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#I just realized how much this is (this is now in the morning)
rootedinrevisions · 2 days
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Enough for You: Part 2
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SUMMARY: After deciding you need time away, you ask Tyler for some space to process everything. During your absence, Tyler finds himself constantly thinking about you, realizing how much he misses your presence and what you mean to him. Struggling with how to approach the situation, Tyler begins sending you small, thoughtful gifts, hoping to keep some connection alive while respecting your need for time. Each gift carries a subtle message, his way of reminding you of his feelings without overstepping. Finally, unable to stay away any longer, Tyler shows up at your door, ready to talk and confront the growing emotions between you both.
WARNINGS: More Angst. (with a little fluff)
WORD COUNT: 5.2k
OTHER PARTS: PART 1
NOTE: There will be a PART 3! I have it mostly written and just need to finish editing it. Part 2 got away from me so I decided to break it up as to not have one crazy long fic.
TAG LIST: @omgbrianab I @shanimallina87 I @callsign-diva I @starshinegrl I @willowpains I @beltzboys2015-blog
The team gathered around the RV, tension simmering beneath the surface. Things hadn't been the same since Kate joined, and you could feel the shift in every quiet conversation, every glance that Tyler cast in her direction. After the last storm chase, when Tyler sat next to you and apologized for breaking your heart, you knew it was time to make a decision. You couldn’t stay—not with the constant reminders of everything you wished for but couldn’t have.
After a sleepless night, you made your decision. You requested a leave of absence from the team—just two weeks to get your mind straight, to figure out if you could stay and watch Tyler build a life with someone else. When you approached Tyler, he looked at you with a mix of regret and reluctance, clearly not wanting you to go but knowing he had no right to stop you.
“I need time,” you said softly, your voice steady but your heart anything but. “I just…I need to clear my head, and figure out what’s next for me.”
Tyler's eyes searched yours, his jaw tightening as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. “If that’s what you need,” he said quietly, “I won’t stop you. But…I’m gonna miss you around here.”
You nodded, knowing he meant it, but it wasn’t enough. He wasn’t enough, not when he had already chosen someone else. “I’ll be back in two weeks,” you told him, and without waiting for a response, you turned and walked away, feeling the weight of his gaze on your back.
Tyler stepped into the familiar café, the warm smell of espresso and freshly baked pastries hitting him as he waited in line. He pulled out his phone, scrolling absently through messages and notifications, his mind elsewhere. You’d been gone for three days now—three long, silent days. The truck was quieter without your voice, without your little side comments or the music you always played to keep everyone’s spirits up during long chases.
Dexter had grabbed his coffee the first morning you were gone. He hadn’t even noticed at first—it wasn’t quite right, but he’d brushed it off. Just a small thing, nothing major. Today, though, as he stood in line, he realized he didn’t even know what he wanted. You always got his order just right without him even having to ask.
The barista behind the counter smiled at him, her pen poised over the notepad. “What can I get for you?”
Tyler opened his mouth, then paused. Was it a double shot of espresso or a single? Did he like anything else added to it? God, how had he never paid attention to this before?
“Uh…” he hesitated, trying to piece it together. “Just a regular coffee, I guess. With…sugar?”
The barista gave him a polite nod, but he could tell she was already moving on, another nameless face in the line of customers. He sighed as he handed her his card, feeling oddly unsettled by the whole interaction. Black coffee wasn’t right—he knew that much. He’d drink it, but it wouldn’t be what he actually wanted. Just another thing that wasn’t right anymore.
As he took the cup and left the café, he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling. It wasn’t the coffee that was bothering him. It was the fact that you weren’t there to get it right for him, to know the little things he hadn’t even realized mattered. It hit him, harder than he expected. He’d taken you for granted—your presence, your attention to detail, the way you just knew him in ways no one else ever did. And now, with you gone, he felt the emptiness in every small part of his day.
Tyler climbed back into his truck, setting the coffee in the cup holder without touching it. He sat there for a moment, staring at it, the silence around him feeling heavier than it ever had before. You weren’t there, and for the first time, he was starting to realize how much it bothered him.
The truck rumbled down the highway, the storm clouds gathering on the horizon. Boone was riding shotgun, his hand casually scrolling through his phone as he played DJ for the drive. Tyler had barely noticed at first, too focused on the darkening sky ahead, but as the third song in a row played, something nagged at him.
It wasn’t that Boone had bad taste in music—he didn’t. It was just that none of these songs hit quite right. The rhythm was off, the mood wasn’t there, and Tyler felt an uncomfortable itch in the back of his mind, like something was missing.
The music was background noise, sure, but when you were the one picking the playlist, it had never felt like just noise. Somehow, you always knew exactly what to play. Whether it was an old classic rock song he loved or something new that perfectly matched the mood, every song you chose seemed to be one of his favorites. It was uncanny, really, how well you knew him.
Boone scrolled through another song, switching it halfway through. Tyler’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel, the silence between songs suddenly feeling heavier.
“Everything good, man?” Boone asked, glancing over at him.
“Yeah,” Tyler muttered, though he wasn’t sure he believed it himself. He didn’t say anything, but inside, his thoughts were racing. How had he never noticed before? All those times you were riding beside him, picking the perfect song, knowing his favorite tracks better than anyone else… It was like you could read his mind. Or maybe it was something else—something deeper.
Boone finally settled on another song, some alt-rock tune Tyler didn’t recognize, and the sound filled the cab again. But it didn’t feel right. None of it did. The whole drive felt off without you there beside him, smiling softly as you hummed along to the music, your eyes flicking over to him when a particularly good song came on.
Tyler’s chest tightened. You’d always been there, quietly in tune with him, noticing things no one else did. It was in the way you picked the songs, the way you knew when he needed silence, or when to play something loud to get his energy up before a storm. It was in the little things, all the details he hadn’t appreciated before.
How had he been so blind?
He thought about you now, at home, away from the team, from him. He thought about all those moments—so many little things that added up to something big, something he hadn’t let himself see. The music was just one piece of it, but now that he was noticing, he couldn’t stop. The playlist had always been yours, just like so many other parts of his life.
Boone’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. “You good with this song?”
Tyler blinked, shaking his head slightly. “Yeah,” he said, though the truth was, no, he wasn’t. Not at all.
He missed you. And for the first time in a while, he wasn’t sure what to do.
Tyler's hand hovered over his phone, thumb tracing the edge of the screen as the truck rumbled beneath him. They were pulling off to the side of the road, another quick pit stop before the storm hit. The others were already filing out of the truck, stretching and talking about what was ahead as they made their way into the gas station for drinks and snacks. But Tyler’s mind wasn’t on the storm, or the chase, or even the team. It was on you.
He should call. He needed to call. He could feel the weight of your absence settling deeper with every passing mile, every quiet moment that used to be filled by your voice or your laugh. The last few days had been hell without you. Coffee tasted wrong, the music sounded off, and for the life of him, he couldn’t shake the hollow feeling in his chest.
His finger hovered over your name in his contacts, but then it hit him, hard, like a punch straight to the gut: those words you said to him before you left. “I just want to go back to before. Before I met you. Before I let myself believe that there was a chance.”
He closed his eyes, the memory slamming into him with full force. The look on your face, the tremble in your voice—God, how had he let it get to that point? How had he been so blind, so caught up in everything else that he never noticed the way you felt, the way you saw him? All those moments, all those signs, and he missed every single one of them.
The phone slipped from his hand and landed on the seat beside him with a dull thud. His chest tightened, shame twisting deep in his gut. You’d believed there was a chance. And he’d taken that hope and crushed it. He’d hurt you, someone who’d always been there for him, always knew what he needed before he even asked. You’d been everything.And all he did was break you. And he hadn’t been able to see it until now.
Tyler’s jaw clenched as he stared down at his phone. He could call you, tell you he missed you. He could apologize, say all the things he should have said before. But would it even matter? You were done with him. He could still hear it in your voice when you walked away—how tired you sounded. How heartbroken. He’d made you feel like you weren’t enough, and the truth was, you were more than enough. You’d always been more than enough.
He was the one who didn’t deserve you. He was the one who wasn’t enough for you.
His hand curled into a fist, the phone still lying untouched beside him. He’d been blind, selfish, wrapped up in his own world while you quietly slipped through his fingers. The thought of you never answering his call, of you moving on without him, stung like hell. But why would you answer? After everything he’d done—or failed to do—why would you want anything to do with him?
He let out a breath, heavy and shaky, feeling the full weight of his regret pressing down on him. He didn’t deserve you. Not after what he’d done. Not after how blind he’d been to how much you’d cared.
Later that night, Tyler sat on the edge of his bed, the quiet of his room pressing in on him. The team had settled in at the small motel, the storm still hours away from reaching them. Normally, nights like these were his favorite—calm before the chaos, time to relax before the adrenaline kicked in. But tonight, there was no calm. Just the heavy weight of everything he’d been trying to ignore since you left.
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, tugging open his duffel bag to pull out a pair of sweatpants. But as he reached for them, his hand brushed against something solid at the bottom of the bag. Frowning, he pushed aside his clothes until his fingers closed around a book—a book he hadn’t touched in weeks.
He stared down at the cover, his heart giving a sharp twist. The Self-Help Guide to Letting Go of the Past. He had forgotten all about it, shoved in the bottom of his bag after he’d lent it to you. You’d asked for it just last week, something about being curious, but at the time, it hadn’t made much sense to him. You’d never been into these kinds of books before.
Tyler’s thumb traced the worn edges of the cover as the memory of that conversation came rushing back. You’d caught him in the middle of a busy day, the two of you sitting in the RV while the rest of the team was setting up for the next chase. You’d looked almost nervous when you asked if you could borrow it, your voice light, like you were trying to keep things casual. He hadn’t thought much of it then, just handed it over without a second thought, teasing you a little about branching out into self-help.
But now, it hit him all at once. You hadn’t wanted the book. You hadn’t been interested in the advice it had to offer. You’d been looking for something—anything—to connect with him, to spark a conversation, to get his attention. It was just another one of those small things you did that he never took the time to understand.
His chest tightened painfully as he stared at the book, the realization settling over him like a weight he couldn’t shake. You’d been trying to reach out, to bridge the gap between you two, even when he was too blind to notice. And now you were gone. You’d given up, walked away, and he couldn’t blame you. How could he, when he’d been so clueless?
His breath came out in a heavy exhale as he tossed the book onto the bed, running a hand down his face. How could he have been so stupid? How could he have missed all these little moments that showed just how much you cared? The music, the coffee, the book—none of it had seemed like much at the time. But now, with you gone, they all felt like pieces of a puzzle that he hadn’t bothered to put together until it was too late.
He leaned back against the headboard, his gaze fixed on the book lying open beside him. He thought about calling you again, his phone sitting within reach on the nightstand, but the same thoughts stopped him cold. You wouldn’t answer. Why would you? You were done trying to make things work with him. And after everything, he couldn’t blame you for that either.
Tyler’s hand curled into a fist, his frustration building. He wanted to fix this, wanted to make things right, but how could he, when he’d already let you down so badly? He’d missed his chance, and the thought of that—of losing you for good—made his chest ache in a way he hadn’t felt before.
The next morning, Tyler sat on the tailgate of his truck, absently sipping his coffee as the team went about their business. They were prepping for the day’s chase, double-checking equipment and reviewing the radar. Normally, he’d be in the thick of it, but his mind kept drifting, pulled in a direction he wasn’t ready to face.
Lily wandered over, her brow furrowed slightly as she eyed him. "You okay, Ty? You seem…distracted."
He shrugged, taking another sip of his coffee—too sweet, as usual. "Just got a lot on my mind."
Lily gave him a look that said she wasn’t buying it. She leaned against the truck beside him, crossing her arms. "You know, it’s kind of weird. Things have been off since she left. I mean, I knew she did a lot for the team, but…it’s more than that."
Tyler’s grip tightened around the cup, his jaw clenching. He didn’t need the reminder. Every day since you’d been gone, things felt off. The coffee wasn’t right, the music wasn’t right, hell, he wasn’t right. But he couldn’t put it into words—not without admitting what he’d been too stubborn to face.
Lily didn’t stop there. "She always knew what you liked, what you needed—even when you didn’t say it. You might not have noticed, but the rest of us did." She paused, giving him a sidelong glance. "It’s kind of strange not having her around. Things just don’t…flow like they used to."
Tyler said nothing, his mind racing as he took in her words. He hadn’t noticed how much you’d paid attention to him, all the little details you got right. But now that you were gone, it was painfully obvious. The realization gnawed at him, twisting the knot in his stomach even tighter.
Before he could respond, Boone approached, his usual easygoing smile replaced with a more serious expression. "Tyler, can I ask you something?"
Tyler nodded, relieved for the distraction—until Boone’s next words hit him like a punch.
"What’s the deal with you and Kate?"
Tyler blinked, caught off guard. "What do you mean?"
Boone raised an eyebrow. "Come on, man. It’s obvious something’s up. The way she’s been hanging around you, and now that…" He trailed off, his gaze flicking to the side. "Look, everyone’s been wondering."
Tyler let out a slow breath, running a hand through his hair. He didn’t owe anyone an explanation—but the question hung in the air like an anchor, forcing him to confront what he’d been avoiding. "Kate and I… it’s just business. We work well together, but that’s it. She’s brilliant and could really be changing the game with this theory. I care about her, sure, but she’s not…"
He stopped, his words catching in his throat. But what? He didn’t know how to finish that sentence because the truth was sitting right there in front of him, and it was something he hadn’t wanted to face.
Boone’s gaze softened. "She’s not what, Ty? What’s going on?"
Tyler swallowed hard, the words heavy in his chest. "Kate’s not her," he finally admitted, his voice low, almost as if he didn’t want to say it out loud. "The one I pushed away."
Boone nodded, his expression knowing. "You mean… her."
Tyler didn’t need to say your name. It was clear who they were talking about. He nodded, his jaw tightening as he tried to hold back the flood of emotions. "I messed up, Boone. She was always there, always…paying attention to everything, and I was too blind to see it. Now she’s gone, and I don’t think she wants anything to do with me."
Boone sighed, leaning back against the truck. "You know, Ty, you’re not the first guy to mess up. But you don’t have to be the guy who keeps messing up. If you care about her, you need to talk to her. And not through some half-assed text message or phone call."
Tyler glanced up, confused. "Then what do I do?"
Boone smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "You have to show her. Show her that she means something to you. It has to come from the heart. Do something that proves you see her, that you care, and that you’re willing to make it right."
Tyler let Boone’s words sink in, the weight of it settling over him. He knew he’d messed up—badly—and now he wasn’t sure how to fix it. But the idea of showing you how much he cared, of putting action behind the words he’d never said… it was the first thing that made sense in days.
But could he do it? Could he find the courage to face you after everything, after knowing that he was the one who made you feel like you were nothing more than an afterthought?
Tyler stared down at his cup, the taste bitter on his tongue. He had to try. He had to show you that you weren’t just another person in his life. You were the one person he couldn’t stop thinking about, the one he never should’ve let go.
Tyler stood in the parking lot of a gas station, his phone in hand as he stared at the DoorDash app. He’d scrolled through countless options, debating whether to go with something safe like pizza or take a risk. In the end, he decided on the riskier of the two options
He remembered how often you talked about that Chinese takeout place near your apartment, the one you always craved after long days. You’d even convinced him to try it once, and he’d never forgotten the way your eyes lit up when the food arrived. The memory was clearer than he expected, and now, standing alone in a parking lot, he wondered how he’d managed to let someone who knew him so well slip through his fingers.
He couldn’t remember your order. But he remembered that it was something with chicken. He used the pictures on the app and his memory to narrow it down to the dish he thought it was that you liked. With a deep breath, Tyler hit 'order' and added a note for the driver to leave the takeout at your door with a message: "For the long days. I know you love this place. —Tyler."
He hesitated before sending it, wondering if you’d even accept the delivery. Maybe you wouldn’t. Maybe you’d throw the food out without a second thought. But a part of him hoped that you’d understand what he was trying to say—that this was his first step toward making things right.
You sat on the couch, the remnants of the Chinese takeout scattered across the coffee table in front of you. The familiar flavors had been a comfort, even if you were reluctant to admit it. When you first saw the delivery bag at your door, your heart had skipped a beat, reading the note that was attached.
For a moment, you’d considered ignoring it—pushing it away like you’d been trying to push away the thoughts of him. But after a long day, it felt easier to accept the gesture, at least for what it was: food. Nothing more.
Now, sitting here with your phone in your hand, you debated whether or not to send a message. It wasn’t like you owed him anything, but the gesture had been thoughtful in its simplicity. And a small part of you knew he wasn’t doing it to get something in return—at least, you hoped that wasn’t the case.
Finally, you typed out a quick message: "Thanks for the food. It was good."
You stared at the screen for a moment, your finger hovering over the send button. It wasn’t deep. It wasn’t emotional. It was just an acknowledgment. Before you could overthink it, you hit send.
A few seconds passed, and you saw the notification that the message had been delivered. No reply came immediately, and you didn’t expect one. After all, it wasn’t like this was going to fix things between the two of you. But somehow, sending that simple thank you felt like a tiny weight off your chest, even if it barely scratched the surface of the bigger mess you were still sorting through.
The next morning, Tyler paced around his room, racking his brain for the next move. The takeout had been a start, but he needed to do more. He needed to show you that he hadn’t forgotten the details, even if he’d been too blind to see them before. 
His eyes landed on his phone again, this time opening a florist app. He wasn’t going to send roses. You hated roses. You’d said they were too cliché, something people picked when they didn’t really know the person. He wanted to send something that mattered.
Blue. Your favorite color. You’d mentioned it a few times, and while he didn’t know which flower you loved most, he figured blue would be a safe bet.
He scrolled through the bouquets until he found one that seemed perfect—a mix of blue hydrangeas, forget-me-nots, and white lilies. Simple, beautiful, and meaningful.
When he hit send, his heart pounded. It felt like such a small thing, but at the same time, it felt monumental. He was trying to show you that he was paying attention, that he knew you better than he’d let on.
The knock on the door was unexpected, especially after the Chinese takeout from yesterday. You weren’t sure what to expect this time, but as you opened the door and saw the delivery man holding a bouquet of blue flowers, your heart stuttered.
You took the bouquet, your eyes scanning the shades of blue nestled together in the arrangement. There were no roses—just as you’d once mentioned in passing. Instead, there were lilies, hydrangeas, and forget-me-nots. It was simple but thoughtful. He remembered.
As you set the bouquet on the kitchen counter, you caught sight of a small card tucked between the flowers.
“Not roses, just like you said. I hope you like these instead. –Tyler”
A soft sigh escaped your lips as you traced your fingers over the petals. For the first time since leaving the team, something stirred inside you—a mix of gratitude and maybe even the smallest bit of fondness. The forget-me-nots, in particular, caught your attention. They’d always been your favorite, and though you weren’t sure if he knew that or if it was just a lucky coincidence, it felt... special.
You sat down, flowers still in view, and grabbed your phone. Again, you hesitated, unsure of how to respond. But the flowers were different. They meant something more. He’d thought about this.
After a moment, you started typing: “The forget-me-nots are my favorite, by the way. For future reference…”
You hit send, and for a moment, you almost regretted it. Was that too much? But then you shook your head. No, it was just a small hint. A little crack in the wall you’d built. You weren’t letting him back in, but... you weren’t completely pushing him away either.
When your phone buzzed a few seconds later with a reply, you almost didn’t want to look. But curiosity got the best of you.
“Noted.”
It was simple, just like your message had been. But there was something in that word—Noted—that made you think maybe, just maybe, Tyler was trying to show that he wasn’t giving up. At least, not yet.
The sound of the doorbell jolted you from your thoughts. Another delivery? You stood up, your heart sinking slightly, bracing yourself for yet another gesture you weren’t sure how to interpret. When you opened the door, though, it wasn’t another delivery person—it was Tyler.
For a moment, you just stood there, frozen. Tyler was at your doorstep, looking both determined and vulnerable. He glanced at you, his eyes searching for something, maybe a hint of how you were feeling.
“Hi,” he said softly, as if unsure of how to begin.
“Hi,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.
He took a deep breath, his gaze shifting from the floor to your eyes. “I know this is probably the last thing you expected, and I know I don’t really have the right to be here. But I needed to see you.”
You stepped aside to let him in, your heart pounding. Tyler walked into the room, glancing around as if trying to take it all in.
“I want to start by saying that I’m truly sorry,” he began, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “Not just for leaving like I did, but for not seeing how much I hurt you. I’ve had a lot of time to think about it, and it’s clear that I messed up.”
You watched him, your eyes brimming with unshed tears. Tyler ran a hand through his hair, looking both pained and determined. “You know, I’ve been trying to adjust to how things are now, and I’ve realized just how much I miss you. Like, seriously. Boone’s music choices have been driving me nuts. It’s not even that he’s got bad taste, but I keep thinking about how you always knew exactly what songs I liked. And then there was the coffee—Dexter tried to get it for me, and it was all wrong. You always knew how I liked it. It’s the little things that I miss the most.”
A faint smile tugged at your lips despite yourself.
Tyler noticed and seemed to take a breath of relief. “And Kate… she’s a great person, but she’s just a professional colleague. I got caught up in this idea we were working on, and I was so intrigued that I didn’t see how it was affecting you. I should have never left the team like that. I’m sorry for that, too.”
He took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto yours with a mixture of hope and desperation. “But the real reason I’m here is because I can’t stop thinking about you. I’ve had time to think about what I want, and it’s you. I love you. I love how you’re always there for me, how you know my favorite songs, how you care about the little things. I love your smile, your laugh, and even how you get annoyed with me sometimes. I’ve realized all the ways you’ve shown me that you care, and I’ve been blind to it.”
A heavy silence fell between you. Tyler’s eyes were pleading as he awaited your response. When one didn’t come after several moments he sighed. His shoulders tensed, and he began to fidget, anxiety evident in his movements. “Maybe I’ve messed this up. I didn’t mean to make things worse. I should probably just—”
Before he could finish, you stepped closer, reaching out to gently touch his arm. “Don’t,” you said softly. “I’ve waited a long time for you to say something like this. Don’t make me wait any longer.”
A smile of pure relief and happiness spread across Tyler’s face. He pulled you into a tender embrace, his lips finding yours in a kiss that spoke of all the words unspoken, all the emotions unexpressed. It was a kiss full of apologies, regrets, and hope for the future.
When you finally pulled back, you looked up at him, a sense of calm settling over you. “I love you,” you whispered.
Tyler’s eyes softened as he nodded, holding you close. “I love you,” he said, his voice barely more than a breath. He then leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in another kiss.
As your lips finally part, the soft hum of shared breath fills the space between you. Tyler’s forehead rests gently against yours, both of you lingering in that quiet, electric moment. You’re still standing close to the door, the rush of the kiss slowly giving way to a deeper warmth—something steady and grounding. His thumb brushes along your cheek, his gaze locked on yours as though he’s memorizing every detail of this moment.
You both stand there for a beat longer, neither in a hurry to move or speak. But then, Tyler’s eyes drift past you, landing on the bouquet of blue flowers in the vase on the kitchen counter. His lips curl into a smile, a playful glint flickering in his eyes.
“I see the flowers made the cut,” he teases, his voice soft but with that familiar hint of humor. He steps back just enough to point toward them. “Did I do okay?”
You glance over your shoulder at the flowers and then back at him with a smile. “You did more than okay,” you say warmly. “But I think I still owe you a proper thank you.”
His brows arch in interest. “A proper thank you, huh?”
Before he can respond, you reach up, pulling him back down into another kiss, this one slower, more certain, like you’re sealing the promise of something new between you.
169 notes · View notes
roosterforme · 2 days
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Okay, but how about the first time Jake and Darling have a fight? How would that go?
I really like your stories bc while it is fiction, I feel like you show every aspect of a relationship, not only the good parts.
🩷
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OMG, nonny. I'm swooning. I try to make my stories realistic (as much as they can be for fanfic). Nobody is happy and confident all the time. Everyone is stressed about something. Relationships are hard work, and dealing with someone else is sometimes weird and annoying. So thank you, I appreciate that so much.
Jake and Darlin' argue all the time about all the small things in life. They have different opinions on a lot of things, but it's never usually anything they remember by the next day. I think their first big fight would happen shortly after she moves in with him, just after she graduates from school and starts her new job. (angsty below).
"I had the longest day at work," you muttered, shoveling the last bite of the dinner Jake made into your mouth. You set your fork down and stretched as you stood. This whole week was dragging. You realized you were probably complaining more than usual, but you were just over it. "Let's go take a bath and just go to bed. I'll clean up tomorrow morning."
Jake looked at you, his lips pressed into a firm line. "Go ahead. I'll clean it up."
You reached for his hand, but he was already stacking the plates. "You cooked. I don't want you to clean up. I'll do it later," you reiterated.
"Just go get in the bath," he snapped, carrying everything back to the kitchen.
"I don't want to take a bath without you!"
Jake dumped everything into the sink and spun around. "You're not the only one who's working full-time, but you're certainly acting like it."
With narrowed eyes, you asked, "What's that supposed to mean?"
Jake took a deep, practiced breath and let it out slowly. "I know you're tired, but it would be nice for you to acknowledge that I work longer hours than you do. So just go relax in the bath by yourself while I clean up."
"Well, now I don't want to!" You were suddenly so angry, you couldn't see straight, and you also wanted to cry. "You're treating me like a child!"
"You're acting like one."
His words hurt you more than a slap across your cheek would have, and your jaw dropped open. But then his next sentence made it even worse.
"In my house no less."
"Wow," you gasped, turning and running toward the bedroom as you started crying. It wasn't like you weren't paying to be here. You knew it wasn't much, but you had been insistant about giving Jake five hundred dollars per month. And for what? So he could act like you were an unwanted guest?
You ran into the bathroom and slammed the door behind you before you curled up on the tub mat on the floor and sobbed. Work wasn't like school. Trying to figure out how you fit in with your coworkers was exhausting, and you were still learning all the ropes. You drove back here every day mentally drained, and up until tonight, Jake was always the one who seemed willing to listen. You should have just cleaned up the kitchen, because now you felt like you didn't belong anywhere.
"Darlin'." Jake's voice was as sharp as his knock on the door. You tried to dry your tears, but it wasn't working, and maybe you really were a child compared to your boyfriend. "Darlin'!"
"It's not even locked!" you shouted, but it came out as weak as you felt. Jake opened the door, and in an instant, he was curled up on the floor with you, pulling you into his arms.
"Fuck. I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm so sorry I acted like an asshole." You tried to wriggle away from him, but he wouldn't let you. "I think I'm more exhausted this week than I'd like to admit, and I shouldn't have taken it out on you."
In spite of the fact that you were on the floor crying, you mustered up the courage to whisper, "I'm not a child."
"You're an adult," he said firmly. "An adult who just started a very impressive job. You're holding it together better than I did when I was in flight school." He kissed your forehead. "And you're absolutely right. We should have just climbed in our bathtub and then gone right to our bed. The fucking dishes do not matter right now. They can sit in our kitchen sink until whenever the fuck we feel like cleaning up."
Jake rubbed slow, soothing circles against your lower back until you were all cried out. If you thought you were tired before, it was nothing compared to how wrung out you felt now. You wanted to put forth a peace offering and just get up and clean the kitchen, but his lips were on your damp cheek and his voice was in your ear. "I love you, Darlin'. It has been a long week for both of us. I would like nothing more than to climb in a hot bath with you, relax until the water gets cold, and then get in our bed and go to sleep."
You nodded and started the water while he got two towels ready, and then both of you undressed. Jake kissed your bare shoulder and held you while the tub filled. "You belong here," he whispered. "I don't want you anywhere other than our house."
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stunie · 13 hours
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UMEMIYA’S SHAZAM! — sfw ノ fluff ノ umemiya hajime x f!reader ノ entry for @melon-fodder / bofurin brothel’s music collab!! ノ in which a certain white haired stranger comes to you for some help…
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Your routine has stayed the same from the day you moved to Makochi. You’d say good morning to Kotoha at 7:30 AM. Eat breakfast at Pothos and enjoy a quick cup of coffee. And by 8:30, you’re already out the door and heading to work.
It’s not every day that a stranger startles you the way this one did. Your headphones are dangling around your neck now, hands lingering over them as you stare back at him. Wide-eyed and taken aback. Your music continues playing, and you can still hear it.
Maybe that’s why you didn’t hear him approach you.
“I really, really need your help!” He sits beside you, hands clasping together to plead. “You heard it, right?”
“Y-you scared me.” Your brows furrow. “My heart’s racing— you shouldn’t run up to people with headphones in and yell for help! I thought you were hurt.”
It seems to dawn on him suddenly. “Oh, you do have headphones in! No wonder you didn’t hear me earlier.” He lets out a sheepish laugh and rubs the back of his neck. “Sorry! I didn’t notice. You look so pretty— I completely missed it.”
You blink. “Me? Pretty?”
“Yeah.” He tilts his head a bit and looks at you. “Pretty.”
He says it so matter-of-factly that you’re not even sure how to respond. “O-oh. Thank you.”
The man in front of you gives you a bright smile at this. A little too wide— as if he’s confused as to what you’re even thanking him for.
“So..” you fiddle with your headphones. “What did you need help with? It sounded urgent.”
“Ah!” He perks up again. “I almost forgot. I really liked the last song that was playing. Did you hear it? I can’t find it..”
“Oh,” you almost laugh at how he’s already forgotten that you had headphones in for the second time that morning. “Sorry. I didn’t hear it. Did you catch any of the lyrics? I can try to guess.. if you want.”
“Eh? You can do that?”
You nod.
“I’ll sing it!” He’s much closer to you now. If he notices, he doesn’t seem to acknowledge it. You start to think he’s just a really oblivious guy, but it’s not a bad thing.
You think he’s cute.
You watch him with a small smile when he clears his throat, humming in thought as he tries to recall the lyrics of the song he heard. “Hm.. okay, okay. I remember.”
“Listen closely,” he smiles. “It goes like… mmmm. mmmm mmm… and I’ll sacrifice!”
Sacrifice? That doesn’t sound like Kotoha’s playlist.
The laugh slips past your lips before you even realize it. It catches you off guard— and the confused look he gives you only makes you laugh even harder. “Sorry, sorry, ah!” You cover your mouth with the back of your hand when it comes back ten times worse.
You’re forced to hunch over the table now. Completely oblivious to the way his eyes widen at how cute you sound. You look even prettier when you’re like this. But he doesn’t need to tell you that, does he?
It’s so obvious. That’s why he was confused earlier. You already know all this, don’t you? Warmth starts creeping up his cheeks the longer you laugh at him, and his lips feel a little wobbly now.
“Hey…” a crooked smile tugs at his lips when you try to apologize through a giggle again. “How mean. And here I was asking for help!”
You weakly slide your phone in his direction. “I think this should be the song…otherwise,” your voice cracks and you take in a sharp inhale to resist the urge to laugh again. “Otherwise I really have no idea.”
“Ah, so you do know! Old Love? By… hm… Putri Dahlia and Yuji. Okay. Old Love. Old Love!” He nods before standing up abruptly. “You’re the best, you know that? Thank you!”
“You’re welcome.” It’s the calmest your voice has sounded in the last two minutes. “Don’t scare other people on your way out.”
He gives you an eager nod before leaving, and you slip your headphones back on. He never even gave you his name, did he? You’re also not entirely certain if he would be taking your advice, but at least this time it wouldn’t be you getting jumpscar—
“Hey!” You almost spit out your food. “No way. I scared you again? You scare pretty easily, huh?”
This time, it’s his turn to start laughing, and you note that this is the third time he’s forgotten about your headphones in the span of fifteen minutes. Not that telling him again would help.
“This is for you. I almost forgot.” He drops a folded piece of paper into your hands. “My number! Oh- you can call me Umemiya.”
He points to the paper. “So you can help me find more songs. I’ll text you the lyrics this time.”
So now he’s expecting you to know what he’s singing over text too. It sounds impossible, but it wouldn’t hurt to try. It’s not like it you would get jumpscared over text, anyway.
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Good things come in small packages Part 2
Part 1 | Part 2
Pairing: Mini Han x fem reader
Synopsis: One year ago you purchased a ‘miniature companion’ named Hannie. He’s the size of a Ken doll but alive and horny. But something unexpected happens on your one year anniversary.
Word count: approx 7.4 k
A/n: SURPRISE!!! I know I said this was being released approx next Monday, but.... I wrote it quicker than I expected. I want to thank you for your patience with this installment. There was a point there where I almost didn't have it in me to write it. But your words of encouragement helped spur me on.
I hope that you enjoy part two of this fic. There's a lot of emotions, sickly sweet moments, and a surprise character features too.
CW below the cut
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C/W: unprotected p in v sex, oral sex, rough sex, angst, brief themes of depression, fear of suicide (just a fleeting thought), size kink?
Previously:
"Hannie?" You whisper, lowering the lamp, letting it drop to the floor.
"Why is everything so small? Wait. Why am I naked? Noona, have you been playing with me in my sleep?" He looks up at you confused and worried. "Noona, why are you looking at me like that?"
His eyes land on his pajamas, torn to shreds next to him. He picks up the scrap of fabric that was his pajama top, and his eyes widen. "Why are my clothes so tiny?"
"Hannie," you take in the man before you, naked and taking up most of the bed. "You're big."
------------
Han just stares at you blankly. Then realization hits him, causing him to spring out of bed and look around the room frantically.
"Hannie?" You say again. "Hannie, look at me." You take a step closer to him and he finally looks at you. It's as though your gaze anchors him and he appears to calm down somewhat. His eyes soften and he looks at you like he's looking at you for the very first time, just as you are with him.
You already know he has an incredible physique. Broad shoulders, slim waist, toned muscles. But standing before you right now he’s breathtaking. But you don't love him for his body. You love him for his heart.
Standing fully naked in front of you, he seems less real than when he was small. How can this be happening? It's impossible. Right?
"Noona?" His eyes drop to where your gaze has fallen. Right on his cock, still semi hard from his morning wood. It's the most delicious thing you've ever seen. So much bigger than you expected too. You can't help but imagine all the things you want to do with it. You have imagined it plenty over the past year. How you want him to fill you up, or make you choke on it. How it tastes. How it feels in your mouth.
"Hey!" he covers himself with his hands. "I'm going through a crisis and you're staring at my dick!" He exasperates. He narrows his eyes. "Oh my God, Noona? You know what this means?" His eyes light up with excitement.
"I do, Han. Trust me, I know. But first we need to figure out what is going on. Why this has happened." You take another step towards him, closing the distance, and with shaking hands you reach out and touch his chest. You feel his heart pounding and it makes your heart beat faster too.
He's real.
"Do you think my wish has finally come true?" he whispers. "I wish it every night before I fall asleep. That I'd wake up and be human sized."
You look up to meet his gaze. His gorgeous big brown eyes. "I wish it every night too. It's just... this doesn’t make any sense.” You pause. “Wait. The manual. Maybe it says something in that?”
Without giving him any warning, you snap into action and disappear into your walk-in wardrobe, returning with a pair of sweatpants and an oversized tee.
"Here. Put these on. I can't be getting distracted." You say and hurry out of the bedroom.
----------
"I thought you said you'd studied the manual?" Han says suspiciously whilst chewing on the scrambled eggs and toast you quickly cooked for him. You were quite happy to forgo your breakfast so you could search for answers, but his stomach rumbled so loudly you couldn’t ignore it.
While he scoffs down his breakfast, and you're still in your pajamas, you pore over the instruction manual spread open on the dining table, looking for any information that might help.
"Well... I kind of only read about how to keep you alive. You know, like how often I needed to feed and water you." you reply casually. Inside, you wish you had read the rest of the information. Maybe you would have had a heads up about this and you could have prepared yourself?
"Do you think I'm going to be like this permanently? Like the first year was a test of your commitment or something? Maybe I could learn guitar? Or cook? Or-"
"Okay. I've got something." You interrupt. "It says here: At twelve months of ownership, your companion will transform into typical human size-"
Han's eyes light up excitedly. "Wait! So this means?"
You hold up your hand to hush him. "There's more." You say. "He will remain in this state for 48 hours, before returning to his original size."
“Oh.” Han’s fork clatters on his plate. You look up at him as his expression changes from excited and hopeful, to absolutely crestfallen and deflated.
"I'm so sorry, Hannie." you whisper. You know how badly he wants to be big. You watch as he swallows a lump in his throat, and without a word, he stands and walks into the kitchen to look out of the window above the sink.
————
Forty eight hours? So It's not permanent? What kind of fucking idiot is he to think he'd ever be able to be a human? He tries to fight back the tears as he looks out of the window.
It's a beautiful, sunny morning, and usually on a day like this he'd climb up onto the windowsill and watch the world. There's a little strip of shops across the street that he especially loves to watch. His favorite is the flower shop. Observing the customers going in and out buying flowers and bouquets for loved ones. They’re such pretty colors too, the flowers. He’d love to be able to buy flowers for you.
A lady about your age works there, and sometimes another man is there too. Han doesn’t see him there often, but knows he’s someone special the way the shop owner and him look at and hold each other. Maybe he travels for work? He's often wondered as he sits on the windowsill.
He's broken from his thoughts when he feels your arms wrap around his waist and you lean against his back. His eyes close softly, and his body relaxes as he savors the feeling of being embraced in this way for the first time.
"Hannie, I know we don't have long, but maybe if we see it as a gift?"
He turns in your arms to face you, and wraps his own arms around you. You feel so good like this. In his arms. Holding so much of you in one go. Feeling your entire body pressed against his. It's better than he ever imagined.
"You're right." He says finally. "We can't waste a minute of this precious time. There's so much I have to do to you." His dick twitches when he sees your cheeks flush. He knows you're not shy, but if you feel anything like he does right now, then you’d have to be trembling on the inside.
His hand slides up to hold your jaw tenderly as he brings his lips close to yours. Sure he's kissed you, parts of your lips - both sets even, and other parts of your skin. But your lips in their entirety? He feels so scared, so nervous. What if he's a shit kisser?
"Stop thinking, Han Jisung." You say and connect your lips to his.
His lips fit yours perfectly and he melts into them with a moan. He kisses you slowly and carefully and a warmth spreads throughout his body. He hardens immediately when he feels your tongue slip into his mouth to find his. Your tongue, the one that’s licked his entire torso in one sweep, is currently inside his mouth. 
He allows his hands to wander lower to cup your ass. He loves your ass and often stares at it when you're doing housework in your tight little exercise shorts. Another moan escapes him when he pulls you even closer against his body. Touching so many parts of you all at once has him feeling overwhelmed in the best way possible. What will it be like when he’s inside you as well? He has to know.
He lowers his hands a little more to lift you up and you wrap your legs around his. Then he’s carrying you - actually carrying you - to your bedroom.
Your room is still filled with the warm sunlight, and Han is glad because he’ll be able to see absolutely everything. He lays you gently on the bed and kisses you deeply, then sits up to kneel between your parted legs.
“I think these need to come off.” He announces, flicking the waistband of your pajama shorts.
You smirk. “You do, huh?”
“Yes. We need to be naked.” He starts tugging off your clothes, then his own.
You look stunning beneath him, and you feel the same way about him. The sunlight hits his honey skin perfectly and you feel a surge of love for the man above you.
This is actually happening, is the thought going through both your heads.
Han gulps as he drinks you in with his eyes. Where to begin? He decides to start with your breasts. Holding them in his hands, massaging them. He loves the pretty noises you’re making as he kneads them. He leans over to take a nipple in his mouth, flicking the tiny pebbled nub that he normally has to stretch his mouth around. It goes straight to his dick and he can’t help but grind his cock against your core. This is too much already. He sits back up between your legs to try and regain his composure. He doesn’t want the first time he has intercourse to be over before it begins. To bide some time, he slowly runs his hands down your stomach and massages the tops of your thighs while his eyes lock onto your pussy. Home.
His favorite thing in the world is to eat you out, and he’s excited to taste you. Firstly, though, he is dying to explore you with his fingers. He drags his thumbs through your folds. “Wet for me as usual, Noona.” He states, glancing up to see your flushed cheeks. He chuckles to himself knowing how flustered he’s making you.
“Hannie…always soaked for you.” You say with a breathlessness to your voice. 
He rubs circles on your clit with his thumb whilst using his other hand to spread you wide. 
“I need your fingers inside me, Hannie.” you wiggle your hips to give him the hint.
“Like this?” He asks innocently as he slips two fingers into you. You moan in relief, making him smirk again.You’re so tight just around his fingers that he can’t imagine how you are going to fit his cock. He partially withdraws his fingers then pushes them back into your warm, wet, cunt. He repeats this a few times, your moans and ‘yes’s urging him to go a little harder, a little deeper. He remembers watching you finger fuck yourself and that there’s a spot inside you that when you stimulate it makes you come. He needs to try it. 
He angles his fingers a little differently and fucks you with his hand. The response is immediate. Your pussy begins to make those lewd, but arousing sounds, that he has heard when you’ve made yourself cum on your dildo. Your back arches off the bed and your thighs start to tremble. He knows the signs of you having an orgasm. He’s made you come so many times. But not like this. He leans over you to slide his tongue into your mouth, capturing the moans from your orgasm while his fingers work you through it until you’ve settled back to earth. Stunning. Erotic. Perfect. That’s what you are to him right now.
Now he can eat you out. Lick up all that arousal leaking from your delectable pussy. He nestles between your legs, his agonizingly hard cock squashed between his stomach and the mattress. He knows it’s leaking all over your quilt.
Firmly holding your thighs apart, he licks a long stripe from your vagina to clit. You taste perfect. He is careful not to go too hard or too rough. When he’s tiny he needs to use all his energy and strength to get you off, but right now even the most delicate of licks or suckles has you whimpering for him.
He spits on your clit and then sucks it off. Then moves lower to slip his tongue inside you. He has to hold you still as another orgasm starts to build for you. He loves making you feel this way.
He needs to make you come again, so he slips a finger into your pussy while he laps at your clit. He feels you come on his face, shaking, quivering, covering him in your juices. Yep. Still his favorite thing to do.
He removes himself from between your legs to hover over you to take you in an urgent kiss, smearing your arousal all over your lips. His dick throbs.
“Hannie,” you pull away from the kiss. “I really need you inside me. I need it so much it hurts.” You look up at him with desperate eyes.
“Me too, Noona.” He gulps. He’s so fucking scared and hopes you don’t notice.
“Are you nervous?” You reach up and stroke his cheek. 
Of course you noticed it. You always know how he feels. He nods. “Yeah. I am actually. I am a virgin you know?” He chuckles awkwardly, like you didn’t know he’d never actually fucked before.
You wrap your arms around the back of his neck and pull him close. “It’s okay. I’ve got you. Just let it slip in. Dicks usually find a way into a pussy.” You whisper in his ear.
He trusts you and grinds the length of his cock against your slipper pussy. It’s already beyond incredible feeling your soft skin against his obscenely hard cock. You both moan equally in pleasure and the frustration of needing more, so he shifts his hips to allow the tip of his cock to prod at you. 
“Yes!” You cry out against his ear. “Fuck…Hannie…need you. It’s so close…” 
All it takes is a slight adjustment of the angle of his hips and he feels the tip slip inside you. 
“Please…hurry.” You sob. “I love you so much, Hannie.”
“I love you too, Noona.” he says with a shaky breath, and then he’s inside you. All the way to the hilt. You both moan in relief. 
“You’re so tight.” he declares, his eyes rolling back into his head. He’s not going to last even a thrust. It’s already too good. But he begins to move anyway, eventually finding a slow, deep rhythm.
He was wrong. This is his most favorite thing to do. Be buried in your pussy, with your arms and legs wrapped around him as you moan his name over and over. Definitely his favorite.
“Faster…please… harder…oh Hannie…fuck.” You claw at his back trying to pull him even deeper. He obliges, picking up the pace, fucking you harder. He kneels between your legs again so he can see all of you. The sight is erotic. Seeing all of you at once, with your legs folded and pushed up high and wide. Your breasts bouncing with every thrust. And the expression on your face as you look down at where you’re connected almost makes him fill you right then and there.
“I’m coming, Hannie… I’m…don’t stop! Come with me. Come inside me!” You’re already trembling beneath him, and there’s no way in hell he’d be able to stop himself coming inside you even if he wanted to. He’s about to burst. Not just his cock, but his heart too. He loves you too much. He takes his thumb back to your clit and focuses on bringing you over the edge. He feels your walls squeeze tight around him like a vice, and it sends him over as well. With a few last shaky thrusts, he releases himself inside of you with a deep moan.
“Noona… Fuck…” he pants and collapses on top of you. “That was the best feeling in the whole world. I don’t know how anyone gets anything done when they could be doing that!” 
—-----------
The day passes far too quickly as you fill the rest of the day with lovemaking, food, drinks, and even more lovemaking. You both don't want to miss a single moment of each other. Night comes too quickly, and despite trying your best to stay awake, sleep eventually takes you both as you lay in his arms.
-----------
The sun streams through the window waking you from your sleep. You feel Han's arm laying heavy across your waist. It wasn't a dream. Your eyes snap open to find him fast asleep, mouth open, and still very much human size.
You watch him until he finally stirs and opens his eyes. "Am I still big? Are we still naked?" He asks sleepily.
You grin in response. "Yes. You're still big. And we’re still naked. " You lean down and kiss his cheek.
"So we can have more sex today?" he adds, rubbing his eyes.
"Anything you want, my love." You say and let your hand wander down to rest on his erect cock. Flicking the sheet off of him, you begin to kiss your way down his body, savoring every inch of his skin, ensuring you remember this moment forever. You pause when you reach his cock, admiring the way it looks. Fucking perfect. Mouthwatering. You waste no time taking him in your hand and bringing your tongue to the underside of his shaft. 
He releases a sharp breath. “Fuck, Noona. Please…are you gonna suck me off? Please suck my cock, Noona.” he begs, lifting his head and looking down at you. You give him a sly look and swirl your tongue around the tip, and he throws his head back down onto the pillow, surrendering to you and your plans.
You take your time teasing him, alternating between kitten licks to the tip, to long languid strokes of your tongue along the shaft. His breathless pants turn to whimpers, then finally a deep, relieving groan as you sink your mouth over him. You take as much of him into your throat as you possibly can, and even though your eyes start to water, you take him even deeper.
“Baby, Noona…This is…your mouth… How can you even breathe right now?” He can barely get the words out. “So good… ngh…s’good.” he squeezes his eyes closed trying his hardest not to thrust into you. His hands thread through your hair and rest on the back of your head. You hope he pushes you down further so you take absolutely everything, and when he does, you feel your cunt tighten and your arousal leaking between your legs. 
Your lips are pressed to his pelvis and he isn’t letting you go. You are finding it hard to breathe, but you don’t care. You want more. You feel him getting close when his cock hardens even more and he starts thrusting into your throat. Yes. This is what you need. 
Han gets noisier as he approaches his climax, then you feel it. The familiar taste of his hot cum hits the back of your throat. He cries out then stills, releasing his hands from your head and relaxing into the bed.
As usual, you swallow every last drop. There is so much more compared to normal, the fluid coating the back of your mouth, then you make your way up to kiss his lips. 
Han grins at you with hooded eyes. “Fuck, Noona! That was so fucking goog.”
“You don’t know how many times I’ve pictured doing that for you, Hannie.” You smile and curl up to his side.
“Noona?” he says, stroking your arm.
“Mmm. Yes my love?” you hum.
“Do you think…after we fuck again, we can go out? There’s something I want to do.”
You turn your head to gaze at him. “Of course. Anything you want, my love.” you say again, but this time with a curious tone.
-----------
"Are you sure I don’t look weird?" Han isn't convinced that the sweatpants and tee you have given him are unisex.
"You're fine, I promise. Just trust me?" You reply, locking your front door.  You take his hand in yours and begin to up your front path. As you reach the sidewalk, he begins to have second thoughts. Sure he's been out of the house with you before. In your handbag, hidden away. Safe. Unseen. Maybe this isn't a good idea after all, he thinks to himself. Maybe he shouldn't have such lofty ideas? But he's not going to have another opportunity to do this. So he has to be brave.
“”What would you like to do, Hannie?” 
“There’s something I’ve thought about doing for a while now. Buy you flowers.” He gestures to the flower shop across from your home. 
Your eyes light up and a smile washes over your features. “I’d absolutely love that!” You squeeze his hand and look up at him. “I love you Hannie.” You say and kiss him on the lips.
“Noona, y-you can’t do that!” He stutters.
“Do what, sweetie?” You tease, and kiss him again. This time a little longer.
He pushes you away gently. “You’re getting me hard.” He whispers sternly and looks around to make sure no one can notice.
“Okay, Han. No public display of affection. Got it.” You pinch his chubby cheek.
The flower shop isn't very big, but it manages to accommodate so many flowers and bouquets that fill every corner and surface. Han takes in the floral scents, and the vibrancy of the colors, and smiles when his eyes land on what he's looking for.
"Can I help you with anything?" the shop owner asks cheerfully.
"Yes, can I please have the bouquet of purple tulips?" he says proudly.
The owner, who's name tag says 'Jules', takes the bouquet back to the counter to ring up the price. "That will be $60."
That's right. He has no money. He closes his eyes for a moment, berating himself. Of course he can't pay. He has no bank account. No identification. He's not a citizen of... anywhere really. He's an alien.
"That's okay, I've got it. He forgot his wallet today." You step in from out of nowhere and take care of paying for the flowers.
Ashamed by his inadequacy, Han steps away from the counter, and busies himself by looking at the corner with some potted houseplants. He quite likes the houseplants you own, often sitting underneath the leaves pretending to be somewhere outdoors. He chuckles to himself at how silly that sounds when movement behind one of the pot plants catches his eye.
Intrigued, he crouches down and ever so slowly nudges one of the plants to the side. His eyes widen and he almost stumbles backward when he sees a little man, the size of a Ken doll, looking up at him.
The same man that he’s seen kissing and holding Jules the shop owner multiple times.
Han blinks, not believing what he is seeing, but when he opens his eyes the little man is gone. Where did he go? Did he imagine it? He starts shifting plant pots around, desperately trying to find him.
"Hannie. I'm done now." you call to him from the shop entrance.
----------
"Hannie, what's wrong?" You ask as you both step outside onto the sidewalk. "Is it about paying for these?" You hold up the tulips.
"No, Noona. It's not that." He turns to look back at the shop.
"Han? You look like you've seen a ghost. Are you okay? Are you feeling okay?" You press your hand to his forehead. Sweaty and warm. Is he getting sick?
"I'm fine. Just... the forty eight hours are coming to an end tonight." He frowns.
You drop your head. You have been trying your best not to think about it. Today was so perfect, spending time with Han like a proper couple. It felt so heartwarming watching him with his big, curious eyes as he interacted with his surroundings.
You take a deep breath, inhaling the scent of the flowers. "What made you choose these?" you ask him curiously.
"Well," He starts, as you begin to walk back towards your home. "From what I read on the internet they are a symbol of perfect love." He smiles sheepishly. "It also said that they symbolize rebirth, as well as being known to help us let go of the past and embrace the future with renewed optimism and hope." he adds, proud to have remembered the details he'd read.
"I think that sounds perfect." You smile warmly and kiss him on the cheek.
---------------
Dinner is a quiet affair. The quietest it’s ever been. Usually at dinner time you share your day with each other, listening intently, offering advice or support, or whatever each of you needed that night. Tonight you’re both thinking about the same thing. That your time together like this is coming to an end. Neither of you want to talk about the elephant in the room, so you both stay silent. 
After a while you see Han set his knife and fork on his plate and stand up, walking around to your side of the table. You look up at him and he offers his hand out to you. Wordlessy, you take it and let him lead you to your bedroom.
He’s not gentle as he pushes you down onto the mattress and practically rips your clothes off before climbing on top of you and taking you in a rough, heated kiss. He shoves his tongue past your lips and you thread your fingers through his hair to pull him into an even deeper, even more feral kiss. He pulls away only to remove his own garments, then he forces your legs apart so he can line his cock up to your entrance. 
Without any preparation, or warning, he pushes the entire length of his cock into you in one go. You cry out at the intrusion, but part your legs further. You need him inside you, to consume you.
He’s careless with his thrusts, and his hands grope and squeeze, bruising your flesh. There’s a look of anger and resentment in his eyes. You know it’s not because of you, but at this whole situation. It feels so unfair to have a glimpse of how life could be, and know that it’s never going to be like this again. You love Hannie no matter what. But this feels so good too. Why? Why let you experience this, only to have torn away so quickly?
“Are you gonna remember me like this forever, Noona? How full I make you? How deep inside you I am? How hard I can fuck you?” He growls. “Tell me. Tell me you’ll never forget it. Cos I’m never going to forget how your pussy feels around me. Squeezing me tight. Tell me I’m your favorite. Tell me I feel better than anyone before me.” 
Han’s words are aggressive, and so is the way he’s fucking you. But his voice is full of heartbreak and angst. You want him to give you everything. His sadness, his anger, you want him to take it out on you. 
He thrusts his hips even harder against your body, and his cock slams into your cervix, causing you to cry out his name.
“Hannie!” You choke. He doesn’t slow down or go easy on you. You can barely breathe. 
“Say it… please…Tell me your mine.” he sobs, but he doesn’t slow down.
“I’m yours, Hannie…forever.” you whimper.
He leans down over you, caging you underneath him. “Come for me. Come on my cock.” He growls, his hot breath against your ear. “I wanna feel your pussy choke me one last time.”
It’s too much and you come hard around him, sobbing against his shoulder.
“That’s it…Yes…Fuck! I’m coming too!” He grunts as he thrusts his hips a few more times and empties himself inside you.
You stay like this for a while. Breathless and sweating. Eventually, he lifts his head and looks down on you. “Did I hurt you?” He asks with a concerned expression.
You shake your head. “It was passionate. I needed you to fuck me like that.” You sigh. He closes his eyes softly in relief, then withdraws his softened cock from you. 
Neither of you move to clean up, or even get a drink, or even say another word. You simply lay in the comfort of each other’s arms as though the world was about to end.
---------
You fall asleep first, but Han can't sleep. He doesn't want to sleep. So he watches you sleep instead. He cups your cheek. He needs to burn the image of this into his brain, for tomorrow his hand will barely be able to wrap around your pinky finger. These past forty eight hours were a dream come true, but he’s not sure how he’ll get over it either. 
-------------
You wake to find your bed empty. "Han?" You call out and search the bed, lifting the blankets. Sometimes he ends up tangled in them, but he isn't there.
You hop out of bed, slip on your robe and head out into the kitchen. You find him sitting on the windowsill above the sink. Small as ever. You feel a sadness in your chest and bite your lip as you approach him. "Hannie?" You say softly, leaning your arms on the counter next to the sink so your face is close to him.
"I'm okay Noona." he sighs, but doesn't turn to face you.
"You want me to fix you some breakfast before I go to work?" You ask hopefully, but he shakes his head.
The usual conversation that you have when you get ready for work is replaced with a heavy, awkward silence.
"You know, Hannie, you are perfect to me no matter what. Your personality, your heart - it’s bigger than that of any man in the world.” You say as you turn to leave the kitchen and head out the front door for work.
--------------
Han hasn’t left the windowsill in days. He hasn’t washed, he's barely eaten. The spark you love so much in him has dimmed, and you’re frightened that it won't come back. It's not like you can get him therapy. No one knows about him. No one can know about him.
Every day you leave for work not knowing what you'll find when you return home. What if he’s left? What if he's-" No you won't let yourself even go there.
Those forty eight hours of him being big was not worth it, and if you could take it back and go back to how things were before, you'd do it in a heartbeat. You just want your Hannie back.
--------------
Han knows you love him. But he can't help but feel depressed. He feels worse now than he has ever felt in his entire, albeit short, life. It's like him becoming big was some sick, cruel joke. Like it was to taunt him. To show him how good it could really be, how good it could really feel, to be a human, just to snatch it away from him.
It isn't just depression that's consuming him. It's an obsession with the flower shop and that little man he had seen that day.
For ten days now he’s stared at the shop hoping to catch a glimpse of...something... anything that might give him answers or closure. They know something. He can feel it.
Then finally it happens. Han hurries to a kneeling position, face pressed against the glass to catch a better look.
The man is back. As a human sized man. Han guesses he's seen this man maybe four times over as many months. He stands in the doorway waving to a customer before going back into the shop. It definitely looks like the little guy he saw standing by the pot plant.
You probably imagined it. You were probably over excited from the sex with Noona. Can sex make you hallucinate? Han isn't sure of anything anymore. Except that the miniature man was either imaginary, or, he has the answers Han's looking for.
-------------------
You leave work early and pick up a cheesecake. Han hasn’t eaten in days and you hope his favorite dessert might perk him up a little bit, even if it’s just a sugar rush.
You open your front door kicking your shoes off, and make your way upstairs to your main living area. The house is eerily quiet, even with a depressed Han it's too quiet. Something is off. Something is wrong.
“Hannie?” You call out. No answer. You place the cheesecake box on the counter. He’s not on his windowsill. Maybe he’s asleep somewhere? You check your bedroom next. He isn’t there either. You search every room, calling out his name.
Nothing.
He’s gone. He’s actually gone! Why? Why would he leave? Where would he go? What if he’s hurt? What if he’s - you gulp. You start to panic and begin to check everywhere again. Maybe he fell into a drawer? Maybe he’s stuck somewhere?
Again, nothing.
He really was gone.
—-----------
Han has never ventured out of the house by himself before. Well this month has been full of firsts, he thinks. Why not climb down the stairs and sneak out of a slightly ajar window?
He jumps down from the window sill and tumbles into the garden, surprisingly unscathed. He is on a mission and nothing is going to stop him.
Determination takes over any fear of being eaten by the neighbors cat, or being runover by a car, as he carefully treks across the road to the flower shop.
He hasn't even planned what he’s going to say. What if he's mistaken and the owner faints? What if she kills him? Or kidnaps him? Tortures him? No. He shakes his head. The lady was really nice the other day. People love to go to her shop. It'll be fine.
By the time Han reaches the threshold he is hot, sweaty and very thirsty. He looks up to looming doorway and swallows hard. Here goes nothing.
He slips inside, carefully seeking the cover of a nearby flower pot. The shop looks gigantic compared to last time he was there.
He notices something that he missed the last time. That the entire shop is set up suspiciously accessible for him. Like it was made for someone his size. Strings from buntings and signs dangle in such a way that Han would be able to reach just about any shelf he wished. Some shelves look to have mini rope ladders, and there seems to be plenty of places to hide and watch customers, or your Noona.
He quickly climbs up one of the rope ladders where he can get a better view of the sales counter. Jules is there finishing serving a customer. But where is the man?
Han doesn’t have to wait for long. The man emerges from a back storeroom with a gift bag for the customer.
“Oh Minho! You’re back in town!” The customer exclaims in a high pitch voice. “How was your work trip?” She gives this Minho a kiss on the cheek.
“Adventurous as usual.” He winks at her.
“Well it’s good to see you.” She takes her flowers and gift bag, smiling as she leaves the shop.
“Take care Mrs Maple!” Minho waves after her then turns to Jules. “Finally, I’ve got you alone, kitten.” He smirks and closes the gap between them. “Maybe we could close up for lunch? Head back into the storeroom?” He kisses her neck.
“You’re always so horny, Minho.” She teases. “Don’t think I don’t know you masturbate behind the flower pot while I work.”
Wait! What? Han’s eyes almost pop out of his head and he stumbles knocking an ornamental garden gnome off the shelf.
Jules and Minho’s eyes land on the smashed gnome. Then they lift their gaze, eyes landing straight on Han.
Fuck! He freezes to the spot.
The pair look confused and make their way over to where Han is standing pretending to be gnome himself, and crouch down so they are eye level with him.
“It’s the customer from the other day.” Jules remarks. “He didn’t have any money.” She adds.
Han crosses his arm and pouts.
“He’s the one I told you about. The one that saw me on the shelf.” Minho adds.
“Excuse me?” Han interrupts. “I was hoping you could help me. You see, I live across the street with my Noona. She was the woman I was with when I came in the other day. And…anyway… I sit in the window sill and watch the flower shop. Not in a creepy way.” He is sure to add. “And I’ve seen him…Minho, or whatever your name is,” he points to the man “a few times… Then when I came in, he… he was small.”
“And you were big.” Minhos’s eyes glisten and he rubs his chin deviously. “And now you’re small!”
“Exactly! And I need to know… are you one of those miniature companions like me? And if so, why do you keep getting big? And… and is it the same for all of us? Is it different depending on the batch? Do some of us get big and others don’t?” Han’s out of breath by the time he’s finished.
“What’s your name?” Jules asks kindly.
“Han.” He replies and plops down, crossing his legs.
“Han?” She repeats thoughtfully.
“Do you recognise the name, babe?” Minho enquires.
Jules nods. “Yes. I believe he was also part of the range I purchased you from. The Skz range. I don’t think he was ready yet. How long have you been with your owner?”
“Just on a year.” He replies.
Jules and Minho exchange looks, then turn back to Han.
“Well, Han, buddy,” he says. “I think we might be able to answer your questions.”
—-----------
Eventually, after tearing your house apart in the hopes to find Han and failing, you flop yourself on your couch feeling empty and numb. You don’t even notice that your doorbell is ringing, but then a loud knock on the door makes you almost jump out of your skin.
“Yeah okay, I’m coming!” You call out as you head downstairs. With a sigh, you open the front door to find the woman who owns the flower shop across the street, and a man who you’ve seen a few times around the place, standing there. The woman holds a basket in her hands, and the man holds an amused look on his face.
Great. You’re not in the mood for interaction.
The woman’s eyes widen when she sees your tear streaked face.
“Uh, sorry to bother you. I’m Jules. From the flower shop across the street.” She smiles awkwardly. “And this is my, um, partner, Minho.” She gestures to the man next to her.
You continue to stand there, saying nothing.
Jules coughs, clearing her throat. “We’ve brought your Hannie home.” She declares.
“Noona!” Han’s head pops out of the basket.
Your hand comes up to cover your mouth. “Why do you have my Han?” You choke. Your eyes dart from Jules to Minho, confused and scared. Han is supposed to be a secret. You can’t have outsiders knowing about him.
“I went to them, Noona. They have something to tell you! Can’t you let us inside already?” He whines.
A whining Han is a good sign. You nod and usher them inside.
————-
You’re back on your couch, this time with Jules and Minho on the couch across from you, and your little Hannie on the cushion next to you. You’re relieved he’s back, but also so mad at his reckless behavior. He could’ve gotten himself killed. He and Minho are enjoying a piece of cheesecake, like this is some normal afternoon gathering of friends.
“So you have something to tell me?” You say looking to Jules.
“We do. You see, Han came to us because he saw my miniature companion in the flower shop the day you both came in.” She starts.
Your eyes widen. “You know about them? You’ve got one?”
Jules nods. “Yes. Minho here is my companion.”
“Hi.” He waves.
“He’s your companion?” You arch an eyebrow.
“Yes, he’s got his monthly grown up pants on at the moment, but most of the time he’s small like Han.” She nods her head towards Han.
You shake your head in disbelief. “One minute Han is doll sized, then suddenly out of nowhere he’s big.”
“She really didn’t read the manual, hey Han?” Minho chuckles.
“Then I find out there’s another tiny man running around across the street?” You continue, ignoring Minho’s remark.
“Hey, I’m far from tiny!” Minho turns to you with a deadly glare.
“Calm down sweetie.” Jules pats his thigh. “He’s not really cold and cynical.” She reassures you.
“He’s cocky isn’t he?” You say lightheartedly to Jules but your eyes are firmly on Minho. “You know you were able to read their traits on the website and select accordingly?” You say jokingly.
“That’s why she chose me. For my cock-iness.” Minho leans back into the couch.
“He was the only one who was cat friendly. I have three cats, you see.” Jules playfully punches Minho in the arm.
“Hah! You love my cock-y personality.”
“I do.” Jules admits and leans against him.
The pair are fascinating, but you need to know more. “What did you mean by monthly grown up pants?” You ask.
“Once a month I grow into the size of a human for two days.” Minho shares. “It’s a fault in the Skz manufacturing process.”
“You didn’t receive the recall email from the company?” Jules turns back to you surprised.
You shake your head.
“There was a form in the back of...the manual...that you could send in so you’d receive any important information. Like recalls and such.”
“Noona only read up to the part where it says I can ejaculate.” Han pipes up, his mouth full of food.
“Hannie! Don’t, you’re embarrassing me. Sorry, he hasn’t been socialized.” You say bashfully.
“I think these two will become best friends.” Jules laughs looking at the two men. “Han did say this whole human size situation came as a surprise to you both.”
“I feel so stupid. I didn’t read the whole manual.  I’m such an irresponsible companion owner.” 
“There was a recall on the Skz range because they were only supposed to grow big the once, not once every month. Purchasers were given the option to return the companion if they chose.”
“And she chose to keep me.” Minho adds.
“Would you have sent me back, Noona? If you’d known about the recall?” Han looks up at you with his boba eyes.
“Of course not. I love you. I just wish I’d known all this so we could have been prepared. Looked forward to it, even.”
“It’s okay, Noona. I think it has worked out for the best this way.” He looks at each of you. “I’ve finally got friends!” He says gleefully.
Jules and Minho leave shortly after, to have some alone time before his “grown up pants become too big”.
Han is exhausted from his adventure, and just wants to snuggle up on your chest and watch anime. Neither of you say much. There's no point in being angry at him for venturing out alone, and you're just happy to have him back in one piece.
Neither of you are really watching the anime either. Instead you're both smiling inwardly, imagining what life is going to look like from now on.
—————-
A little update on our y/n and Hannie:
Over the next year, Han and Minho have become inseparable, spending almost as much time with each other as they do with you and Jules.
You’ve introduced Han to your family. He was so nervous at first, but once he realized they approved of him, he was okay.
He learned to play guitar, and even commissioned a guitar maker to make a scaled down working model of an acoustic guitar so he can play whenever he feels like it.
------------
A/N: I hope you enjoyed this little fic. I loved writing it, even though it took me so long to have the energy to put the ideas into words. Thank you so much for reading. Your support encourages me to keep writing.
If you enjoy the more plot driven, lovey dovey fics, I have a few others on my main blog @moonlightndaydreams and I think I will probably cross post this fic as a oneshot over there to keep all my longer Hannie fics together.
Sorsha x.
----------------
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krirebr · 17 hours
Text
Luck Be a Lady
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Pairing: soft!dark Curtis Everett x female reader
Word Count: ~10.1k
Summary: Desperate for money, you accept a job as a cocktail waitress at an underground casino. You think you know what you're doing, but when you meet Curtis, will you realize you're in over your head?
Warnings: Mob AU, violence, allusions to murder, explicit language, dubcon touching, noncon touching (not Curtis), willfully oblivious reader, SMUT - facefucking, dirty talk, light d/s dynamics, praise kink, other explicit sexual content. This is definitely on the darker end of the soft!dark spectrum, so proceed with caution! All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI
Dividers by @thecutestgrotto
Masterlist
A/N: And here it finally is! This is my first real attempt at soft!dark. I hope I did it right! 😂
This was inspired by two things: 1) me going to a rep screening of Goodfellas and spending the entire time wondering why I hadn't done a mob au yet and 2) @bigtreefest saying "enforcer!Curtis Everett and mob boss!Andy Barber" in my general direction. Thanks for the inspo, friend!!
And big thanks as always to @paperweight91 who not only came up with Curtis's name for reader but also offered heaps of encouragement and was a great sounding board. And thanks to @stargazingfangirl18 for helping me figure out how exactly we'd get to the smut. Thanks Siri!
Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. Please come scream at me about this! 😄 As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜
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You fruitlessly tug down your very short skirt as Holly talks at you. You’re both standing in the corner of the bar’s basement waiting for the night to start in earnest—your first night.
“Lloyd’s not so bad,” she says of your boss, the man who runs this little underground gambling ring. “You’ll have to split your tips with him at the end of the night, but he doesn’t take that much, and you’ll make enough that you won’t really notice. As long as you do that, he’ll mostly keep his hands to himself.”
You nod along, glancing at the mustachioed man conferring with the bouncer at the door. The interview process for this job had boiled down to a thorough once-over that’d made you feel naked in your jeans and t-shirt and a “You’re not too stupid to take a drink order, are you?” and then you had the job.
Holly had vouched for you. Neighbors for almost half a year, she’d come home early one morning last week and witnessed you trying to convince the landlord that you were good for your past-due rent. She’d taken you for coffee and told you she might be able to help if you were good at keeping your head down and mouth shut. And now you were here.
“The customers, on the other hand,” she continues, smacking her gum, “you’ll have to let them touch, at least a little bit. Within reason, you know? But if anything gets out of hand, you can just tell Jake at the door and he’ll take care of it.”
“Within reason?” you ask, voice shaking, just the littlest bit, as the pit that started forming in your stomach when you agreed to this grows a little more.
The look she gives you verges on exasperated. “Well, you want to make money, don’t you?”
Yes, you do. Very much so. It’s a need, not a want. So you nod and try to listen as she keeps giving you the rundown. 
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Before you’re ready, the first patrons start trickling in and then you’re off to the races. It’s not too bad. No one’s orders are too complicated, mostly just bottles of beer and glasses of straight whiskey. The bartender, Colin, is friendly enough, although you learn that he’s another person you’ll need to split your tips with. 
As for the touching, there are hands on your hips, pats to your ass. But you’re rewarded with folded-up bills held up between fingers or tucked into the strap of your top. Or, twice, slid behind the waistband of your skirt. Once you realize that the majority of these bills aren’t ones or fives, but twenties, you care about the touching that comes with them much less. Plus, you’re too busy to really think about it that hard. 
You can’t believe how busy it is for a random Tuesday night, multiple games of poker, craps, and who knows what else all going at once. But when you mention that to Holly, she just laughs and shakes her head. “This is nothing,” she says. “On the weekends there’ll be three more of us and another one of Jake. Things get wild.” 
You don’t have time to decide whether that makes you nervous or excited before someone is signaling for your attention again. You manage to suppress your grimace when he slides his arm around your waist to tell you what he needs from the bar. You’re rewarded for your troubles by a wad of twenties. You aren’t sure who these men are to tip so freely, but you know better than to look a gift horse in the mouth.
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It’s an hour or two later that Lloyd calls you over to where he’s speaking to a large, impossibly broad man, dressed in a soft-looking henley under a leather jacket with dark jeans. There’s dark ink all over his hands that disappears up his sleeves and reappears on his neck in intricate lines. He’s got close-cropped hair and a full beard that’s neatly trimmed. His deep blue eyes drill into you right away and you do your best not to shiver.
“Got a new girl tonight, Everett. Still learning the ropes, but she’ll take good care of you, won’t you, Cupcake?” 
“Yes, of course,” you say, before Lloyd wanders off to check on one of the poker games.
The man, Everett, lets his eyes rove over you. “Cupcake, huh?” His voice is deep, gritty, but there's something there that's much gentler than you expected.
You give him what you hope is a coy smile. “Sure. If you want.” Lloyd was treating him like he's important. You hope important means deep pockets.
He hits you with a penetrative stare, so strong you almost have to take a step back. “No,” he finally says. “I don't think so. I'll find something more fitting.” Then he turns and starts to walk away, before calling over his shoulder. “I'm gonna get dealt in. Bring me a whiskey once I'm settled.”
You watch him go for just a moment, and then head to the bar, asking for a whiskey. 
“This for Everett?” the bartender, Colin, asks. When you nod, he grabs a fancy bottle off the top shelf. “This is all he drinks. And he doesn't pay for it, alright? Don't ever think about giving him a bill.” 
You look back at the man in question, seriously looking at the cards he’s just been dealt. Who is he???
You collect his whiskey and move back to him. As you set it down, he turns to you. “How about this?” he asks as he holds up a crisply folded hundred-dollar bill between two fingers. Your eyes widen at the money. All you’ve done is bring him one straight pour. “There’s another one of these in it for you if you make sure I never see the bottom of this glass tonight. Sound good?” And then he folds the bill one more time in his thick fingers, before sliding it under the low-cut neckline of your blouse. Your skin tingles where he brushes against it.
“Yeah, you got it,” you just breathe out, a little shocked you’re able to form words. He gives you a smug smile that you can only describe as shark-like before turning back to his cards, and you understand it as the dismissal that it is. 
You move around the room, collecting empties, getting refills, trying to goodnaturedly accept unsolicited touches. The whole time you feel eyes on you, but whenever you glance Everett’s way, he’s focused on his poker game.
Eventually, a down moment finds you catching your breath against the wall. The moment Holly sees you standing still, she’s quickly making her way to you. “You need to be more careful around Curtis,” she hisses, lowly.
You look at her, confused. “Curtis?” Jake’s at the door. Colin’s behind the bar. You don’t know a Curtis.
“Curtis Everett!” You glance at the man at the poker table. He’s running a poker chip across his knuckles mindlessly. Then he looks up and you briefly make eye contact before you quickly look away. Holly is staring at you and she looks worried. But the name still doesn’t mean anything to you, so you shake your head and shrug. She groans as quietly as she can. “He’s Barber’s top enforcer!”
This whole conversation feels so out of the blue that it takes you a minute to catch up. Barber. Andrew Barber. The most feared mob boss in the city. Probably the state. Maybe even more. Ruthless and exacting was how the papers described him. He’d been the subject of multiple stings and taskforces and whathaveyou but nothing ever stuck. “He works for Andrew Barber?” you ask, shocked and a little appalled.
Holly stares at you in a way that you can only describe as dumbfounded. It takes her a few moments to find her words, then, “Bitch, you work for Andrew Barber!”
Everything stops. “What?” you gasp.
“Oh my god,” Holly groans. “This was such a mistake. It’s an underground card game in his city! Who did you think was running things?”
“I– I don’t know,” you stutter, stupidly. The god’s honest truth is that you’d never really stopped to think about it. You’d been staring down an eviction, struggling to afford groceries. Unable to make ends meet no matter what you did. When Holly told you about this job, all you saw were dollar signs. You didn't think about anything further. Of course, you’d known these games were illegal, but it seemed so minor in the grand scheme of things. You hadn’t connected it to anything bigger because you just hadn’t wanted to.
But now– Now that you know the truth, what are you going to do? You know what you should do. You should walk out the door right now. You should find some other legitimate way to pay your bills. It’ll be safer. It’ll be better. It’ll be so much harder.
As you bite your lip, trying to process all of this information, Holly continues. “Listen,” she says, “still get him drinks, be friendly, whatever you need to do. But keep your distance however you can. Don't encourage him. He's just– He's really dangerous. They don't call him Barber’s attack dog for nothing, ok?”
“Yeah,” you say. You start to look back in Curtis’s direction but stop yourself. You think about the hundred you already have and the one promised to you at the end of the night. You think of how empty your pantry is. But then you see the genuine fear in Holly's eyes. You let out a shaky breath. “Yeah. I got it. Thanks.”
“He doesn't even come in here that often. I'm surprised to see him tonight, so I'm sure it’ll be fine,” she says, but you can tell she’s nervous.
You nod, absently, finally letting yourself glance over at him. His drink is getting close to the bottom. “Shit,” you mumble. “I gotta get him his refill.”
“Do you want me to do it?” Holly asks. 
You should let her do it. You absolutely should. But you just can’t give up on that tip. You shake your head. “No, I’ll be fine. But thanks.”
You head back to the bar and grab Curtis’s top-shelf whiskey of choice from Colin, then make your way to his table. You set it down next to him, hoping to move away without him even noticing, he’s so engrossed in the game. But as you take a step back, his hand shoots out to grab your wrist. He holds it tightly until you meet his eyes. “Good girl,” he murmurs, and you can’t help the sharp intake of breath or the way you feel his words in your knees. He strokes his thumb down the inside of your wrist, then abruptly lets go, pushing his chips to the middle of the table. You step away, gathering yourself as subtly as you can, and get back to work.
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The rest of the night goes quickly. The crowd gets a little rowdier as they drink more, but you find that it’s nothing you can’t handle. The reality of who these people are, what they’re connected to, never leaves your mind. But really, they’re not so bad. None of this feels so bad at all. And soon, people start heading out. You’re beginning to clean up, when a recognizable voice rings out, “Bambi!” You turn and lock eyes with Curtis. He crooks two fingers at you and you quickly make your way over to him.
“Bambi?” you ask.
He grins at you and it feels more than a little predatory. You’ll never admit how much you like it. You try to keep Holly’s warning at the forefront of your mind. “Wide eyes and just getting your legs under you,” he says. You instinctively duck your head at that, which earns a dark chuckle. “Here,” he continues, as he pulls a genuine, fat money clip out of his back pocket. You’ve never seen something like it in real life before. He peels off two bills and holds them out to you. “This is what good girls get,” he says, a low rumble in his voice.
You swallow as you take them from him. Two hundred dollars. Twice what you were expecting. “Thank you,” you say quietly. 
He shakes his head. “You earned it.” Then, after one last long look at you, he turns around and leaves.
You stand and stare after him. You don’t doubt anything Holly said, but three hundred dollars, just for bringing him drinks. He doesn’t seem that bad, not really. A little intense maybe, but there’s some sort of interest there, and it can’t be that bad to encourage it, just a little if it earns you these sorts of tips, can it??
Any hesitance you have about this entire endeavor completely disappears as you count your money at the end of the night.
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Your first week flies by. You're starting to get the hang of the job. You get along with your coworkers. You get to know the regulars. You like it. Even Lloyd isn’t so bad as long as you give him his cut at the end of every night.
And you’re making so much money.
In your downtime, you pay your landlord what you owe him. You go grocery shopping without scouring for coupons first or calculating exactly what you can afford beforehand. You make a Pinterest board of what you want your apartment to look like now that you might actually be able to buy things to fill it. For the very first time, you’re thinking about things you actually want, not just desperately trying to figure out how you’ll pay your bills. You’ve never felt this calm, this relaxed, this free before. It’s an incredible feeling.
And Curtis. Despite Holly’s reassurances that you wouldn’t see him much, he seems to be there whenever you are, trying to capitalize on his winning streak at the poker tables, you assume. His tips are still insanely generous. You don’t think he carries anything less than hundred dollar bills. 
And there’s just something about him. The way he looks at you. The way he touches you. It’s not like the other men here. His touch is like fire, warming from the inside. There’ve been times when his hand on your hip has almost made your knees buckle. That doesn’t happen with anyone else here.
But you’re being smart and you’re being safe. You are. You’re going to set a savings goal, you think. And once you hit that number, you’ll be out of here, onto something more legitimate. And until then, you’ll just keep your head down and mouth shut, like Holly said. You haven’t even really seen anything. It’s a good plan. It’ll be fine.
She’s right that the weekends are wilder. Even with three additional girls working the room, you’re kept running. You do your best to keep an eye on Curtis’s drinks, but it’s much harder than on weeknights. And you aren’t really able to pause when you drop them off. It’s one of these times, as you’re pulling away from the table as soon as you’ve set his glass down, that you’re stopped short by his hand on you. He pulls you back in by the wrist and says, “They’re just running you ragged tonight, huh, Bambi?”
You smile and shrug. “It’s busy.”
He holds out a bill and you try not to smile even wider as he slips it into the waistband of your skirt. “For all your hard work.”
You bat your lashes a little. “You spoil me.”
“I like spoiling you,” he says, lowly. 
“You’re too sweet,” you say softly. Then, pulling your arm away with a wink, you add, “Gotta run,” and you’re onto the next table.
You’re getting good at this, figuring out what level of harmless flirting is just enough to keep the money flowing. And you’re having fun. You’d never expected that.
Holly and two of the other girls, Jane and Kristi, are congregated at the end of the bar, waiting for drinks, when you join them. They’re all watching you warily. “So, uh,” Jane starts quietly, “you seem to be getting pretty cozy with Curtis.” 
Before you can respond, Holly scoffs behind her. “I’ve tried to warn her but she won’t fucking listen.”
You roll your eyes. You’re tired of hearing this. “I seriously don’t get what the big deal is. He’s nice and he tips well. It’s harmless!”
Kristi just gapes at you. “He’s nice?!”
Holly slams the drinks she was waiting for onto her tray. “Whatever,” she grumbles. “It’s her fucking funeral.”
You shake your head as you watch her go. It’s fine. You can take care of yourself.
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The rest of the night goes by in a blur. You don’t get much of a chance to talk to Curtis, but you feel his eyes on you before he disappears a little before closing.
At the end of the night, once you’ve helped clean up, you cash out with Colin and Jake and then go to find Lloyd in his office. You think it’s kind of ridiculous that you’re basically paying him to work there, but it is what it is. And Holly was right, you’re making so much that you barely even notice. 
Lloyd is sitting at his desk, looking a little more disheveled than you’re used to. He startles at your approach, which is also new. 
“Oh, hey,” he says, with slightly rounded eyes. “What can I do for you?”
You look at him, a little confused. “Just here with your cut,” you say as you hold out his money.
His hands immediately fly up to his chest, palms out. “No, no,” he says. “You made that fair and square. You just– you keep what you make from now on, Cupcake. Sound good?”
You swallow and nod, preparing yourself for whatever other price you’ll have to pay for keeping your job, mentally calculating what you’re willing to do. But Lloyd doesn’t do anything, doesn’t make any move to get closer to you. Just stays there at his desk, turning back to his work. “You have a good night,” he says, clearly dismissing you. 
You leave confused, but richer, telling yourself not to question it too hard.
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Things go so smoothly for a few weeks that you’re a little shocked when the bubble bursts. 
It’s a relatively quiet weeknight. There are a few games going, but nothing compared to the weekend. The pace of the night feels leisurely. It’s nice.
It’s maybe the first night you haven’t seen Curtis there. It feels weird. He’s become such a part of this place for you. A fixture, like the bar or the carpet. Just one of the elements that make it what it is. But it’s fine. Of course, he doesn’t come every night. He probably has a whole life outside of this. He must’ve gotten bored of playing cards. Oh well. It was nice while it lasted.
You’re passing the time talking to one of the regulars at the bar, Vinny. He’s in his fifties, you think, with gray hair and laugh lines. He’d gone bust at the poker table (or maybe it was craps tonight) earlier and then had moved to the bar to drink away his sorrows and bad luck. That was how his nights tended to go.
He’s sitting on a barstool, his arm around your waist where you stand next to him. He’s a little close for comfort, but he’s always just been a friendly guy, so you’re alright. Which is why you’re so surprised when, in the middle of a story about the good old days of the Copa Cabana, his other hand suddenly finds its way between your thighs. You freeze. For just a second. Then you force out a laugh and try to push his hand away. “Bad boy,” you try to tease, your voice shaking. His hand will not move. What is happening? “Come on, let’s keep our hands to ourselves.”
Instead of doing what you’ve asked, his thumb briefly brushes the inside of your leg and then his whole hand begins moving higher. You stop breathing. You push again but he won’t budge.
“You’re such a pretty doll, aren’tcha?” he says. 
Tears start to gather in your eyes. You look around wildly to see if anyone’s noticing what’s happening. Colin’s busy making drinks. Jake and Lloyd are talking by the door. Everyone else is engrossed in their own business. “Vinnie, stop, please,” you whisper. You don’t know why you can’t get your voice to work, can’t get your body to move.
“Come on,” he cajoles, “I’m being nice, aren’t I?” 
Then his thumb brushes against your panties and your entire body jolts into action. You wrench your leg out of his grasp and take several steps away from him. Your whole body is shaking now. “I gotta–” you start, trying to keep your tone casual and failing miserably. “I gotta get back to work, Vinny.” Then you grab your tray off the bartop and walk away as fast as you can.
You don’t really have a destination in mind. You pick up a few empties as you wander between tables. You can feel his eyes on you, following you. You try to take a deep breath, calm yourself down. It isn’t very helpful. You look up to see Jake by himself now. You make your way over to him, Holly’s words on your first night in your ears. That was out of hand, wasn’t it?
He looks up as you approach. His big golden retriever smile on his face. “Hey, what’s up?” Then he actually takes you in and his smile drops. “What happened?”
“Um, Vinny, he, uh–” You feel a few tears fall down your cheeks and you just shake your head.
Jake’s face darkens. “Did he hurt you?” 
“No, uh, he– he just–” You shake your head again. “No, he didn’t hurt me.”
Jake doesn’t say anything for a moment, just looks at you. There’s something about the way he does it that makes you think he understands everything you just can’t say. He nods once. “Alright. I’ll take care of it. You go take your time in the back. Do what you need to do. He’ll be gone by the time you’re done.”
You let out a shaky breath. “Okay, thank you,” you say so quietly. Then you get yourself to the back room as quickly as you can.
It’s really more of a hallway than a room, small and narrow. All of the storage space for the building is in the legitimate bar upstairs. But there’s enough room for you to crouch down, your knees pulled up tight to your chin. You bury your face in your thighs and let the tears you’ve been holding in finally fall. You’re okay. You’re okay. You’re safe. You’re fine. 
You don’t know how long you’ve spent trying to calm yourself down when a large shadow suddenly looms over you. It takes you a moment to gather your strength to find out who it is. You hope it’s Jake telling you Vinny’s gone. You’re afraid it might be Lloyd, here to tell you to get back to work. There’s a slowly building terror that it might be Vinny himself.
After a deep breath, you look up to find Curtis staring down at you, concern on his face and fiery anger in his eyes. “What happened?” he growls.
You shake your head and turn away. He crouches down in front of you. “Are you alright?”
A humorless, uncontrolled laugh escapes you. Once you finally stop, you ignore his question and ask your own, “Why are you here?”
It takes him a very long time to answer. He just looks at you seriously for several moments. Then, finally, “Jake called me.” While you try to figure out why on earth Jake would do that, he continues, “I'm sorry I wasn’t already here.”
“Why?” you blurt out without thinking. 
He looks away without saying anything. You both just sit in the silence for a few moments. Then, you try to change tactics. “Where were you?” you ask out of morbid curiosity. You can't imagine what his life is like outside of here.
“Working,” he says curtly. He plays with a ring on his middle finger and the movement draws your eyes to his hands, specifically his knuckles. They're scraped and caked with dried blood. 
You swallow and you catch how his eyes track the movement. His eyes are always on you. He catches everything. 
“Someone touched you?”
“Lots of people touch me,” you say, flatly. “It's part of the job. You touch me.”
His eyes narrow at that. “But this was different.” It isn’t a question.
You look down at your hands in your lap and don't say anything. 
“Tell me who it was.”
“No,” you say instinctively, something about the moment feeling incredibly dangerous. 
He huffs in frustration. “Are you trying to protect him?”
“No!” you say, sharply. “I’m protecting myself.”
“You don’t have to do that. Not from me. Not ever.”
You don’t know how to tell him that every atom in you knows that that isn’t true. You can’t explain it, and it wasn’t until the moment he joined you in this little closet, but you’d swear that he’s a danger to you. You just can't articulate how, but you feel it in your bones. And still, here you stay.
At your silence, he grits out, “If you don’t tell me who it was, Jake will.”
Jake probably already has, that’s what you’ve figured. “Great,” you say. “Then you don’t need me to say it.”
“Bambi,” he lets out in an exasperated growl. “I'm trying to help you.” 
You just look at him and then figure you may as well ask the main question that's on your mind. “Why did Jake call you?” 
He ignores you and stands up. “Come on,” he says and extends his hand, “I'm taking you home.”
You just blink up at him. “My shift isn't over.” 
He shakes his hand at you impatiently. “It is now. Come on.”
You shake your head. “Curtis, this is my job. I can't just– Lloyd will–”
“I'll take care of Lloyd. Let’s go.”
You think about going home. About sitting alone in your small apartment. At least here you'll have something to do, things to focus on, to keep you busy. At home, there'll be nothing to think about other than that hand between your legs and– “No,” you say as firmly as you can manage. “I'm staying here. I'm finishing the night.”
His jaw ticks but he doesn’t say anything, just tries to stare you down. You stare right back. You will not concede this. 
Finally, he exhales through his nostrils, then growls out an unhappy “Fine. But I'll–” He's interrupted by his phone ringing in his pocket. He takes it out and glances at the caller ID and sighs. “I have to take this.” He steps away as much as he can in the tiny area and answers with a curt “Everett.” There's a slight pause. “Yeah, I took care of it.” Another pause that has him glancing at you. “No, something else came up.”
You don't wait to hear the rest of the conversation. You take the opportunity to go back to the main room and get back to work. 
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You don't see Curtis again that night. You don't spare much thought to where he might've gone. You're too focused on getting through the remainder of your shift. When it's done, Jake insists on seeing you home. You don't ask why. You already know who's behind it.
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The next few days are fine. You try to put what happened behind you, doing your best to ignore it. But that becomes impossible when three days after the incident you watch Vinny walk in. You can’t help the little burst of panic you feel as you warily watch him sit down at his usual table and get dealt in. 
As subtly as you can, you make your way over to Jake. You don’t even say anything before he’s looking at you, chagrined. “I know,” he says. “I’m sorry, but I had to let him in. I promise it’s all going to be taken care of. It’s just– You can ignore him tonight, ok? Just trust me. You don’t need to worry about him. I promise.”
“Ok,” you say reluctantly, trying to resist looking back at Vinny. “I just– I didn’t think I’d have to see him again.”
“I really think that after tonight you won’t,” he says sincerely.
You don’t really understand what that means, but you nod anyway. “Ok,” you say. “I, uh, I should get back to work then.” 
He just nods after you, looking a little concerned and a little sad. But the room is filling up, so you don’t have time to delve into it.
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Sometime later, as you’re taking a brief moment to idle by the bar, a strange hush descends over the room. You’re facing away from the door, away from the rest of the room, but you see Colin take in whatever it is that’s caused this. His face pales and he lets out a quiet, urgent, “Shit.” 
You turn around to see what on earth could be going on and you immediately freeze. Curtis is here. But that’s not what’s garnering all of this attention. Well, not all. Because he’s not alone, there’s a man with him. A little shorter, not quite as broad. But you’d be able to feel the power radiating off of him, even if you didn’t recognize him. Soft dark hair, thick beard, an immaculately tailored suit. You’ve seen him in the papers, on the news, but in real life, he’s even more intimidating. Andrew Barber.
Barber leans in close to say something to Curtis, who nods, eyes scanning the room until they land on you. Your breath catches, but luckily Colin calls your name behind you and you have an excuse to turn around. He places two glasses of dark liquor on the bar. “Everett,” he says, gesturing to one, then “Barber,” while waving his hand over the other. “Got it?” You nod and place them on your tray. They’re identical to your eyes except for the fact that Barber's has a muddled black cherry at the bottom of the glass.
You carefully bring them over, trying to force yourself to breathe. Curtis intercepts you and grabs the drinks when you're a few steps away. “Thank you, Bambi,” he says, lowly. 
Barber perks up. “This is Bambi? Really?” He extends a hand and you have no choice but to take it. “Andy Barber,” he says with a disarming smile. “It's a pleasure to meet you finally.”
His handshake is firm, demanding. He is terrifying in his friendliness. And he knows who you are. Has known, for who knows how long. You glance at Curtis, but he's just calmly drinking his whiskey. You don't know what to say, what are you supposed to say?? So after too long a pause, you practically whisper, “Thank you, Mr. Barber.”
He chuckles lightly as he takes back his hand. To Curtis, he says, “You're right, Bambi does suit her.” Then he turns back to you and adds, “Andy, please.”
“O– Okay, Andy,” you say, with what you desperately hope is a benign smile. You look over at Curtis, you’re not entirely sure why, but out of these two dangerous options, he, at least, is familiar. “I should get back to work.”
Curtis is staring at you, but it’s Andy who answers. “Mmm, and we have a game to join, don’t we?” Curtis nods but still doesn’t break his gaze. Andy smirks, “No rest for the wicked.”
You have no idea what to do with that sentiment, so you take the opportunity and get out of there. You walk through the tables, checking to see if anyone needs anything, but the mob boss’s physical presence seems to have ground all action to a halt. The room is collectively holding its breath. 
You go back to the bar for want of anything else to do. Colin is standing ramrod straight, coiled in case he needs to spring into action. Lloyd is sitting down at the end of the bar, drumming his fingers, eyes moving all around the room. You settle next to Holly, who looks just as scared as she did that first night when she was trying to warn you off of Curtis. “Is this,” you start to ask, your voice shaking. “Is this normal? Does he come here a lot?”
“No, never” she shakes her head. “Why would he come here? He has real clubs and restaurants. He doesn’t need to hang out in a shit hole like this.” She shakes her head again. “He’d only come here for a reason.”
You turn your head back to the room and find that Andy and Curtis have settled at Vinny’s table, joining his game across from him. Your heart lands in your throat. That can’t– No. You’re just some cocktail waitress. Even with Curtis’s obvious interest in you, you aren’t important enough to bring the most powerful man in the city here. You’re nothing. He must have other reasons.
The room is quiet enough to hear a pin drop as everyone waits for something to happen, which is why when Andy does start speaking, you don’t have to strain your ears to pick up every word.
He looks at his cards carefully, then over at Vinny. “You know, Vinny, you’re a hard man to track down.” His voice is so calm, it sends a chill up your spine. “You don’t go home, we can’t find you at work. I was starting to get worried.” He runs a few chips through his fingers before tossing them into the center of the felt. “That’s why, when I heard you were showing up here, I sent my best man to investigate,” he nods towards Curtis, “just to make sure you were ok.” 
You don’t have a great view of Vinny from where you’re standing, but you can see how stiff he is, how silent. But he still calls when it’s his turn.
“You can imagine my relief when I found out you were alright. Except,” he raises again, a few more chips into the pot, “you’re losing a lot of money, aren’t you? Now, this upsets me. Not because you’re losing your own money. But because it’s mine, isn’t it?”
Vinny finally tries to pipe up. “Andy, hold on. I can ex–”
“You owe me $150,000, Vinny. With interest, that total’s climbing every day. And yet, you sit here and you just keep losing, don’t you? At my own game. What would you do if you won, huh? Would you really try paying me back with my own money? I thought maybe you’d at least have the smarts to cross the border and try this at one of Roger’s casinos. Huh? Paying me back with my enemy’s money, at least that I could respect. But no, it’s only me you think is stupid enough to fall for your bullshit. So now I’m here to give you the chance to fucking do it to my face.” With that, he violently pushes all of his chips into the center of the table. 
Everyone else has folded. It’s just Barber and Vinny now. You’re not sure Curtis even actually played. He’s just staring Vinny down, although occasionally his eyes will flick up and meet yours. You hate feeling like you’re a part of this, but you don’t know what else to do besides watch it play out.
Vinny is just spluttering, while Andy calmly looks on. It’s all the expected, cliche stuff you’ve seen in gangster movies. He’s got the money, he swears. He just needs a little more time. Andy has to know he’s good for it! You want to roll your eyes right along with Andy.
“Call, Vinny,” Andy cuts him off, sternly. “That’s $150,000 I just put in the pot. Call. And if you win, we’re even. Your debt’s erased. But if you lose, well then that’s $300,000 you’ll owe me. And you know I won’t be able to tolerate that. So call. And let’s find out where we stand.”
You can’t see what Vinny’s doing, but you can imagine the way his fingers must be hovering over his chips, his eyes moving down to his cards to check, one more time, if they’re as good or bad as he remembers. You know there’s no way out for him either way. He’ll have to call. He’s just delaying the inevitable.
You feel like you can't breathe as you wait for him to just finally do it, but Andy cuts in again. “The thing I can't understand, Vinny, is why you kept coming here after Curtis showed up. Either you're very stupid or really fucking greedy.” He looks at Vinny carefully. “Maybe a little of both. I hear you've been touching something that doesn't belong to you.”
You gasp. No one notices, but you do. He can't be talking about you. He can't. He can't. 
Vinny seems even more confused than you. “What are you talking about? I haven't touched anything!”
Andy continues to ignore him. “So you're stupid and greedy. That's why you aren't afraid of him like you should be. They call him my attack dog, did you know? Have you heard that? Maybe that’s the problem. Maybe you think he’s some puppy that follows me around. You’d be stupid to underestimate him, underestimate me. But maybe you only do that because you've never seen my dog off his leash.”
Curtis springs into action, lunging across the table to grab Vinny by the collar, and then slams his head into the felt. Before there’s even time to react, he’s stood and he's picking Vinny back up and hurling him onto the floor. Curtis comes around the table to stalk after him and the look on his face has you gasping for breath. You've never seen Curtis like this. There's a glint in his eye that might be the scariest thing you've ever seen. Who is this man? What is he capable of?
Vinny is dazedly trying to crawl away, but Curtis catches him easily. He grabs Vinny’s collar and hauls him back up, delivering two punches to his face in quick succession. The sound it makes. There's no other sound in the whole room. No one's saying anything, no one's doing anything. Everyone's just watching, hypnotized. You turn away, your stomach churning. Your eyes catch on Andy, sitting back in his chair, placidly drinking the whiskey you brought him, completely relaxed, like he's watching anything else. You can't look at him either. 
The room is completely silent except for the crunching of bones, Vinny’s whimpers, and Curtis’s grunts. You look up again to be startled by eye contact with Curtis. His eyes are wild, unhinged. Feral. But there's something else in it, like all of this is for you. That all of you are there, everything is happening, because Vinny dared to touch you. It takes your breath away. It’s mesmerizing.
Andy finally stands and strides over to where Curtis is holding Vinny up in the middle of the room. He looks down at Vinny, then spits in his face. “I'm tired of trying to draw blood from a stone,” he says. Then he turns to Curtis and finishes, “Get rid of him.”
Curtis gives you one last long look, his face unreadable. You feel it in your knees. Then he drags Vinny out, leaving a bloody trail behind him.
The moment they're gone, it's like the entire room can breathe again. “Lloyd,” Andy calls out. “How ‘bout a round for everyone? On me.”
Lloyd nods to Colin who hurriedly starts pouring drinks. And you, so grateful for something to do, instead of just standing there, shaking, start loading the glasses on your tray.
As you begin to pass them out, Andy of all people, pulls you aside. “Bambi,” he says quietly, “I hope you know now, we take care of our own.”
You gaze at him, shocked. It feels like a comfort and a threat. But why? It's not so much the implication that this all had something to do with you, but you can't for the life of you imagine what you've done to get yourself to a place where Andy Barber might consider you his, however distantly. It can't just be that you work here. You can't picture him doing something similar for Holly or Colin. Once again, this all feels so incredibly dangerous. 
While you're struggling to come up with anything to say to that, he grabs a drink off your tray and downs it quickly. Then, with a wink, he turns and leaves. You’re left staring after him until someone calls after you and you're scrambling to pass out drinks again. 
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The night ends quickly. No one seems eager to stay and drink and play after everything that's happened. Not when there's still blood on the floor.
You do what you can to help clean up, but when you stare at the stain helplessly, Lloyd tells you not to worry about it. He's got a guy.
Colin walks out with you so you aren’t in the parking lot alone. You're grateful. You're still so shaken. As you approach your car, your beater that you still don’t quite have the money to replace, you see someone leaning against it. You stop short, looking to Colin for help, but he just keeps walking to his own car, his head down. That’s when you know it’s Curtis. 
You take a deep breath and then force yourself to keep walking towards him. You can't begin to parse how you feel to see him now. Your keys are ready in your hand like you might just get in and drive off without speaking to him. You know you won’t.
When you reach him, his voice is rough as he asks, “Are you ok?” He’s cleaned up. There’s no more blood on his hands, his clothes have been straightened.
You open your mouth to answer, even though you have no idea, so instead what comes out is “Did you kill him?”
“Did you want me to?” is his immediate reply.
It stops you in your tracks as all sorts of feelings come bubbling up, ones you can not, will not examine. This is about his propensity for violence, how terrifying he became, not– No. “Did you?” you insist. 
He looks at you carefully then shakes his head. “I don't think you actually want me to answer that.”
“But you've killed before?” You can't stop yourself from pressing, from pushing. You don’t know why. 
He just sort of smiles, gently almost, in a way that is deeply unsettling. “You need to stop asking questions you aren’t ready for me to answer, Bambi.” And it’s the way he says the nickname, like you really are that babe in the woods, just born with no knowledge of the world around you, that has your hackles rising.
“Andy called you his dog,” you say, like he should be offended.
To your surprise, he laughs, his head thrown back. Then he takes a step closer to you, and you take the opportunity to sneak in behind him, get to your car. You realize your mistake immediately when he turns back around and cages you in, your back pressed against the driver’s side door. “Everyone calls me his dog. Because he’s the civilized man in the designer suit, and I’m the animal just begging for a reason to slip my leash.”
Your heart pounds wildly in your chest. You should get into your car. You should drive away as fast as you can. You should never come back. But you don’t. “You did it for him,” you say, mustering all the strength into your voice that you can. “You didn’t do it for me.”
He leans over you, the space between you shrinking rapidly. “Yeah, he asked me to do it,” he nods. “But if he hadn’t, I still would have done it. For you.”
 You try to shake your head, to tell him that that can’t be true, even as a wild, loud part of you starts to rise up and claw out of your chest. You try to tamp it down, deny it, but before you can, Curtis is leaning in further, his whole body pressing against you, and then he covers your lips with his.  
There’s a heat that comes up out of him that fills you, the instant his skin touches yours. His hands are on you, your neck, your hip. You can’t keep track, can only say that his hands are there, everywhere, that his body touches all of yours, that his lips and his tongue are demanding, unrelenting. You are burning up from the inside.
Too soon, but ages later, he pulls away. His eyes are on fire as he looks at you. Then he tears his gaze away, and hits the roof of your decrepit car twice, looking at it disdainfully. “You get home safe,” he says, then steps back to allow you the space you need to get into your car.
You do what he wants you to do. You get in your car, sit in the driver’s seat, and then stare blankly out the windshield. You’ve never felt so out of control in your life. How did this happen? You were flirting for tips, that was all! You encouraged it for money, that was it, and now– You press your thighs together, trying not to pant. You will not be unmoored. 
A slight movement in your periphery makes you notice that Curtis is still standing just to the side of your car, watching you. You turn your keys in the ignition and shift into drive.
It doesn’t mean anything it doesn’t mean anything it doesn’t mean anything, you chant to yourself all the way home.
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It’s your next shift back, and everything seems to have changed. You don’t understand it. You keep doing laps of the room, keep sidling up to regulars you were so friendly with just a few nights ago, but now, they won’t even look at you, let alone touch you. No one’s ordering anything.
Or at least, they aren’t ordering from you.
Holly has been running around nonstop all night, basically having to take care of the entire room by herself. You watch man after man after man slip her little bundles of money. 
You want to scream. What the fuck happened? What did you do? What are you going to do?
You go to stand by the bar to wait for something you can do. Colin gives you a brief nod of acknowledgment but that’s it. He’s been cold, too. No. Not cold, distant. You don’t understand what’s changed.
You take a deep breath. It’s one weird night. Things will be better tomorrow.
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Things don’t get better. The next night is the same. You’re starting to panic. This job was supposed to be your lifeline. Without it, without the money you were making, you’re not sure how you’ll survive.
Curtis comes in after a couple of hours of nothing. You could cry you’re so happy to see him. But terrified too. If he gives you the cold shoulder, this job really is over. But you have no idea how he’s going to act, not after what happened last time. You’re not sure how you’re going to act either. You can still feel his lips on yours.
You bring him his whiskey immediately and he greets you with an arm around your waist, pulling you in. “Hey Bambi,” he says quietly. Then he gets a good look at you. “What’s wrong?” 
You look at him carefully, not sure what to confide. You aren’t even sure what the problem is. You shake your head. “Not my best night,” you say with a tired smile. “But I’m fine.”
He stares at you for a moment, then stands up. “Come on,” he says, grabbing your hand and leading you to the little back room. You feel eyes on the two of you the whole way there.
Once he’s closed the door behind you both, he asks again, “What’s wrong?”
You sigh. “The last two nights have been weird here. I don’t– I don’t know. I’m just worried. I don’t know what happened but I’m not making any tips. No one’s treating me like they used to.”
“Mmm,” Curtis hums thoughtfully. “I think,” he says as he takes two steps closer to you, which in this small space is significant, “everyone else here has figured it out.”
It’s suddenly a little hard to breathe with him standing over you like this. His presence, his attention is always so much. “Figured what out?” you ask, confused.
“That I have lost my patience for watching other men touch you.” 
It hits you like a freight train. “What?” It comes out in a whisper.
“I’ve let this go on for too long,” he says, his voice is calm, casual. “I don’t want you working here anymore. This is done.”
“I– What? Curtis. What?! I have to work! I have to pay my bills! I don’t understand. I don’t–”
He takes one last step forward. You feel the heat coming off of him. “Shh,” he soothes, cradling your cheek in his hand. “It’ll be alright. I’ll take care of you. I take care of what’s mine.”
You pull your face away, even as the urge to nuzzle into him is so strong. You feel like you’ve missed something, a thousand things. You feel too many steps behind. “Curtis, I’m not– I’m not yours.”
Something comes into his eyes and you’re reminded of him standing over Vinny, covered in blood. His hand travels down from your cheek. He strokes your throat once, and then his hand closes around it. “Look me in the eye,” he growls, “and say that again.”
His hand is firm, snug, but it doesn’t tighten. But you can imagine so easily how it might. You look him in the eye. You open your mouth, ready to say it again. But then– then you see it. In the way he looks at you, the way he’s always looked at you. You feel it in his grip on you, now. You can’t deny it anymore. 
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Curtis shoves you into his bedroom. You’re panting already. You need his hands on you, right now. You don’t have to ask for it. He gets you to the center of the room and yanks down your skirt, tearing it in the process. You step out of it and take your blouse off, throwing it on top of your skirt. Curtis’s eyes are cataloging your body, the swell of your breasts spilling out of your bra, your soft tummy, thick thighs. His gaze, as always, takes your breath away.
You reach out for Curtis’s shirt, but he grabs your hands. “I want you on your knees,” he growls and you immediately kneel for him. He throws off his shirt, revealing the expanse of his chest, the muted blacks and grays of his tattoos. You’re desperate to run your hands over them, trace the art, but instead, they just twitch at your side. He'll tell you what you're allowed to do.
He begins unbuttoning his jeans and your mouth drops open. He chuckles darkly. “Perfect little slut.” He takes his phone out of his back pocket and aims it at you, taking a picture as you gaze up at him under your lashes, your mouth wide open. “I've been dreaming of getting you on your knees for me.” He puts his phone on his dresser, then continues taking off his pants. “You ready to choke on my cock, baby?”
“Please,” you whine. You're practically salivating now. His bare thighs are as thick as tree trunks, the muscles corded. His abs ripple as he moves. His shoulders, his back. You want.
He frees his cock and rolls his black boxer briefs down his legs, stepping out of them. It's long and thick, just like the rest of him. Your breath catches. You don't think you've ever taken something that big before.
He takes a few steps so he's completely in your space, his cock bobbing right in front of your face. He takes it in one hand, the other firmly on the back of your head and slowly feeds the tip into your mouth. You taste his musk on your tongue. As he rocks into your mouth, going a little further each time, your hands come up to grasp his thighs. On his next thrust in, you run your tongue along the underside of his dick. His movements stutter just a little and then he looks down at you, a smirk overtaking his face. It's just a touch mean, in a way that has you soaking your panties. “You ready?” he asks, his voice rough. And then without waiting for the answer, he thrusts in all the way, making you take him deep in your throat.
You flail, slapping his thigh as you try to swallow around him, breathing frantically through your nose. After holding you there for a moment, he sets a brutal but steady pace. It takes you a moment, but you find your rhythm, your panic subsiding. Once you feel steady, you lift one hand from his thighs and bring it up to cradle his balls. “Fuck, Bambi,” he grinds out. “You're gonna– I– fuck!” His hand moves from the back of your head down to the back of your neck, which he grips firmly, pulling you off his cock. As you cough and splutter on the floor, he growls, “The first time you make me come is gonna be inside that perfect cunt.”
He helps you stand on wobbly legs, then shoves his hand between your legs, cupping your pussy over your panties. “Shit, fucking soaked just from deepthroating me?”
You let out a needy little whine, trying to push further into his hand, but he withdraws it, instead settling on your hip. “Well,” he grins, “if they’re ruined anyway…” then uses that hand to rip the black lace down the side, letting them fall to the floor. He makes quick work of your bra as well, then takes a step back and sighs, “Shit, Bambi, look at you.” It’s the reverence in his voice and on his face that has you launching yourself at him, unable to keep from kissing him any longer. He lets you, quickly taking control, letting you feel all his hunger, the want he’s kept barely bottled up since he first laid eyes on you. You understand it all now. His erection brushes against you, and now it’s his turn to whine, just a little. 
He pulls away, brushing a hand down your cheek, then says “Get on the bed, on your stomach.” You quickly comply, laying in the center of the bed with your knees pulled up and spread beneath you. He brings his hand down on one asscheek harshly and you can’t help the lewd moan that escapes you. He chuckles, “Oh, I will definitely remember that for later.” He grabs your hips and cants them up, then whistles at your exposed cunt. “I knew it. Absolutely beautiful.” Then he unceremoniously shoves two fingers into your hole and you choke on nothing. “Shh,” he coos. “You can take it. My cock’s gonna be a lot thicker.” 
As he starts scissoring his fingers inside you, you can’t hold it in any longer and start babbling. Mostly a combination of “please,” and “Curtis,” and “I need,” over and over.
“I know, baby,” he says as he pulls his fingers out of you. “I’ve got what you need right here.” You have a brief moment to feel the tip of his cock on your pussy lips before he’s thrusting it into you, as far as he can go without making it hurt. 
“Oh my god,” you cry, pressing your forehead into the mattress and balling his dark blue sheets in your hands. You feel so full. It’s so good. He’s working himself into you as quickly as he can, desperate now. You both are. Once he bottoms out, fully seated in you, he pauses. Then with one hand on your stomach and the other around your neck, he pulls you up onto your knees, your back flush to his chest. You cry out at the new angle; he’s somehow even deeper now. He starts thrusting up into you at a punishing pace. You’re bouncing up and down in his firm grasp. The hand on your neck turns your head to face him, his lips brushing against yours. He holds eye contact with you as the hand on your stomach snakes down your pelvis so his thick fingers can begin circling your clit. “Fuck! Curtis, please!” you shout. 
“Yeah, come on,” he breathes, “you can let go. You can do it. Come for me like a good girl.” It’s those words that send you careening over the edge, your cunt pulsing around his cock, squeezing him until he’s coming too with a grunt, filling you up until both your cum is leaking out around him. 
He holds you there, on your knees, as you both come down, your twin pants all you can hear.
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You wake up slowly, the sun shining on you through the soft drapes. You start to shift then groan at how stiff you are. The night before comes back to you. Curtis took you two more times before you both collapsed in satisfied exhaustion. He’s still out like a light beneath you. 
You take a moment to look at him. It’s odd to see him so peaceful, so still. There’s nothing of the feral predator he projects to the world. It makes you feel oddly close to him, seeing him like this.
You carefully get up without disturbing him and begin collecting your clothes. You put on your bra, but there’s no saving your panties. Same for your skirt; it’s ripped along the seam. So instead you pick up Curtis’s t-shirt from last night and put it on. It smells like him. You breathe it in shamelessly knowing there’s no one to witness it.
You savor the soreness as you move out of the bedroom. It’s like you can still feel him inside you, how much he wanted you, needed you. It makes you feel a little powerful, having that effect on a man like him.
You make your way into his living room. You didn’t really have a chance to look at his house last night, as determined as he was to get you into the bedroom. If you’d ever thought to picture it, this wouldn’t be far off. It’s all rich blues and greens and grays, leather and dark wood. Masculine. It suits him. 
As you’re admiring the room, you hear footsteps behind you and then two big arms are encircling your waist, pulling you into him. “Good morning,” he rasps. 
You turn your head to him. “Good morning,” you say with a smile.
“Fuck, Bambi, you’re even hotter in my shirt than you were last night.”
You smirk at him even as your face heats. “Mmm,” you hum. “It’s comfy. You might not get it back.” He nuzzles into your neck as you continue. “I was hoping you might have something I could wear for bottoms, too. You destroyed my skirt.”
His beard roughly drags against your skin as he asks, “Why the hell would I let you wear bottoms?”
You laugh. “Because I have to leave the house, Curtis.”
“No, you don’t,” he says as his hand begins to move between your thighs.
You playfully swat him away, even as you feel yourself getting wet again from his attention. “I have to go home.”
“Why? You’re staying here.” It’s how certain he sounds that has you turning around in his arms.
“What?”
“I don’t like your building. It isn’t safe enough. Now that I finally have you, of course, I’m going to keep you here with me.”
Once again, you feel too many steps behind. You just blink at him, confused. How does he even know where you live??
He takes your chin in his hand, his fingers gentle. “I told you, Bambi, I take care of what’s mine.”
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lukesvangelista · 2 days
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𝐢’𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮
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*gif by @makarhughes
in which matt’s helped y/n through her chronic illness for years, but one night, it all becomes too much.
warnings; chronic illness (lupus), hospitals + hospitalization, worried matt rempe
When you were 14, you sat in the sterile doctor's office, your hands trembling slightly as you waited for test results. You had been feeling off for months—fatigue, joint pain, strange rashes—and you knew something was wrong, but hearing the words "You have lupus" felt like the ground was pulled from beneath you. Your chest tightened as the doctor explained the diagnosis, your mind racing with questions you didn’t know how to ask. All you could think about was how this would affect your life, your schooling, and the people you loved. You felt numb, unable to process it all at once.
When you were 19, you had met Matt during an off-season charity event. You were volunteering at an animal shelter, and hadn’t expected much from the night, just another hockey fundraiser with a few familiar, but many unfamiliar faces. But when you were introduced to Matt, something clicked. He was easygoing, with a quiet charm that drew you in right away. You guys spent the evening talking, first about hockey, then about everything else. By the end of the night, you were laughing like old friends. You hadn't thought much of it at first, but as time went on, your paths kept crossing, and it became clear that meeting Matt wasn’t just a coincidence—it was the start of something that changed your life.
Telling Matt about your chronic illness had been one of the hardest things you ever did. You remembered the night clearly, sitting across from him with your hands clenched tightly in your lap. Your heart pounded as you struggled to find the right words, terrified of how he might react, “I have lupus.” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, afraid of seeing pity or disappointment in his eyes. But instead of pulling away, Matt gently reached for your hand, his quiet reassurance easing some of the weight you’d been carrying alone for so long.
Ever since then, he’d been the absolute sweetest boyfriend — always taking care of you when things got rough, and always reassuring you about your strength and resilience. It had even gotten to the point where Matt had offered to take games and practices off, but you always told him no. Despite his reluctance, he always listened to you.
While you had been feeling okay over the past couple of weeks, today was one of those days.
It had been one of those mornings where you knew, as soon as you opened your eyes, that it was going to be a rough day. Your body ached in ways that made it hard to move, and a low fever had settled in overnight, leaving you feeling drained. You groaned softly, rolling over and catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror— the familiar butterfly-shaped rash had returned, bright across your cheeks.
Matt wasn’t in bed next to you. You cursed to yourself as you realized the time, noting that he was at morning practice. You groaned, tears welling up in your eyes at the pain you were in. You tried to fight through it and get out of bed, but the pain was too much. You felt helpless. With the strength you did have, you reached out to grab your phone off of the nightstand next to you, sending a quick text to Matt.
one of those days. will you be home soon?
You waited anxiously for Matt’s reply, but didn’t have to wait long.
leaving the arena now. be home soon, my love.
On the other end of the phone, Matt could sense something was wrong. Even when you were dealing with a flare up, you were as independent as could be. You hated asking for help, because it made you feel like you were a burden. The fact that you texted him was a miracle in itself.
When he got home, he set his gear down in the garage and made his way up the stairs to your room as quickly as he could. Within minutes, he was sitting beside you on the bed, concern etched on his face. “How are you feeling?” he asked gently, brushing a hand across your forehead to check for a fever. You were burning up.
“Better now that you’re here,” you joked, cracking a small smile, but Matt could see right through it. He smiled at you sadly, climbing into bed next to you. He could see the exhaustion in your eyes. Whenever you went through a flare up, you felt as though you could sleep for days on end.
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he rolled his eyes, settling down under the blankets as you gently placed your head on his shoulder, “close your eyes, love, and just rest. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
So you did.
Matt stayed close all day, making sure you stayed hydrated when you woke up, adjusting the pillows when you needed more comfort, and even gently applying cool compresses to your face when the heat of your fever became unbearable. Every time you tried to apologize or downplay your discomfort, he stopped you with a quiet, reassuring smile, “I’ve got you,” he’d say, his voice calm and steady.
By the time bedtime came around, you were still achy, but the fever had gone down a little, and the rash had begun to fade. Matt had barely left your side, keeping the TV on low and talking to you softly, filling the silence with easy conversation to distract you from the pain. As the two of you lay in bed that night, Matt’s arm draped protectively over you, and you felt a deep sense of comfort. You hated feeling weak, but with Matt, it never felt like you had to fight alone.
As you fluttered off to sleep, Matt pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. He loved it when you slept — you were so extremely beautiful, and he knew that sleeping took the pain away for a brief moment of time. At the same time, however, he couldn’t help but worry. It had been a long time since he’d seen a flare up this bad, but you had gotten through it. That gave him just enough solace to fall asleep next to you after hours of worrying as you slept, his arm still draped gently over your body.
Within minutes of his eyes closing, Matt stirred in his sleep, feeling you shift beside him. He was exhausted, having stayed by your side all day, but he’d never leave you when you were having such a rough time with your illness. He had only just fallen asleep when he felt a light tug on his arm.
“Matt…” your voice was faint, barely a whisper in the dark room, but there was an unmistakable tremor in it that shot adrenaline through him.
He blinked his eyes open and sat up quickly, heart already pounding. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, trying to keep his voice steady, even though dread immediately settled in his chest.
You looked at him, your face pale and clammy, beads of sweat dotting your forehead. You swallowed hard, struggling to speak. “I… I don’t feel right. It’s never been this bad before. I think… I think I should go to the hospital.”
Matt’s stomach dropped. The words hit him like a punch, and suddenly, he was wide awake, fear gnawing at him. He kept his face calm, though—he had to. If you saw how scared he was, it would only make you panic.
“Okay,” he said gently, his voice even though his mind was racing. “Let’s get you there. Can you sit up?”
You nodded weakly, but as you tried to move, you winced in pain, and Matt immediately reached over, helping you. His hands were steady, though inside, his chest felt like it was caving in. You were never the type to admit that you needed help, and hearing you say that you wanted to go to the hospital made his heart twist in his chest.
Once you were sitting up, Matt quickly grabbed a sweatshirt for you, carefully sliding it over your shoulders before easing your legs over the side of the bed. “I’ve got you,” he murmured, his hands never leaving you as he helped you stand.
Every second felt like it stretched on forever. In his mind, he was already imagining the worst—what if something was really wrong? What if you were in more pain than you let on? But outwardly, he stayed calm, focusing on the next step. He needed to get you to the hospital, and everything else could wait.
Once the two of you were in the car, Matt kept glancing over at you, his hand gripping the wheel tighter than necessary. “You’re doing great,” he said softly, hoping the words would bring you some comfort, though the knot in his stomach tightened every time you shifted uncomfortably in her seat.
“It hurts,” you cried out, your voice shaky as you gripped your stomach and leaned forward to rest your head on the dashboard. Matt flinched at the pain in your voice, tears gathering in his eyes, but he couldn’t let them spill.
“I know, baby, I know. We’re almost there, just hold on.”
The drive felt like it took forever, every red light adding another layer to Matt’s mounting anxiety. But he didn’t rush. The last thing you needed was a reckless driver on top of everything else.
When you finally arrived at the hospital, Matt helped you out of the car, wrapping his arm securely around your waist as you guys made your way inside. The bright lights and sterile smell of the hospital hit him hard, but he kept his focus on you, his heart aching at how much pain you seemed to be in.
As Matt checked in, you leaned heavily against him, your head resting on his shoulder. You hadn’t said much since the car ride, and Matt’s worry spiked even higher.
The nurse took both of you to a room, and once you were settled on the hospital bed, Matt pulled a chair close, refusing to leave your side. The doctors came in, asking you questions. Although you were obviously in tremendous pain, the doctors wouldn’t let up and get you help. But all Matt could do was watch, his hands clenched together in his lap, his mind screaming for answers.
When the doctors left to run tests, Matt finally let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He took your hand, squeezing it gently. “You’re gonna be okay, alright? They’ll figure out what’s going on.”
You gave him a small, tired nod, your eyes glassy from pain and exhaustion. “Thanks for staying calm,” you whispered, your voice weak but filled with gratitude.
Matt forced a smile, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “Anything for you.” But inside, his heart was racing, every second dragging on painfully as he waited for some kind of news. He kept stroking your hand, praying silently that everything would be okay, all while forcing his expression to stay calm.
For your sake, he would hold it together. But the second you were out of this hospital, he’d let all his fear and worry flood out—just not yet. Not until you were okay.
Within minutes, you had passed out from exhaustion. The doctors moved quickly around you. Matt stood by your side, holding your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in an attempt to soothe both you and himself. Although you were asleep, he could feel the tension in your grip, the way you were holding on to him like he was your anchor in a storm.
“I’m right here,” he whispered softly, leaning closer to you. “You’re going to be okay. I’m not going anywhere.”
But even as he said it, the fear gnawed at him. What if you weren’t okay? What if this time was worse than before?
The doctors were speaking in low tones, their words just out of reach, and Matt’s stomach churned as he tried to make sense of it all. He wanted to demand answers, to make them tell him what was going on, but he couldn’t leave you. He needed to stay with you, to keep you calm, even as his own fear threatened to overwhelm him.
After what felt like an eternity, the doctor approached, her expression serious but not alarming. Matt held his breath.
“We’re going to admit Y/N for observation,” the doctor explained. “Her symptoms are concerning, but we’re taking all the necessary steps to stabilize her. We’ll get her comfortable and monitor her closely.”
Matt nodded, swallowing hard. “Is she going to be okay?”
The doctor offered a small, reassuring smile. “We’re doing everything we can. She’s in good hands, Mr. Rempe.”
Matt thanked her, but his focus was already back on you. You were still holding his hand, your grip weak but steady, your eyes still closed as they wheeled you toward a permanent room. His chest tightened again, but he forced himself to stay composed, even though he was falling apart inside.
Once you were in the room, Matt sat down beside your bed, his hand still clutching yours. The room was quiet, the beeping of machines the only sound breaking the silence. Your breathing had calmed slightly, but you looked so pale, so fragile, that it nearly broke him.
He leaned forward, resting his forehead on your joined hands, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m here. You’re going to get through this, okay? You’re stronger than this. I know you are.”
And even though he was terrified, even though the fear still clawed at him, Matt knew he’d stay with you through it all. No matter how scared he was, no matter how hard it got, he wouldn’t leave your side.
You were everything to him, and he’d do whatever it took to make sure you were okay. Even if that meant staying up all night, fighting sleep when his eyes would flutter shut. The clock struck 1:00, 2:00, 3:00, 4:00, 5:00, and so on, but the boy refused to sleep, his tired eyes glancing over to you in concern more times than he could count. Time moved slowly, but that didn’t matter to Matt.
The next morning, around 9:00, sunlight filtered through the thin curtains of the hospital room, casting a soft glow across the bed. You blinked awake slowly, the familiar beeping of machines and the sterile hospital scent filling your senses. As you adjusted to the light, your eyes immediately found Matt.
He was still in the same chair beside your bed, his posture tense but upright. His hand was still holding yours, his grip firm even though he looked utterly exhausted. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, and it was clear he hadn’t slept at all. His face was slightly scruffy, and his hair was messy from running his hands through it all night, but his gaze was focused entirely on you, concern etched deeply into his features.
“Matt?” your voice came out raspy, your throat dry from a night of fitful sleep. You gave his hand a gentle squeeze, trying to pull his attention back from wherever his thoughts had drifted.
His eyes snapped to yours, relief flooding his expression as soon as he saw you were awake. He immediately leaned forward, his tired features softening. “Hey,” he whispered, his voice thick with fatigue. “You’re awake.”
You nodded slowly, your body still heavy with exhaustion, but you could already feel the difference. You felt better—weak, but a little better, “You stayed up all night?” you asked softly, your heart aching at the sight of him so worn out, knowing he had been up watching over you.
Matt gave you a tired smile, but his eyes were filled with love and relief. “Yeah,” he admitted, his voice gentle, “I didn’t want to sleep in case you needed me.”
You frowned, your heart swelling with love for him, but also a hint of guilt creeping in. “Matt, you didn’t have to do that. You need rest too.”
He shook his head quickly, his thumb brushing gently over the back of your hand. “I’m fine. I wanted to be here. The only thing that matters is you.”
The emotion in his voice made your chest tighten, and you felt tears prick your eyes as you looked at him. You knew he was tired, that he had been running on pure adrenaline and fear since the two of you had arrived at the hospital, but there he was, still sitting by your side, refusing to leave.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” you whispered, your voice breaking slightly.
Matt leaned forward, his free hand brushing a stray tear from your cheek. “You won’t ever have to find out,” he said softly, his voice filled with quiet conviction. “I’m not going anywhere, Y/N. I’m always going to be here for you. No matter how hard things get.”
Your throat tightened, and you couldn’t stop the tears that welled up in your eyes. “I hate that you’re worrying so much,” you whispered. “I hate that you have to deal with this because of me.”
Matt’s expression softened, and he shifted in his chair, leaning in closer to you. “You’re not a burden, Y/N. Not even close. I’d do this a thousand times over if it meant being here for you. You’re everything to me.”
The sincerity in his words made your heart swell, and you couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. You let them fall silently, grateful for his unwavering support, his love that never faltered even when things got tough. You squeezed his hand tightly, wanting him to know how much he meant to you, how much his presence had kept you grounded through everything.
“I love you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, but the words filled with all the emotion you couldn’t fully express.
Matt’s face softened even more, and he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I love you too,” he murmured, his lips lingering against your skin for a moment before he pulled back to meet your eyes. “More than anything.”
You stayed like that for a while, the room filled with a quiet peace as you held onto each other. You could feel the weight of everything—your illness, the hospital, the fear—start to lift, replaced by the warmth and comfort of Matt’s love. He had been your rock through it all, never wavering, never leaving your side.
“You should rest now,” you whispered softly, your hand still holding onto his. “You’ve done so much for me. Let me take care of you for a little bit.”
Matt chuckled softly, the sound warm and soothing despite his exhaustion. “Maybe in a little while,” he said with a tired smile. “But right now, I just want to be with you.”
You smiled up at him, your heart full. “You’re the best,” you whispered, your voice filled with affection.
Matt gave you a soft smile, his eyes filled with nothing but love. “Yeah,” he said quietly, brushing a thumb gently over her knuckles, “I know.”
You chuckled softly, an eye roll quickly following. But as the morning light filled the room, the two of you stayed there, wrapped in the quiet comfort of each other’s presence, knowing that together, you could face whatever came next.
That was until you checked the time, however. You groaned, and Matt’s head shot up, his brows furrowing as he looked over at you to figure out what was wrong, “Matthew Rempe! What happened to morning practice?”
And that was the first time he had left your side.
100 notes · View notes
starlostastronaut · 2 days
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SUNSETS AND BUCKET LISTS
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han jisung × reader - fluff, childhood friends to lovers, college au - 1.8k
summary - spending your last day with your best friend before school should be sad, but this time it took an unexpected turn
cw - use of yn?
links - masterlist
so! i'm almost late but, still made it in time. i guess you could call this ji's bday fic (tho there will be more sunshine twins content coming soon), but most importantly, happy birthday katsy!! ( @catiuskaa ) this one is for you <3333
and shout out to my mars who saved me several times writing this. not proofread and idk what is that ending, but i hope you like it! <3
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“Morning, sleepyhead,” Jisung whispered into your ear, his hot breath spilling over your skin, making you shiver and instantly startling you awake. Or mostly awake. Still half asleep, your brain only registered that someone is in very close proximity to you and we do not like that, before your hand tightened on your plushie and you whacked Jisung in the face.
“Ow, what’s that for?” he whined, dramatically holding his palm to the right side of his face. His mischievous grin was replaced by a scowl and he looked at you like you just stole his dog, not simply hit him with a stuffed cat. With your consciousness finally catching up to speed, you realized that it was not an alien coming to abduct you, but it was Han Jisung, your best friend since you were three years old. And he carried the title proudly, always mentioning your sixteen years long friendship to anyone who (did not) care.
“Sorry, Ji, oh my god!” You swiftly rose up on the bed, it was a miracle your head didn't collide with Jisung's as well. “I thought you were, I don't know, a pervert or something.”
“YN,” Jisung sighed. “It's literally just us two and our parents. There's a security system in the house. How would a pervert even get in?”
He was right. Growing up in the same town, just three houses away, your families have known each other very well. It was a tradition that started when you and Jisung were old enough to travel and actually understand a vacation. Your families always rented out the same beach house to spend the last two weeks of summer holiday together.
By now, you knew the place front to back, being able to move around while blinded and you would be just fine. So Jisung was right, but you couldn’t possibly let him have the win so easily.
“I don't know,” you shrugged. “They always find a way?” Jisung gave you an unimpressed look. “Okay, okay. But it's still your fault. You shouldn't have woken me up like a creep.”
“Blah, blah, blah.” Jisung rolled his eyes and grabbed your hands, quite literally dragging out of bed and out of the warm comfort of the covers. You hissed and a shiver ran over your skin as your, due to the summer heat barely clothed, body made contact with the cold floor. “Come on, get up, we have so much stuff to do!”
Jisung let go of your hands, bouncing around happily. You shook your head, amazed at the amount of energy he had so early in the morning. Had he eaten just sugar for breakfast?
You slowly stood up, rummaging through the closet for some clothes. “Turn around at least, perv,” you laughed, smacking him over his chest with a shirt. Jisung laughed, but left the room, giving you privacy to change. Not wanting to keep him waiting, you put on the first shorts and shirt you found. It's not like you were going to meet many people so who cares, right? On your way out you grabbed a hoodie too. The summer was in fact nearing its end and the mornings were often chilly. And knowing Jisung, you will have breakfast outside.
As per your prediction, the small outside table was full of food, with Jisung impatiently waiting for you, bouncing his leg and playing with a fork.
After a quick breakfast, Jisung shared his plan for the day. You listen in disbelief, wondering how he wanted to fit all of that into one day. Despite your doubts, you were going to do everything for it to happen though.
This was your last day together. In pursuit of your respective dreams, you and Jisung not only attended different universities, but in different cities too and the distance made it even harder. In order to visit each other, you would have to spend several hours traveling, and that was a luxury you couldn’t afford. You tried, but then a test came up, or a friend's birthday party or Jisung was sick… After three months you gave up trying, resigning to seeing your best friend on Christmas and summer only.
It was hard enough to leave him last year, but you called each other a lot. In the beginning that was. Once you got your bearings and university properly started, you were often so exhausted you fell asleep on the video call. Or didn't call at all, because Jisung forgot to charge his phone in the whirlwind of classes and deadlines.
You never knew it was possible to miss someone so much. Being without Jisung felt like someone was slowly tearing off your limbs. And when you saw him at Christmas, it felt like the puzzle finally found its missing piece. A week later, in your dorm room with friends and soju, some revelations were had, but by the time summer came around, your mind was in a completely different place.
And this time, knowing what kind of year you were up against, letting go of Jisung for another several months suddenly felt impossible. Knowing this shared vacation was coming, both you and Jisung made a list of activities to do and places nearby to visit. But with how excited you both were, you put off checking boxes in favour of lazing around, watching anime, going to the pool and talking for hours.
So there you were, left with a list impossible to complete by the end of today. Yet nothing would deter you from trying.
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“I think I'm actually gonna die.” You fell onto your towel, lying motionlessly on the beach. Not even having enough energy to watch the sunset, which you would have taken countless pics of any other day.
By some miracle, you managed to complete Jisung's entire checklist for the day, which left you completely exhausted. You were seriously thinking of asking Jisung to carry you back, because unlike you, he seemed as if powered by the air he breathed - he hadn't run out of energy the whole day.
“Noo, you can't die yet. We still have to check off the paddleboard at the sea,” Jisung said. And there it was, he actually brought the paddleboard down to the beach. You saw it lying next to your things when you sat back up.
“Ji, seriously?” you laughed. “You can't swim? And it's dark.” The idea seemed a little funny and a whole lot crazy. It was one thing to be at the pool, where there was a bottom and a limited amount of water. To go to the wild, open sea, in the dark, and tired after the whole day? k
“Actually… I can. Kinda. Lix taught me,” Jisung admitted. You knew who he was talking about, Jisung wouldn't shut up about his roommate and new best friend Felix, he actually mentioned him in about every conversation he could. It was kind of cute actually. You were worried Jisung would struggle, being an introvert with social anxiety, but Felix waltzed into his life and saved him for you.
“Okay…” Felix teaching him solved one problem at least. But you still didn't feel like it was a good idea. “Ji, do we have to? What if something happens? We're tired, we're alone here…”
Jisung’s shoulders slumped. “Right, yeah you're right. I just had this plan and I wanted to… nevermind.”
That wasn't fair. Now you felt bad. God, why was Jisung so cute? “Maybe we could… I don't know. Put it just by the shore and sit on it?” you suggested, wanting to make Jisung happy. You would do anything to make him happy, even go out on the sea when you thought about it.
Alone together on the beach, the sun setting over the water, the atmosphere was romantic. And thought your brain, because all your feelings that you pushed aside to focus on quality time with Jisung, now came rushing back all at once.
Jisung's face lit up. “Yeah, we can do that. I guess it counts as completing.” You helped Jisung push the paddleboard just behind the first waves, sitting on it with your feet in the water, still in the safe distance to the shore.
You looked over the horizon, the sun reflecting on the water begging to be photographed. “Selca?” you asked. Jisung nodded and leaned closer, posing for the low quality picture. With barely any natural light left, the photo was bound to be blurry and dark, but you always liked that kind of aesthetic anyway.
Feeling daring in the moment, you pressed your lips to Jisung's cheek. Barely, just a few seconds, but enough to capture on your phone.
“YN…” Jisung whispered. If it wasn't so dark, you would see the pink dusting his face.
“Sorry, I just… I just had to,” you said. What did you have to lose anyway? You were leaving tomorrow morning and wouldn't see Jisung for another few months. “I had to know what it feels like,” you whispered.
Jisung lowered his gaze, choosing to look at the waves rather than looking at you. Somehow, the silence was scarier than a rejection of your implied confession.
“Say something Ji, please,” you begged, not knowing how to bear the crushing weight of the silence anymore. You feared what message it carried.
“You crossed the last box for me.”
Before you could ask what it meant, Jisung took out a crumpled piece of paper and handed it to you. His checklist of activities for the vacation. When you unfolded the small ball of paper, your eyes skimmed over the completed activities, all the way to the last one.
Kiss YN in some super romantic moment.
“I planned to tell you,” Jisung spoke up. “How I feel. I guess you beat me to it.” He lifted his head to look at you. “I did understand it correctly, right? It wasn't a platonic friend kiss, because Felix sometimes gives me those and if it was then forget everything I said because-”
You surged forward, interrupting his rambling with your lips on his. It was a wonder you didn't fall off the paddleboard, with how much force was used. You felt him freeze and smile, as he slowly kissed you back, overcoming the initial shock and surprise.
And you kissed, until there was no sun in the sky and your parents had to go look at why you took so long. That night, you laid in Jisung's bed, making promises and wishes for the upcoming year, already making plans, determined to not give up this time.
Somehow, coming back to campus and the insanity your university could be sometimes, wasn't as hard as it was last year. This time around, you had something new to look forward to in the darkest moments of endless texts and assignments. You had a boyfriend and a promise to keep. No giving up this time. And you both dutifuly kept it.
Jisungie <3
still alive after that test?
YN <3
barely
i'm dead inside and lonely
my roommate's out this weekend on a family thing
leaving me all alone in this dorm
Jisungie <3
good thing i have no classes this friday
see you then ynnie <3
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blissxjj · 2 days
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Hello hello!! I would like to request de brothers with a MC who is a extreme kisser. They lose almost all their breath to be able to stay in a long kiss. And then go to another.
I'm sorry if it's too hard to understand 😥, English is not my first language.
Brothers X An Extreme Kisser
Featuring: Lucifer/Mammon
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Lucifer
It was a nice quite evening as Lucifer sat on his desk doing some paper work, till he heard a knock and you cracked the door peeking in
"You can come in MC" he said and you push the door and ran to his desk
"Luci you said you would stop overworking yourself" you said extremely aware of his workaholic nature
"I am sorry sweetheart but, you know Diavolo needs me now more than ever" Lucifer said
"Well maybe i need you more than him" you said getting annoyed
He looked up at you and your face heats up because you just realized what you said. You finally make your way towards him and give in to your desires
You lean over his desk grabbing his tie pulling him in for a slow passionate kiss. Lucifer knew he was in for a long one as he had always known how extreme your kisses are, as much as he wants to breath he can't bring himself to pull away from you, both because of your grip on his tie and just the pure lust he started feeling, rising through his body making it harder and harder to breathe.
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Mammon
It was early morning when you woke up to your bed shuffling, looking back to see Mammon tossing and turning in bed while sleeping. You turn to face him and lift your hand to brush over his cheek, that was enough to make his eyes flutter open. Still heavy with sleep he mumbles a "good morning" to you before his eyes close again
"You move alot in your sleep you know that?" You asked
"Yes and there is nothing you can do to stop it" he said
You loved this challenge, as it made you want to win and rub it in his face
"Bet i can restrain you for a good while" you said seductively
"Really!?" Before he could say more you smack your lips on his and turned to get on top of him, the sudden action made Mammon blush like hell, your kiss made him numb as you lick, bite and rub on him, he broke it off for some air and he said between huffs
"So extreme! But you did restrain me so that’s a point for you"
Masterlist
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count-on-mi · 10 hours
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Twice Interactive Story Part 42-59.5 Home Date or Bed Date (Nayeon)
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After sending out Mina, you finally have the time to get back to your actual work after these 2 insane days. Time flies when you are focusing on work, it is already night now. You pack your belongings and then leave the office.
It's Friday today, so you have a longer time to rest tonight, you are thinking you should visit your family or date with your girlfriend tonight while you are driving home.
I decide to spend sometime with my girlfriend. Maybe an at home date were we cook something and watch a movie.
As it's Friday, you have decided to date your girlfriend tonight, so you try to call her.
She tells you she is ready to leave her office, so you are going to pick her up, and go to your home.
You have dated your girlfriend Nayeon for a couple of years since you were in college. However, as she is working on the other side of the city, so she is not living with you, instead she share a flat with some of her colleagues.
You really miss her, so you just drive there as soon as possible.
Once you arrive, she is rushing to you to get a hug.
'Y/N, I miss you so much, do you miss me too?'
"Of course, I miss you. I want to be with you every day." I give her a kiss, and tell ask her what she wants to do for our date. If she doesn't have an idea I suggest we go back to my place and I cook her something.
You kiss her forehead and hug her back, 'Of coz I miss you, Nabong, I can't even sleep well without you.'
Nayeon smirks and said she was a bit tired and want to spend the night for a home date.
You two then buy some ingredients at the supermarket before back to your home.
As she is tired, you tell her to go to a bath first and you would cook her dinner.
I'll cook her favorite meal as she takes a bath.
In the downtime, I have between cooking. I'll run over to turn on the Television to get a movie ready.
You send Nayeon into the bathroom, and you start preparing dinner, cooking steak and making the salad, pouring wine, in the meantime time, you set up the table and light up the candle, trying to get the dinner more romantic.
After everything is settled, you sit on sofa and turn on the TV, looking for some movie that you two can watch.
You then tell Nayeon the dinner's ready, and ask is she ok cause she take the bath a bit longer than usual.
Nayeon come out with her pajamas and then you two finally start the dinner with the wine, Nayeon seems not too happy, you are curious and ask her why.
'I didn't lock the door, babe.'
It takes me a second before I realize what she means, I go and hug her before whispering "we have all night my love, we can take things slow" I'll lead her to the food I made.
You two then enjoy the dinner through the night, while talking about how it's going when you are separated.
Nayeon is a bit drunk after dinner, but she still wants to spend some time with you before she falls asleep, so you hold her to the sofa and watch the movie together.
You didn't realize Nayeon has fall asleep during the movie, she sleeps when she cuddling you and have a smile on her face.
I gently lift her and carry her to my bed. I'll get behind her and hug her being the bid spoon as I fall asleep.
The sleeping is too good which you two sleep until noon, you wake up first, and Nayeon awake so when you try to pull out your arm.
'Sorry that I woke you up baby.'
'Never mind baby, we have wasted a night already, perhaps it's the time now.'
Nayeon kisses you while searching your morning boner in your pants.
I'll kiss her back while one of my hands goes underneath her pajama pants and the other starts to play with her tit through her clothes.
You two are kissing and fingering each other inside the pants, she grabs your hand and put it inside her pajamas so you can play her tits directly.
You two keep making out passionately like the end of the world, she rides on you as you two remove your clothes, she sucks on your nipple and keeps stroking your shaft with your pre-cum as lubricant. The sensation makes you shiver, and you start moaning.
I just tell her enough with foreplay, and align myself with her pussy before pulling her down. I continue kissing her as I thrust.
It's time for the main course, you tell Nayeon you are ready and you kiss her, you align your shaft with her pussy and thrust up before she can react. Nayeon's pussy is already familiar with the size of your shaft, so she takes no time to adjust herself, knowing she has been waiting for a whole week, you thrust to the deepest every time, hope to make she cums as soon as possible.
You pull her head down for kiss as you keep fucking her, you can still hear her moan although you two are kissing. Soon she pushes your head away and start riding you more quickly, you can feel her walls become tighter.
'Faster babe, ahh, I am ahh, nearly cumming, ahh, make me ahh, cum!'
I hold onto her hips and when I feel that she's about to cum, I slam her down on my cock and fill her with cum.
'Yeah Nabong, I'm cumming too, let's cum together' Feeling her walls becoming even tighter, you de no resist the pleasure as you want to cum with her, with three more thrusts, your push into the deepest and slam her down when your cock is releasing your seed.
You keep thrusting until all your release all your seed, Nayeon's hand also massaging your ball. You two enjoying the aftertaste of the orgasm as she is laying on your chest.
I kiss her forehead and ask if she enjoyed herself, already knowing the answer.
You two are sharing some sweet time after the sex, with Nayeon laying on your chest, but suddenly you feel Nayeon is adjusting her body, you thought she was finding a better position to cuddle, but you soon realize what is happening when she is playing your dick.
'Come on Nabong, I suppose we are going to have sweet time?'
'Isn't it a sweet time? Nayeon smirks and turn her head down to you lower half.
I smile at her and start to play with her tits in response. "If you want a really sweet time, then how about we go again?"
'Let's go for another round babe, I want you to eat me out.' Nayeon said while sits on your face and start sucking you.
You two are now in a 69 position and you start licking her cunt, her moan makes vibrations in her mouth, which make much pleasure to you, so you lick her more fiercely, and try to put your finger in her ass. She starts to shake when you enter her, you can feel her mouth getting tighter.
I decide to have some fun and add another finger in her as while at the same time speeding up my fingers.
You found that every time you push in your finger, Nayeon's mouth is becoming tighter, so you put one more finger in and speed up, you also put your tongue in her pussy.
Nayeon is so hyper, that she keeps moaning, however as she is sucking your cock, she has nowhere else to release her pleasure, she just suck you harder.
This becomes a cycle, each time you go in faster, she sucks your dick harder, and you feel your dick start twisting. 'Shit, Nayeon you have such a good mouth, I'm going to cum.'
I'll start rubbing her clit with my other hand as well as inserting a third finger in an attempt to make us cum at the same time.
You increase your intensity hope to bring Nayeon cums at the same time with you. However, her mouth is too good to resist, you did not make it.
'OH, Nayeon, shit, I 'm cumming, I 'm cumming, take it all' You thrust your hips up wanting to get deeper in her mouths while you keep shooting your cums into her mouth.
This is the most pleasant orgasm you have for a long time, the amount you cum even more than your first cum, Nayeon cannot hold onto it, and some of the semen are leaking out from her mouth and even nose.
I'll keep eating out Nayeon and fingering her asshole that way she gets to cum too.
You keep the intensity of your fingers while Nayeon is milking you. Nayeon finally cums and splash her cum on your face. Nayeon lay down in your chest once again to get some rest while still playing your cum.
'You cum so much babe, much more than the first round, you like my mouth more than my pussy huh?'
I tease her by asking if she likes it in her ass more than her pussy. I follow that up by telling her that I just enjoy being her.
'With that much cum in my pussy, we would definitely get a baby, it's wasted in my mouth.' Nayeon answers seductively.
'But I am hungry now, babe.'
I focus on Nayeon's first comment. Cupping her cheek I ask her if she wants a baby.
You are turned on by Nayeon's comment on having a baby, your shaft immediately harden. Nayeon giggles when she feel your dick is pointing her thigh.
'Turned on by imagining pumping a baby inside me, huh you horny boy.' She grabs your shaft and starts stroking again.
You cup her cheek and ask her would she like to have a baby with you seriously. She turns around her face to focus on stroking you instead of giving you answer.
I'll bring her face back up and kiss her saying I'd love to give her a baby
You kiss Nayeon and tell her again you really want to have a baby with her, She answers you 'Why don't we enjoy this moment instead?' and returns to your kiss while hitting the sensitive spot on your dick with her hand.
The sensation makes you addicted, you forgot what you wanna say and start moaning again.
I roll over her and get ready to fuck her again. Playing her modest tits while I do so.
You roll her over and align with her pussy, then you thrust in. You even don't want to tease it with her cunt as you just want to solve your pain in the boner by putting it in. You keep thrusting her and grabbing her tits. Her leg is crossing on your waist, demanding you to go deeper.
I kiss her and tell her I love her as I push deeper into her pussy.
She replies to your kiss passionately and says she love you too. She move your hips to fit your rhythm to give you a better sensation, soon Nayeon cums and you reach your orgasm in her tightened walls when moaning her name.
When you finish your orgasm and try to pull out, her legs cramp your waist not allowing you to let go. 'Don't pull out yet, I wanna feel you a bit longer.' So you just stay in the position and hug her.
When She recovers, she starts to tease you again, and you reply passionately. You two just keep having sex for the weekend. Eat, Sex and Sleep is the only routine, and you even can't remember how many times you have cummed in her.
As the weekend finished, I was a little sad that Nayeon had to go. I gave her a hug and prepared for another week at work.
When you two wake up again is already Sunday night, it's time for Nayeon to go, You bring her to dinner and then drive her back to her home.
'I can just barely walk, honey.'
'Yeah, someone just keep telling me harder yesterday.'
Nayeon blushes and hits you lightly. 'Don't find other girls when I am not here babe, and clean the bathroom so we can take a bath together next week.'
'You already drained me Nayeon, I would only cum for you.'
Nayeon gives you a goodbye kiss and then strugglely walk away. Seeing she enters the apartment, you turn away to back home, getting ready for the new week.
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tame-the-lion-writes · 23 hours
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fae(?) bunny shifter reader x konig
I love it when konig calls reader haschen (and forgive me for not using accents on letters--I don't know how to add them on my computer). Hence why I love the idea of reader being a literal bunny (and yes--this is inspired by that one manwha I forgot the name of, but disregard that!)
There's really no sane explanation as to how Konig ended up with you in his bed. And I don't mean in a sexual way though it is hard to keep his eyes off you considering the fact that you're stark naked. As far as he knows, Konig hadn't drunk that night. Definitely didn't take any drugs. All he did was scoop up that rabbit that's been begging for food on his back porch, after he'd made friends through edible offerings. (Otherwise, the tiny rascal would be digging up his garden again.) Let it--her?--snuggle close into his side on a particularly cold night, when the first snow began to fall.
Then he blinks, and the girl is gone--replaced once again by that fluffy little thing.
Konig panics for a half second, wrenches the blankets from his bed. As if a whole human being could hide under already-flattened sheets. Once he realizes you're not there, though, he once again takes the bunny in his ginormous hands and continues to stare. Because what the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck.
Over the next few days, he doesn't dare keep the rabbit in a cage, or kick it out again. He just observes it intently like one would waiting for water to boil. But nothing ever happens when he's ready for it--the girl appears only when his back is turned, when he's exhausted. When he's blinking away sleep in the morning light. There in a flash, and gone again. He genuinely thinks he's going crazy, especially when food starts piling up in random places. The closet. Between the couch cushions. Food too big and too much for a mere bunny to move. But surely that's impossible. He's never taken to folklore or spells or--
Then he installs a camera.
"She is magic!" he once yelled, shoving the bunny in a visiting soldier's face. Meanwhile the rabbit's nose just twitches, innocent and seemingly oblivious. All he gets is a weird stare.
"Sir, I think you need to see a doctor--"
"Magic!!!"
_
Bonus Thoughts:
You're not even a stray. Not even wild. You have a cottage a little further into the woods, but your human neighbor's been awfully generous despite having caught you stealing a few times. Whatever. Free food is great. Free anything is great. Not to mention the TV and microwave, and other gadgets you've never seen before. Hence not realizing what the hell a camera does, and why he's now extra manic after he installed one in his room.
Speaking of benefits, you also no longer have to get your steps in. He carries you around in his pocket wherever he goes. So now you get to see the world, too--the farmer's market, the gas station, etc. And when you seem particularly interested in something, he buys it right away. Now you've got a little corner of trinkets from your mini-travels, all for you.
Oh, and lots of chin scratches. Pat pats. Naps in his lap because you fit there so perfectly.
Will he ever see you--live--in your human form for more than .5 seconds? Maybe. Maybe it happens in the middle of the night, when he wakes up to a weight on his chest, and your hair sprawled across his shirt. Maybe it happens, and you just give him a slow, sleepy blink, and nuzzle into the crook of his neck. Maybe he's yours now, and he hasn't realized it.
His bunny. Your man.
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xyurishux · 2 days
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CHAPTER 1 - AS A WHOLE, TOGETHER
Word Count: ~1.7k
Tags: GN!reader, Mentions of family disputes
Summary: You begin to tell Sebastian how deep UrbanShades rabbit hole truly goes, starting with yourself.
Pardon any writing errors, they may happen!
“ oh sweetie, you’re not ugly, society is,”
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“So,
When I was younger, life was as normal as can be. I was in mediocre family, it was me, my mom and my dad. I’d only see my mom in the morning, and when I was back from school my dad would be home for dinner. It wasn’t until way later I learned about his job, but that isn’t relevant right now. My dad was a mystery to me, he’s my dad but I didn’t know much to anything about him. I saw him everyday when I got home but it’s was for such a small period of time, did it even count?
Life was so mundane and repetitive. Go to school, pass tests, summer break then restart it all over again. Life was boring but it wasn’t difficult.
I would do anything to be back there…” You paused looking out into the ocean, it was dark you could mistake it for the above, only simply at night. You breathe out from your nose continuing on with your story.
 “Anyways, it was back in September of 2009 when my father got a promotion. Seeing his face 4 to 5 hours per day dwindled down to seeing him once every two weeks or so, usually on Sundays. He became an enigma.
“You see, something I couldn’t see at the time was that as I grew older, his need to be in my life lowered, and sadly, that same fate fell too with my mother by default.
His job already took a toll on their relationship. Only spending 4 to 5 hours with your partner every day over the span of five years isn’t so great.
My mother would see him as much as I did and now, he just wasn’t there. The signs of a falling relationship presented themselves beforehand, but now it was obvious to anyone that the only thing keeping them together was me. At least, for my mom that was the case.
“The house was more silent than it ever was empty…”
You looked to the side with your eyes to see Sebastians full attention on you, perhaps it was the story? Or maybe he didn’t have anything better to do or it might have been the way your voice spoke with full sincerity and no sarcasm. It was like someone else took control but it was undoubtedly you and he was fully enthralled.
Your eyes met and you looked back down at the cold tile as you carried on.
“Ether way, it was in November of that same year where things would shift. My mom would realize the steady money flowing in and at growing amounts. Now you have to understand that my mother isn’t of the suspicious type nor is she a person who comes up with wild conclusions. She was (and still is, I hope) a reasonable and sensible woman. She knew that this wasn’t a simple ‘promotion’, but to know where all this money came from, well…she didn’t have the slightest clue. She didn’t know and she would never know. Well, truly know…
“The first snow started to fall as December began and Winter break freed me from my studying. Shockingly, dad came home for the holidays and New Years. Funny anecdote, I remember getting my first iPhone as a gift from him that year. It was an iPhone 3GS, God the memories…my mother was not pleased in slightest.” You laughed silent tilting your head to the side as your reminisced, it was good and loyal phone…
 “Continuing on, after Christmas as a family and with the family the next day, my parents had the only disagreement I’ve ever witnessed (only a disagreement, it wasn’t enough to count as a fight).
I think it was about 2 am and the only light that was on was the one above the kitchen table. My dad was sitting facing my mother who standing up, the last of the family who came over for the party had finally left. Chip bowls and wine glasses were still scattered on the coffee table, only barely visible by the outside Christmas lights. I watched as my mom tapped her nails against the wooden chair she was partly leaning on as she took a deep breath. I could tell she was tired, exhausted even but I could also tell she had something bugging her and she needed to let it out. I watched them from the darkness that the staircase provided, I was undetectable. I listened to them talk, leaning my upper body to the wooden railing trying not to miss a single word. I don’t remember much; it was about the money at first but it was nothing compared to what my mother said next.”
“Samantha, look- “
“I’m breaking up with you”
“My mother broke up with my father. I sat upon the steps dumbfounded, I didn’t expect that from their conversation but even then, I didn’t know what to expect. The last of the conversation consisted of my father staying silent and staring at the table as my mom talked important matters to him. She told him that she would stay for the New Years and then move in with a friend in an apartment she found. After that she finished the glass of wine my dad poured for her at the start and left the kitchen when he didn’t have anything to add.
I’m pretty sure that night was the only time I saw my dad cry. He was still in love with her, never ever once thinking of ending their relationship. Never ever once thinking of loving another woman.
 Most children would walk down the stairs they sat on and go comfort their weeping father or at least ask if he was okay. But our relationship was so estranged to the point where I felt no reason to go down and comfort him. He simply was just my father, nothing else nothing more.
I watched him cry silently with his head in his hand as I sat on the steps with my legs close to my chest. I sat there for a few more minutes. I don’t know why I sat there watching for so long. Maybe I was intrigued with the sight, it was something new. A man I’ve know all my life was a mystery to me and now the last sight I might ever see of him is him crying his heart out. But soon enough I got tired, I walked back up to my bedroom and fell asleep to noise of the on going shower my mom was taking downstairs.
The next morning felt cold and unbalanced. The floor was cold to the touch and it was actually closer to noon then morning. The hall was silent as I walked down it and saw at the end of it that my mom was packing a suitcase and a large duffle bag. They were both placed on the bed with an equal amount of folded and unfolded clothes thrown around the two. It was enough to be unable to see the white and blue floral comforter underneath (or I remember it to be enough). I walked into the room and as if I didn’t witness the scene at the kitchen table last night I asked, “Are we going somewhere?”
She was so concentrated with her packing that she jumped startled when she heard my voice. With her hand over her heart, she turned to me with a forced smile (I knew that it was) and spoke words that I will never forget.”
“What were they?” Sebastian asked quietly, his full upper body now laying against the desk where you two sorted files on together almost an hour ago.
You smiled, “Well,
“Sweetheart! You scared me there,” She said, her smile faltering, “No, mommy is going somewhere, alone, but not forever. You’ll have to stay with dad for awhile.” She turned her head away as she folded a few pants and placed them into her suitcase. Then she squatted, and I had to look down to see her face. Her eyes were bloodshot and her lashes wet. I felt her hands on my upper arms as she continued to talk, “Mommy, mommy needs to go find herself for a bit, okay? Not for long but mommy needs this…I love you, eternally and always”
She left the same day with kiss on the forehead, her phone number seared into my mind and a “Be good while I’m gone, I’m a single phone call away”
And then I was there, at my door step, cold and watching as my mom entered her friend’s car with one last kiss blown to me. I caught it and placed it onto my cheek as she drove off. Now it was me and my estranged father and a lot of complex emotions I didn’t know how to decipher or begin to understand at the age of ten.”
You finished, pausing to take a breath for a second while also stretching your aching muscles.
“And then what? What does this have to do with us? With me?” Sebastian asked harshly as he raised himself from the desk.
“Give me a second, I need water and a snack, I’m a bit peckish,” you joked, smirking to him, before continuing, “Ether way, we’re barely getting into the meat of the story. I was just explaining how I got stuck with my father. Now will be getting into what he was doing
behind closed doors…”
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And we start rolling, ~
@splatting-stampede
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vanesycho · 5 hours
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Are you able to do a soft thoughts f!reader x Johnny? 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹 when you get the chance. No rush I promise.
I love soft Johnny so much😭 he is a very huggable person😔 thank you for your request🤍🤍
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Soft thoughts about Johnny ˘͈ᵕ˘͈
ღJohnny is someone who warms up everyone around him with his big smile. Just his looks can put you at ease. When he is with you, you can be sure that he will make the day brighter with his jokes and thoughtful thoughts. The size of his hands and his warm touches make you feel safe, just like a blanket you wrap yourself in on a cold day.
ღHis laughter is contagious. He can make you laugh heartily even on the worst day when he is with you. He has a voice that seems to take away all your stress. When you are on a long walk with him, watching the clouds in the sky and having a slow conversation, everything feels calmer and more peaceful.
ღHe is someone you will always feel comfortable with. If you are someone who is shy to go out in public, Johnny is perfect for that. He always makes you fit in, makes you feel comfortable. He notices when you are uncomfortable in a place and makes you have a better time alone.
ღHis hugs can be the best thing in the world. He always makes you feel warm. He does not hesitate to wrap his arms around you tightly, and although he is afraid of hurting you by squeezing too hard, he cannot control himself. Especially if you are going through a bad time, his warm hugs can make you forget everything.
ღHe loves to cook, if he wakes up earlier than you in the morning, you can find him in the kitchen already. He will give you a warm smile, approach you, kiss your forehead and hug you. He will whisper in your ear with his calm voice "Good morning baby, did you sleep well? I am preparing you the best breakfast you will ever eat, just wait a little bit."
ღI don't know why but he seems like someone who sings for no reason. When he comes in, he will hum a song and then his voice will rise, if you join him he will reach out his hand and make you do a little dance show. Finally he will pull you to him and kiss you on the lips and end your little concert with that.
As the song ended, Johnny looked into your eyes and kissed you romantically. His kisses were like the last note of the song, sweetly completing the moment. "That was the best part of the song."
ღHe seems like the kind of person who will tell you ridiculous stories before going to bed. Sometimes he will tell you the story of how you two met as a love story and you listen to it with a smile on your face every time "And that was the day the eternal love of the two main characters began..." when he realizes you are asleep halfway through the story he will give you a light kiss and mumble goodnight. But sometimes he can tell you the most ridiculous thing in the world, like a story about aliens and dinosaurs fighting.
"One day, the dinosaur commander, a T-Rex, targeted the aliens' base using a huge laser gun." You listened to him, unable to hold back your laughter. "...And just like that, the dinosaurs and the aliens never fought again. Because now both sides knew how bad ice cream was."
ღHe is good with words. He can give you the best advice and compliments, makes you feel better with small touches. He never hesitates to show his love, even if he doesn't say words of love to you, you can tell everything from the look in his eyes. The brightness of his eyes, the small smile on his lips, the small nods that show he listens to every word.
ღHe's really good at flirting. At first you thought he was a playboy but you realized he only acts like that because he really loves you, he doesn't talk to anyone else like that. He squeezes in some flirty sentences while talking and then continues talking as if nothing happened, leaving you surprised.
As he walks around the library with you, he looks at you who you were excitedly looking for the book you love. “You’re so cute, these books must make you feel excited, just like I feel when I'm with you you.” You looked at him in surprise, but he picked up a book without even looking at you. “Oh look, here’s the book you’re looking for. Let’s go, I’ll buy it for you.”
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nino-rox · 13 hours
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KEEHO x Male Bottom Reader | S
Content Warning : NSFW Gay Smut, sexual themes, Top Keeho and Bottom Male Reader, unprotected sex (please use protection)
Disclaimer : This is a Fan-fiction story written for entertainment purposes only, no part of the story implies or affirms anything regarding real world events or individuals. Please be of the appropriate age ( i.e, Adult as per your country’s stipulations and regulations) before interacting with this post
(NOT PROOF READ)
My eyes were still tired, even though the sun was beaming through the blinds. I had the worst headache ever and felt so sick, as if I were in a hangover.
I groaned, turning on my side to grab a pillow, an action that unexpectedly hurt. My whole body ached. I slowly opened my eyes, looking over to the window, I squinted my eyes, as I felt an arm drape over my side.
What?
I looked over and saw an unfamiliar figure lying in bed beside me.
A man?
I blinked.
This has to be a dream.
I rubbed my eyes and turned around, the pain from my bottom made me gasp.
My stomach dropped, I didn't have a single clue what happened last night. I remembered going to a frat party with a couple of friends and then...
Oh god.
I had sex with him, didn't I?
The realization came to me like a wave.
How much did I drink last night?
I had a feeling I would never remember.
I was naked, the other man was also naked, and he was so close to me that I could smell his sweet scent. We were both now laying facing each other as he slept soundly.
He looked peaceful, and honestly, he was kind of crazy hot, but I had no idea who this was or why he was in my bed.
I tried to wake him up but was too scared to shake him.
I slowly removed his arm from me and got out of bed. I looked down and winced at the pain, my thighs were covered in purple and blue hickies and my bottom had the same coloring, only, they were bigger and redder.
I sighed and turned around to find my phone. It was on the nightstand. I went to grab it but accidentally bumped into the table, causing the lamp to fall off and the other man to jump awake.
I yelped, and we both froze, staring at each other.
I felt the blood rush to my cheeks as I realized that he had a morning wood.
The man sat up, the blanket falling off his body and landing on floor.
We continued to stare at each other, unable to move or say anything.
"How was your night sexy?" He finally asked.
I hesitated, "Oh, uhm...,” his very visible hard on wasn’t helping. I didn’t know what to say or what to do.
The other man chuckled, "Don't tell me you don't remember. You were pretty drunk last night.
"Did we-"
"Fuck? Yeah, you were quite loud. I don't think your neighbors will be very happy about it."
I didn't know what to say.
"Do you not remember?"
I shook my head, "No."
"Damn, I wanted you to remember," the other man sighed, "well, since we both woke up like this, why don't we help each other out? Help you remember,” he said smirking, "come back to bed."
"Wait-"
But before I could finish, the other man grabbed my hand and pulled me back into bed.
I gasped as he kissed me, his lips were so soft, and the feeling of his warm tongue exploring my mouth sent shivers down my spine.
He pinned me down and I could feel his morning wood rub against me.
He smirked at my reaction, "you’re so hard, you want more, huh? Then let's have some more fun," he whispered, and started kissing my neck. As if instinctively, I tilted my head, and the man started biting and licking the spot where he did last night, making me moan.
"You liked it here right?" he mumbled, "I could tell by how loud you were screaming."
I moaned as he continued kissing and biting my neck, his arm snaking its way to my cock as the other grabbed my hair, pulling it and exposing my neck even more.
My body just gave in, getting turned on by the other man and letting him do whatever he wanted, as my arms wrapped around his neck.
He started stroking my dick as he rubbed his own against me.
"Mmm," he moaned, "I want to fuck you, lets go for round 2 baby? Huh?" he said as he bit my ear, "let me hear you say it."
I moaned, "yes, fuck me please."
He smiled, "that's what I like to hear," and kissed me. He let go of my dick and inserted his fingers into my mouth, "suck."
I looked at him but obeyed, and he continued stroking himself with his other hand.
I sucked his fingers and he removed them from my mouth and placed one of them at my hole.
He looked up at me and grinned, "ready?"
I nodded and he inserted one finger, and another.
I moaned as he scissored his fingers, stretching me, and began stroking his own cock. “Fuck baby you’re still loose from last night. You ready to take me now? Huh?"
I could only nod, my mind was in a daze.
"Then come milk me baby, you did such a good job last night, and now, I want to see you do it again."
I couldn't believe that this was happening. I didn't even know the man's name, yet, I was already moaning beneath him, waiting to take his cock.
He lined his cock at my hole and slowly slid in, and I groaned at the sensation.
He thrusted into me and we both moaned. He continued thrusting and I moved my hips, matching his rhythm.
"Fuck," he groaned, "you feel so fucking good."
He lifted my legs and put them on his shoulders, his cock hitting a different angle, and I couldn't help but scream, "oh fuck, oh fuck, don't stop, don't stop, mmm fuck,"
"I won't stop," the other man moaned, "but tell me your name."
I whimpered, "Y/N, and yours?"
"Keeho," he said, his thrusts becoming faster and deeper, "you like that ? Want me yo go faster Y/N?."
I moaned, "Ah AH, oh god, yes."
He grinned, "such a naughty boy."
He pulled out, making me whine, but then flipped me around and entered me again, and I screamed.
He gripped my hips, his thrusts becoming more aggressive, his skin slapping against mine, as he grunted.
I could feel myself cumming, "oh fuck Keeho, I'm gonna-"
"Not yet," he growled, and he slowed his pace, and started rubbing my nipples.
I moaned, as he bit my ear, "you gonna be good for me?,” he said as he groaned into my ear, and started pinching and pulling my nipples.
I could only whimper.
"Answer me."
"Yes."
"You want to cum?"
"Yes."
"Want me to fill you up?"
"Please."
"I'm almost there baby, but not yet."
Keeho continued thrusting slowly, making sure that the head of his cock hit my prostate with every thrust, and his fingers played with my nipples.
My body was on fire, his rod stretching you out, as it went in and out, his hot breath on my neck, and the way he was teasing my nipples were driving me crazy.
I couldn't take it anymore, "Keeho, I-,"
"Now," he moaned.
His hands left my nipples and he gripped my waist, his cock sliding out, and then entering, and he continued to fuck me hard, making me scream.
"Y/N, fuck," Keeho moaned.
I could feel him cum inside me, as I orgasmed.
I fell on the bed and he collapsed on top of me, breathing heavily.
"You are so sexy," he said, his voice still husky, "I could fuck you again."
“Let’s.”
Keeho kissed me, and we laid in bed, holding each other.
He smiled, his eyes sparkling, "I want to see you again," he whispered, his fingers tracing my chest, "would you be interested in seeing me again?"
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measuredingold · 10 hours
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more cuddling with noah, but written properly 🥲 very short so i’m not considering this a fic so no word count and will probably tag this as a headcanon <3 anyways enjoy
cw/tw: fluff fluff fluff that’s literally it
A sigh from the top of the stairs breaks you out of your doom scrolling, eyes looking up from your phone to find Noah already staring at you.
His brows were furrowed and lips set in a deep frown, and the bags under his eyes made it clear he's been up a lot longer than you realized. Your eyes drop to your phone again to check the time, finding yourself frowning that it's well into the evening, and this is your first time seeing Noah since breakfast.
You look up. "Hi baby."
He sighs again before trudging down the steps, and you can practically see the heaviness of whatever is on his mind weighing on him. You shift on the couch to get in a much more comfortable position, back pressed into the cushions, and your arms opening once Noah gets closer to you. He gently falls onto you with a groan before wrapping his arms around your middle the best he can.
"Hi." He mumbles, face burying against the crook of your neck. One of your hands immediately finds a way to his hair, fingers carding through it while the other rests on his back.
"What's up?"
You feel his body slowly start to melt into yours, burrowing himself closer to you. You shiver at the feeling of his hands sliding up under your shirt, cool to the touch.
"Can't get this one part right." His voice is muffled against your neck and you can barely understand him, but don't bother moving him. You know this is the first time all day he's been semi-relaxed. "Pissing me off."
"Take a break, honey."
"I am." Noah groans. "Right now. Gimme like... 10 minutes, then I'll head back up."
You laugh softly, scratching at his scalp gently before smoothing down his hair. "You need a much longer break than that. How long have you been at it?"
"Uh..." It takes much longer for him to respond, brain probably fried from staring at his screen for so long. "Sometime this morning?"
"I figured that much. You were working before I even got up."
"Needed to get a head start on it." He yawns loudly then and tries to snuggle his body closer to yours, fingers digging into the skin at your sides.
"You can work on it tomorrow." You can't stop the frown forming on your lips, hand running up and down his back. "When was the last time you ate something?"
"...This morning."
"Noah."
"I knooow." It comes out as a whine and you can't help but laugh again, turning your head to press a kiss to the side of his head. "I forgot. Too caught up in the song. I didn't realize how much time had passed until like, 30 minutes ago."
"Want me to make you something? Or takeout?"
Another long moment of silence follows your question, and you think briefly that maybe he had already fallen asleep, the exhaustion catching up to him. Eventually you hear him make a noise and wiggle his body closer to yours, nose pressing against the base of your neck.
"...Takeout?"
"We can do that. Chinese?" Noah nods against you. "Want me to order it now?"
"In a second." He sighs out and you can't help but shiver at the feeling of his breath against your neck. "I just wanna lay here for a while longer."
You practically melt at his words and your hand drops from his hair to wrap your arms around him fully. You wish it was under better circumstances, but you loved whenever he was in one of these moods. Where he needed to be as close to you as possible, practically needing to live in your skin to feel somewhat sane. You squeeze him to your chest, feeling him try to wiggle his way closer to you.
"Whatever you want, my love."
He practically purrs at that and your face flushes when you feel the brush of his lips against your skin.
"Thank you." He murmurs in response before relaxing against your chest again, letting out a deep sigh you think he's been holding in.
You don't say anything, just squeeze him tighter to you as you both lay there in silence, basking in the comfort of each other.
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hopelesswrites · 2 days
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Book Club 3
Part 1 Part 2
Joseph Quinn X Fem!Reader
-Your book club best friend flakes on helping you move, but sends the son she's been trying to set you up with
-
It had been almost a week, and you could not forget Joe like you did the last time. His face kept flashing in your mind like a bad nightmare. You went to sleep over analysing your last conversation.
It didn’t help that Joe was becoming a bigger face in the media, you saw him everywhere. That was also added to the list of reasons why you couldn’t date Joe, how were you going to date the hottest new actor right now. The thought of people talking about you online just through association was mortifying.
It’s as if the more you told yourself no, the more you wanted him. It was a cruel manipulative trick your brain was playing on you, you felt deceived by your own brain.
On top of all this dreadful thinking you also were expected to move flats this weekend. Not a single box had been packed. You had sent Mary a small text earlier that morning fussing about your stressful weekend ahead and she promised to come around and help you sort your stuff into boxes on the Saturday.
-
Another sleepless night of haunting images of Joe’s gorgeous face left you groggy the next morning. You inspected the place; your flatmate had left you alone for the awkward move out. This tenancy wasn’t the easiest and you both were waiting for your time to find your own place.
Slowly you woke up with a cup of coffee, leisurely flipping through books you easily collected in your short time here to put away when you had more energy. A knock at the door had you perking up, Mary said bright and early but you didn’t think she meant first light (it was 11am).
You called out a quick ‘coming’ before dropping the books gently down in the box, you’ll play tetris with them later.
You shuffled over to the door not worried about being in your pyjamas and slippers around Mary, opening the door without a second thought. Stood there was Joe, you looked around him confused, heat rising to your ears at the realization of what is happening here.
“Mums sent me to help” Joe spoke, equally as awkward.
“She get caught up?” You ask, stepping aside to let Joe in.
“So she says” Joe replied a weak laugh punctuating his statement.
You let out a long sigh, “I swear, I love her so much, but she’s ridiculous”
“you’ve got to get a boyfriend, so she’ll stop” Joe joked, stepping inside and toeing off his shoes.
You scoff, “Why do I have to? You get a girlfriend”
“I’m trying” Joe looked around your living room at the empty boxes you had splayed out.
“How much are you moving?” He asked, picking up one of the books you had just been looking at and flipping it over to read the back.
“Bedroom and most kitchen stuff” You answered, watching him carefully. You already felt weird about having him in your home, but now he’ll be going through your stuff? Mary had officially crossed a line.
“Right then, where should we start?” Joe clapped his hands, clearly done with the small talk.
You directed Joe to the kitchen where you instructed him to pack up all the pots and pans, as well as the plates, bowls and cups. In your bedroom you folded your clothes neatly into your one large suitcase and filled boxes with books. It was peaceful and far less anxiety inducing having Joe busy in the kitchen. The sound of pans clashing together in boxes and crockery being wrapped up filled your ears and you deemed it safe to open your drawer of delicates. Humming to yourself you neatly organised sets of lacy underwear and bras that barely get to see the light of day, not noticing the pause on pots and pans clashing and the shuffling of feet approaching your room.
“Am I doing the glassware as-“
“Fuck Joe!” You cried, stuffing the thong you were holding back into its drawer and slamming it shut.
“Sorry” Joe mumbled looking down at his feet, a teasing smirk on his face. You chose to ignore it.
“Glassware?” He tried again.
“Um, only the wine glasses” You sighed, following him out to the kitchen. You observed the work he had done, almost all of it was in its respective box now.
“You can probably go after that; I can handle the rest.”
You were far from calm now, utterly mortified having the man you have just accepted you now fancy see your lacy underwear. Mary had made a hard task more difficult by sending Joe here and you were ready to be done with him.
“I thought I was taking it all over to your new flat?” Joe asked confused. He was bent down, organising a box giving you the best view of his ass. Why did he have such a nice ass?
“That’s fine, ill get an uber XL”
Joe stood up and faced you, hands on his hips. “Don’t be ridiculous, I’ll never mention what I just saw, we can finish this job together and get you moved in”
You stared at him for a moment, analysing the situation.
“Come on, what’s next? I’ll do the books.”
Books was dangerous, books were in your room, meaning Joe would have to pack alongside you, and your underwear drawer.
You led him to your bookshelf with two empty boxes. “Just stack them as tightly as possible”
Before opening up the drawer you were previously packing you looked over to make sure Joe was occupied on his own side of the room. You made quick work of more embarrassing things to pack and moved onto the rest of your clothes, your suitcase slowly filling up.
“Have you read this one?” Joe asked holding up a book for you to see.
“Yes” you answered shortly.
“How about this one?” Another book was held up in the air.
“Yep”
You watched him put it in the box and pick up another one, this one displaying a large image of a mans naked torso.
“Yes, I’ve read that one too” you spoke before he could hold up the book.
Joe chuckled, placing it in the box with the others. “For the book club?”
“Not those ones” you answered, heat rising to your face, you didn’t need to be having this conversation with Joe right now.
“I bet mum would like that one, what was it called? Dark Passion”
“Your mums not keen on romance”
Joe faced you a shocked look on his face, “That was a romance? Could have fooled me, looked a bit more like a smut book”
You laughed at his dramatics “There’s elements of romance in there”
“Barely” Joe responded quietly, his distant tone catching your attention. You looked over to see him immersed in a page you knew, just from the place in the book, was particularly nasty.
“Hey! Stop that!” You scolded, trying to snatch the book out of his hands but he turned away, holding the book in the air as he continued to read.
“His chain fell above her face, rocking back and forth as his thrusts grew harder and faster” Joe stopped, looking over to you “Jesus Christ, id hope my mum wasn’t reading this”
“Close the book please” You whined, ready to wrap the scarf you were holding around Joes neck and end your own suffering.
“Okay, sorry” Joe chuckled to himself, putting it back in the box.
The next hour consisted of you working around Joe to pack the rest of your belongings. You filled his car with your many boxes and did a final sweep of the flat you were so happy to be leaving.
“You didn’t leave your flatmate much to cook with” Joe said, doing his own rounds of the space for anything he may have forgotten.
“Good, she doesn’t deserve it” You scoffed, taking your final bag of clothes and linen and making your way to the door.
“Not a great first flat share experience then?” Joe asked, following you out to his car. You shoved the last bag in the back seat, with a bit of a struggle, and joined him in the car.
“It was an arrangement made out of desperation” You answered.
Joe nodded in understanding and began the drive to your new flat. You had moved a little further out of the city this time, purely due to affordability. One bad flat share does leave a person scarred and the idea of another one didn’t sound all that exciting. You figured this would be the perfect opportunity to start your own little life here in London.
Your new place was a small run down one bedroom unit in a quiet part of town. Joe described it as a retirement village and assured you it was safe and quiet.
“I live pretty close by” Joe added as he was placing a light box in your arms to walk up the two flights of stairs.
Just your luck.
You could already hear Mary, “Joe can pop over to do all your maintenance jobs” in that ‘I’m finally getting my way’ tone of hers.
Inside you dropped your boxes in the small kitchen space. The flat came with appliances and a bed so you were practically all set with what you brought with you, just needed a couch and television.
“This is pretty nice” Joe exclaimed as he walked through the open door with your last box. “I just spoke to a neighbour by the way, lovely lady, she’s baking you brownies apparently”
“Oh, Margie, yeah I spoke to her when I inspected the place, I think she put in a request for me to get the lease”
Joe offered you a puzzled look. “You really have a way with older women, don’t you?”
You laughed at his accusation, “I have an aura apparently”
“Old lady aura” Joe scoffed.
You looked up at Joe, ready to thank him and bid him goodbye. It felt bittersweet, realising that today hadn’t been as horrible as you expected, and that you had actually enjoyed your time with him.
“What are you doing for dinner?” Joe blurted out before you could get a word of thanks in.
You returned him a puzzled look.
“I mean, you don’t have any furniture, why don’t you come out and we get a pint and some dinner” Joe offered, eyebrows raised in suggestion.
You went to reject Joes offer but he stopped you again.
“As friends, honestly, mum didn’t put me up to this. Just get dinner with me”
You considered your options. It was either a pub feed with Joe or Chinese on the floor while you unpacked your wardrobe.
“My shout though, for helping me today”
Joe smiled wide, “Great, there was a nice looking place down the road, happy hour special”
You followed him out the door to start your walk to the pub and reminded yourself:
Friends
Dinner
That’s it.  
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Window of Opportunity 
Frankie Morales fanfiction x f! reader 
Summary: Years spent with the wrong guy leaves you desperate for true love and single again. Will Frankie be able to squeeze into the window of opportunity and confess his feelings, or will he miss his shot again?
Warnings: swearing, deadbeat boyfriend, talks of infidelity, drinking, friends to lover’s, fluff, kissing 
Picture is just for the banner, does not indicate readers appearance.
Word Count: 6k+ 
“Alright it’s Thirsty Thursday guys, what can I get you?” You say with a smile spread across your face, staring at your favourite customers and some of your best friends, Santi, Will, Benny and Frankie. They themselves have been coming into this bar for 6 years, after they were all discharged from the army and relocated to Fort Lauderdale. You’ve worked at this bar for almost 8 years now, having gotten the job in your mid-twenties to make some extra cash. It was only supposed to be temporary but here you are all these years later, still with an apron wrapped around your waist, a pen tucked behind your ear and shuffling around behind the old wood bar, illuminated by the neon beer signs. 
Santi offers you a kind wink as he settles onto the bar stool across from you, “Just a Rum and Coke sweetheart.” His effervescent smile shining as bright as always.  
Nodding, you begin to make the drink, while Benny and Will offer up their orders. Finally, Frankies sweet brown eyes meet yours and your lungs feel a bit lighter. “And what about our pilot?” you ask sweetly.  
He grins just enough for some of his teeth to peek out below his mustache and tucks his hand under his chin, “Surprise me Skip.”  
Smirking, you begin to whip him up your favourite and slide it over to him on the bar.  
Taking it, he smiles, “Should’ve guessed it’d be a Whisky Sour.” 
“Hey, pick your own drinks if you don’t like my favourite.” You say with a huffed laugh, knowing that despite them not being his type of drink, he’ll sip it down anyway. “How has your week been?” 
“Good, picked up Camila from JK on Monday so now she’s with me until next week Friday morning. She’s having some much-needed Abuela time right now.” 
“That’s good, everything still good with Liv?” You ask intently. 
He shrugs, “Yeah I’d say so, we’re doing pretty well at the whole coparenting thing now that negotiations are over.”  
You reach over and pat his hand that rests on the bar top, “Good, you’re a good dad Frankie. I’m glad you’re able to enjoy her again.”  
His ears and cheeks grow red, and his eyes soften, he whispers to you, “Thanks Skip, couldn’t do it without you.”  
Pulling your lips into a tight smile, you bat your lashes a bit to relax and turn your attention back to the rest of the group, “So, Will, how was the trip? Did you pick a venue?” 
Will nods, “Yeah, Orange County is really beautiful. It was tough picking just one place to have the wedding at, but we put a deposit down on a winery, so now we have a date which is great.” He says with a smile plastered across his face.  
“Oh, that’s great, Wendy must be so excited. Especially since it can be so close to her family.” You say before you notice the server drop down some chits on the other end of the bar. “Oh, I’ll be back guys.” You say before departing down the bar to work on the new orders.  
Later, you are standing cutting limes in front of the men, talking and laughing causally when the bell on the door chimes again. You look up, seeing your boyfriend Marcus step through the door and scan the room for you. The rest of the group turn their heads slightly to see what has caught your attention.  
Frankie grumbles to himself as he peers over his drink to see your boyfriend strutting towards the bar. His overbuilt muscles and $50 hair cut speak volumes about his personality. “Why’s Marcus here?” 
Will nudges his shoulder with a shush, Frankies eyes widen slightly realizing his voice was a tad bit higher than it should have been. Luckily for him, you had already moved down the bar towards Marcus. “He’s here to see his girlfriend, idiot. Why wouldn’t he be here?” Will says sarcastically.  
“He only visits her at work when he needs money.” Frankie states matter-of-factly under his breath.  
“That’s none of your business man, play nice.”  
With that Frankie rolls his eyes and stares Santi down the bar with an annoyed look on his face. Santi nods and takes his hint. Standing from the stool he calls over to you, “Hey Skip, we’re gonna be at the pool table.” The rest of them follow his lead and stand with their drinks to head over to the other side of the room.  
You nod and smile at them before turning your attention back to Marcus.  
“Why do they call you Skip anyway?” Marcus asks, leaning his body weight on the bar top.  
You shrug and smile to yourself, “One time, they were the only ones in the bar, like it was completely dead, and so we played Uno. The guys were such assholes every time it was one of their turns before me, they played a skip card. I swear I got every skip a turn card the whole night.” You say, laughing slightly until you see the utterly unamused face of your boyfriend staring back at your explanation. Swallowing your laughter quickly you clear your throat, “Um, and so yeah, they just call me Skip now because of uh…’cuz of that.”  
His face hangs low with uninterest, “Huh, guess you didn’t get many tips that night huh?” 
Pulling your face tight you reply, “No, I guess not.” 
“Does that happen often? Maybe you should find a different place to work where you can make more money.”  
“Um, no it doesn’t happen a lot. I think there was a storm that day.” You say quietly before stepping to the side to grab your wallet. “So, uh- how much did you say you needed for this football thing again?” 
He rolls his eyes exasperated, “Babe, it’s my fraternity brothers NFL fantasy league, it’s not just some football thing. And the buy in is $200.”  
Your eyebrows pop up, “Geeze, that’s kind of steep, isn’t it?”  
“It’s not about that, it’s about the networking I do with it, alright?” Marcus says. 
Nodding, you hand him the cash from your wallet, and he takes it with a giant smile, “Thanks babe, you’re the best you know that right?” He says before leaning across the bar and planting a kiss on your cheek.  
You say your goodbyes and wipe your sweaty hands on your jeans, letting out a deep breath you didn’t realize you were holding.  
Across the room, Frankie watches you fidget after your uncomfortable meeting with your boyfriend. He stands near the pool table holding his stick standing straight up and leaning some weight on it. “What is she still doing with that guy?” He asks the group. 
Benny huffs, “Wish I knew. Every time we hang out it’s always Marcus did this, and Marcus won’t do that. It’s like she’s his mom”  
Will steps up to the table and leans forward to take his shot, “He seriously doesn’t mind the two of you hanging out as much as you do?” 
“Nope, she even asked him before the first time we went to the movies if it was okay, and the guy is so fucking full of himself he said there’s no way she would ever find better than him, so he doesn’t worry about her cheating at all. In fact, one time he even thanked me for “listening to all her bull shit” so he doesn’t have to.” He says with air quotes and a sarcastic tone. 
Santi shakes his head, “What a dick. Why won’t she just end it with him?” 
Benny steps up to the red-felt pool table and eyes his shot that his brother has set up for him by accident. “Oh, she’s still holding out hope that he’ll man up and pop the question and then things will be better. Not gonna happen though, I think he’s cheating.”  
With that Frankie straightens up, “Why do you say that?” 
“He’s shady as shit, she works evenings and a lot of weekends, you think an asshole like that is really just waiting around for her watching Game of Thrones by himself every night?” 
“So, you don’t have any proof then?” Will comments. 
“Well, don’t tell her I told you this. But a few months ago, she got a DM from a girl that she knows, claiming he was hitting on her at a bar across town. But this girl knew Skip and recognized him from her social media, so she turned him down and messaged her. When Skip asked him about it, he said he wasn’t hitting on her, he was just trying to make some female friends, since you know, she has so many male friends.” he says, pointing around the pool table at the group of them and shaking his head at the obvious lie.  
They all groan in response and look over at you at the bar, working tirelessly to pay for yourself and your deadbeat boyfriends’ lifestyle. All the while he’s probably sneaking around behind your back and then dipping in to steal a kiss and some cash. 
 
Behind the bar, you stare blankly at the faucet on the sink, seeing your angled reflection in it. Your face looks sad, your eyes tired and your heart sunken. All you want, all you’ve ever wanted, was a relationship, an engagement, a marriage, a house and a family. It’s what you grew up in, it’s what your sister has. The white picket fence, the husband that kisses her at the door when he gets home, the two beautiful children she chases around all day. In your early twenties, it seemed like something that was guaranteed. Then it was just disappointing man after another until you finally found yourself on a date with Marcus 6 years ago. He was handsome and charming, and after a year you settled into a nice routine. But year after year you asked for a ring and never got one. One thing you could control was the house, so you saved everything you had to buy both of you one, thinking that would kickstart the conversation again. Yet here you are, a cold finger and your love for a man long gone, but 6 years too long invested in the relationship to bow out now.  
Grabbing a washcloth, you decide to take out your frustrations through cleaning up the bar top, using all the bent-up anger you felt towards your life to scrub off that damn stain you’ve never been able to get off. You peer up through your lashes and see the guys at the pool table, seemingly in deep discussion. You wonder if they’re shit talking your boyfriend. You wouldn’t blame them if they were, you wish you could join them. Frankie rounds the table and bends over to take his shot. His t shirt stretching across his broad shoulders, his curly locks peeking out from underneath the baseball hat you loved to see him in. Frankie, a man who actually talked about wanting a marriage one day but lost it all when his girlfriend fell in love with someone at work. He says they were mostly together for their child that they had accidentally gotten pregnant with and that he could move on. Not seeing his baby girl every day was by far the hardest part for him.  
Frankie was different than the others to you. Santi was your advice guy, always offering his words of wisdom. Will was your hands on guy. Need your breaks done on your car? Will’s got it. Need an Ikea cabinet put together? Will’s on it. Benny is your bestie, your movie and sushi date guy. Your talk shit about your boyfriend guy. But Frankie, Frankie is your if things were different guy. If you weren’t with Marcus, if he was ever even interested in you. Maybe, he could be something more, just by the way you talk so earnestly with one another, you knew he would never treat you the way Marcus does. And boy was he cute. You wish you felt bad when you would find yourself thinking about him late at night instead of your boyfriend laying a foot away from you. You figure after his failed relationship he is probably done with anything serious, maybe just date casually for the next few years and then settle down with someone as a companion. Surely, he wouldn’t be interested in learning about how lovesick you are over him and ruining your friendship and his favourite hangout-. 
A hand suddenly grabs yours to hold it still as you look up and see Frankie looking at you with concerned eyes. You look back down at the bar and see that during your whole internal monologue, you had still been scrubbing the stain and now the pain in your wrist was starting to register just how aggressive you were being with it. Pulling your hand out of his grip you toss the rag into the bucket and slowly rub your wrist with your hand, avoiding eye contact with the man across from you.  
He breathes deeply out of his nose and grabs some of the paper towel you have on the counter to wipe up the soap and water on the spot. He pulls a half smirk and looks at you, “Looks like you finally got that stain huh?”  
You peer over and see that it is indeed gone, certainly needed some elbow grease.  
“You okay?” he asks. The very last question you want to answer right now.  
Doing your best impression of a girl who is going to be okay, you nod and suck your teeth before muttering out, “Yeah, yeah just, - really fucking hated that stain.”  
Frankie can see the tears that want to spill over your eyes, knowing you the way he does, he knows very well that you do not want to lose it right there behind the bar. “Alright well, could I get another delicious Whisky Sour please?” he says with a boyish grin on his face. 
Looking up at him through your lashes you let out a chuckle, “I thought you didn’t like them.”  
“People change.” He states.  
His words dry your throat, and you do your best to nod and go on making his drink. Hoping his statement to be true.  
The night wears on and you say your goodbyes. You close up shop and head home to Marcus, playing every moment of the night through again in your head and hoping to make that people change statement a reality, whether it be you or Marcus.  
Sunday is your day off, and you and the guys planned a backyard BBQ at Will and Wendys to commemorate the end of summer. 
Frankie steps through the patio doors into the backyard. A red and white striped umbrella is stretched out over the patio table and chairs where Santi is seated comfortably talking with Wendy while Will works on the grill. He moves to sit down across from Santi and says hello to everyone.  
Wendy excuses herself to go work on the salad for dinner, and Frankie stares at the door she exits through, hoping you may come through it. Alas, you still don’t show up after another ten minutes, so he turns to Santi. 
“When are uh, Ben and Skip getting here?” Frankie asks, urging his voice to sound less eager than it does.  
Santi gives him a knowing look, “Ben told Will yesterday they may be a bit late cuz Ben had to go out of town this afternoon to pick up some stuff from their moms, she went with him for the drive.”  
Frankie nods and brings his cold beer to his lips, excited at the notion that Marucs won’t be joining them after all.  
A half hour later, Frankie, Santi and Will are seated at the patio table as Wendy finishes up in the kitchen. Their attention is pulled from their conversation when they hear Bennys boisterous voice call out to her as he moves through the kitchen and to the sliding patio door.  
“No Skip?” Santi calls out, as he notices Bennys lonely walk towards them. Frankie and Will look up from their plates of appetizers to observe your apparent absence for themselves. 
The younger man has a surprisingly pleased look on his face as he slides into the chair next to Will. “You’re never gonna believe this. They broke up.” He states with excitement burning behind his eyes.  
The group looks perplexed for a beat, Will asks to clarify “Who broke up?” 
“Skip and Marcus.” Benny says, popping his eyebrows up and down and nudging Frankie’s shoulder.  
Frankie’s eyes blow wide, unable to believe what he was hearing. His ears ring and before he knows it, he’s lost part of the conversation, gripping his beer bottle tighter he tries to focus on the flow of questions coming Bennys way from Will and Santi. 
Santi leans forward on the glass tabletop, “What happened?” 
“She finally had enough. I guess she tried to talk to him again last night about getting engaged and just like all the other times, he made up shitty excuses, so she dumped him right there on the spot. Took all her shit and is staying with her sister right now until they get the house sold and her money back. She called me this morning to tell me she couldn’t come today.” 
“How’s she doing? She okay?” Will asks, concern growing in his voice.  
Shrugging, Benny replies, “As good as she can be, I think. They were together a long time, and she feels like it was all wasted. He’s such a jackass.” He says before shoving some chips from a bowl on the table into his mouth. 
Will glances at Frankie, “So Fish, girl of your dreams finally single. What do you think about that?”  
His eyebrows almost get caught in his hair line and he stutters, “I uh- what. Don’t know what you’re talking about Will.” he says, trying to slurp down his beer before he puts his foot in his mouth instead. 
Shaking his head he dives deeper, “Don’t give me that shit man, we owe nothing to that guy. You’ve always liked her, you’ve been respectful, but now she’s fair game.”  
Santi nods along, “Yeah, we all know man. It’s pretty obvious.” 
Benny and Will nod along to Santis’ statement as Frankie looks around flabbergasted. “Seriously? Does she know?” 
“Nah, I don’t think so. She’s been too caught up in her own shit to notice.” Benny confirms.  
“But now’s the time to make a move, alright? Don’t let the window of opportunity close. Girls like that don’t stay single long.” Santi comments, giving Frankie a stern look.  
Frankie nods, “I can’t just ask her out the day after her relationship ended, she needs time to process this. I don’t want to be a rebound. I’ll let her sell the house, get her shit together, and then I promise I’ll talk to her.” He says defensively.  
“You better, because I’m not listening to her complain about another shitty boyfriend for half a decade.” Benny says, tapping his hand on the table and peering up at the sky, thinking about all the nights he’s had to hear you cry about how Marcus wouldn’t commit to you, even your house was bought by you, him not wanting to invest too much of his savings in case it didn’t work out between the two of you.  
“I don’t think any of us want to see her go through that again, and Frankie man, you’d be perfect together. I hope it works out for you.” Will says, reaching over to pat Frankie on the chest.  
Frankie nods, “How do I do this without looking like a total jackass who just wants to take advantage of her vulnerable state though?” he asks inquisitively.  
Santi shakes his head, “Frankie, Frankie, always counting yourself out before you get in the game. Any girl would be lucky to get a man like you, just have some faith in yourself alright?” 
Before they can continue the conversation, Wendy waltzes up to the table with salads in tow. “Alright everybody, time to dig in.” 
Thursday comes around again; you have switched shifts with the other bartender for a very exciting reason. Each of the guys had reached out in their own ways after they got the news on Sunday, simple texts and calls here and there, all trying to be as delicate as possible. 
Skipping through the door, you make your way over to the booth the guys are situated at. Santi spots you first and gestures to you for the rest of the group to turn and look. They all grin when they see your smile, your hair done exactly how you like it best, a white sundress with brown flowers and brown sandals finishing off the look. Frankies eyes light up seeing your sunny appearance and blossoming self-confidence.  
“Whoa, what are you all dressed up for?” Santi whistles, taking in your ensemble. 
Smiling brightly, you stand in front of the booth and state, “I have a date.”  
Their faces drop entirely, and Frankie can swear you could hear his heart fall to the floor and roll down between the booths like a child dropping candy in church.  
Will is the first to pick his jaw up from his chest and stutter out, “A date?”  
Nodding you reply, “Yep, I’m meeting him soon for drinks and appetizers but I needed to swing by here first for my pay cheque.”  
Santi waves his hands casually in the air as he formulates a question. “Don’t you think that’s a little soon, I mean, you and Marcus broke up last week.”  
“I know, I know trust me I’ve heard it already from my sister. But I’m not really grieving the relationship ‘cuz to be honest, I fell out of love with Marcus a long time ago, but I just had already invested all that time and energy, so I wanted to make it work. But, since he’s a total asshat, I have now had no choice but to move on and there’s no time like the present. I don’t want to have wasted 6 years with him and then 6 months waiting for the “right time” to start dating again and then another 2 years trying to meet the right person.” You take a deep breath, trying not to get too worked up over your current situation and pinch your eyes closed for a moment. “I just want…. All I’ve wanted this whole time is a marriage and a family and I’m frankly running out of time. So, I hopped on the dating apps and met this guy Sean, and now we’re going on a first date and then I guess we’ll see what happens from there.” You finish your sentence out of breath and out of options. If Marcus wasn’t your person, and you were too scared to see if Frankie would be interested in you, then this would have to do. 
Frankie can’t believe his ears. He’s already missed the window of opportunity. You’re going to go on a date with this guy, he’s going to fall madly in love with you, because how could he not and whether you like him or not, you’ll stay with him another 6 years just like Marcus. You just want it so badly, that you’ve grown careless with your heart. His stomach is turning in his seat as he tries not to look at Santi, whose eyes he can feel burning into him with a plea to stop this madness.  
The uncomfortable silence finally creeps through your skin and makes you eager to leave. Their shocked and unapproving faces with no acknowledgement of what you have said has you unsettled and honestly kind of annoyed. Looking over your shoulder, you spot your manager and nod to her briefly. “Well, um, I’m gonna go get my cheque and then head out.” Turning quickly, you miss the way their heads all spin to Frankie whose mouth still lay low.  
Benny finally speaks once you are out of ear shot, “What the fuck?” He throws his hands into his hair and looks around the table dumbstruck.  
Will is shaking his head and chewing his bottom lip, Santi is still looking at Frankie as if trying to use secret superpowers to control his body and make him rush after you. Frankie is silent, picking at the label on his cold beer as the condensation loosens the adhesive on the fish picture laden across the front.  
Santi finally breaks his stare and leans in closer, “You gonna do anything about this Fish?” 
Frankie shrugs, “Nothing I can do. You heard her, she’s moving on.”  
“From Marcus, not from you.”  
“Same difference.” He sighs, blowing all the air and joy out of his lungs.  
Shaking his head Santi straightens up in his seat. “No, it’s not the same man. She has no idea you have feelings for her and I’m willing to bet if you told her to cancel that date, she would in a heartbeat.” 
Shaking his head he sighs, “You don’t know that man, what if I fall flat on my face with her. There’s no going back.”  
Will leans his elbows on the table, “Fish, you gotta start believing in yourself more. I know what happened with Liv was really hard on you but-,” 
“But it wasn’t.” Frankie states. Upon being met with the confused eyes of his comrades he continues with shaky breathes, “It wasn’t hard. I liked Liv, felt something similar to love at times when it was easy, but it wasn’t hard when she left, because she wasn’t Skip.” His voice trails off with his confession.  
The familiar sound of your sandals hitting the hard wood floors snaps the group out of their trance, they turn to look at you with desperate eyes, unsure what to say as you stop for a beat in front of them.  
“Alright well, got my cheque.” You say awkwardly, raising the envelope up slightly in your hand. “You guys have a good night.” You tuck your chin down and don’t wait for their goodbyes. They’re being completely weird after all, gawking at you with open mouths like it’s the worst mistake of your life to go on this date.  
Stepping through the bar door you’re hit with the humidity of a late summer night. The sun was already setting leaving a low glow across the sky. You stand for a second, squeezing your eyes and urging the thoughts of Frankie out of your mind in an effort to stop the trickle of tears that would surely flow if you let yourself convince yourself that this wasn’t a mistake. Convince yourself you should go back in that bar and put it all on the line, even if it meant you’d fall with no safety net and lose him for good. That just wasn’t your style though, you didn’t free fall, you didn’t trust the universe. You needed certainty, and right now, the only certainty was that there was a handsome guy, who actually expressed interest in you waiting at a different bar, ready and willing to give you a shot. Taking one last look over your shoulder, you let your breath out and head to your vehicle.  
Frankie and the guys sit in silence, unsure what to do now. He watched as you left, desperate to follow and grab your wrist to spin you around and plant a seething kiss to your luscious lips.  
Benny takes a deep breath in and out, settling his head against the back of the booth. “That girl, Frankie, is worth the ifs, ands or buts. You know that, I know that, and I’m willing to bet she would agree.” 
Before Frankie can respond, the bartender that is covering for you, Tasha, hurries up to the table with a black notebook in hand. “Hey, did she leave already?” 
Santi nods, “Uh, yeah just. Why what’s up?” 
Tasha huffs, “She forgot her day planner again, would one of you be able to drop it off? I know she needs it before her next shift.” She asks. 
Frankie clears his throat and nods, “Yeah, no problem, Tash I’ll get it to her.” He says, leaning forward and taking the book out of her hands.  
She says thank you and swiftly heads back to the bar to greet the hoard of customers who have just stumbled through. 
Frankie stares absentmindedly at the worn book, pages from old day planners ripped out of their books and stuffed into this one instead of rewriting all the phone numbers and addresses you have in it. Quietly he passes it back and forth in his hands, a million thoughts running through his mind when it slips and falls down onto the table, some of the pages slipping out and exposing themselves in front of him. The guys look on with confused faces as Frankies face falls while he reads one of the faded and crinkled pages in front of him.  
Santi is the first to express his interest, “What’s that?” 
Taking a deep gulp, he picks up the piece of paper to examine it closer. Upon being sure that it says what he thinks it says, he slowly turns it around and slides it into the middle of the table for the guys to read. They all lean in and fall silent to see what has their friend so shocked.  
Frankie 555-666-7777 
baseball hat  
bar 
cutest guy ever?  
Update to self- definitely cutest guy ever 
He looks down at the book on the table, and thinks to himself, would it be wrong to go through it. Yes, it definitely would be, but he has to know if there’s anything else you’ve written about him it.  
Before the guys can get their “heys” and waits” out, he is opening up the cover and sifts through the pages. His ears start to ring as week after week contain the same notations. 
Lunch with Frankie <3 
Taking Frankie shopping to get news boots <3 
Borrowing Frankies truck <3 
No hearts beside Bennys name, Santis, Wills, or even Marcus’. He keeps flipping through the disheveled pages until he finds himself at the end of the book where the note pages are. “Fuuuck me.” Comes out of his mouth quietly as his whole world begins to spin, seeing a daily checklist you wrote out for yourself.  
Getting through the day, one step at a time. 
drink your water  
eat one vegetable, spinach dip doesn’t count 
do your morning Pilates, even though you hate it 
talk to Frankie <3 
He drops the book ceremoniously for the others to peer over and read as well. A grin spreads across Wills face as he pats Frankie's shoulder. “Alright man, no more excuses. What are you gonna do now?”  
Staring straight ahead with a sense of determination and wonder Frankie mutters, “I’m gonna go get my girl.” 
“Yeah!” Benny sounds as the others clap along and smile with Frankie.  
He thinks for a second, “Shit, did she say where she’s going?” he asks in a panic. 
Santi’s eyebrows pop up, “Oh, check todays date in the planner.” He says, pointing back to the book, seemingly the solution to all their problems that night.  
Frankie points his finger at his friend to acknowledge his good idea before grabbing the weathered book back into his hands and flitting through the pages to today’s date. He scans the week to Thursday and taps the page when he finds the notation. “9pm drinks with Sean, The Green Door.” He smirks to himself at the notice of no heart once again.  
“Green Door? That’s over on Park Street, right?” Benny asks. 
Will nods, “Yeah like a 5-minute drive, you better get going man.”  
Letting a deep breath out Frankie blinks quickly, “Yeah, yeah, you’re right. Okay.” He pushes past Santi in the booth and quickly pats his pockets to make sure he hasn’t forgotten anything. “Okay, I uh, I guess here I go.”  
“Go get her Fish!” Santi calls as Frankie begins to step away. Before Frankie suddenly finds himself turning in his spot and standing desperately back at the booth. 
“What the fuck am I supposed to say?” He asks with eyes wild.  
Benny scoffs, “Just say whatever you’ve been practicing in your head for the last 6 years and I’m sure it will be fine. Now go or I’ll kick your ass!” He swats at him playfully.  
With that Frankie gives them one last look of gratitude and jogs out the bar towards his truck, throwing it in gear and peeling out of the parking lot as quickly as the law will let him.  
After leaving work, you stop at a gas station to fill your tank. Standing at the pump you lean against the cool metal of your car and sigh. This new chapter of your life was daunting to say the least, no matter how optimistic you tried to feel about it, no matter how many fake smiles you had to put on for your sister, no matter how many cute guys messaged you on the app. You hear the click of the full tank signal and finish up, sliding back into your car and putting on some Taylor Swift to hopefully boost your mood on the drive over.  
Stepping out of your car, you look up at the neon sign above the green door. Sean had texted you on the drive over that he was there and grabbed a quiet table at the back. You smooth out your sundress to make sure it’s not sticking to the back of your thighs, thank you humidity and leather seats for that, and make your way over to the entrance.  
You hear the sound of a vehicle door slamming shut heavily and then the sound of boots sprinting against the pavement just as you are about to pull at the handle.  
“Skip wait!” 
Turning you look back and see none other than Frankie jogging up the sidewalk towards you nearly out of breath.  
“Frankie? What are you doing here?” you ask, your eyebrows furrowed as you peer over his shoulder to see if he is alone.  
Stopping in front of you he tries to catch his breath, “You can’t, - you, - you can’t go on this date.” He stutters out, trying to pull his shoulders square as he calms himself down.  
Feeling utterly bewildered by his statement you ask, “Why not?” 
He takes a deep breath and stares down directly into your soul. “You can’t because, well, I’m in love with you.”  
Your eyes nearly bulge out of your face and your breath hitches, unable to speak.  
He continues, noticing your shock. “I know, I know. This is probably not something you expected, because I’ve done my best to keep it locked away while you were with Marcus, and I was with Liv. But you’re not with him anymore, and I was never in love with Liv. I couldn’t have been, not when you were already taking up so much room in my heart. My heart is split right down the middle. It’s Camila, and it’s you. Has been for years now, there’s just no room for anyone else right now.” Gesturing to the green door beside you he continues. “This guy, I’m sure he’s nice or whatever, but I know you. I know you better than I know myself and I just, I love you. I do, and I’m not a hundred percent sure what’s going on in that beautiful head of yours, but I just need you to know, before you meet someone else. Before I miss that damn window of opportunity.” 
Taking a big gulp of air he finishes, looking down and embarrassed at his confession, fearing to look you in the eyes and see nothing but pity.  
“Frankie.” You whisper.  
He looks up to meet your gaze, and his heart thumps harder in his chest when he sees the tears welling up in your eyes and the way you have to bite your bottom lip to stop yourself from breaking into the biggest smile he’s ever seen.  
Clearing your throat, you find the courage to speak. “I love you too Frankie.” You say, finally allowing the smile to crack your cheeks.  
Frankie's grins goofily and his eyes light up, “Really? Since when?” 
Shrugging you admit, “Since I fell out of love with Marcus. So, years ago.”  
“Huh, never thought I’d want to thank that son a bitch for being such a useless boyfriend.” He jokes.  
You giggle and nod before noticing his face has suddenly changed into something of longing and he inches closer to you.  
Bringing his hands to your warm arms, he slides them up and down and looks down earnestly at you. “Can I kiss you baby?” he whispers.  
Looking into his deep brown eyes you part your lips and nod, “Yes, Frankie, please. I’ve waited too long for this.”  
He slowly leans down, his hands trailing up your arms to cup your face before gently pressing his lips to yours. His lips are plush and soft and move with such care. You bring your hands to his back and pull him slightly closer. He grins before encapsulating your mouth again in a seething kiss, poking his tongue through your teeth to lick into you. A moan vibrates through your throat.  
Before you can really get out of hand, a sound of “Whoops” and cheers sounds from the parking lot beside you and you both break to turn to look at the commotion. A large black truck with Will, Benny and Santi hanging out of the windows and sunroof with devilish grins on their faces is what your shocked and embarrassed faces are met with.  
“Oh gosh.” You laugh to yourself as you turn your body into Frankie's, he instinctively pulls you in close and wraps an arm around your back to shield you from the eyes of your obnoxious friends.  
“Seriously guys? Can’t you let me do anything on my own?” He calls over to them with his free hand raised. 
Santi laughs and retorts, “Had to make sure you didn’t bitch out man! Looks like we came at the right time though otherwise we would’ve been picking you two up from the jail for public indecency.”  
Will and Benny laugh before Benny calls out, “Alright guys, I think we’ve embarrassed them enough. We’re going back to my place for pizza if you two love birds wanna join.” 
You peel your face off Frankie's warm and firm chest and shrug, “I could go for some pizza.” 
He smiles and nods, before taking your chin in his fingers and pulling you closer for one more sweet kiss. “Sounds good to me, I’ll meet you there, okay?” he says once he has sufficiently sucked the smile off your face. 
“Okay.” You say and break apart from his hold. He swiftly takes your hand and walks you to your car, opening and closing the door behind you with a boyish smile on his face.  
You settle into your car and watch him as his tight little butt saunters over to his truck. You bite your lip before pulling out your phone and bringing up your messages. 
Sean: Hey just checking if you’re alright. 
You: Hey, I’m so sorry, I’m gonna have to cancel. Something came up, and I don’t think it’s gonna work out between us. It was nice chatting with you. Have a good night.  
Your phone pings before you put it back in your purse, you’re expecting it to be a disappointing text from Sean, but your eyes light up when you see the name on the notification.  
Frankie: *photo of the checklist in your day planner* 
Getting through the day, one step at a time. 
drink your water 
eat one vegetable, spinach dip doesn’t count 
do your morning Pilates, even though you hate it 
talk to Frankie <3   kiss Frankie <3  
Check! 
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