

“You did so good angel, my perfect girl hm? What colour are you? Feeling like a reward?”

You nodded at Sam almost immediately, your head nodding up and down.

“Yes please, I’m green, can take anything you give me, just wanna be your good girl.”

Sam smiled at your answer, her hands rubbing gently against your hip bones, her touch gentle, a stark contrast to the way she’d previously been treating another part of your body.

She loitered over your stomach for a little bit, her hands tracing the delicate olive skin, enjoying the feeling of the goosebumps that began to form the more her hands graced the surface of your hips.

She stayed that way for a little bit, enjoying how your back arched up to meet her touch. You were so much more receptive when she removed a sense from you, she noticed it every time the two of you messed with sensory deprivation. Whether it was your vision, hearing, taste, or restraining your limbs. It never ceased to amaze her how your body was so reactive so her touch, to anything you were given.

She waited until you were shivering under her, before she removed her hands, walking back over to the counter and picking up her next toy of choice.

When she turned back to look at you she took a few seconds, admiring the sight in front of her, your thighs squeezed together, your body unmoving, she assumed you were trying to contain the desire inside you, trying to suppress the heat pool in the bottom of your stomach. She was proud of you for trying, proud of you for trying your very hardest to behave. She was prepared to reward you for that, in a little bit, first she needed to make you work for it.

She slid her way across the floor, slowly closing in on you.

“Open your legs for me baby.”

You obeyed as soon as the words hit your ears, opening your legs up to reveal your glistening pussy lips.

“Slide back for me babe, legs on the counter, I want you nice and open for me.”

You bit your lip, not at all pleased with the idea of your ass making contact with the bench, but also aware that if Sam was asking you had to obey.

So slowly, you pushed your feet up off the floor, sliding your ass against the cold counter, bringing your legs to rest up on the counter beside you, leaving you open and ready for Sam.

You groaned at the feeling of your burning ass coming into contact with a cold stone counter. It was an excruciating sensation, almost worse than the feeling of the belt coming down against you. Sam gave you time to adjust, her hand coming down to rest on the inside of your thigh, just above your knee, it seemed to be enough for you, your body jolting at the contact. It was nice, but it wasn’t where you needed her, it wasn’t the part of you that was yearning for her.

“S-Sam please.”

Her fingers twirled around the skin and muscles, intricately tracing the different bumps and indents in your skin.

“Please what?”

Sam didn’t make you beg very often, for selfish reasons. When you were fucked out, you wrren’t highly coherent, and it took a lot to get words out of you. So it wasn’t that you were defiant of her questions, you just struggled to put together sentences, and she wasn’t going to torture you by trying to put words in your mouth. Today though she was feeling a little bit more patient than normal.

“F-fuck, please, my pussy.”

Your words slipped easier off your tongue then Sam would have expected, as soon as they did though her face lit up, her hand slowly trailing it’s way further upwards, working its way around the crease between your thigh and labia, tracing the joint before moving inwards and trailing her nail across your lips, teasing the bare skin and then ever so slowly dragging into your wetness. You moaned as soon as her finger slipped in between your lips, it wasn’t exactly what you desired but it was something.

Sam, ever so carefully, with laser focused attention dragged her lone finger around your lips, making absolutely zero contact with the two places that were craving her.

Sam continued the same pattern, her finger gently moving in and out of the wetness that was pooled inside your lips, leaving your pussy clenched and your clit puffy with need.

You tried your very hardest to stay still, arching your back up from the bench, just the way Sam liked, hoping that it would implore her to explore further.

It did it’s job, Sam’s finger leading itself down to your waiting hole, and ever so slowly sliding knuckle by knuckle in.

You moaned almost immediately, the feeling of your pussy sucking her in being completely indescribable. Sam started slow, her fingers sliding in and out of your hole and a tantalisingly slow pace, you didn’t really mind.

Unbeknownst to you, Sam wasn’t aiming for anything besides working you open, she didn’t care how much pleasure, or the lack of pleasure you got from her current actions, because for her it was more a chore of sorts, working you open so you could take the toy resting beside you on the counter.

She did so slowly, working you open with her single finger before inserting a second, going through the same process before inserting a third. She ignored your mewls and moans, being strictly clinical about her procedure, focusing on opening you up properly for her.

When you were easily accepting three of her fingers without any resistance she eased her fingers out, ignoring the sounds of displeasure that left your lips as she did. Sam was highly doubtful that you were finding much pleasure from her actions, you needed more stimulation then she was providing.

She licked the taste of you off her fingers before reaching up to the counter. This time, she knelt down on the floor in front of you, clenching the soft silicone in her hands and slowly bringing it up to your open and waiting pussy. She trailed it through your wetness first, getting it nice and lubed up.

Your body trembled with the feeling, completely interested in whatever Sam was going to give you.

“You sent me four pictures, so I’m going to edge you four times, on top of the spanking you just got. Every single time you get close to you are going to tell me, if you cum then we’ll start over again. After the fourth one you have permission to cum, but once you start I won’t stop until you tap out or pass out. I expect you to use your safeword when it becomes too much, if you don’t then we will keep going. Am I understood?”

You gulped at Sam’s captain’s voice, her tone direct and leaving absolutely zero room for you to avoid what she was asking.

“Yes, I understand.”

Sam smiled to herself, happy with your immediate compliance.

“Colour babygirl?”

It was a preemptive question, because you knew once Sam started she wouldn’t ask again, it would be up to you to decide when you were done.

“Green Sam.”

As soon as the words processed in Sam’s brain she was pushing the dildo into your hole, turning on the vibrations and slowly beginning to ease the dildo in and out, letting you adjust as she began to thrust it in and out with a little bit more vigour.

It was ecstasy for you almost immediately, your hips arching up to meet her at every thrust. Normally she’d restrain you, but this time she didn’t mind, especially considering that it was getting you closer to the edge.

You were a moaning, mess, your eyes rolling into the back of your head behind the blindfold.

“F-fuck Sam, close.”

It was embarrassingly quick for you, but you decided that it was better to get this over with, so you succumbed to your internal desires and allowed yourself to ride freely on the cloud of desire, which was withdrawn from you as soon as the words lefts your dry and raspy throat.

Your body began to tremble, your pussy clenching on empty air, desperate for any kind of attention that it could get. You tried to clench your thighs together, desperate for any kind of friction beside the cold AC that was falling down across you, making your pussy quiver and your nipples pebble, but Sam’s hands were there to stop you, holding your thighs open and waiting for the pleasure shocks to drain out of your body before she got back to her current job.

Just as you’d come down, she pushed the vibrating dildo back in, this time wasting no time and pounding it roughly in, focusing all of her energy on finding the spot inside you and rubbing the vibrating tip up against it.

She knew when she did, your desperate moans becoming significantly louder and thready. As soon as she’d located it, she honed in, focusing all of her efforts on that one spot. She didn’t care how sore she was from training, how much her triceps burned from her task, once she was focused on something it became a task that was unavoidable, she had to achieve whatever she was working towards.

“Sam-Sam, fuck, close.”

Once again, her hand revoked itself, leaving your legs shaking with the loss of sensation. You were so desperate, so fucking desperately chasing your orgasm. You groaned out in agony, it was both a blessing and a curse that Sam had decided on a number, because at least you knew when you were done, but it also made it feel so much harder to achieve that goal. Sometimes when Sam was edging you she’d just keep going and going until you tapped out, it was excruciating not knowing when it would finally come to an end, but at least in those situations there was an opportunity to try and beg or plead with Sam, whereas when there was a set target there was absolutely zero opportunity to bargain with her.

She didn’t wait for you to fully come down this time, Sam was growing impatient, and as much as she hated to admit it, she was feeling lazy right now. She was more than happy to punish you, but she also was going to do it in the easiest way possible for herself. She figured you’d learnt your lesson at the other end of her belt anyways, what she was doing right now was just reinforcement, leaving the impression that if you wanted to be a bratty whore than she’d fuck your brains out how bratty whores wanted it.

This time when she slid the dildo in she was met with absolutely zero resistance, she didn’t waste any time at all working it back to the spot she’d previously found, this time though, you were less reactive. It always seemed to be that the longer she edged you, the more stimulation you needed, so she reached her spare hand up from its spot resting on the inside of your thigh up to your clit, finally giving the neglected nub some much needed attention, and sending you into a world of pleasure.

She applied even pressure, spreading the pad of her thumb against your little puffy bud and usen an even circular pressure to make your body betray every single part that was trying to fight the edge that Sam just kept pushing you too.

You groaned, a flurry of expletives leaving your mouth.

“I know baby, I know.”

You were the picture of divinity in Sam’s eyes. Your nipples pointing upwards, hard as rocks, your back arched up and the sight of your bright red arse and thighs hanging slightly over the kitchen bench. To Sam, you were angelic, like a statue in a museum, or a Van Gogh painting.

“Sam, close, really fucking close.”

This time Sam loitered for a second, removing the vibrator from your pussy but leaving her thumb resting for a little bit, testing the waters. When you began to curse even more decoratively she removed her hand, resting both of her palms on the inside of your thighs and watching as you shook and quivered underneath her. She had a front seat to the image of your pussy, watching attentively as your sex unclenched and shivered right in front of her eyes.

It was a magical sight, a true gift to watch alongside.

“Last one pet, last one, I know you can do it for me, you’ve been so good.”

Sam’s words of encouragement were enough to fill your lungs with air, you could do it, you could do one more, even if it felt like Sam was literally taking a chunk of your chest out every single time she put you on the edge and then pulled it all away, like stealing candy from a baby. You were so hungry for your orgasm, absolutely starving for your release.

Sam didn’t taunt you with teasing, she knew you were desperate and she wasn’t going to toy with you. She wasted absolutely no time returning her thumb to your clit, rubbing it mercilessly and almost violently thrusting the vibrator in and out of you, hitting your g-spot every single time. It took you maybe a minute before you were balancing right on the edge, you wanted to succumb to it so bad, but there wasn’t a doubt in your mind that if you did it would only be a spiral of more edging and you didn’t need that, not after the hell you’d just been through.

“Sam-Sam stop, stop.”

Sam obeyed your request, removing her hands and placing them gently on your thighs, watching you come down from your ruined high.

“You’ve got it pet, you did so well for me didn’t you, this time you can cum as many times as you want, I’ve got you, just let me know when you're done and we’ll call it, okay?”

You nodded at Sam, you felt completely stripped, your blindfold damp with tears, your legs and ass aching from their exertion and your pussy jusr desperate for attention.

Sam’s breath on your thigh was nice, a relief of sorts.

Just as you were beginning to feel everything she pressed the toy back into you and her fingers were at your clit desperately rubbing.

It took absolutely nothing to get you to the edge, Sam was showing absolutely zero mercy, the dildo thrusting in and out of you with no rhythm, just ruthlessness, her fingers on your clit were the exact same, just rubbing furiously in circular motions.

“Sam-Sam fuck I’m cumming, fuck-fuck-fuck.”

Sam just smirked at the vision, your pussy clenching on the toy and your clit prodding out of it’s hood.

“I’ve got you babygirl, cum for me, I’ve got you.”

The words were enough encouragement for you, sending you directly over the cliff, your vision going black and stars clouding the darkness, your body spasming in ways that it never should as the pleasure coursed through your brain.

Instead of coming back to a blissful cloud of pleasure though you were awakened with pain. It was like having a bucket of cold water tipped on your head, the feeling of Sam pushing you towards another orgasm excruciatingly too much. Every single sensation was heightened, the agony in your ass, the sensitivity in your pussy.

Before you could even speak up you were barreling over the edge into an almost painful orgasm, your cunt and body spasming once again as Sam continued at her punishing pace.

You knew you were at your point, coming down from your orgasm and feeling nothing beside strain, and with the knowledge that Sam had no plans to slow down you took it as your time to tap out.

“S-sam red, red, fuck.”

As soon as the words left your mouth everything was gone, the rough touch and toy that had previously been overwhelming your pussy letting up.

You felt Sam slip out from under you, deserting whatever was in her hands and reaching up to your face, tugging the blind down to hang around your neck and reaching down behind you to untie it.

She was rewarded with the beautiful sight of your eyes, glazed over with a happy glint in them.

“Hiya my love, how ya feeling? I’m thinking a bath and then some snuggles in bed, how does that sound?”

You didn’t have the capacity to answer Sam in words, you just nodded your head, and she took it as enough of a cue to lift you up in her arms bridal style, being especially cautious to not brush up against your ass in any way.

She carried your limp form into the bathroom, resting you on the edge of the tub as she reached over to the faucet to start the water running. She reached under the sink, pulling out your favourite oils, salts and soaps, dumping a mixture into the rising warm water.

She helped you ease into the tub, cooing words of encouragement as you groaned at the feeling of your burning ass connecting with the warm water.

Once you were settled in the tub she undressed herself before sitting herself down behind you, helping you into her arms.

Sam spent her time washing your body, worshipping every single inch of skin carefully.

When the both of you started to prune she helped you out of the bath, holding your body up as she towel dried you, and ever so gently applying some healing cream to your ass to make it a little bit more comfortable.

After that she carried you into your shared bedroom, gently helping you under the covers before walking around to her own side and sliding into the bed, bringing you into her arms almost immediately.

“Sam.”

Sam looked down at you, her eyes caring and gentle, there was so much love to give in those eyes.

“Yes, love?”

It was so perplexing to you how those eyes could shift so easily, how she could go from being your dom to your lover in such a short amount of time, it was the reason you trusted her so easily with you, because as soon as the switch flicked she was all love, everything you could ever need or want.

“Thank you.”

You words were murmured into Sam’s shoulder, your body completely spent and relaxing further into her own every single second.

“Thanks for what baby?”

Sam had an inkling of an idea what you were thanking her for, but she was interested in hearing the words actually fall from your lips.

“For giving me what I needed, for loving me.”

Sam rolled her eyes, it was so you.

“Baby all you have to do is ask next time, no more of the bratting because you need my attention, hmm?”

You nodded sleepily into Sam’s body, her warm skin feeling like heaven to you.

“You gotta admit, is’ fun though.”

Sam just snorted, bringing your body closer to hers as you every so slowly drifted off to sleep in her arms, Sam following fairly quickly behind.

[holdinbacksecrets]

how do you think svt would subtly let you know they have feelings for you? 🥺🫣 or how they’d confess?

first of all, my sincere apologies for taking a year to answer this… but a couple nights ago i woke up at 2am, scrolled through my requests, and yours ended up inspiring these voicemails. thank you for requesting! i hope you enjoy 🖤

thank you @un-love for helping me assign these🫶🫶🫶🫶

voicemails seventeen leave you, hinting feelings

seungcheol: “hey…a lot was said last night…it’s important that you know how proud of you i am for opening up to me. it’s just…you have to know that… my home is yours for however long you need. there are clean sheets on the guest bed, but i know you prefer my mattress…we can switch- i just want you to be comfortable, not to worry about anything, ok? i hope i see you when i get home tonight. or if you want me to meet you at his—yours, i’d be happy to.”

jeonghan: “hey, are you ok? you looked upset last night, and i tried to show i noticed without… showing i noticed. you left earlier than i expected with lia, so i didn’t get a chance to ask. then hoshi was fucking wasted, so i was trying to get him home in one piece. let me know, please.”

joshua: “morning, let me know what time you’d like to leave tonight. the party starts at 8, but i don’t think it’s really going to start until 8:30. we could get dinner before if you want? and it’s ok if you forget a cardigan. now i keep one in my car in case we end up on a balcony.”

jun: “you’re probably freaking out, but your laptop is here. it’s fully charged. i can bring it to you. i know you have classes friday afternoon… if you use your ipad instead, come over after. i’ll make you dinner.”

soonyoung: “at this point, i need to keep your grocery store list on my notes app or something. it doesn’t matter where i am or what grocery store i find myself inside, i’m immediately wondering what you need. i end up getting things i know you’ll like… tampons too and those pads with the wings. i started keeping them in different bags i use because i never know which one i’ll have when i see you. i know it’s silly because you always have something with you just in case, but… i don’t know. i don’t want to be completely helpless. now i feel bad for my sister. is that weird? i never did this for her. i should have. i hope her boyfriend does.”

wonwoo: “i think you’re asleep, but i wanted to remind you to take another dosage of pain medicine when you wake up. it’s been twelve hours, and i know how forgetful you can get in that post-sleep haze.”

jihoon: “it’s so sunny here. i’m sending some to you for your birthday. missing your birthday… how the hell did that end up happening? i’m definitely not incredibly upset about it either… happy birthday. tell me all about your day when you get this. if i don’t answer, leave a detail in your voicemail” *whisper sings happy birthday*.

seokmin: “hey you. so i’m at the cafe, and i ordered a chai latte for you before realizing i didn’t know how much longer you’ll be. if it’s cold by the time you get here, i’ll order you another or see if they have a microwave. i think some customers are staring me down because i’m a single man occupying a table. please hurry. kindly. i say that so kindly.”

mingyu: “is it absolutely ridiculous to believe you… some part of you manifests in willow trees? i think of you, and i see one. it’s happened too many times to be a coincidence, even in other countries. i’ve taken pictures, so you have to believe me.”

minghao: “—you have to come with me next time.”

seungkwan: “do you want to be my date to my sister’s wedding? it’s not a big deal. i mean, it is, but i know how anxious you can get about things like this, so i want you to know it’s not a big deal… did you believe that for a second?”

hansol: “there’s going to be an indoor pop-up market two blocks from your apartment on saturday. i took a picture of the flyer through the car window, but it came out all blurry, and i’m running late for a schedule. this is a reminder for myself to make sure the details reach you. i also want to go with you if you decide to go… if you can go.”

chan: “can we change our friday night plans to saturday? i’m so sorry. my mom has an appointment, and i offered to drive her before my brain caught up and realized the day and time she’s scheduled. i don’t think i’ll make it back early enough, and i don’t want to leave her either, you know? she’s having a little procedure done. i want to be around just in case… because i’m worried about it. i didn’t think i’d be this worried. call me when you get this.”

bonus: “i’m around the corner from your place, and i have the tokyo hoodie with me. it’s your week, it’s freshly washed, so let me know if you’re home. i’ll drop it off.”

[kwanisms]

Truth Comes Out - h.jisung

➥ dom!Han × sub!Reader summary: Since discovering the stranger she hooked up with is her best friend's roommate, Y/N has been actively avoiding Han. wc: 13.1k (I'm so, so sorry lol) warnings: afab reader, adult dialogue, alcohol consumption, sexual content (minors dni!): heavy making out, fingering, handjob, marking, a LOT of dirty talk, pet names (baby, baby girl, babe, sugar, etc), orgasm denial (m receiving), sexting/phone sex, mutual masturbation, mutual pining (they are really desperate and whiny for each other), Han is very vocal, it’s clear Han and Y/N both like each other a lot but Y/N struggles a lot with her feelings. I think that’s all but let me know if I missed anything! a/n: back by popular demand, here is the second part to Kinkuary 17! Tbh, i had this planned when I first started writing part one. I knew I wanted to leave it on a cliffhanger and make it into three parts. I had a lot of fun outlining and writing the party scene. Let me know what you think! I love feedback and hearing your thoughts! As always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only. banner made by me. I do not allow reposts or translations of my works. All my works are ©️ kwanisms.

Permanent taglist: @yoonguurt @wonderfulshinee @candidupped @dejavernon @violagoth @kosmoreads @tigermoonbiss @katsukis1wife Stray Kids taglist: @cixrosie @hoeforcheol @beomgyusbabygirl @lovestayskzxx @flowerboykun @smhlino Tagging @songgmingii @j1s-babygirl @chai-papa @klysaibabes @lovethatchanussy @nokacchan @dramaticnobody @youremytearr @replay-by-shinee @myprwttyhan @licklix because they asked for part two on my first part. Strikethrough means I cannot tag you. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. Send an ask to be tagged in part 3. Part 1 // Part 3

════════════════════════════════

“Why can’t you come over tonight again?” Felix asked as you flipped the potato pancakes over. “Because,” you said as you glanced down at your phone lying on the counter where you could see your best friend lying on his bed, holding his phone over his head as he watched you cook.

“I have some paperwork due,” you answered simply.

“And you can’t do it another day because…?” Your best friend asked, eyebrow raising. “Because my boss changed the due date again.”

Felix groaned, rolling his eyes. “Your boss sucks.” You snorted in laughter. "Tell me about it."

“I miss you though,” he continued, rolling onto his side. “Aww, is this you confessing your undying love to me?” You cooed, laughing when he scowled in disgust. “Ew, fuck you,” he laughed. “Uh, no thanks,” you retorted, making him roll his eyes again.

“Now that we’re settled into the apartment, I was hoping you’d come over and meet Jisung,” Felix murmured, making your shoulders stiffen. Thankfully, Felix didn’t notice or he didn’t comment on it.

“And I will,” you answered. “I just need to power through this bullshit my boss dumped on me.” Felix nodded understandingly. “You should quit that job and come work with me,” he said suddenly, making you laugh loudly.

“Hard pass.” Felix scowled at your response.

“I’ll have you know my company is a lot better than yours,” he said sternly. You rolled your eyes. “If we worked together, nothing would ever, ever get done,” you retorted, watching as your best friend considered your response.

“Yeah,” he answered finally, nodding. “You’re right.”

The timer above your oven went off and you rushed to turn it off. “That’s time,” Felix said jokingly as you returned to him. “Dinner’s ready, that means I gotta go.” Felix pouted but sighed. “Okay, just promise that you’ll clear a day for our housewarming party,” he said as you picked up your phone. “Yeah, yeah,” you replied, waving your hand. “We’ll see.”

It hurt you to lie to your best friend but it wasn’t like you could just come out and tell him why you’ve been avoiding visiting his apartment.

Ever since you’d learned that the man you’d invited into your home, the one you met on a BDSM discord server, was his roommate, you’d been vehemently avoiding going over to Felix’s new apartment.

It was bad enough that Han was his roommate and you’d slept with him not knowing he was friends with Felix, but your best friend was trying desperately to get you and Han to meet for whatever reason.

You’d been pretty good at making up excuses not to go over but you were running out of them and you knew sooner or later you’d have to go over but you opted for later rather than sooner.

Of course, he hadn't given up inviting you over to his apartment and was adamant on introducing you to his roommate. You'd done your best to turn him down, coming up with excuse after excuse, inviting him over to your place instead.

"Come on Y/N!" Felix whined over the phone. You could almost picture him, throwing his arms around lazily and dramatically. You let out a deep sigh. "I don't know Lix," you answered, chewing on your bottom lip. "I don't really want to stay in."

"Perfect!" Felix said excitedly and you imagined him with puppy ears, eyes shining with excitement. "Cause we're going out! That new club opened up down the road from my building and the hype has died down so we shouldn't have a problem getting in!"

Suddenly you wished you said you wanted to stay home.

"Oh? Who else is going?" you asked, feigning interest. "Just us," Felix answered. "I promise!"

Hearing this made your mind up for you. "Okay, that sounds fun," you replied. "Do you want to meet there?"

"Nah. Just come here. Then we can go together. I'm the only one here. Han went out with some of his friends to another club. He has a very specific vibe," Felix explained.

Your eyebrow arched suspiciously. "Aren't your friends his?" you asked, suddenly wondering if he was lying to you.

"Not all of them," Felix explained. "He went with some of his friends from work." You felt your shoulders relax. 'Then it should be safe.'

"Okay," you finally said. "I'm in."

“Yes!” Felix said excitedly. “I promise, it’ll just be the two of us.”

Felix went on to thank you profusely, telling you to be at his place around seven-ish and you'd do a small pregame before heading down the street. You hung up and started getting ready immediately, hopping in the shower first.

After getting dressed and applying some makeup, you checked yourself over in your mirror that hung by your door. It was a simple look. A black skirt that flared out and reached halfway down your thighs paired with a white long sleeved crop top.

You'd styled your hair and paired your outfit with a black clutch wristlet and black pumps. Felix hated when you wore heels around him but this wasn't about him you decided. It was about you getting out of the house and spending time with your best friend.

The trip to Felix's building was as it usually was, a bus ride and short walk and you found yourself in the lobby, greeted by a security guard who checked your name off a list. He directed you to the guest elevator and said he would send you up.

This building was much newer than yours and much more state of the art. You couldn't even imagine how much it cost to live here. Felix had a pretty great job so you suspected Han must have a pretty damn good one as well.

Inside the elevator was unlike anything you'd seen. There were no buttons save for an emergency stop and call button. No buttons labeled for the floors. When the doors shut, the elevator started to move and you suddenly understood what the guard meant by he'd "send you up."

The ride to the 10th floor was quick and uneventful as you arrived. You checked your reflection once more before stepping off the elevator and were greeted by loud bass. One of Felix's neighbors must be having a party.

As you walked down towards the end of the hall, the bass grew louder and louder. You found the correct door and knocked softly. Felix didn't answer so you tried again, albeit a little louder this time. 'Might not be able to hear me over the neighbor's party.'

The door was thrown open and you were greeted by the loud bass and a face you hadn't seen in a long time.

"Y/N!" Hyunjin said, smiling and wrapping you in a tight one armed hug, pulling you inside the very loud, very crowded, apartment. It took your brain a moment to register what was happening. Felix said you were going to a club.

He said it would just be you and yet here was almost every person in his life and some you didn't even recognize. Hyunjin led you further into the apartment and to the kitchen island where there was a spread unlike anything you'd ever seen at any of the parties you'd been to before.

You were going to kill Felix.

Bottles on bottles of liquor, some half empty but full ones set up behind, ready to take their place. Red cups and plastic shot glasses were stacked and ready to be used. On the dining room table was an impressive amount of food.

"What are you drinking?" Hyunjin asked over the bass as he leaned in to hear you. "Uh, I'm okay for now," you answered, shaking your head. Hyunjin shook his head. "Nonsense, I'll make you something."

Despite your protests, Hyunjin grabbed a clean cup and started mixing something while you looked around the crowded apartment.

You recognized a group of Felix's closest friends and sitting among them was your best friend, laughing at something one of his friends said. You narrowed your eyes as Hyunjin finished making your drink and handed it to you. "That's the best one I know how to make. Sorry if it's a little strong," Hyunjin said, giving you a wink.

You raised the glass to your face, sniffing to discern the ingredients but all you could smell was fruit and alcohol. You took a sip and winced slightly. "You're gonna kill me," you coughed, making Hyunjin laugh, his eyes closing. "Not kill. Just get you drunk!"

You felt his hand on your back, leading you through the party goers and over to where Felix was sitting on a black sofa next to Ryujin with Changbin on the other side, an arm draped across the back of the sofa behind Lia. As you approached, Hyunjin yelled over the music. "Look who I found standing outside!"

Everyone turned to look at the two of you, several faces lighting up as Felix's friends greeted you. Felix looked up and his smile fell at the look you threw him as you hugged Chris. "Wow, you look amazing!" Chris said, looking you over.

"Doesn't she look incredible?" He asked, turning to Seungmin who was sitting next to Ryujin. "She always looks amazing," he said as he stood up, moving past Chris to greet you with a hug. "Good to see you, Y/N," he said in your ear.

When he sat back down, your attention zeroed in on Felix as he got up quickly. "Hey," he said, pulling you into a hug. "You lied to me," you hissed, digging your knuckles into his side discreetly.

Felix winced, playing it off to anyone who noticed. "I know, I'm sorry," he replied as the group went back to their conversation, Hyunjin blending in smoothly as he took Felix's empty spot on the sofa.

"But you kept coming up with excuses to not come over!" Felix explained as you took a sip of your drink. "I've been putting off this house warming party for a week, trying to pick a day when you'd be free. I can't break in my new home without my best friend."

You glanced around nervously. "It's not like I'd be missed," you murmured. "How many people did you invite?" You looked up as Felix did the mental calculation. "I can't remember but a lot of these people were invited by Jisung," Felix explained, his face lighting up.

"Speaking of!" he said suddenly, grabbing your free hand and pulling you through the crowd. "Wait, Felix," you hissed as he dragged you away from the group and towards a room just off the main living area.

In what you assumed was the den, a table was set up for pong and the people surrounding were eagerly cheering on the players.

Your eyes darted around, landing on the one person you'd been avoiding this whole time.

He was standing at the end with the person you could only assume was his teammate. He looked just as good as the last time you saw him. He'd dressed for the occasion, donning a plain black loose fitted tee, tucked into black leather pants. He'd put on a simple silver chain necklace.

Felix dragged you over as Han picked up his drink watching his teammate and taking a sip.

Han looked up from his cup as Minho picked up one of the small white plastic balls and aimed. "You got this, Min," Han shouted over the music, clapping his friend on the shoulder. "Yah, don't do that!" Minho shouted as he narrowed his eyes.

Han caught sight of Felix moving through the crowd towards him and smiled. He was accompanied by a girl but Han couldn't see her face. Perhaps this was the infamous best friend? Had she finally agreed to show up? Han turned back as Minho took the shot.

His aim was true as managed to bounce the ball in one of the three cups remaining on the opposing side. The entire crowd erupted into applause and cheers as Han laughed at the look on his opponents' faces. Yunho was shocked as Mingi begrudgingly picked up the cup and chugged the contents.

"This ain't over yet!" Yunho shouted, pointing at Han who laughed.

"Han!" He turned as he heard his name came from behind him, feeling a hand on his shoulder. He turned to find Felix standing behind him with the same girl attempting to hide out of sight. He smiled at his roommate before Felix spoke.

"I wanted to introduce you to my best friend!"

Han's smile widened. 'She finally made it!'

"Oh?" Han asked, trying and failing to conceal his excitement. "She's finally here?" Felix nodded, turning towards the girl behind him.

"What are you-? Stop hiding," Felix laughed as he put his arm around the girl and pulled her forward. "Y/N, this is my roommate, Han Jisung."

"Han, this is Y/N."

Han had heard so much about his roommate's best friend from the man himself and was beyond excited to finally meet her so he was expecting anyone but… you.

His eyes widened, lips parting as he felt his stomach nearly fall out of his ass. He never expected to see you, the girl he'd hooked up with and then been ghosted by, again. He was so engrossed in his own thoughts that when you looked up at him with a pained expression, it made his heart sting.

It was almost as if you were sorry. Or maybe it was shame? Or perhaps even embarrassment? Han couldn't be entirely sure but one thing was certain.

He was fucked.

When your eyes met Han's you could see his thoughts moving at the speed of light. He was running through every possible scenario. Felix looked expectantly at his roommate, waiting for a response.

"Dude, you okay?" Felix asked, drawing both yours and Han's attention. Han finally snapped out of it and tore his gaze from your face. "Yeah, sorry," he said sheepishly. "Oh, isn't she a cute one," Han's pong partner said suddenly, smirking at you.

"I'd be speechless too," he added, nudging Han. "She's gorgeous." You felt your cheeks burn at the stranger's compliment. He leaned forward, holding his hand out which you took hesitantly. "I'm Minho," he announced over the music. "Y/N," you answered, shaking his hand firmly. "Y/N? God, even your name is cute."

Your cheeks burned even more at the attention Minho was giving you. You glanced at Han who was side-eyeing his friend with… 'wait is that jealousy? Is he jealous?' Felix wrapped an arm protectively around your shoulders. "Back off, Min," he warned jokingly.

"Oh?" Minho asked, grabbing his cup and downing the rest of his drink. "Is she spoken for?" he asked, smirking at Felix who shook his head. "What? No! She's my best friend. We're like siblings," Felix added. Minho's smirk softened into a smile.

"I'm just teasing. We all know you only have eyes for Momo," Minho said, making those around you snicker as Felix tried to defend himself. Minho turned his attention on you once more, leaning in. "Could you be a doll and get me a refill? Pretty please?" he asked, tucking a stray of hair behind your ear.

"Yah, Minho!" Han suddenly shouted. "She's not a server," he continued as several pairs of eyes fell on him. "Yeah, get your own drink," Felix added. Minho sighed, turning to take his cup from you. "Pause the game," he called but you snatched the cup from him.

Anything to escape Han's gaze.

"I'll get it," you said quickly, ignoring the way both Felix and Han eyed you. Minho merely smiled, reaching up to stroke your cheek. "Good girl," he said before turning back to the game.

You turned away and darted through the crowd, missing the way Felix looked impressed by both Minho's and your boldness but Han looked downright furious.

You made your way through the crowd to the kitchen and started to fix a drink for Minho, shaking off your apprehension and nerves. You felt a body lightly bump into you and looked up to see Jeongin smiling sheepishly at you.

"Innie! How are you?" you asked, smiling at him.

"I'm good," he answered as he watched you mix the drink. "Who is that for?" he asked, nodding at the cup. "Minho? I think he’s Han- Jisung's friend," you answered as you picked up the now full cup.

Jeongin's eyebrow raised as he watched you. "Oh? Didn't know you were making drinks for Minho," he teased, prompting you to pinch his arm.

"It's stuffy in there and he asked me to," you explained as you wove through the crowd, Jeongin on your heels.

Inside the den, the previous game had finished with Han and Minho winning and now facing new opponents: Felix and Changbin.

You returned to Minho who turned and smiled as you handed him his cup. "It might be a little strong," you said as he took a sip. "Jeongin distracted me," you added, throwing a playfully dirty look at the culprit who merely smiled at you.

Minho shook his head. "No, it's perfect, thank you," he answered, setting it down and sending a wink your way. Han looked from his friend to you, meeting your gaze. His expression was hard to decipher but he soon turned away to start the game.

You turned to Jeongin, talking with him as the new round started. "So, how's college?" you asked. He shrugged before answering. "Expensive, stressful, and probably going to put me in debt for the rest of my life." You laughed loudly at his reply.

"Sounds about right."

Han couldn't stop himself from glancing in your direction every time you laughed at something Jeongin said. It was clear you knew the younger man and that was probably thanks to Felix.

"Who's your friend, Innie?" A voice asked. When Han looked over, he noticed one of Jeongin's tall friends- Beomgyu was it?- had slid up to the two of you and currently had one arm resting on Jeongin's shoulder, smiling at you. "This is Y/N," Jeongin introduced.

"Nice to meet you Y/N. I'm Beomgyu," he said, wincing as one of his friends bounced up next to him and behind you. "I'm Kai!" he said excitedly, making you laugh.

God, your laugh. Han loved it. He hadn't heard it since that day and hearing it now was like music to his ears. He wasn't lying when he had told Felix how much he missed you. Of course, Felix didn't know it was you he missed. To Felix it was Baby.

His eyes trailed over your body, remembering how it felt to have his hands on it. He remembered how you reacted to him, almost as if your body was made to fit with his. He'd thought of nothing but you since then. Whenever he needed to get off, he imagined the way you looked bent over, restrained, and at his mercy.

He'd looked at the pictures he'd taken that day over and over again. True to his promise, none of them had your face in them, something he missed greatly. He missed your eyes and the way they looked at him as he ate you out. The way your lips looked and felt.

And your tongue? God did he miss your tongue.

He'd tried to reach out, messaging you on both instagram and discord but his messages went unanswered. He didn't really question it when you disappeared from the server a few days after hooking up. You'd been interested in anonymous sex and you'd gotten that from him so your membership in the server wasn't needed. He understood that.

But when you didn't answer his direct messages, he started to wonder if maybe he'd done something wrong. Offended or hurt you in some way that you didn't speak up about. Maybe you weren't serious when you said you'd have to invite him back over.

Worse case scenario, it wasn't as good for you as it was for him.

Han was snapped out of his thoughts as the crowd on the other side of the table cheered. He looked down and saw one of the cups in front of him had a little white ball that previously wasn't there.

Looking up, he saw Felix celebrating. Han glanced at Minho who regarded him with a confused expression. Han shook his head and picked up the cup, downing the liquid inside.

As he did, his eyes shifted to the side where you were engrossed in a deep conversation with Beomgyu, Kai, Jeongin and a couple other people he vaguely knew. The coil in the pit of his stomach tightened, a sour feeling bubbling up. He recognized this feeling.

It was jealousy.

"You're so cute!" Beomgyu cooed, cupping your cheeks gently, laughing as you pushed him off playfully. "Don't tease her!" Jeongin whined, trying to shield you from his friend.

"Ooh, this is a good song!" one of Beomgyu's friends, whose name you learned was Soobin, said perking up. Another of Beomgyu's friends, Yeonjun, who had squeezed into the circle between you and Beomgyu, smiled as he looked at you.

"Do you wanna dance?" he asked, catching you off guard.

"Aww I was gonna ask her that!" Kai pouted, making Yeonjun chuckle. "I'll only keep her for a bit, Kai," he offered before turning back to you. "So how about it?" he asked, tilting his head.

Jeongin took your glass. "I'll hold this," he said with a smirk as you glanced around. "O-okay," you answered. Another one of Beomgyu's friends, Taehyun, held his hand up. "If you don't want to, it's okay. Yeonjun can be kind of…" he trailed off.

"Kind of what?" Yeonjun asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

You shook your head. "It's okay, Tae," you answered. "I'll dance with you," you added, looking at Yeonjun who lit up. He took your hand and led you out of the room. You were so focused on following him that you didn't notice the look on Han's face.

One dance turned into two and then three before you finally had to stop and get something to drink. You promised Kai you would dance with him after getting a new drink since Jeongin finished yours.

You were looking through the bottles, trying to find the same stuff Hyunjin had thrown together, half tempted to ask him to make it again when you felt a hand on your lower back.

You looked up from the counter to find Han standing next to you. You suddenly felt nervous in his presence as sparks erupted under your skin where the warmth of his hand was bleeding through your top.

"Hey," he said as he smiled at you. You glanced around nervously before looking back down at the counter. "Hey."

Han watched as you mixed something together, avoiding his gaze. He'd come for a fresh bottle of beer but found himself leaning against the counter while watching you work.

"Look," he finally said, breaking the awkward tension between you. "I'm sorry," you blurted out, making him freeze. You looked up at him finally, finding him already looking at you.

"For not responding to your messages," you clarified. "I've just been… off," you continued. Han shook his head, giving you a smile.

"You don't have to explain," he said, moving to stand closer. "If you wanted it to be a one time thing, that's fine. That was the deal, right?" He asked, one hand moving to rest on the small of your back. 'Is… is that what he thinks?'

"Han, I-" he cut you off before you could finish. "It's okay. We can just let it go. If you'd rather pretend it didn't happen-"

It was your turn to cut him off. "I don't want that." Han's eyes widened. "Y-you don't?" he asked softly, voice barely audible over the music. "I don't want to pretend it didn't happen," you repeated.

Your eyes met, staring at each other in the middle of a party like no one else was even there. It was like you had tunnel vision and all you could see was him. Like he was the only thing that mattered.

Han's eyes dipped down to your lips and back up to meet your gaze. Your eyes did the same. It was clear what you both wanted and you would have given in if it weren't for the arm that suddenly went around your shoulders.

"There you two are!" Felix said loudly as he draped an arm over both yours and Han's shoulders. "I was wondering where my favorite girl and the best roommate I've ever had went," he added, smiling at you. It was clear he'd had a little too much to drink and was more than tipsy.

You smiled sheepishly. "Yeah," you said, holding up your cup. "I just needed a drink." Han forced a smile, clearly annoyed that Felix had interrupted the moment between the two of you. "Well, now that you've got it, come join us," Felix said, giving you a slight shake.

Han wanted so desperately to ask Felix to give the two of you a second but he didn't want to draw attention or arouse suspicion so he begrudgingly followed along as Felix led you away from the drink station and into a circle around the sofa.

He watched as Felix pulled you down to sit between him and Jeongin, leaving Han to sit across from you in an empty space on the ottoman next to Chris who had Sana perched on his lap. "What's this about?" Changbin asked from his spot between Lia and Seungmin. "You summoned us here."

Felix shook his head. "I’m just the messenger," he answered. "You can ask them why," he added, nodding at Chris and Sana. "Well, mainly me," Sana said, holding up her hand. "I thought we could throw it back and play a classic party game," she explained.

"I swear to god," Yeonjun groaned as he leaned on the couch behind you. "If this is Truth or Dare, I'm leaving right now." Momo, who was sitting next to Chris and Sana chimed in. "It is Truth or Dare," she started.

"But with a twist."

Han tried to listen to Momo as she spoke but his eyes were focused on you and the way Yeonjun loomed over your figure. You didn't seem to mind, even when he briefly massaged your shoulders while Momo explained the rules.

"It's simple. On your turn, you chose either truth or dare," Momo explained, Sana chiming in halfway through. "And if you don't want to do the one you pick, you have to drink," she added. "So everyone playing needs drinks." There was a mild scramble as those without drinks got up to get refills. "What if you aren't playing?" Jeongin asked, raising his hand.

"Then get out of the circle," Sana said with a shrug. Jeongin apologized and got up, leaving the space beside you empty. Han was tempted to take it but he wasn't fast enough and someone else dropped onto the sofa beside you.

"I don't think we've met," the man who had just dropped into the seat next to you said, drawing your attention. Han didn't know him personally, only that he was friends with both Yeonjun and Changbin. "I'm Wooyoung." The man, Wooyoung, held his hand out.

A polite smile crossed your face as you took his hand. "Y/N," you replied shortly. Yeonjun behind you flicked Wooyoung's forehead. "Leave her alone, Woo. She's not going home with you," he saw in an annoyed tone. Wooyoung held his hand over his forehead and whined. "Well, she might have if you hadn't interjected!"

You smiled politely again at Wooyoung. "No," you replied, shaking your head. "I wouldn't have." Everyone around you burst into laughter and Wooyoung grumbled, whining under his breath until Yeonjun kicked him out of the spot and took it from him as the rest of the players settled down with their drinks.

Han recognized San as Wooyoung moved to sit beside him, Yeosang watching from outside the circle with Jongho. Yeosang was one of his department leads, Jongho working with them as well.

His attention was drawn back to the circle as the coffee table was cleared and used as the pedestal for the bottle and Momo started the game. She spun the bottle, waiting until it stopped landing on…

“Lee Chan!” She said, pointing to the man sitting to the left of Yunho. “Uh, present,” he said, a slight question in his tone. “Truth or dare?” Momo asked, waiting patiently for him to respond.

“Uh, sorry, I’m pretty a boring guy. Truth.”

Han zoned out as Momo asked her question, his eyes landing on you sitting wedged between Felix and Yeonjun, the latter who was leaning in, whispering in your ear. You giggled as he spoke before looking mildly scandalized and slapping his arm while he laughed.

It made the ugly beast in his chest surface, growling angrily.

The game quickly progressed into a game of daring people to kiss each other before the bottle landed on Felix, having been spun by Yeonjun. "Dare," Felix said, sitting forward to look around you at Yeonjun. "Dare you say?"

"Yeah, and make it a good one," Felix answered. "None of this kissing shit. That's so cliché." Several people shouted in protest, quieted only by Yeonjun holding his hand up. "Okay," he said, scooting forward to sit on the edge of his seat.

"Your dare comes with a choice. You have to give a lap dance," Yeonjun began, smirking devilishly as the circle laughed and whooped. Yeonjun held his hand up. "I haven't finished!"

The group fell silent waiting for the rest of the dare.

"You have to give a lap dance to either your roommate," he continued, all eyes turning to Han who chuckled nervously. "Or," Yeonjun said, turning to look at Felix. "Your best friend."

Han felt his throat go dry as all eyes fell on you sitting beside Felix who was contemplating his choices.

"I guess I'll pick Y/N," Felix said, wincing when you slapped his arm. "I wouldn't be able to look Han in the face afterwards if I picked him," he explained as you glared at him angrily.

One of their dining chairs appeared and was placed in the circle as the coffee table was pushed aside. Felix got to his feet and held out his hand for you to take. Your face flushed as you reluctantly took his hand, letting him pull you up and lead you over to the chair.

You took the seat, looking around nervously as Yeonjun held onto your drink, the latter smirking as the show started. Han found himself looking away as the others laughed, some covering their eyes and a few of the girls screaming.

Luckily Felix didn't draw it out too long, laughing as he pulled you up from the chair and pulled you into a hug while you hid your face in your hands.

Felix whispered in your ear as he hugged you, no doubt apologizing for what he just put you through. As the two of you sat back down, the bottle was spun by Ryujin on the other side of Yeonjun.

Han watched as it spun around, slowing before it stopped completely, the opening of the bottle facing away from Han. He looked up to see it had landed on you instead. You were unable to hide your surprise.

“Y/N! Finally,” Ryujin said excitedly as she waited for you to choose. Your response was swift, picking Truth after that last Dare had clearly traumatized you.

Ryujin looked deep in thought as she chose her question carefully.

"Hmmm, okay!” She clapped her hands together before pointing at you with both of her hands. “Have you ever slept with anyone in the circle?"

The question caught the attention of everyone in the group, especially Han. He wondered at that moment if you'd slept with any of Felix's friends before and if you had, did Felix know?

Han half expected you to take a drink from your cup but was surprised when you answered instead with a nod. The uproar was almost instantaneous, several people demanding to know who.

Ryujin nodded, a mischievous look on her face. "Of course, of course,” she said while nodding. “We should have expected you and Felix to have hooked up at some point," she said nonchalantly with a shrug.

At her accusation, you and Felix shook your heads quickly, both protesting in unison. "Absolutely not!" You said, sounding mortified. Felix was just as adamant.

"No really, we've never had sex. The only sleeping we do together is taking naps," he explained. You nodded profusely in agreement. Ryujin turned to look at you. “If it wasn’t Felix, then who was it?” She asked. Han noticed how you froze at the question.

You chuckled nervously and passed your drink to Yeonjun. "Uhh… I need to use the bathroom," you said, getting to your feet, ignoring the question entirely.

Once you disappeared, Han heard Sana speak.

"You're for real? You've really never slept with Y/N?" She asked. Han turned to look at Felix who shook his head again. "Really. She's my best friend. I don't see her that way," he answered. Yeonjun suddenly spoke up, turning to look at Felix.

"I certainly see her that way," he said, ignoring the whistles around him. "Do you care if I-" Han had heard enough.

"Wait, where are you going?" Momo asked as he got to his feet. "Bathroom," he grumbled. "Y/N's in there," Sana reminded him.

"I have an en-suite," he simply said as he set his beer on the end table and walked away from the group. He wound through the crowd, making his way through the apartment. It was true, he did have an en-suite bathroom but that's not where he was going.

The bass was muffled surprisingly well with the bathroom door shut as you washed your hands under the sink. Glancing up at your reflection, you sighed, taking in your tired eyes.

'Maybe I should go home… I think I've been here long enough. Surely Felix doesn't need me here now.'

Your internal monologue was interrupted by a knocking on the door.

Jumping slightly, you sighed and called out. "Hang on!" You finished rinsing the soap off your hands and shut the water off, drying your hands with the towel as another series of knocks sounded, this time much louder than before. 'Fucking impatient, drunk people.'

You unlocked the door and were in the process of opening it when the door was forced open and shut quickly, leaving you face to face with…

"Han?" you asked as he locked the door.

He only looked at you for a second before he closed the distance between you, hands grabbing your hips as his lips crashed against yours, guiding you back to the sink counter. Your hands grabbed his shirt, holding on as he pushed you against the counter.

"Fuck, I missed you," he growled, grinding against you as his lips trailed down your neck. "H-Han," you whispered in a shaky breath.

"We can't. Not here," you mumbled as his lips moved back up, stopping by your ear. Han didn't seem to hear you. Or he didn't care.

"You're all I've been able to think about," he continued, kissing along your jaw as his hands wandered, one moving to the small of your back, the other sliding down to your thighs, nails digging into your skin.

"Han," you warned, your voice wavering as his lips brushed over your pulse point.

"I just want to turn you around and bury myself inside you."

You let out a soft moan as Han's hand moved up your thigh, sneaking under your skirt and finding your lace covered clit easily. His fingers pushed the fabric of your panties against you and you knew he could feel the wetness that seeped through the material.

"Shit," he groaned, moving both hands to push you up to sit on the counter, fingers tracing over your slit. "You're so wet."

Your hands moved, one tangling in his hair as you pulled him to meet your lips in a searing kiss, his thumb pulling your panties aside and fingers seeking your wet heat, sinking two fingers inside your warm cunt with a sigh. You, on the other hand, were already a writhing mess as he began to pump his fingers in and out of you.

It was slow at first, but soon he was moving at a steady pace, curling his fingers up against the soft spongy spot inside you. "H-Han," you moaned, your free hand moving to undo his pants, slipping your fingers under the waistband of his underwear.

Your fingers wrapped around his hardened length, making him gasp out a moan, eyes fluttering shut as you started to pump your hand along his cock in time with the thrust of his fingers. "Oh fuck, baby," he moaned. "You're gonna kill me."

Your lips found his again in a sloppy kiss as you both tried to get the other off desperately. "Shit. You're so wet and tight. Just like last time," Han whispered, brow furrowing as your hand squeezed him firmly. "Bet you'd take my cock just as well, too."

Your cheeks burned, face flushing as he spoke. "Would you like that, baby?" Han asked softly. "You want me to bend you over the sink and fuck you where everyone could overhear?"

You moaned a little louder, walls clenching around his fingers as you spread your legs a little wider. You felt his thumb drag over your clit, rubbing circles in time with his thrusts. "Hannie," you mewled as his fingers pushed you closer and closer to the edge. "So close."

Han moaned, hips bucking into your hand as you lazily stroked him. "You gonna cum for me, baby girl?" he cooed. "Gonna be my good little girl and cum for me?"

You whined in response, knees and thighs squeezing his waist as your orgasm came rolling over you. "That's it," Han whispered, fucking you through your high with his fingers as you continued to jerk him off.

"Keep going, baby. You're doing so good," Han whispered, his voice taking on a much more breathless and whiny tone.

A loud knock at the door pulled you both out of your bubble and you suddenly remembered you were in the middle of a housewarming party at your best friend's apartment.

And here you were, hooking up with his roommate again.

Had you not learned your lesson?

"Sorry," you called out trying to keep your voice stead even though Han's fingers were still stuffed inside your pussy. "I might be a minute. Not feeling well." A shuffling outside the door indicated whoever it was had left. "We're gonna get caught," you hissed at Han, pulling your hand from his underwear and pushing his hand away from your sex before you hopped off the counter.

Han's hands turned you to face the mirror, grabbing your hips and grinding against your ass. "We shouldn't be doing this," you moaned as his hands moved, sliding up to grope your chest over your shirt as he continued to grind his erection into your ass, his lips ghosting over your neck. "Please baby," he whispered.

His hands moved back down to your hips, holding you still as he rutted against you, lips continuing to kiss your neck, teeth grazing your skin. You braced yourself against the sink, fully ready to let Han take you from behind when there was a loud thump against the bathroom door. "Fuck," you hissed. "We can't do this."

You turned around, Han catching you and taking your lips in a breathtaking kiss, one hand holding your hip, the other cupping your cheek tenderly. "My room is just down the hall," he mumbled but you shook your head. "I'm sorry," you answered. "S'too risky."

Han's lips pressed against yours repeatedly, small pleas slipping out between as he begged you.

"Please" kiss. "Baby. I'll be quick" kiss. "I promise" kiss. "Please baby" kiss. "Please?"

You shook your head again. "I'm so sorry," you whispered, pushing him back. Han pulled you closer, kissing you again. "Please stay, Y/N," he murmured. "Don't go." You kept shaking your head.

"I can't... We can't… I-I have to go."

Deciding to act before he could stop you, you darted for the door, unlocking and exiting, leaving Han in the bathroom. You held back tears as you rushed through the apartment, heading for the door but nearly fell back when you ran straight into someone.

Looking up, you were greeted by the smile of your best friend, a smile that dropped almost instantly as he noticed your state. "Whoa, what happened?" he asked, looking you over. You gave him a weak smile. "I'm just not feeling well," you answered.

Felix immediately launched into concerned mode, feeling your forehead and cheeks. "You want me to get you some medicine?" he asked as he guided you to the kitchen to get some water. You shook your head. "It's okay. I think I just want to go home."

Felix shook his head. "Nonsense," he scoffed. "You can just sleep in my bed with me-," he began but you cut him off. "No offense, Lix, but I really just want to go home." His face fell a little but he seemed to understand. He loved his bed very much and knew how much you loved yours.

"Then let me walk you," he offered but you shook your head again. "You're too drunk," you countered. "I'll be fine. I'll text you the moment I get home."

You saw, over his shoulder, Han emerge from the hallway and you hastily added an "I promise."

Felix didn't have the opportunity to respond as you kissed his cheek and darted for the front door, yanking it open and stepping out into the hallway. Once the door shut behind you, it was much easier to breathe. You were grateful the elevator was already on the same floor as you stepped onto the lift and rode it down to the lobby.

You were able to make it from the lobby to your bus stop and from the bus station to your apartment in what seemed like record time.

Once in the comfort of your apartment, you sent Felix a text that you got home safely as you started to undress. After getting into your pajamas, you noticed you had some messages from discord. They were all from Han, apologizing and pleading with you to come back.

It was too late now. You were at home and in bed.

Turning your phone on Do Not Disturb, you flipped it screen down and rolled over on your bed, pulling the covers up to your chin. You'd given in to your stupid temptation and really screwed up but one question remained: how much did you screw up?

It had been a couple days since the party and the incident between you and Han in the bathroom and suffice it to say, you could not get him out of your mind.

The way his fingers felt as they moved in and out of you, his lips against yours and how he nipped and sucked on your skin, leaving behind the smallest of marks you had to cover with makeup.

You could vividly remember how he sounded as he begged you, how his hips moved, bucking into your touch to chase his own high. You felt absolutely awful for leaving him so close to orgasm but you panicked. You were in the bathroom in the middle of a party.

You were terrified that someone was bound to notice that you left the bathroom and then Han left shortly after and word would get back to Felix but he never said anything. Maybe you were okay.

Han had texted you a handful of times that night, alternating between apologizing and begging you to let him come see you.

You left them unanswered because you knew it would be a mistake. You had both been drinking and you chalked your encounter up to that reason. You were drinking and alcohol makes you horny.

That's all there was to it. It had to be.

You heard your phone buzz in your desk drawer and chose to ignore it. You had approximately half an hour left at work before you could clock out and return home for the weekend and hide in your apartment.

You didn't often go into the office as your job was more remote work than anything but occasionally you were required to come in for meetings with potential clients and for quarterly meetings.

You glanced at the clock on your desk, sitting next to the framed photo you had of you and Felix during your last trip to Australia. His smiling face reminded you of why you couldn't own up and tell him that you'd slept with his roommate.

It wasn't like this was the first time you'd done something like this.

[flashback to a few years back]

You woke up, blinking away the sleep as you peered around your surroundings and took in where you were. It was a bedroom you didn't recognize so you weren't sure whose it was.

As you attempted to roll over, you were stopped by a firm chest and realized an arm was draped over your waist. A rather muscular arm.

You glanced back and saw you were in bed with… Changbin.

Your heart raced as you tried to remember the events of the party from last night. It was mostly a haze but you suddenly remembered Felix joining a game of pong with some of his friends and you were left to your own devices and someone came up and asked why you weren't dancing.

That wasn't the first time you'd met Changbin but it was the first time you danced with him. As the night went on and you downed more drinks than you could keep track of, you could vaguely remember how simple conversation turned into more.

Changbin started whispering dirty things in your ear in an attempt to make you blush and fluster you but he didn't imagine you to say yes and agree to go back up to his room with him. And to be quite frank, neither did you.

It was still all a blur but you did remember kissing, stumbling, and pulling at each other's clothes. You remembered his head between your thighs, giving you some of the best head you'd ever had in your life and then the way he held you in place as he fucked you against the mattress. It was some of the best sex you'd had in college but the next morning you were horrified by what you'd done.

You'd slept with one of Felix's friends. You'd gotten stupid drunk and slept with Changbin. The gravity of the situation hit you the morning after as you tried to shimmy out from under Changbin's strong hold on you and slide out of his bed.

He grumbled sleepily as you managed to pull yourself free and started looking for your clothes from the night before. You found your panties and pulled them on before grabbing your jeans and pulling them on and started searching for your shirt, finding it clear over by the door.

You had just pulled it on when you heard Changbin mumble.

"Where you going?"

You looked up at him, he was propped up on his elbow, looking at you from under a mop of fluffy, wavy dark hair with sleepy eyes. His face was slightly puffy from sleeping and a small pout was on his lips. "Oh, I was just…" you trailed off as he sat up fully.

"Trying to sneak out?" He asked with a smirk. "Sorry," you murmured. Changbin shook his head, falling back onto the bed, the covers bunched at his waist. "I was hoping we could go for round two this morning," he said softly as he stretched his arms over his head. You grimaced at the soft tone in his voice.

He was a right contrast from last night, whispering dirty things in your ear as his hand wandered between your thighs and over your ass. "I don't know," you replied, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth. Changbin rolled onto his side, resting his head in his hand. "You weren't this shy last night," he noted.

He was right. As the events of the night prior came back, you could remember flirting back and even whispering some of the dirty thoughts you had as well. You were already screwed, having slept with Changbin once. What was one more round?

[present time]

Felix hadn't been entirely upset with you sleeping with Changbin in college. He'd just ask that you not do it again as he laughed and waved off your concern. And yet, here you were. Doing it again.

Granted, it wasn't like you knew Han was his friend and roommate before sleeping together. You'd never met the guy before. So Felix couldn't fault you entirely for the way things happened.

Could he?

You sighed again, eyes still on the photo. It was one of your favorite memories, spending most of the day at one of the many beaches in Sydney after meeting up with Felix’s sisters.

The buzzing of your phone pulled your attention back to your work and you shook your head as if trying to shake the thoughts from your head. You had work in front of you to finish. You couldn’t afford to daydream about the past.

Han sighed, staring at his phone screen, the most recent messages he sent you staring back at him pathetically. ‘Man, you really fucked this up, didn’t you?’

He hadn’t planned on coming to the bathroom during the party. He didn’t know what came over him but the moment you opened the door, he acted before his brain could catch up.

His body acted on instinct alone, pushing all rational thought from his mind. He wanted you so bad and the alcohol wasn’t helping either. Neither did the short skirt you wore that was so easy to slip his hand under.

He’d been fully ready to bend you over the sink and take you right there, fueled by his lust for you and the drinks he’d had. That had to be it, right?

And as quickly as it started, it ended. He never did find out who was banging on the door. If he had, he was sure he would have given them a piece of his mind.

When he’d managed to compose himself and exit the bathroom, he didn’t see anyone waiting to use the bathroom and he cursed whoever interrupted. By the time he managed to squeeze through the crowd back into the living area, he saw you heading for the door but wasn’t fast enough to catch you.

Even weaving through the crowd and slipping out into the hall proved to be fruitless, the elevator doors shut before he managed to reach them and just like that, you were gone.

He returned to the party, having half a mind to head to your place but he didn’t want to push any boundaries. He resorted to texting you, begging you to come back or offering to go to you to finish what you both started.

His texts went unanswered and he wondered if he’d crossed a line with you but he remembered that your hand was in his pants. You had to have wanted it as much as he did. If that was true, then why were you avoiding him?

Han groaned, flipping his phone face down as Felix entered the apartment through the front door. His roommate eyed him curiously, noticing the phone on the kitchen island that Han currently sat at.

“Everything alright?” Felix asked as he slipped his shoes off and headed into the kitchen, setting the black plastic bag he carried on the counter. Han lifted his head from his arms and gave his roommate a guarded look.

“You remember that girl I hooked up with a while ago?” He asked. ‘Your best friend.’

Felix nodded. “The one who let you restrain her?” Felix asked, opening the plastic bag and pulling out the items he’d picked up from the store on his way home. Han nodded as he watched Felix. “Yeah,” he answered.

“Is she still ignoring your messages?” Felix asked, turning to look at him. Han nodded again, silently as he picked at the peeling black polish on his nails. “I’m sorry man,” Felix said with a sigh as he put the beef he’d purchased away.

“I know you said you really liked her.”

Han nodded again. “I do really like her,” he murmured as Felix put the plastic bag away to recycle. “Even when she doesn’t answer your messages?” He asked, leaning on the counter.

Han nodded yet again. “Even then, I still really like her.”

Felix let out another deep sigh, letting his head drop before he gathered his thoughts and stood up straight. “Then call her.”

Han’s gaze snapped up to meet his roommates. “Or better yet,” Felix said with a smirk. “You know where she lives. Go see her.” Han shook his head furiously. “No. I think that would cross a line. Especially if she doesn’t want to see me.”

Felix frowned as Han continued picking at his nails. “Then just call her. The worst she can do is not pick up.” Han sighed, still looking dejected. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Felix stared at his roommate, unsure of how to help him.

They had gotten pretty close before moving in together so Felix clearly cared about him. He’d hoped that meeting you would make Han forget about the ghost girl and focus instead on you. That was his entire reason for introducing the two of you in the first place.

Felix turned and moved to the pantry, opening the door and stepping inside to find the one thing he knew might cheer his friend up. He found the box on a shelf in the back, hiding behind the cans of soup and grabbed it.

He returned to the kitchen, setting the box down on the counter with a loud thud and smiled at Han as he looked up. Han’s eyes widened comically as he looked at the box and back up at Felix a small smile on his face.

Brownies.

Felix did most of the work. Normally he’d make brownies from scratch but he didn’t have all the ingredients he needed and this was an emergency. Han mostly watched as Felix mixed the batter together and only helped when it was time to pour and put the pan in the oven. He also helped clean up by licking the cake spatula while Felix washed the bowl.

“Can I ask you something?” Felix asked as he dried the bowl while Han sat on the kitchen island reading the tub of icing. Han looked up at him. “Hmm?” He hummed in response as Felix put the now dry mixing bowl away and turned to face him.

“What do you think of Y/N?” Felix watched as Han’s cheeks turned pink and he suspected his hunch was right. “Why do you ask?” Han asked, turning his focus back to the tub of chocolate icing.

Felix shrugged, moving to take the tub from him. “I mean, you two seemed to get along at the party and I’ve been trying to introduce the two of you for a while now,” he answered, setting the icing on the counter and looking up at Han.

Despite the pink in his cheeks, Han shrugged. “She seems cool. To be honest, we didn’t get to talk much,” he answered. “Minho was all over her for getting him that drink and then she was with Jeongin and his friends after that.”

There was something in Han’s voice. Something Felix had a hard time deciphering but it sounded an awful lot like jealousy. “Y/N and Jeongin are just friends,” Felix said as he shifted his weight to his other foot, leaning against the counter next to Han. “Oh? Well, she was also pretty cozy with Yeonjun.” Han pouted.

Felix nodded, fighting the urge to smile. ‘Yep. That’s jealousy.’

“Yeah. Yeonjun was kind of all over her but I don’t think there’s much there,” Felix replied. “Yeonjun isn’t exactly Y/N’s type.” Han glanced at Felix, quiet for a moment before asking. “What’s her type?”

Felix let the smile spread this time as he looked at his friend. “Why? Are you interested?” He asked.

The way Han sputtered and vehemently denied it told Felix everything he needed to know. Han liked you and he was more determined than ever to hook the two of you up. Whatever it took.

The clock read half past five when you finally left the office, purse in hand as you exited the elevator into the lobby. You were extremely grateful you wouldn’t have to return to the office again for a while and would be able to do the rest of your work from the comfort of your own home.

The trip home was uneventful, taking the bus to the train station and riding that to your stop. You often wished you could afford an apartment in one of those nice high rises near your job but it was just too expensive.

Upon arriving home, you removed your shoes, cursing as you put them away, glad to not have to wear those again for a while. You decided on the way home to stop and grab something to eat rather than make something.

Going into the office was much more taxing than you remembered.

Once changing out of your uncomfortable office attire, you settled on your couch with your food, a glass of wine, and turned on your tv to watch the latest episode of the show you were currently obsessed with.

You wondered if Felix was caught up and looked around for your phone before remembering you left it in your purse. Grumbling, you got up and set your food on the coffee table, walking over to where you left your purse on the counter to reach inside and grab your phone before returning to your seat.

As you unlocked the screen, your eyes fell on the latest notification from Han.

Hanji: if you want me to stop messaging you, i will.

You quickly pulled up his messages and scrolled up to read the ones he’d send since the party.

Hanji: please don’t shut me out again Y/N Hanji: i had no idea you were Felix’s best friend Hanji: did you know? Hanji: i mean, you must have Hanji: that’s why youve been avoiding me? Hanji: right? That has to be why Hanji: unless i did something wrong? Hanji: if i did i’m really sorry Hanji: please answer me baby Hanji: i’m so sorry. My head is all fucked up rn Hanji: all i can think about is you Hanji: all i’ve been able to think about is you Hanji: y/n please can we just talk about this? Hanji: about what happened last night? Hanji: if i crossed a line, i’m really sorry but unless i’m an idiot, it seemed like we both were into what happened Hanji: i’m not mad. I just don’t understand why you keep pushing me away Hanji: god this really sucks. I really liked talking to you and then we had some of the most mind blowing sex and you just disappeared Hanji: then you showed up again and then the thing in the bathroom happened and now you’re not talking to me again Hanji: not that you were talking before. Fuck now i’m rambling. Hanji: look. I’m really sorry. I’m sorry if i crossed any lines. I’m sorry if i made you uncomfortable and i’m sorry for anything i might have done to offend or hurt or upset you. Hanji: if you want me to stop messaging you, i will.

You let out a sigh, your food and television forgotten as you typed a reply.

You: you have nothing to apologize for Han. It’s my fault. When I invited you over, I had no idea you were Felix’s roommate. If I had known, I never would have invited you over. You: i promise you didn’t make me uncomfortable. I’m more mad at myself for slipping up. I told myself after i found out you were Lix’s roommate that we couldn’t continue. We can’t continue. regardless of how i feel, we can’t keep going You: i had no intention of seeing you again after learning who you were but Felix lied to get me to come to the apartment and force us to meet. I’m sorry for coming into your home and if i made you uncomfortable in anyway it was not my intention You: i’m sorry for the way i left but i panicked. I was afraid we were going to get caught.

Your eyes widened as you saw the familiar three dots appear as Han typed a response. It was then you noticed the read receipts on your messages. Before you could close the app, his reply popped up.

Hanji: why didn’t you just tell me? I’ve been beating myself up over this when all i really wanted to do was talk to you Hanji: I know it hasn’t been long since we met, but i really like you y/n Hanji: why are you so afraid of getting caught? We’re adults y/n. we can sleep together if we want to. It’s not about Felix You: you didn’t know Lix in college, did you? Hanji: no but why does that matter? You: because this isn’t the first time ive hooked up with one of his friends… Hanji: …your answer to the game at the party. You: yes. There were two people in that circle i’ve slept with Hanji: so me… who else? You: god this is so embarrassing. talking about my sexual history Hanji: i’m not going to judge you y/n You: …it was changbin. Hanji: yoooo really? You: stop! 😫 Hanji: sorry 😶 but really? You: yeah. It was back in college. We were both drunk at a frat party. He asked me to dance and one thing led to another and yeah… You: i felt so awful and guilty when i finally told felix. He says he wasn’t upset but i still felt awful. Hanji: did you know changbin and felix were friends when you and changbin slept together? You: yes. Which is why i felt so bad Hanji: then its different with us. You: how? Hanji: you didn’t know felix and i were roommates. You hadn’t met me yet. You: …i mean. I guess thats true Hanji: you only found out afterwards. How did that happen by the way? You: i was doing my laundry and felix brought up the subject of my… kink. He mentioned he had a friend who recently hooked up with someone and did the same thing i mentioned i liked Hanji: you and felix talk about your sexual kinks? You: i mentioned it when i was drunk. Hanji: ahh. Checks out. I did that too. But wait. He mentioned his friend? You: yeah. So he asked if i was interested in meeting his friend and i said i wasn’t sure so he pulled up their instagram… Hanji: no. Fucking. Way You: yes. He said you had hooked up with a girl recently and tried the whole anon sex and restraint thing and well.. i guess he was talking about us. Hanji: i’m sorry but i’m laughing right now You: why are you laughing??? This is mortifying! Hanji: what are the odds??? I mention to my roommate one time that i hooked up with a strange woman i met online, had some of the best sex ever and this whole time, it was his best friend. You: …it’s not funny 😩 Hanji: it’s a little funny You: 😠 is not Hanji: 🤏 just a bit You: wait a second… Hanji: ??? You: did you say you liked me? Earlier? Hanji: scroll up babe. I did You: … Hanji: and i’ve been dying to know You: …if i like you too? Hanji: yes. It’s been eating at me. You: why? Hanji: uh because i like you, you dork

When you didn’t respond, he continued.

Hanji: so do you? Hanji: like me? You: …yes Hanji: oh thank god. I was holding my breath and about to die You: but it doesn’t change anything Hanji: what? Why the hell not? You: because you’re Lix’s roommate and i’m his best friend. Hanji: look, forget felix for a second. Pretend like he’s not there. Hanji: what do you want? Do you like me? You: yes Hanji: do you want me? You: Han… Hanji: felix has been snapped from existence, okay? Thanos style snap Hanji: he doesn’t exist. Never did. Hanji: do you want me? You: …yes. Hanji: how bad do you want me? You: so fucking bad Han Hanji: yeah? You want me to touch you? You: yes. Fuck i want you to touch me so bad Hanji: want my hands all over you You: i want your hands all over me, Han Hanji: fuck, you’re making me want to come over You: you can’t Hanji: why not? You: because it’s late Hanji: hasn’t stopped me before Hanji: Felix won’t notice. He’s too engrossed in his phone to ask. Hanji: let me come over and make you feel good baby Hanji: please after last time, i can’t get you out of my head.

You were about to respond when your phone buzzed, a text from Felix flashing across the top of the screen.

Lixie: are you busy? You: uh. Not really Lixie: 👀 oh? Am I interrupting something? You: it’s nothing. What are you up to? Lixie: well i was gonna invite you to come over and watch this movie with Jisung and i but he just said he was going to bed so maybe another time >: You: lol it’s also pretty late Lixie: yeah. I didn’t think this through but while i have you here can i ask you something?

Your eyes caught sight notifications from Han at the top of your screen as you tried to focus on the texts from Felix.

You: i was actually about to head to bed Lixie: awww ): another time then. Don’t wanna keep your bed waiting You: lmao shut up. I’ll text you tomorrow Lixie: sweet dreams y/n~ You: u too Lixie

You pulled Han’s messages back up.

Hanji: please? 🥺 Hanji: baby? Where did you go? Hanji: i’m in bed now. I’d rather be in yours though 😫 You: sorry. Lix texted me lol Hanji: i figured that’s what happened. What did he want? You: to invite me over for a movie but you went to bed so he changed his mind. Hanji: if i go back out there will you come over? 👀 You: no??? Hanji: ): but babyyyyy You: if i came over now i’d have to spend the night Hanji: 👀 im not entirely against the idea You: in Felix’s room Hanji: aww booooo why? You: why would i sleep in your room? Hanji: well, we wouldn’t be sleeping baby (; You: …and just like that, felix would know everything Hanji: boooo 😑 fine. Then let me come over. You: but you said you were going to bed. Felix might think you’re up to something if you leave now Hanji: goddamn it… Hanji: guess i’ll have to settle for this then You: for what? Hanji: [image]

You tapped on the image and nearly dropped your phone.

You weren’t expecting anything but the sight of Han’s hand curved over the outline of his obvious erection sent a wave of heat and blood rushing to your core.

You quickly got up from the couch, cleaning up your food, downing the rest of your wine before heading to your room and climbing into bed. As you settled against the cushions on your bed, Han sent another message.

Hanji: you wanna see more? Hanji: all you have to do is ask baby You: jfc Han. Warn me next time 😫 Hanji: haha no can do baby You: i was sitting on my couch all unassuming Hanji: are you still on your couch? You: no. I’m in bed now Hanji: let me see

You turned your camera on, snapping a picture of your thighs, tiny sleep shorts and all to send to him.

Hanji: fuck. Send me another You: no u first Hanji: be careful what you wish for baby

You giggled as you waited for Han to send another picture. This time it was his hand disappearing into his pants.

Hanji: more? You: hmmm. whatcha reaching for? 🤔 Hanji: oh when i get my hands on you next…

You bit your lip in anticipation as he no doubt snapped another picture which appeared quickly. You opened it and your mouth watered at the sight of his hard cock in his hand. You pressed your thighs together and quickly typed a response.

You were in the middle of typing when your phone buzzed with the notification of a call from discord. Han was calling you.

You scrambled to answer it.

“H-hello?” Your voice was shaking but on the other end, Han was just as breathless. “You like those pictures?” He asked, half amused.

“Mhmm. I did,” you answered, settling back into your pillows. “It’s been a bit since I’ve seen you,” you added. Han chuckled, a soft sigh leaving his lips. “Are you… touching yourself right now?” You asked.

Han fell silent before answering. “Are you not?”

You shook your head. “No, actually. Not yet,” you answered, moving your hand to rest on your thigh. “Jumped the gun, sorry about that, baby,” Han replied, making you smile, biting your bottom lip to hold in a giggle.

“Do you need an incentive?”

“Hmm what will you give me?” You were teasing him now but Han couldn’t be bothered to care. “Whatever you want, baby,” he answered, his hand moving slowly as he stroked himself, listening to the sound of your breathing.

“Whatever I want?” You repeated him. “Yes. Whatever you want, baby.”

“Hmm, send me a video?”

Fuck, you were going to be the death of him.

“Why don’t I just video call you?” He asked, moving his hand a little faster. “What if that’s not what I want?” You asked, making him pout. “Why ask for a video when you can watch me live, baby?” He asked.

You fell silent this time. He hesitated, thinking he might have gone too far before his phone buzzed. You had started a video call. Han flipped his camera feed around before turning it on. He was greeted by your face in the neon pink lights of your room. “Hey gorgeous,” he said with a smirk.

A shy smile crossed your face. “Hey,” you replied. “You really aren’t touching yourself?” Han asked, clicking his tongue when you shook your head. “You said you’d give me an incentive,” you reminded him. Han drew his bottom lip between his teeth before answering.

“I did, but I don’t think you’ve earned it.” Your laugh made his heart beat erratically. “That’s not how incentives work, Han,” you answered. He smiled sheepishly. “How about you show me what you’re doing?”

Han glanced down at his hand wrapped around his cock and then back up to the screen. “Is that incentive enough?” He asked. You tilted your head playfully. “We’ll see.” He rolled his eyes, letting out a groan before he complied, tilting the screen down so you could see his hand moving up and down his shaft.

He only gave you a small preview before tilting the screen back up.

“Good enough?” He asked. You smiled and moved, the screen a blur for a moment as you set your phone down. Han slowed his hand and watched as you reappeared. You had propped your phone up and were now sitting in front of it.

He watched as you sat back on your heels, hands moving to the bottom of your sweatshirt, playing with the hem. “You gonna strip for me?” He asked softly, keeping his eyes on his phone screen.

You slowly lifted the sweatshirt, exposing your stomach first and then pulled it off over your head swiftly, leaving you in your shorts and a lacy bralette that glowed in the neon pink lights. Han let out a groan as you leaned in a bit closer.

“Keep going, baby,” he rasped. “Give me a show.”

You smiled at him through the screen. “Only if you give me one.”

Han moved at the speed of light, setting his phone up on his bed to the side of him. “Better?” He asked softly as his fingers wrapped around his cock and resumed stroking. You nodded wordlessly and sat back up.

Han watched as your thumbs tucked under the waistband of your shorts and slowly pushed them down, sitting up on your knees to remove them. Your panties matched the bralette and Han nearly moaned at the sight of you kneeling on your bed, knees spread in the pink glow of your room.

“Don’t tease me, baby girl,” he groaned. He watched as your hands moved, sliding slowly up your thighs from your knees. One hand moved up to your chest, grabbing your tit over the lace as the other drifted slowly between your thighs.

“Fuck I wish I was there,” Han groaned, his head falling back against his pillows for a moment before he looked back at the screen. In the time between, you’d removed your panties and were now sitting with your thighs spread, giving him a front row seat to your glistening sex.

“Go on,” he said. “Touch yourself for me.”

Your hand traveled down between your thighs, fingers slowly playing with your clit before dipping down to your slit. Instead of sinking your fingers into your entrance, you pulled them back up, spreading your labia for him to see just how wet you were.

“Fuck,” he groaned, hand squeezing himself and imagining it was your cunt.

“Finger yourself for me baby, go on,” he instructed, almost growling when two of your fingers disappeared inside your wet heat. The moan that came out of you as your fingers curled inside you was almost enough to tempt him into leaving his room and going to your apartment.

He wanted to be there so badly. He wanted his fingers moving slowly in and out of your tight hole. He wanted to finger you slowly, torturously until you begged him to fuck you. “Keep going,” he urged. “Faster,” he added. “I know you can take it.”

Han watched as your hand moved faster, fingers disappearing inside your cunt with a loud, wet squelching sound not unlike when he fingered you at the party.

“Fuck, I really wish I was there now,” he groaned. “If I was there, I’d have you spread out on that pretty comforter as I fucked you.” You moaned loudly, spurring him on. “And I’d mark that pretty neck. Cover it so everyone knows you’re mine.”

His possessiveness was coming out but he couldn’t be bothered to care and judging by the way your hand moved faster, you didn’t seem to mind.

“Han,” you gasped out his name, fingers curling as you no doubt tried to reach the spongy spot he’d reached before, the spot that had your thighs shaking around his hand as he coaxed your orgasm out of you.

“That’s it sugar,” he grunted, fucking his fist faster. “Just like that. Keep going.”

You let out a breathy moan, the heel of your hand rubbing against your clit as your fingers curled more, attempting to reach that sweet spot. “Hannie, I’m close,” you whimpered. “You gonna cum for me baby?” He asked, his own high approaching rapidly. You nodded, teeth sinking into your bottom lip.

“I’m gonna cum,” you moaned. “Do it,” Han encouraged. “Be a good girl and cum all over those fingers. Pretend they’re mine. Cum for me baby girl.”

Your thighs shook, body shuddering as you moaned, fingers still moving as you rubbed your clit with the heel of your hand. “Hng Hannie~” you whined as your orgasm washed over you in waves.

Watching you come undone pushed Han over the edge, cursing and groaning as he came, painting his stomach with his release. His hand continued to stroke himself, making sure to get every last drop.

Han glanced over to his phone, breathing heavily. You had fallen back against your pillows, chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. Taking the moment to grab a few tissues, Han cleaned himself off, stuffing his cock back in his pants before he wiped his hands and grabbed his phone. “Babe?” He called softly.

“You alright?”

You stirred slowly, rolling onto your side before sitting up and leaning forward. “‘M okay,” you murmured, smiling tiredly at him. Han returned the smile before letting out a sigh. “That was amazing,” he finally said, making you hide your face in your sheets before you looked back up. “Yeah. Would have been better if you were here though.”

Han tilted his head playfully. “Next time?” He asked, hopeful. You smiled at him again. “We’ll see,” you answered softly. “It’s getting late,” you commented, squinting at the screen, no doubt looking at the clock in the corner.

Han checked his. You were right. It was well past midnight. “I don’t want to hang up,” he murmured, watching you through the screen. “Me neither,” you admitted just as softly. “We could just stay on the phone?” He asked. You nodded before sitting up quickly. “Let me put some clothes back on.”

Han whined as you disappeared. “You could always just stay naked!” He reminded you, making you laugh off screen. A moment later, you reappeared in a long tee, shifting to lay on your side with your phone propped up against the pillows.

“I wish I was next to you,” Han whispered, watching you through the screen. “Me too.” You nodded as you spoke. “Ugh, I just wanna hold you,” Han whined. “And kiss you.” Your smile widened as he spoke. “Yeah?” You asked.

Han nodded. “Yes. I just want to hold you so tight and kiss you. All over that cute face,” he answered, making you giggle. “Next time,” you murmured, making him smile. “Next time?” He asked again excitedly, heart hammering when you nodded.

“Yeah, next time.”

[musingsofahufflepuff]

coffee shop headcanons

mattheo, enzo, theo, blaise, & draco; fluff

a/n: to all my draco people, sorry for the draco slander. also, first time writing about blaise and draco, so they might be ooc, don’t yell at me. this is shamelessly more starbucks focused bc i work there. another lil guy to make up for how long the theo soulmate au is taking ♡

Mattheo

♡ this man is a cold brew guy, whatever delivers the most caffeine the fastest. inject it into his veins if you must.

♡ definitely adds espresso shots to all his drinks, even the cold brew.

♡ energy drink in one hand, coffee in the other.

♡ i’m biased, but i think he’d vibe with a lavender chai when he’s not getting his fix. (if you catch him ordering a dirty chai, mind your business)

Enzo

♡ he’s a “barista’s choice” kinda guy.

♡ he’ll walk up to the cashier and with that charming little smile of his go, “i’ll have whatever your favorite is.”

♡ he frequently gets little heart doodles and stickers added to his cups bc the employees love him.

♡ this boy also loves a seasonal drink and will get his friends to get one with him.

Theo

♡ espresso lover, 100%

♡ however, if the beans are shit, don’t bother.

♡ latte art lover, you can make a little cat drawing on his coffee?? do it, do it rn.

♡ secretly loves a pumpkin spice latte with enzo.

Blaise

♡ iced coffee all the way, no sweeteners bc he likes the taste.

♡ will also drink black brewed coffee, dark roast.

♡ can and has been suckered into getting a seasonal drink with enzo

♡ ofc he doesn’t actually like them, why would you ask him that???

Draco

♡ fucking iced matcha lattes because they’re a bitch to make.

♡ or he’s getting the equivalent of a frappuccino/frozen coffee. (the guys tease him relentlessly for this)

♡ does not like the taste of coffee, so he has to add a ton of milk and sugar to it.

♡ he just prefers tea.