#I will pay him back in $10 or a beer | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sunsetmade · 3 months ago

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The Greenery

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: Your the new cart girl in the country club and a certain Kook takes an interest in you.

“—you’ll be out on the course, rolling by in the cart, asking if they want drinks or snacks—only after they’ve taken their swing, of course. Just looking after the golfers, making sure they’re good. Makes sense?” Her words tumbled out as easy as the wind off the dunes.

I just blinked at her, the early morning sun catching her sunglasses while my nerves twisted in my stomach. I gave a quick nod, even though my mind was still trying to catch up and understand all the instructions she just gave me.

“Alright, perfect! Your cart’s just over here—good luck out there!” she said with a kind of chipper energy that felt straight out of a preschool classroom. I stood frozen on the sun-warmed sidewalk, watching her disappear like sea foam back into the clubhouse.

Wait—which cart was mine?

Did she even say?

A wave of quiet panic rolled in as I scanned the line of identical golf carts, each one baking gently under the Carolina sun. I let out a slow sigh and headed toward them, hoping one would somehow just feel right.

I peeked into the first beige cart, trying to spot anything that screamed claimed—a water bottle, a towel, maybe a rogue granola bar. Nothing. Just a cup holder and the faint smell of sunscreen. I shrugged. Hopefully this wasn’t someone’s pride and joy. If it was, well… I’d apologize later.

I slid my light blue bag under the seat and took a short walk around the cart. The drinks and snacks had just been restocked—coolers full, chips lined up. Everything looked ready for the day. I made a quick mental note of what was where, then went back up front and sat down.

It was quiet, just the sound of the breeze and a few birds in the distance. I checked my watch—10:00. There had to be golfers out on the course already, maybe even finishing up their front nine.

Okay, first day. You’ve got this, I told myself as I started the cart. I eased forward, trying to follow the path that looked the most familiar. The woman who trained me yesterday had pointed out the best routes—ones that usually led to better tips. I kept that in mind and turned off onto the grass, hoping I was going the right way. Up ahead, I saw a few golfers. Time to start.

I cruised up slow, tires crunching over the sandy path near the green, squinting toward the three guys teeing off. I waited until they swung, clubs slicing the humid air, then eased the cart closer. “Hey, y’all want anything this morning?” I asked, chewing the inside of my cheek, trying to sound chill.

The first guy looked up, hand raised to block the Carolina sun. “Uh, yeah, I’ll take a beer. Kelce, you want one? Rafe?”

The other guy—Kelce, I guessed—shook his head, already gripping his driver like he had somewhere better to be.

But the third guy just looked at me—really looked at me—with this kind of quiet intensity that made my pulse hitch. “I’ll take one too,” he said, voice low but steady. I gave him a nod, trying not to stare, but it was hard not to. He was tall—like, seriously tall—and every inch of him looked like it had been carved by the sun. That golden tan that only comes from living outside, not just visiting. His hair was buzzed close, neat and clean, but something about him still felt wild, like he belonged out here, chasing waves or something worse.

I stepped out, tugging down the edge of my pink skirt— that suddenly felt too short—and walked around to the drink side of the cart. The cooler hissed as I opened it, grabbed two cold ones, and handed it over.

Just as I turned to leave, the guy stopped me. “Wait—don’t I need to pay?”

My heart skipped, cheeks flushing. I spun back around, flustered. “Right. Yeah. Sorry, it’s my first day.” I fumbled for the tablet, feeling like a total touron.

“You’re good,” he said with a smile that read annoyed, cracking the beer open and taking a swig. But the other guy—Rafe—just stood there with an amused smirk, like he was quietly entertained by the whole thing. It only made my cheeks flush deeper.

And of course I had to screw up right in front of someone like him—tall, stupidly handsome, and clearly amused by what was happening. My cheeks burned hotter, and I hated how obvious it probably was.

After he paid, I mumbled a have a good day pretending I wasn’t totally mortified, and climbed back into the cart. As I drove off, slow and steady, I muttered to myself under my breath.

Behind me, I heard Kelce laugh. “Topper, you could’ve gotten a free drink, man!”

Rafe rolled his eyes at his friends, barely paying attention now as the beige cart disappeared down the path. His thoughts were still stuck on the girl in it—flustered, short, a little too innocent for this place. Cute, in a way that caught him off guard.

His heart stuttered, just for a second, and he frowned. What the hell was that?

“Looks like Cameron’s got a crush,” Kelce laughed, nudging him with that stupid grin.

Rafe shot him a look sharp enough to kill, and Kelce immediately got quiet. “Shut up,” Rafe muttered, jaw tight.

I could still feel the heat in my cheeks as the cart bounced along the path, the salty wind tugging at my hair. I didn’t dare look back—I already embarrassed myself enough.

But my mind wandered anyway, replaying the way he had looked at me. Like he was trying to figure something out. Like he saw through me, even in those few seconds.

It made my stomach flutter, and I hated that.

Get a grip, I told myself. Guys like that don’t pay attention to girls like me. Not really.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

I exhaled sharply as the blast of cool air hit me walking into the country club—finally a break from the heat. The place was nicer than I expected, all polished wood floors and white linen vibes, like money had been casually spilled everywhere. The only people lounging around were the kind with trust funds and last names that carried weight. I was a Kook, yeah—but not this kind of Kook.

I drifted toward the bar, eyes landing on the small “employees only” sign near the back. Just as I stepped forward, a girl I’d talked to earlier—cheerful, way too energetic for the heat—popped out of nowhere.

“Hey girl! Can you please do me a massive favor?” she started, eyes wide with that desperate sparkle. “There’s this party, and I have to go, but I can’t just leave the bar, like, totally unmanned. So could you maybe…?”

She trailed off, hanging on the question like it was already answered.

I blinked. “Uh, I’m actually on my break, sorry—”

Before I could finish, her hand was already on my shoulder.

“Perfect! You're the best, thank you so much! I owe you!”

And with that, she vanished, leaving me standing there, stunned, with her note pad to take orders. My stomach dropped when I finally caught up to the situation. How the hell was I suppose to do this?

After totally humiliating myself on the course, I knew I had to redeem the day somehow. No way I was walking out of here with just a sunburn and a bruised ego. I let out a breath and tried to shake it off, thinking back to when I used to help my mom at her restaurant. Long nights, sticky menus, endless refills—but I knew how to survive. This couldn’t be that bad.

I squared my shoulders and headed for the deck, the salty breeze catching the edge of my shirt as I pushed through the doors.

Outside, the scene was peak Outer Banks chaos. Golfers fresh off the green looked sun-tired and salty—either from their scores or the humidity. Rich moms clinked glasses while one-upping each other over SAT scores and college tours. And then there were the ones my age—tanned, tipsy, and desperate to prove they belonged. Designer sunglasses, backwards hats, practiced laughs. The summer elite.

I took a breath, rolled my shoulders back, and walked up to the first table—a well-dressed older man and a woman I assumed was his wife. They looked like they’d stepped right out of a luxury yacht.

“Hi there, can I get you anything to drink?” I asked, putting on my best smile.

The woman glanced up, her pearl earrings catching the light as she gave me a perfect, practiced grin. “I’ll have a martini, please, dear,” she said, voice smooth like she’d never been told no in her life.

Her husband barely looked up from his phone. “Beer,” he grunted.

Classy.

I nodded, keeping the smile on my face as I turned and made my way back to the bar. I slid their order over to the real bartender—wherever they were—and leaned against the counter for a second, trying not to look as out of place as I felt.

One table down. A whole sea of golf bros and country club queens to go.

I took a deep breath and slid another order onto the counter, mentally checking off another task. But just as I was about to rush off, a voice stopped me in my tracks.

“Are you the bartender?”

I turned, heart skipping—and then stalling—when I saw him. The same guy from earlier. Handsome in that effortless, probably-drives-a-Jeep-and-surfs-before-brunch kind of way. Now standing way too close beside me.

The smirk that spread across his face made my stomach do something weird. “I thought you were a cart girl,” he said smoothly.

“I—I am,” I stammered, suddenly forgetting how to use words. “But I was asked to cover…”

Why was I nervous? No clue. Maybe it was the way he looked at me, like I was some sort of prey.

His brow quirked. “You must be new around here.”

I glanced up, straight into his blue eyes, and instantly regretted my next question. “How’d you know?”

Obvious. The golf course disaster practically screamed it.

But instead of calling me out, he let out a quiet chuckle. “Lucky guess,” he teased, flashing a smile that was entirely too easygoing.

I exhaled, thankful. At least he wasn’t reporting me to someone in khakis and a clipboard.

He stared down at me, and I found myself locked in, unable to look away from his eyes—blue and piercing like they saw right through the act I was barely holding together.

“What’s your name?” he asked, leaning casually against the bar like he had all the time in the world. All the time just to talk to me.

I hesitated, just for a second, before giving it to him. And I could’ve sworn—sworn—I heard him mutter “cute” under his breath, but it was so quick I couldn’t be sure if I imagined it.

“I’m Rafe,” he said simply.

I repeated the name in my head.

A small smile tugged at my lips before I could stop it. “Nice to meet you, Rafe,” I replied, somehow managing to sound calm despite the full-blown gymnastics routine happening in my stomach.

Rafe knew he was a goner the second she opened her mouth to talk to Topper on the course. There was something about the way she carried herself—like she didn’t know the effect she had, and that only made it worse. Or better. He hadn’t decided yet.

But after seeing her smile? Yeah, that sealed the deal.

The way she nervously fiddled with her fingers when she spoke to him—it wasn’t fake. She wasn’t putting on some country club act. Her eyes held this softness, this kind of innocence he wasn’t used to. It didn’t match the crowd around them, and that contrast made her even more interesting.

And the crazy part? He just wanted to keep talking to her. Hear her voice. Figure her out.

And this was after one day.

Rafe’s phone buzzed in his pocket, cutting through the moment and snapping his focus away from the girl standing in front of him. He cursed under his breath, jaw tightening as he pulled it out.

Dad.

Of course.

He glanced at the screen, then back at her—still standing there, still looking up at him with those wide eyes like the rest of the world didn’t exist.

For a second, he considered ignoring it. Just letting it ring out. But he knew better. His dad didn’t call without a reason, and ignoring him only made things worse.

“I gotta go,” he said, slipping his phone back into his pocket. “Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow—on the cart this time?” he added, a teasing smile tugging at his lips.

I smiled without meaning to, nodding. “Yeah… I hope,” I whispered, the words slipping out before I could stop them.

As soon as I heard myself, my cheeks burned. Seriously? I hope?

His smirk deepened, like he’d caught it—but thankfully, he didn’t say anything. He just gave me one last look, then turned and walked off, leaving me standing there replaying the whole conversation in my head.

And for a moment, I forgot I was supposed to be working.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

I pulled into my employee parking spot and let out a sigh, gripping the steering wheel for a second longer than necessary. Okay, I told myself. Let’s just stay as a cart girl today. No mistakes, no surprises.

My first day might’ve been a total disaster, but I couldn’t get Rafe out of my head. As much as I didn’t to admit it— mainly because I just met him, the thought of running into him again was the only thing that made coming back this morning feel… kind of exciting.

I grabbed my bag from the passenger seat and made my way across the lot, the air already warm with that early summer heat. I climbed into my cart, settling in behind the wheel like I belonged there, like yesterday hadn’t been a disaster.

I glanced down at the pink and gold watch on my wrist, checked the time, and gave myself a small nod.

Time to start.

I cruised slowly around the course, starting to get the hang of the layout. Each turn felt a little more familiar, each group of golfers a little less intimidating. The Outer Banks air was crisp that morning, cooler than usual. The sky hung low and gray, the sun barely pushing through the clouds like it was trying to make up its mind.

I silently cursed my outfit choice—my skirt offered zero protection from the wind, and my thin tee wasn’t much better. Not exactly built for gloomy weather.

As I pulled around another bend, I spotted two golfers near their clubs. I eased the cart toward them, and my heart skipped the second I realized who it was—Rafe and his friend from the other day.

I bit back a smile and drove a little closer. “Would you guys like anything?” I asked, suddenly unsure of where to put my hands.

“A beer, a really cold—” Topper started, but Rafe cut him off, stepping forward with that same grin that had been stuck in my head since day one.

He leaned against the front of the cart, looking way too comfortable. “Where were you yesterday?”

I swallowed, trying not to overthink my every move as I stepped out to grab a beer from the cooler. “It wasn’t my day to work,” I said, forcing casual into my voice even though my pulse betrayed me.

He hummed, eyes drifting away for a second, a small frown tugging at the corner of his mouth. “What days do you work?” he asked, trying to keep his tone casual, like it was just another question.

But it wasn’t.

Truth was, he'd spent more time scanning the course for her yesterday than actually playing the damn game. Every cart that passed, every flash of movement, he hoped it was her. And when it wasn’t—he noticed.

He glanced back at her, trying not to let it show. He just wanted to know when to look.

“U-uh, normally every day,” I said, my voice quieter than I meant it to be. “They only gave me yesterday off because they found out I worked another shift.”

As soon as the words left my mouth, I realized I’d probably given way more detail than necessary. I bit the inside of my cheek, suddenly hyper-aware of how close he was, how casual he looked leaning against the cart—while I stood there feeling like my heartbeat was on full display.

Rafe chewed the inside of his lip as he watched her pull out a beer for Topper. Her skirt shifted slightly when she reached into the cooler, riding up just enough to make his gaze flick there—then snap away just as fast.

He silently cursed under his breath, dragging a hand through his hair like that would help shake it off.

When he glanced back, Topper was staring at him with that familiar irritated look. Rafe waved him off, not in the mood for whatever passive-aggressive comment was loading in his head. Topper huffed, turned, and grabbed his club, muttering something under his breath.

Rafe rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to her—because, yeah, she was the reason he was even out here this early.

“This is for your friend,” I said softly, offering the beer with a small smile.

Rafe took it from me, and his fingers brushed mine for just a second—but it was enough. Enough to send butterflies into full flight in my stomach.

“How much?” he asked, his eyes locked on mine with that same smirk from the other day, clearly still enjoying the memory.

I let out a quiet huff, trying my best not to blush as I looked up at him. He towered over me, jacket unzipped, shorts on despite the chill. Of course he wasn’t cold. Of course he looked good.

“Twelve dollars,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “And don’t worry—I’m not letting you get away without paying this time.”

A spark of amusement flickered in his eyes. A little feisty. He liked that.

Without missing a beat, he pulled out his wallet and handed me a fifty. “Keep the change.”

My eyes widened as I looked at the bill. “Rafe, I can’t take this—that’s way too much,” I said quickly, trying to give it back.

But he just shook his head, gently pushing my hand away. “No. I want you to take it,” he said, voice low. “You deserve it.”

The words hit harder than I expected, warming something in my chest. I hesitated, then slowly slid the bill into my pocket.

A breeze swept past, and I shivered, rubbing my hands along my arms. Rafe’s expression shifted—he noticed and he didn’t like it.

“I better go. I’ll see you tomorrow, Rafe,” I said, turning away to close the cooler and lock the protective door over it.

When I turned back around, he was still there. His expression was unreadable, but there was something lingering in it—something close to disappointment.

“I’ll be looking for you,” he finally said. The usual smirk was on his face, but his words carried a sincerity that made my knees feel just a little weaker.

I let out a quiet chuckle, feeling more confident than I expected. “Bye Rafe,” I said as I climbed into the cart.

Rafe stepped back as I pulled away, making sure he didn’t get clipped. I threw him a little wave over my shoulder, and he laughed, shaking his head before returning it.

The smile didn’t leave my face.

But as I drove off, shivering again from the cool breeze, something caught my eye in the passenger seat. I blinked, then felt my heart leap.

Rafe’s jacket.

He must’ve left it without realizing. I slowed down near the bathrooms, reaching over and picking it up. It was still warm, thick and worn in, and when I brought it closer, his scent filled the air around me—clean, woodsy, and something undeniably him.

I hesitated for half a second before slipping it on.

Instant comfort. Instant butterflies.

I could only hope he didn’t mind.

Topper let out an exaggerated sigh of relief as Rafe returned, beer in hand. “Finally, man. Thought you were never gonna stop flirting with her.”

Rafe rolled his eyes, choosing not to take the bait. Typical Topper.

As Topper took a long swig, his brow furrowed. “Hey… where’s your jacket?”

Rafe glanced down at his arms, like he was just now realizing it wasn’t there. But he knew. He’d known the second she pulled away in that cart.

“Ah, shit,” he muttered, dragging a hand over his face in fake frustration. “Must’ve left it on her seat.”

He didn’t bother to hide the small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

It had been a week and a few days since the jacket incident, and Rafe hadn’t stopped thinking about it—or her.

Every time he caught sight of that golf cart in the distance, he found himself straightening up, scanning for her face, hoping she’d glance his way. She’d been wearing the jacket the day after he left it—he’d spotted it from across the green. He didn’t say anything, just watched her tug it a little tighter when the wind kicked up.

He liked that she kept it. Liked that she didn’t give it back.

Of course, they’d talked nearly every day when she stopped by his hole on the course—but the jacket? Never mentioned. Not once.

She was half-terrified that if she brought it up, he’d ask for it back. And honestly, she wasn’t ready to give it up. What she didn’t know was that Rafe had no intention of asking. He liked seeing her wear it. Liked the idea that a part of him was keeping her warm out there.

I drove around the course feeling more at ease than I had on my first day. Country music played softly from the cart speakers, mixing with the wind that cut across my bare legs—I’d forgotten to dress for the weather again. Rafe’s jacket rested on my lap, a comfort. I tugged it a little tighter.

As I rounded a curve, my eyes scanned the fairway like they always did. And there—tall, lean, standing alone—it had to be him.

I’d never admit it to him, but every time I approached a group of golfers, I secretly hoped it would be Rafe.

I drove my cart up closer to the golfer and smiled when I could confirm it was him. “Hi, Rafe!” I called out cheerily, the words rolling off my tongue with way more ease than they had that first day. I’d definitely gotten more comfortable around him—too comfortable, maybe.

Rafe turned at the sound of my voice, that familiar grin already tugging at his lips. It was like he’d been waiting for me.

“Hey, pretty girl. Whatcha up to?” he asked, voice low and cool as ever.

The nickname hit me —warm and unexpected—and I felt the blush creep up my neck before I could stop it.

Rafe had gotten bolder with his flirting over the past few days—it wasn’t subtle anymore. His compliments, the way he looked at her, lingered just a little too long to be casual.

Still, she played it off. Told herself that was just how he was—charming, smooth, flirty with everyone. But deep down, she couldn’t help but hope... that maybe it wasn’t just his personality. Maybe it was just for her.

“Just driving around, listening to some music,” I said with a shrug, the faint twang of country still playing in the background. “You’re alone today?”

I tilted my head, genuinely surprised. It was rare to see him without the other two guys trailing behind.

Rafe nodded, walking up to the cart and resting his hands on the roof, leaning in slightly. The move brought him closer—close enough to steal my breath a little.

“Yeah,” he said, casually. “Decided to come alone today.”

His eyes flicked over the inside of the cart, lingering for a beat too long. Then they landed on his jacket still draped over my lap—and something shifted in his expression. A small, barely-there smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, and he seemed... almost proud.

“Want company?” he asked, voice a little lower now, a spark of confidence threading through his words.

I looked up at him, wide-eyed, lips tugging into a smile before I could stop myself.

“Would you really want to come along?” she asked, the doubt in her voice betraying the slight nervousness she felt. She couldn't help but wonder if he'd get bored—it seemed unlikely, but still, it felt too casual.

But Rafe was anything but bored when it came to her. He nodded slowly, a low hum escaping his chest. "Yeah," he said, his tone confident but soft. "I’d like that."

She let out a light laugh, the sound warm and easy. "I guess you could join me. If I get fired, it’s your fault."

Rafe smirked, stepping closer. Without warning, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, the gesture light but meaningful. “Don’t worry, pretty girl. They won’t fire you,” he reassured her, his voice low and steady.

And even if they tried, he thought—he wouldn’t let that happen. Not on his watch

Rafe stood there, waiting with that confident look on his face, as if he expected me to do something.

I raised an eyebrow, confused. “Are you going to get in?”

He stared at me for a beat, eyes narrowing slightly, before the smirk spread across his face, as if he were offended by the suggestion that he might not.

“Yes. Scoot over, I’m driving,” he said, his voice firm with an edge of playfulness.

Before I could even protest, he was already sliding into the cart, practically nudging me to the side. His leg brushed against mine, and I immediately felt the heat crawl up my skin. It was a simple touch, nothing overly intimate—but it felt like a spark.

The warmth between us was suddenly so palpable, I almost forgot how to breathe for a second.

I could feel the heat from his leg radiating against mine, and despite myself, I shifted slightly, trying to keep the space between us. But Rafe didn’t seem to mind. He leaned back in the seat, stretching his arms above his head, completely at ease as if he owned the place. His confidence was infectious, and I found myself getting more comfortable with every inch he moved closer.

“Comfortable?” he asked, glancing at me with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

I smiled, trying to act like I wasn’t completely aware of every inch of him next to me. But deep down, I liked it—more than I cared to admit. “Yeah, totally,” I said, though the way my heart was racing told a different story.

Rafe’s smirk widened, sensing my nervousness—or maybe enjoying it. He nudged my leg with his casually, as if to remind me of how close we really were. “Good,” he said, his voice low, his eyes flicking down to my lap where his jacket still lay. “You know, I like seeing you in my jacket.”

I chuckled, my heart fluttering a little. “I guess it’s better than being cold,” I said, my voice betraying the flutter of warmth spreading through me.

“Mm-hmm,” Rafe hummed, his gaze lingering on me, that same playful smirk tugging at his lips. “That’s one way to put it.” He knew I was covering up the real reason.

Rafe started the cart, the engine humming softly as we cruised along the course. The country music played in the background, its soothing rhythm filling the space between us. The wind had calmed down a bit, and the cool air felt refreshing as we made our way down the winding path. It was peaceful—more so than I had expected—and I found myself relaxing in a way I hadn’t realized I needed.

After a couple of minutes of comfortable silence, Rafe’s eyes drifted toward me. His gaze wasn’t intrusive, but it was intense—calm yet purposeful, like he was taking in everything about me.

I glanced over at him, and for a split second, our eyes locked. I could feel the subtle tension between us, the way his presence seemed to fill every corner of the cart. His gaze softened, but the intensity remained, making my heart beat just a little faster.

“Y’know,” Rafe started, his voice casual but his fingers tightening ever so slightly on the steering wheel, “there’s this event coming up at the club. Some really formal, over-the-top thing my family always drags me to.” He glanced over at me, a flicker of something uncertain in his eyes. “I was wondering if… you’d want to go with me?”

His usual confidence was there, sure—but underneath, I could hear it. That slight edge of nervousness he was trying to hide.

I froze, eyes wide. Was this real? Was he seriously asking me to a fancy club event? As his date?

“L-like a date?” I repeated, my voice barely above a whisper. My heart was pounding so loud I was sure he could hear it.

Rafe looked down at me, his playful smirk fading into something more serious. His gaze held mine, steady and unwavering. “Yeah,” he said, voice low and sure. “Like a date.”

For a second, I forgot how to breathe.

Then I quickly cleared my throat, trying to play it cool even though my face was probably on fire. “I—uh—I would love to. That sounds... fun,” I said, my voice steady enough, but the grin spreading across my face totally gave me away.

Rafe let out a soft laugh and shook his head like I was the funniest thing he’d seen all day. His hand moved without warning, resting gently on my thigh, his touch warm and grounding and gave it a squeeze.

“You don’t understand the effect you have on me,” he murmured, his tone more serious now, more honest than I’d ever heard it.

I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t. Not with the way my whole body was buzzing at the feeling of his hand, his words, him.

But inside, I was screaming.

His face was so close to mine—closer than it had ever been. I could feel his breath on my skin, warm and intoxicating. My gaze was locked on his eyes, but his flickered downward, landing on my lips. The world seemed to still around us.

He leaned in slowly, like he was giving me a chance to pull away. But I didn’t want to. I was frozen, heart racing, anticipation buzzing through every inch of me.

I’m about to kiss him, I thought giddily, my lips parting just slightly as my eyes fluttered shut. I felt his lips ghost over mine, a whisper of a touch that sent goosebumps up my arms.

And then—

Thunk!

“Watch out!” someone called from across the course.

Both our eyes snapped open just as something hit the roof of the cart with a loud clunk. Rafe let out a groan, dropping his forehead gently against mine in defeat.

His hand, still resting against my cheek, caressed it softly, his thumb brushing back and forth as if trying to soothe the moment we’d just lost.

I giggled, unable to help myself.

He pulled back just enough to meet my eyes, one brow raised as a smirk tugged at his lips. “Funny?”

I nodded, biting back another laugh. “Kinda.”

That teasing spark lit up in his eyes again. “I was so close,” he mumbled under his breath.

I smiled, leaning into his touch just a little more. “Yeah,” I whispered, “you were.”

But the moment wasn’t really gone. If anything, it left us wanting more.

“You drive me insane,” Rafe murmured, his voice low and laced with a kind of frustration that only made me smile wider.

“Good,” I teased, my eyes gleaming with mischief.

He chuckled, that deep, effortless sound that always made my stomach flip. Before I could say anything else, he dipped his head and pressed a soft kiss to the side of my neck. Then another. And another. Each one slower, more deliberate than the last.

I giggled, warmth rushing up my face as I squirmed slightly in my seat. “Rafe!” I laughed, playfully pushing at his head. “You’re going to get me in trouble.”

He pulled back just enough to look at me, that smug grin on his face, eyes full of trouble. “Worth it.”

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0cta9on · 6 months ago

Text

Moon Rabbit

Length: +12k words

Genre: Smut

Gfriend/Viviz Eunha x Male Reader

(Author's Note: This is like 90% story and 10% smut, but I hope y'all enjoy anyways :> Thank you to @msafterhours for beta, this story wouldn't be alive without you <3 Enjoy!)

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】

Amongst the monotonous drone of the harsh fluorescent lights and the mysterious smell emanating from the bathrooms, it’s hard not to feel a little pessimistic about life. It would be so easy to air out your long list of grievances to anyone that’ll listen, but complaining to the kind of people this place attracts—late night travelers who’d struggle putting two and two together— is always more trouble than it’s worth.

“Welcome to 7/11!”

The ring of the entrance chime followed by the soft yet enthusiastic voice of your coworker is a constant that you have yet to get used to, even after a whole three weeks of hearing it nonstop. You told Eunha plenty of times before that she doesn’t have to greet the customers, yet she continues to do so anyway, something about “responsibility” and “upholding the company’s image”—as if the company’s image isn’t rotisserie hot dogs and gallon-sized slushies.

At best, she’ll get a polite nod, at worst, they scoff and act as if a simple gesture is the worst thing that’s ever happened to them. Her greetings might be more suited to the morning crowd, but she insists that she’s not much of a morning person. You don’t exactly care enough to verify her statements, so you’re content with her keeping you company during the night shift.

“Let me know if you need help with anything!” Eunha calls out to the customer as he aimlessly wanders through the aisles. You’ve grown accustomed to the late night visits from these kinds of people, guys in their early 20’s who seem either too drunk and/or faded to respond properly; hopefully, he’ll just quietly pay for his things and leave without any trouble.

“Yo,” he utters, carelessly dropping a single beer can and a box of large condoms onto the counter. You give him a curt nod, trying not to make a face as the violent stench of weed attacks your nostrils. Figures.

“$7.50.”

“Hey bro, do you know if that chick over there has a boyfriend?” He looks over at Eunha as she stocks the shelves, baggy eyes tracing her body through a half-lidded gaze. You simply shrug. Whatever she does outside of work is none of your business.

The man chuckles to himself, grabbing his things off the counter. “Watch this.” He saunters over to her and engages in a conversation that you can’t quite make out. Even as you try to distract yourself with other work, you can’t help but tense up slightly, stealing glances towards your coworker.

Eunha puts on her signature smile, nodding her head to everything he’s saying. Occasionally she’ll laugh, more so out of politeness than anything. If you would have to describe her with one word, “polite” would probably be enough. Maybe overly so, but hey, who’re you to judge her of all people about small talk?

Then, you notice a small crack in her expression. The corners of her lips drop ever so slightly. Her eyes widen just a smidge. Now he’s walking towards her, backing her up into a corner, like a predator stalking its prey.

You’ve learned not to stick your nose into other people’s business; even the simple act of lending an ear has cost you time and energy that ultimately led you to getting kicked to the curb the second you’re no longer of use. It’s exhausting. You’d do anything to forget that kind of pain, even if it means your existence is a bit lonelier. And yet, despite your better judgment, you grab a spare broom and begin sweeping towards the problem, stepping in between them right as Eunha’s back hits one of the fridges.

“Excuse me,” you mutter, your eyes never leaving the ground.

“Bro, what the fuck are you—”

“I’m trying to do my job,” you state, jerking your neck to glare at him. The man scoffs in annoyance before stomping towards the exit, grumbling incoherently while he knocks a couple chip bags off the shelves.

“Thanks,” Eunha says, breathing a sigh of relief. “He kept asking for my number and wouldn’t stop after I said ‘no’. I don’t know what would’ve happened if you weren’t here.”

You shrug, continuing to sweep the rest of the store. In hindsight, there might not have been a need for you to intervene in the first place; Eunha is a grown woman that can probably take care of herself, and what kind of damage could a guy like that do anyways? Yet, despite everything, you still chose to play the hero. What’s done is done.

As you go back to your place by the register, you notice Eunha beaming brighter than ever before despite no one else being around.

______________________________________________________________

Eunha groans, face planting into the counter. “I’m bored.”

“You could deep clean the coffee machine,” you suggest, eliciting an even louder groan from her.

You think about telling her to switch to the afternoon shift, but refrain from it in the end, figuring she probably has her own reasons for wanting to work this late. You chose the night shift out of necessity more than anything. Countless sleepless nights led you to the conclusion that you might as well get some compensation for your suffering.

Eunha’s face suddenly lights up as she goes over to the fridges and grabs two beer cans. “We should drink!” she says.

“Those are for the customers,” you state.

“I’ll pay for them, dummy. Besides, there’s literally nothing else to do. No one has stopped by for hours.”

You stare at her pleading face, slightly impressed by how well she manages to pull off “puppy-dog eyes”. You don’t consider yourself much of a drinker—going down that road only left you with an unbearable sickness that made “taking the edge off” not even worth it—but a hunch in the back of your mind tells you to go for it anyways. Maybe “puppy-dog eyes” actually do work; maybe the boredom’s gotten to you too.

“Woohoo!” she cheers. “Let’s go sit out front! I wanna look at the stars.” Eunha grabs the cans and a large bag of chips from the shelf before running out of the store with the excitement of a kid in a candy store. With a sigh, you follow behind her.

Your breath catches in your throat as the outside chill hits you like a speeding train, sending an unpleasant shiver through your spine that makes you regret even considering this stupid idea. You turn to retreat back to the warmth of the store, but a brief glimpse of Eunha waving you down with such genuine enthusiasm pulls you in, and before you can even think to stop yourself, you’re already grabbing the beer can from her outstretched hand.

“Isn’t it beautiful tonight?” she comments, gazing up at the stars above. It’s… nice. Better than the harsh fluorescent lights of the store, for sure.

“Yeah,” you utter, taking a swig from your can. You grimace at the bitterness, a reminder of why you stopped in the first place.

“Woah pal, I don’t need to hear your life story,” she quips, chuckling at her own joke. “Isn’t this better than being stuck in that smelly old store all night?”

You shrug. “It’s… alright, I guess.”

She stares at you for a while, studying your expression with a focused squint.

“...What?” you mutter, suddenly feeling self-conscious under her gaze.

“Nothing, sorry.” She shakes her head, her gaze falling to the unopened beer in her hands. A tense moment passes before she finally clicks it open and takes a small sip, wincing as she swallows the bitter liquid. “Um, do you… hate me or something?”

You turn to her in confusion. “Hate” isn’t a word you associate with Eunha. Truly, you don’t think anyone could hate someone like her. Maybe you get a little irked by her inability to set up the shelves properly, but nobody’s perfect, least of all you. In fact, you don’t have any strong feelings about her one way or another. She’s just your coworker.

Just that.

Nothing else.

“No, not at all,” you reply.

A small grin forms on Eunha’s lips. “That’s good. I was worried that maybe I did something and that’s why you never talk to me.”

Huh? “I talk to you.”

“Yeah, no, I mean, like, really talking. Not just about work and stuff,” she explains. “We’ve been working together for, like, months and I barely know anything about you!”

“It’s barely been three weeks,” you correct her, earning a dramatic eye roll. “Do you really need to know anything about me to work here?”

Eunha grimaces at your answer. “I guess not, but it would be nice to know if I’m working with a serial killer or not.” She takes another small sip from her can, tension seeping into the frigid air between you two.

“I’m not a serial killer,” you state.

“Well, I wouldn’t know that if you didn’t tell me.”

“I could be lying.”

She turns to you, studying your expression with an intense focus. “Hmm… I don’t think you’re lying.”

“You think?” You raise an eyebrow at her.

She shrugs. “For starters, aren’t most serial killers supposed to be charming to lure in their victims and stuff? No offense, but you’re the least charming person I’ve ever met.”

“Better than being a serial killer I guess.”

She chuckles to herself, dissolving any lingering tension in the air. “So you have a sense of humor. That’s good to know.”

“I guess I do.”

Eunha lifts her can towards you, flashing you a warm smile that wards away the bitter winds. You watch as the corners of her lips curl at a certain angle, her eyes squinting ever so slightly to make room to smile even wider. How impossibly white and symmetrical her teeth are, as if god or whoever is up there took their time creating her. In hindsight, she’s probably perfect for this job - kind, inviting, instantly putting you at ease with a single glance. A smile seems so natural on her, it feels like the sky would fall if it disappeared from her face for even a moment.

“Hello?” She waves her hand in front of your face. “My arm is getting tired here, are you gonna cheers me or not?”

You shake your head. “Right. Sorry.” You clink your can against hers before bringing it to your lips. The bitter taste of alcohol is nonexistent at this point, replaced by subtle yet present undertones of sweetness. You peek through the top of the can, confirming that it’s still the same old cheap beer it was mere seconds ago. Yet, for now, it’s just a little more bearable.

______________________________________________________________

To put it lightly, this fucking sucks.

The shadows dance and jeer at you from your ceiling as if to celebrate your misfortune. All you can do is watch the show play out as you barely cling to life. An earlier Google search of your symptoms tells you that it’s just “a common cold”, but you’d swear Death itself has a personal vendetta with you, cursing you with rusty lungs and cinder blocks for limbs. Regretfully, you retrieve your phone from your nightstand, sending Eunha a text that you aren’t able to make it to work tonight.

A sudden weight jumping onto your chest causes you to drop your phone onto the floor. Two yellow marbles coldly stare at you through the darkness, silently judging your poor condition.

“Y-Yokai, please… I can’t b-breathe…” With weak hands, you try to gently push your cat off of your chest, but it’s no use. Every time you try to get close, the little beast nips at your fingers.

This is it. This is how you die. You never believed in the superstition about black cats, but perhaps you should’ve heeded its warning. Maybe this is his way of telling you that he never liked you in the first place, in spite of all you’ve done for him as his caretaker. Years from now, when someone finally notices that you’re missing, they’ll find your corpse with Yokai resting right on top, like he’s gloating about outliving you. You shut your eyes, quickly accepting your fate. On the brightside, maybe you’ll finally get some sleep for once.

A knock on your front door causes him to jump off your chest to inspect the noise. You silently thank the stranger at your front door as your lungs finally fill with air. As far as you’re concerned, they just saved your life.

WIth a blanket wrapped around you, you struggle against your headache and stumble towards the door. The person on the other side makes you wonder if you should add hallucinations to your list of symptoms.

“Hi!” Eunha beams at you, a plastic bag in her hands. “I brought you some stuff to help with your cold!”

“H-huh?” You stand there in shock, a million questions floating through your head. “What about the store?”

She shrugs. “I closed it for a bit. I’m sure the two customers that would’ve shown up tonight will live.”

Never in a million years did you expect anyone, aside from the occasional delivery man, to show up to your doorstep, let alone with the purpose of providing you aid. It’s… nice. You’re probably better off with a good night’s rest, but god knows you’ll never get one.

“Are you gonna invite me in? It’s rude to keep a woman waiting, y’know,” she teases.

“R-right.” You step aside, allowing her into your apartment that hasn’t seen another human soul the entire time you’ve lived in it. As luck would have it, another person arrives on the one day that you’re unable to clean anything. “Sorry about the mess.”

“It’s alright—Oh!” Yokai leaps from the shadows, stopping just a few feet in front of her to inspect the stranger entering his home. “Hi there! Oh my gosh, you’re so cute!”

Eunha kneels down to his level and offers her hand towards him. Taking the invitation, Yokai approaches her with cautious yet curious steps, his eyes dilated and ready. After a seemingly tense moment, his pupils soften as he presses his small face into her palms, accepting her enthusiastic pets.

“I can’t believe you never told me about your cat!” she playfully berates you. “What’s its name?”

“His name is Yokai,” you answer, collapsing haphazardly onto the couch. “Found him on the street when I first moved here.”

She raises an eyebrow at you. “You named your cat after Japanese demons?”

You shrug. “It seemed fitting at the time.”

Eunha chuckles, giving him one last pet before placing the bag on the table. “I brought you some cold meds, green tea, and a can of chicken soup. Is it alright if I use your kitchen to heat up the soup?”

You wave her off. “Thanks, but you don’t have to do that.”

She rolls her eyes at you, grabbing the can and walking over to the kitchen in defiance. “If I didn’t want to do this, I would’ve just dropped it off and left.”

With barely any energy left to argue, you resign yourself to resting your head against the armrest, listening to the clanging of metal and the creaking of wood as Eunha searches your cabinets for a pot. Three flickers followed by the gentle poof of the stovetop bring you back to simpler times when your mother would cook meals for you as a kid. That comforting feeling of knowing that everything would end up okay even if the current times are tough.

A feeling you haven’t felt in a long time.

Hope isn’t something you like to cling onto; you know at this point that hoping for something as supposedly inevitable as sleep is a waste of time. Some nights you’ll get lucky, the stars will align and you’ll fade into bliss as soon as your head hits the pillow, but those nights are so few and far between that they might as well be nothing but coincidences. It was much harder during the earlier days. Countless checkups, thousands of desperate Google searches and Reddit posts, downing melatonin like the next gummy could solve all your problems.

And yet, as the savory scent of chicken soup lingers closer, you can feel your eyelids grow heavier and heavier.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” Eunha says, nudging you gently. “The soup is gonna get cold if you don’t eat it now.”

“Right.” You sit up, finding yourself mere inches from her bright smile, the steam from the soup wafting in between you two. She brings a spoonful of the warming liquid to your lips, blowing on it first to cool it down.

“Open wide,” she says.

“I can feed myself.”

She rolls her eyes dramatically. “Humor me for a sec. Besides, when’s the next time a pretty girl like me is gonna spoon feed you soup?”

You stifle a chuckle at her shamelessness, reluctantly parting your lips. The saltiness washes over your tastebuds, warming your entire body as the liquid slides down your throat. It’s the same cheap chicken soup you’ve eaten before when money was scarce, yet something about it feels different; like it’s healing your heart, not your stomach. Perhaps your illness is messing with your tastebuds, but whatever the reason, it tastes way better than it normally would.

“See, was that so hard?” Eunha teases. A buzz from her pocket interrupts her from giving you a second spoonful. “Sorry, I need to take this real quick, it’s my boyfriend.”

So she does have a boyfriend.

“Yeah, go ahead,” you say, retrieving the bowl from her. She gives you an appreciative grin before walking over to the kitchen and answering the call.

Whatever goes on in Eunha’s personal life is her business, not yours. Yet, you can’t exactly stop your ears from catching onto glimpses of words, attempting to decipher some kind of meaning through the fog. None of it is coherent, but her disappointed sighs and harsh whispers don’t exactly paint a pretty picture—certainly not one you expect from a loving couple.

After a brief moment, Eunha walks back into the living room, her expression noticeably darker than before. The smile that she usually dons is jarringly absent and her eyes are glossy, as if she’s on the brink of tears.

“Sorry, um… I have to go,” she mutters, unable to meet your eyes. “I have to pick up my boyfriend, he’s, uh… been drinking again.”

You can’t help but feel worried at her sudden downtrodden look, unfamiliar on her face. “That’s alright. Will you be okay?”

“Uh, yeah, I’ll be fine.” She tries to put on a reassuring smile, but the look of dread dripping from her eyes and the lack of soul in her expression only leaves you more anxious than before. “He gets like this sometimes. It’s… nothing, really.”

An unfamiliar feeling grows in the pit of your stomach, an urge to provide some ounce of comfort. But this isn’t your place to intervene; that’s what you keep telling yourself, at least.

“I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow then? Or whenever you feel better.” Eunha quickly gathers her things and heads towards the door, but Yokai jumps in front of her.

“Bye, Yokai. I hope this isn’t the only time I see you,” she says, offering him a few gentle pets. Right before she disappears behind the door, Eunha looks back at you, holding an expression you can’t quite read. The door shuts with an audible click, and the vast emptiness of your apartment envelopes you once again.

Suffice to say, you don’t get much sleep that night.

______________________________________________________________

“So…” Eunha tilts her head to give you a better look. “What do you think?”

You shrug. “It’s… pink.”

Her lips curl into a pout, unsatisfied with your answer. “This is the first time you’ve seen me dye my hair and that’s all you can say?”

It’s another quiet night at the store, somehow quieter than usual. These late night chats with Eunha have become a sort of tradition between you two, a tradition you’ve grown decently fond of these past few weeks. Nowadays, she doesn’t even bother with the alcohol, instead simply asking you if you want to watch the stars with her. The chilly nights are still a bit bothersome, but the company more than makes up for it at this point.

Conversations mostly consist of listening to her talk about things in her personal life, her school, her friends, and occasionally, her boyfriend. Sometimes she’ll ask questions about your own life. You try your best to answer, but frankly, you don’t consider there to be anything worth noting. She’ll pry a bit, but respects your choice to be quiet about these things. A gesture that you’ve come to appreciate.

“What am I supposed to say?” you ask her.

“Anything,” she says. “Whatever’s on your mind. I just wanna know what your opinion is.”

“But it’s your hair, why should my opinion matter?”

“Maybe it doesn’t, but that doesn’t make me any less curious.” She shifts herself towards you, giving you a good view of her new look. “So, tell me. What do you think?”

A loaded question for sure. You know better than to be too honest about these kinds of things, but you also know that she won’t be satisfied unless you put effort towards a real, honest answer. You lean in to better analyze her features, tracing every single detail of not just her hair but the visage that it crowns.

She’s cute, you think. You know. The bright pink of her hair brings out the porcelain of her skin, giving her the appearance of a doll, well crafted and loved by its creator. Every single feature is perfectly and meticulously placed, down to the spacing of her eyelashes and the angle of her nose. It’s no surprise the amount of stories she has about getting hit on in random places. Maybe if you had a bit more confidence and a bit less sense, you would’ve ended up like one of those stories. But you know better than to indulge those kinds of thoughts, especially one about a coworker.

“It looks… nice,” you utter after a moment of thinking.

Eunha softly chuckles to herself. “I guess that’s about as good of an answer I’m gonna get from you.” She leans back against her palms, releasing a deep breath into the night. “You’re pretty fun to talk to.”

You raise an eyebrow at her. 99% of your conversations consist of her talking while you listen and offer the occasional nod. She might as well be speaking to a brick wall with a conscience.

“I’m serious,” she says, laughing at your expression. “Y’know, a lot of girls like a guy that can listen as well as you do.”

“Thanks, I guess.”

Her lips quiver in hesitation before speaking again. “Do you… have a girlfriend?”

You shake your head no.

“Boyfriend? Partner? I don’t judge.”

No again.

“Hmm…” She nods, her mind falling into deep thought. “That’s surprising.”

“Is it?” you argue. “If I remember correctly, you said I was ‘the least charming person you’ve ever met’.”

“That was a joke!” she exclaims. “I’m sure there’s someone out there that thinks you’re charming.”

You shrug, letting your gaze float to the stars in contemplation. You’ve had your fair share of relationships in the past, good and bad. You thought you would spend the rest of your life with the last girl, but as fate would have it, that just wasn’t in the cards for either of you. The days spent lazing in each other’s arms suddenly turned into nights where being in the same room was unbearable, and the minor quirks you once adored became the topic of all your shouting matches that punctuated the end of your relationship.

So now you’re here, working at a convenience store during the ungodly hours of the night and going home to a cat that likely wants you dead.

“That’s a possibility,” you say, not wanting to sound too nihilistic.

“Come on, give yourself some credit.” Eunha pats your shoulder supportively. “I’ve seen how some of the female customers look at you.”

You can’t help but grimace at her words. “They’re not really… my type.”

“Then what is your type?” she asks, eyes wide with intrigue.

Another loaded question, one that you honestly don’t know the answer to. Or perhaps, an answer that you don’t want to materialize, for fear of the can of worms it would open, so you take the easy way out.

“I don’t know. I’m not really interested in dating right now.”

“That’s lame, dating is… Well, it should be fun,” she says. A glimpse of something hides beneath her expression, nigh imperceptible if it wasn’t for that brief glint in her eyes. “I’m going to a club with my friends this weekend for my birthday, you should come! Maybe I can set you up with one of them.”

“No, absolutely not,” you adamantly refuse. A club is the last place you would ever want to go to on a weekend. Bumping against sweaty strangers in a cramped space while bass boosted garbage spews from the speakers isn’t your idea of fun.

“Please, it’s for my birthday!” she begs. “It’ll be fun, I swear!”

“Eunha.”

She clasps her hands together, pouting her lip and flashing you those large puppy eyes. “Please~”

You don’t consider yourself to be spineless or a pushover; the exact opposite, in fact. The less you do for others, the less issues you’ll have going forward.

But it is really, really difficult to say no whenever she gives you that face.

You sigh, averting your gaze to hide the blush creeping against your cheeks. “...What does your friend look like?”

Eunha squeals in delight, fishing her phone from her pocket. “Here.”

She hands you her phone, displaying a photo of a woman around your age. Long, wavy hair cascades perfectly down her shoulders, framing her delicate features, while a dress made of fiery purples and reds clings to her slim frame, giving her an air of class and maturity. A woman that’s, to put it bluntly, way out of your league.

“Her name is Yuju,” Eunha explains. “She’s really into music, and she takes pole dancing classes on the weekends. Pretty hot, eh?”

“I suppose,” you say. “You think she’ll find me ‘charming’?”

“Ye—Hmm… I guess we’ll find out.”

Not reassuring in the slightest. You’ve gone and doomed yourself to a weekend of brushing backsides with the worst people you can imagine, people who have no regard for personal space or public perception, all for a woman you don’t know.

Well, not a woman you don’t know. It’s for Eunha’s birthday, after all. Her and those damn eyes.

______________________________________________________________

Eunha is good company. You like having her around, even if you’ll never admit that to her. She’s good—decent at her job, and in between the stench of hot dogs and the occasional rude customer, there’s comfort in knowing that there’s someone like her on this godforsaken planet.

You can’t say the same about her friends.

“Hey~!”

“OMG, you’re so tall!”

“Eunha, your friend is so handsome!”

Skip the pleasantries entirely, you’d rather be anywhere but here right now. They don’t even try to hide their early signs of intoxication as they sway to the muffled beats leaking through the walls of the club and onto the streets outside. Eunha, seemingly sensing your discomfort, stays by your side.

“They can be a handful at times, but they’re nice,” Eunha says.

“Eh… What about her?” You discreetly gesture towards one of her friends that’s been sending you death threats through a not-so-subtle glare the second you arrived.

“Oh, that’s SinB. She’s, uh… She’s friendly once you get to know her.” Eunha gives you a small yet reassuring grin, which honestly does little to comfort you. You appreciate the gesture nonetheless.

The line creeps ever closer towards the entrance of the club, signified by the trashy music growing louder with each step. Just a peek through the door and you’re already grimacing at the thought of having to spend a single second in this wretched haven of hedonism.

“Which one is Yuju?” you ask, trying to get your mind off of the impending dread building in your stomach.

“She’s running a little late, stuck in traffic.” Eunha smirks at you, waggling her eyebrows. “You excited to meet her in person?”

You shrug. “I don’t know. I guess?”

She rolls her eyes at you. “Word of advice, try not to be too much of an emotionless robot in front of her.”

You open your mouth to argue, but the bass blasting from the speakers drowns out anything you try to say. Not like you can even think of a proper argument with how overwhelming everything is.

As you follow Eunha deeper into the club, you instantly regret not making up some lame excuse at the last minute and bolting. You can barely take two steps without bumping into anyone, a task made more difficult with the lack of proper lighting and the disorienting stench of some unknown substance floating around. The smell emanating from the hot dog machine at work is more favorable to this.

“Here you go, girl!” one of Eunha’s friends exclaims, gesturing towards a seating area sectioned off with velvet rope. On the table sits a light up centerpiece reading “Happy Birthday, Eunha!” surrounded by an abundance of expensive-looking alcohol. Her friend must be loaded because there’s no way Eunha could afford any of this with a convenience store salary. Consequently, your present for her pales in comparison to this kind of extravagance.

“Oh my god!” Eunha squeals, hopping with excitement, “Thank you so much, this is insane!”

The way her face lights up with happiness almost makes coming here worth it. So, you do your best to endure, downing shot after shot with everyone else while trashy music bleeds into your brain. Eunha steals glances at you from the far end of the booth, offering an apologetic look as her rowdier friends bombard you with incoherent words and shot glasses overflowing with poison. You meet each look with a smile and a simple wave, yet it’s becoming an increasingly herculean task to not let the lingering burn of alcohol in your throat manifest itself onto your visage.

A woman with long wavy hair approaches Eunha, and the two pull each other into a giddy embrace, exchanging words and excited giggles. You can’t quite make out their conversation—not like you’re trying to eavesdrop—but with the way Eunha is pointing at you and the vaguely familiar silhouette of the other woman, you’d have to guess that she’s probably Yuju.

“Hello!” she hollers, her voice straining against the distorted thump of the speakers. “Are you Eunha’s friend?”

“Yeah.”

Yuju extends her hand towards you, sporting a polite grin. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

In any other scenario, maybe you could’ve had a decent conversation with her. Hell, maybe you could’ve even fallen in love with her. You’re not blind; she’s certainly an attractive woman. But in a place like this, where you’re constantly fighting the urge to up and leave, it’s impossible to try and form any kind of connection. And you genuinely try. More for Eunha’s sake than yours, but the attempt is still there.

Halfway through the barely discernible wall of words, you feel a pressure on your thigh. It creeps upwards slowly, inch by inch, stopping just shy of your crotch. Yuju bites her lip at you, her eyes half-lidded and heavy with seduction, leaning in until you can feel the heat from her breath against your ear. Thus far, you’ve been guessing her words and trying to formulate a response based on what you could lip read. But what she whispers into your ear rings true, like the whole world went silent just so you could hear her.

“Let’s cut the bullshit already and get to the fun part. I haven’t had dick in so long, I just need to feel you inside me.”

The rush of adrenaline sparked from her words alone leaves you reeling as you feel yourself being tugged around by this woman you just met, struggling to keep balance in the sea of faceless strangers. The sounds, the sights, the fucking everything about this place melts reality like goo seeping through your fingers, where the only constant is the fire in your windpipe and the sign for the women’s bathroom growing larger with each step.

This kind of spontaneity is probably good for someone like you. These days, you barely make an effort to make friends as it is, the thought of going out and actively trying to date didn’t even cross your mind until recently. It’s not like the thought of having sex with Yuju doesn’t excite you a little, you are human after all. With all the bleak memories you have from your last relationship, maybe it’s time that you let it go and let something good happen to you for once.

But is this good? You’re about to have sex with a woman you just met, in the bathroom of a club of all places. Exciting, sure, but good? You don’t even have a condom on your person, and judging by her current state, it doesn’t seem like Yuju has one either. All you have is your wallet and Eunha’s gift.

Eunha.

By some act of divine intervention or your own instincts, your eyes snap to the middle of the dance floor. Through the sea of drunken silhouettes, you see Eunha, frozen against the continuous wave of moving bodies. Her smile is gone. There’s a man there, slowly encroaching on her. Maybe they’re just talking. Her friends are around, surely they can protect her if she’s in any danger.

But they’re not there. Most are still at the booth, inhaling bottle after bottle without a second thought, while one pulls you towards the bathroom, too horny to consider the consequences of her own actions.

The man touches Eunha’s shoulder. She tries to swat him away, but he’s bigger than her. Much bigger. Like a vicious wolf cornering a poor rabbit.

Without another moment of hesitation, you break free from Yuju’s grasp, shoving your way through the crowd with complete disregard for everyone except Eunha. Most people will think you’re the biggest idiot for throwing away an opportunity with a woman like Yuju, but you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if you choose meaningless sex over the safety of your only friend.

You grab the man’s wrist, pulling Eunha behind you. “Get away from her,” you growl.

“Fuck off.” He tries to shove you aside, but you stand firm, refusing to budge in the slightest. You’re probably—no, definitely—a fool for trying to stand up to a guy built like a fridge. The scrawny guy at the store is nothing compared to this giant meathead. But as you feel Eunha cling onto the back of your jacket, her hands trembling in fear, you know that you’ll stand before the wolf time and time again to protect the poor rabbit.

Before things can get even more heated, you grab Eunha and make a dash towards the exit, knocking over a few people in the process. Even so, you don’t stop running until the cool air of the outside bites at your cheeks.

“Shit,” you pant, leaning against the wall of a neighboring building to catch your breath. “Are you ok—”

Eunha wraps her arms around you, pressing her face into your chest. Every breath she takes quivers like the last leaf on a dying tree, desecrated by a furious storm. All you can do is hold her, trying to provide some ounce of comfort as she sobs in your arms.

The world is cruel to you, a fact you came to terms with long ago. It’s stolen many of the things you held dear, leaving you to cling to the pieces left behind and try to rebuild your life out of nothing. You built walls, avoided people entirely, did everything you could do so you never have to feel that kind of pain again. And after all that, you’re left to simply exist. Survive. Not ‘live’ in the way people somehow wake up with the sun and breathe in the dawn of a new day with hope in their hearts. Just be.

And then Eunha came into your life, walking into the doors of the convenience store with her bubbly smile and boundless energy. All the time you’ve worked alongside her, listening to her greet every single customer with such enthusiasm, enduring her brutally honest criticisms of your personality, succumbing to her demands every time she flashes those damn eyes at you, she’s made you look at life differently, whether you liked it or not. She didn’t even have to chip away at your walls at all—you tore them down yourself and built a grand entrance into your soul just for her. Because you wanted to. Because you like the way she smiles like nothing bad could ever happen, you like how she manages to find the good in everything and everyone, and you like that she still wants to talk to you despite your brick wall of a personality.

To see her like this, breaking down in your arms, on her birthday of all days, is nothing short of soul crushing.

“Thank you for that,” Eunha murmurs, her voice tiny and fragile. “Um, can we go?”

“Sure,” you reply in a calming tone. “Where to?”

“Anywhere but here.”

The two of you wander the streets in silence, nothing but the muffled hum of faraway chatter and the occasional car passing by to keep you company. She stays deathly quiet, a state you’ve never seen her in. With everything that just happened, you don’t blame her, but you can’t help but feel chills at her solemn expression. It’s like the sun’s gone dark, leaving the whole world in a forever winter.

You pass by a 7/11, not thinking much of it, but Eunha stops underneath its glowing sign. “...You wanna drink?” she asks, giving you a small yet hopeful smile.

Alcohol is probably the last thing either of you need at the moment, yet you find yourself nodding anyway. It’s hard saying no to that face.

______________________________________________________________

Time ticks by at a pace more glacial than the frigid winds buffeting you as Eunha chugs down her second can of cheap beer, crumpling it in her hands as if to release all her pent up emotions inside. On a normal day, you would’ve found it a little funny, maybe even cute, to think that the living embodiment of a summer day has inner turmoil that she can only externalize through the crushing of an aluminum can. But on tonight of all nights, the shrill crunch becomes a harsh reminder that life’s cruelty shows no mercy.

“Are you okay?” you utter, unable to move your gaze from the ground. Of course it’s a stupid question—who would be okay after almost getting assaulted?—but, it’s a start, if anything.

“Um… I don’t know.” Her despondent voice is punctuated by the metallic crash of aluminum against concrete. “Do you want the short version or the long version?”

“I have time.”

Eunha inhales deeply, letting the chilling winds of the night fill her lungs, before breathing it back out into the elements. “No. I’m not okay, and I haven’t been for a long time. I know, it sounds a bit dramatic, but it’s just…” she sighs, “It’s just how I feel.”

“I don’t think you’re being dramatic at all,” you reassure her, earning an appreciative grin in response.

“Um… God, I really don’t know where to start with this,” she says, her face falling into her hands. “School has been kicking my ass lately, which isn’t that big of an issue in the shitstorm that is my life, but it’s there. Last week, one of my professors chewed me out for accidentally submitting the wrong file for an assignment, so I spent the entire day just crying in bed.” A small laugh leaves her nose at the fact, void of any humor.

“And then my friends. They’re great and I love them with all my heart, but they can be such a handful.” With each word, she sinks deeper and deeper into herself as the burden she’s been silently carrying threatens to end her. “Sowon—the tall one that paid for the table—she has a reputation for sleeping around campus, which is fine, I’m not gonna tell her what she can and can’t do with her own body. But her life is filled with so much drama, and I end up having to play therapist for her, and it just gets so exhausting.”

You nod in understanding, keeping silent as she spills out her grievances. It’s not a pleasant sight, but pain rarely is. This image that she’s built up for herself as this happy-go-lucky fairy of a person, the image that you’ve consumed without question because doing otherwise would be like the sky falling around you, tears itself down to reveal the ugly truth underneath: That she’s human. And all humans suffer, even the ones that you wish didn’t.

“You remember the night I came into work with my hair dyed?” she asks after a long pause, her gaze fixated on the crumpled can below. “I broke up with my boyfriend that morning. I just… couldn’t handle all the hurt and neglect anymore, so I left.”

The revelation comes as a shock to you, even if all the signs were there in hindsight. “I’m sorry to hear that,” you offer, nervously fidgeting with the tiny box in your pocket.

“Y’know, he always hated when I dyed my hair. Said I looked like a slut whenever I did it.” The word sounds so crass against her gentle voice, like a grisly wound on unblemished skin. You feel an unfamiliar anger boiling inside of you at the notion that someone would even think to hurt her.

“And with how things turned out tonight, maybe he was right—”

“Hey,” you lightly interject. “I don’t think you look like… that at all.”

Her dejection cracks a little, giving way to a small smile accompanied by the faint hum of a chuckle. “Thanks. Maybe if that other guy thought the same as you, I wouldn’t feel like this.”

With a deep breath, you retrieve the small box from your pocket and hand it to her. “Here.”

“What’s this?” Eunha takes the box from your hand, her brow raised in curiosity.

“Your birthday present. It’s not much, but… yeah. It’s not much.”

Tentatively, she opens it up, revealing a necklace with a rabbit pendant hanging from it. Her face lights up, and for a moment, you forget that she was ever sad in the first place. A newfound sense of determination wells within you, and something that you’ve kept hidden deep inside finally comes to light: you would do anything to protect that smile.

“This is so cute, I love it!” she remarks, fiddling with the chain as she tries and fails to put it on. “Uh, a little help?”

“Sure.” You take the necklace from her, and as she pulls up her hair to reveal the delicate skin of her neck, your hands begin to tremor nervously, making it nearly impossible to secure the necklace.

“Is everything alright back there?” she teases. “I can feel you shaking.”

“Y-yeah, no, it’s fine.” The stutter in your voice dashes any attempts at trying to sound natural. It’s a simple act, putting a necklace around your friend, but something about it feels so intimate, like the first hint of warmth after a long and arduous storm. Once you finally secure the clasp in place, a breath you didn’t know you were holding empties from your lungs.

“Thanks,” she says, admiring the rabbit pendant. “Thanks for everything, really.”

“I didn’t do much.”

“But you did something,” she reasons, her voice lilting with an air of melancholy, “You did a lot more than anyone else ever did for me.”

Eunha’s eyes wander upwards to the stars, the same ones you’ve spent nearly every night under, listening to her talk about everything and nothing all at once. Tiny blips of light a billion miles away, the only witnesses to your midnight conversations about the mundanities of life. To them, your little exchange of words seems small and meaningless, but to you, these talks with her mean everything.

“I’ll make sure to pay you back one day,” Eunha utters.

There’s no need. Your existence is more than enough.

______________________________________________________________

In a past life, you used to curse how consistently time seems to move without regard for anything else. After one of the worst nights of your life, how dare the sun have the audacity to rise up in the morning like your whole world hasn’t just collapsed? The lights peaking through your blinds felt like a big “fuck you” from the world. Everyone struggles, get over yourself, you lazy prick. Before you realized it, the negativity took up every corner of your mind, constant noise rattling around your head every second of your existence, bleeding into the nights that seemed endless as you could do nothing but stare at the ceiling.

But nowadays, those thoughts seem so long ago, like a vague memory. Maybe it hasn’t gotten easier to sleep, but it’s quieter now. Peaceful, even. It barely even occurred to you how much time has passed since then until a certain coworker of yours decides to remind you.

“Happy birthday!” Eunha pops up from behind the counter, donning a dingy party hat and holding a cupcake with a single lit candle embedded in it.

“H-huh? W-what—”

“Make a wish!” She pushes the cupcake in your face, a potential fire hazard if your hair was just an inch longer. Confused by the sudden onslaught, all you can do is stand there like an idiot, eyes tracing over the silly hat adorning her rosy head. It’s cute though.

“It’s your birthday, right?” Eunha pouts, reading your confused expression. “Or did the calendar lie to me?”

You pause for a moment, running the numbers in your head as you try to remember how much time has passed. “Right,” you utter, not quite meeting her eyes. “Yeah, it’s my birthday.” Without another word, you grab a broom and begin sweeping as a couple approaches the store, hoping their impending presence will get your mind off the topic. With how life has been going these past few years, it’s getting harder and harder to find a reason to celebrate.

Was.

The gentle chime of the entrance rings throughout the store, yet Eunha’s cheerful greeting that usually follows is hauntingly absent, you nearly greet the customers yourself just to fill the unusual silence. Before you can check to see if she’s alright, you’re interrupted by a male voice.

“Hey, you know where the beers are?” the guy asks. You silently gesture towards the fridges, taking the opportunity to eye the couple. The girl seems generally unremarkable, not unlike the usual customer at this hour, but something about the guy feels oddly familiar, despite his face not matching anyone in your recent memory. Something about the way he drapes his arm carelessly over the girl like she’s an accessory rather than a person, or the way he doesn’t even bother to look through the tiny store for more than two seconds before asking for the answer just pisses you off.

“Thanks, pal,” he says, clapping your shoulder in a way that feels anything but friendly as he passes by. Out of all the expletives, middle fingers, and death threats that have been thrown your way by people far worse than this guy, none of them have managed to strike such an anger-inducing chord with you as that simple pat on your shoulder. But why?

You look over at the counter to check on Eunha, only to find a lone cupcake and a party hat peeking out from behind it. “Are you alright?” you ask, brows furrowed as you peer over the counter at her. All you receive in response is a panicked look and a harsh “Shhh!”.

“Hey pal, can you ring me— Eunha?” The two of them lock eyes in some weird staring contest, while you and his girlfriend or whoever she is are left completely out of the loop. You glance back and forth between them, trying to gain some semblance of understanding in their eyes for what feels like an eternity, until it finally clicks in your head.

The hint of familiarity despite never meeting him and the abundance of bad vibes he exudes all make sense — he’s Eunha’s ex-boyfriend.

You hastily scan his pack of beers and his box of condoms. “$20.55.”

“Why don’t you go wait outside for me, babe?” you hear him whisper to his new girl, unashamedly staring at her backside as she saunters out of the store. Eunha sighs, standing up from her hiding spot and leaving the party hat to dangle sadly in between her fingertips.

“So,” he continues, not even sparing you a single glance, “You’re still working in this shit hole?”

“Yup,” she replies, gaze glued to the floor. “Gotta pay rent somehow.”

He scoffs. “If you just come back to me—”

“I’m sorry, what the fuck?” You freeze at her sudden outburst, not used to this side of her. “Are you seriously asking me to come crawling back to you after everything you fucking did!?”

“Look, babe—”

“Don’t fucking ‘babe’ me, you asshole!” Her breath starts to get heavier as tears well up in her eyes and her fingers turn white around the dainty string of the party hat. “And don’t you have a new girlfriend anyway!? What the hell is wrong with you!?”

“What, you mean her?” His head flings back in a guttural laugh at the insinuation that he would find himself in a committed relationship with his “new girl”. Hell, if things weren’t so tense, you would be laughing at that idea too. “She’s just who I’m banging for tonight since you fucking left!”

“For fuck’s sake,” she groans, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Just pay for your shit and leave. Please.”

He scoffs. “Quit being a fucking bitch and—”

“If you leave now, I’ll let you have everything for free,” you interject, each breath heavy and quivering with anger. For the first time since this whole altercation, he acknowledges your presence and simply scoffs, eyeing the two of you back and forth. With a smirk, he grabs his things off the counter and backs away, chuckling to himself like there’s some kind of inside joke that neither you nor Eunha are a part of. As the door chime rings to signal his exit, you hear the huff of a harsh syllable underneath his breath that turns the next few moments into a vague blur.

“Slut.”

You’ve never considered yourself to be particularly athletic—average at best, but still decent enough to not be picked last during childhood games. Yet, as you grab the cupcake from the counter and haphazardly chuck it through the air, you swear that Shohei Ohtani himself would’ve been impressed at the accuracy of your pitch as it arcs perfectly and splatters against the back of that asshole’s head. You freeze in disbelief of your own actions, barely registering the pink frosting-covered look of rage stomping towards you.

Eunha pulls you out of the doorway and quickly locks the door before pulling you into the break room, away from the view of the windows. Banging glass and muffled expletives are soon replaced by the monotonous whir of the fluorescents as she shuts the door behind her.

“Oh my god, are you insane?!” Eunha exclaims, trying and failing to suppress a grin.

“I-I, uh… I don’t know. Probably.” A breathy chuckle escapes your lips. And then another one. Soon, you’re keeling over the floor in laughter, replaying the impact of the cupcake over and over in your head.

A second chorus of laughter mixes with yours in a symphony of hysterics as Eunha joins you on the floor. Your head starts to ache and your stomach grows sore, but the first bout of genuine joy you feel after years of nothing but cold isolation overpowers any kind of pain.

Being here, in this moment with her, is the best birthday gift you’ve ever received.

______________________________________________________________

Even after the clock passes midnight and your birthday officially ends, Eunha still insists on doing something to celebrate. That sweet piece of payback against her ex was more than enough for you, but as always, it’s hard to say no when her eyes light up with so much excitement.

You wait in the solitude of your living room, with nothing but Yokai to pass the time. He purrs contently on your lap, being oddly well-behaved for once. Maybe he knows Eunha is coming and is in a better mood than usual. Are black cats telepathic?

As if on cue, he jumps off your lap and scurries towards the front door, a millisecond before a barrage of knocks and a muffled “Ayo!” sound off from the other side. It doesn’t take a genius to know who the owner of that voice is.

“Surprise!” Eunha exclaims, balancing a store-bought cake and a champagne bottle in her arms.

“I’m not sure if it counts as a surprise if I know that you’re coming,” you joke, taking the contents from her arms.

“Yeah yeah, whatever you say, birthday boy.” Yokai impatiently nuzzles his head against Eunha’s leg, practically begging for her attention. “Well, hello again, cutie! Did you miss me?”

He purrs in response to getting showered by Eunha’s affection. You place the cake on the dining table and peer curiously at the champagne bottle, only to find the words “Sparkling Apple Cider” written in fancy gold lettering.

“Apple Cider?” you question.

“Yeah,” Eunha responds. “Did you want actual champagne or…?”

“No no, this is great.” You flash her a reassuring grin, which she returns in kind, punctuated by the cute swell of her cheeks.

“Phew, I’m glad. I thought I read you wrong for a second.” She plops comfortably onto your couch like she’s been to your apartment a thousand times before, Yokai swiftly taking his place onto her lap. “So, what do you usually do for your birthday?”

“Nothing, really,” you sheepishly admit. “If it wasn’t for you, I probably wouldn’t have remembered it was today.”

“Whaaat? That’s no fun.”

“Yeah, well…”

You trail off as the ghosts of your past come back to haunt you. Each year, the faces around the table seemed to become fewer and fewer until it was just you and the cat. Eventually, you just stopped bothering with it. It’s just another day, indiscernible from every other one. Sure, you could go on about why no one bothered to contact you, but It’s not like you’re completely blameless—why didn’t you reach out? Every night spent with your eyes forcibly pried open, you basically had all the time in the world to one, single message to anyone. And yet, you didn’t.

It’s your fault alone that things ended up this way.

You feel a soft pair of hands suddenly wrap around yours, forcibly pulling you out of the black hole in your mind that threatened to envelop you.

“Why don’t we make this one extra special then?” Without waiting for you to answer, Eunha pulls you towards the kitchen and pushes you down into a chair.

“What are you doing?” you ask, confused yet charmed by her usual antics.

“Just wait a sec,” she says, rummaging through your cupboards like a mouse looking for cheese. You watch in amused silence as she searches through every nook and cranny for… whatever it is that she needs. You can’t quite wrap your head around why she’s going through all of this effort, in the dead of night, for you of all people. You’re just her coworker in a dingy little convenience store.

Although, it’s hard not to feel insanely lucky when she turns to you with that impossibly bright smile that only you get the luxury of seeing.

“Okay, here we go!” Eunha exclaims, taking the plastic lid off of the cake and fiddling with a single match.

You tilt your head curiously. “Is that a—”

“I forgot to get candles and this is all that you have, alright?” she playfully snaps at you. Finally, once the match is lit, she places it gingerly in the center of the cake. “Make a wish, birthday boy!”

As you gaze into the small, singular flame before you, it dawns on you that you have no idea what to wish for. Money? A bigger house? The ability to have a good night’s sleep? Blowing out a silly little candle isn’t going to magically change your life overnight, no matter what the occasion is.

But as you look past the flame, you see Eunha gleaming back at you, waiting with bated breath for you to make that wish. The passion, the excitement, the hope swirling around in just her eyes alone sends a wave of warmth throughout your body that seeps deep into the fibers of your bones. A wish finally forms inside of your head.

You blow out the match, extinguishing the flame and letting your wish float into the air along with the smoke.

“Woohoo!” Eunha cheers. “What did you wish for?”

Heat rushes to your cheeks as you suddenly feel sheepish under her gaze. “I-I, uh—”

“Wait, don’t tell me!” she frantically interjects. “I forgot, if you say your wish out loud, it won’t come true!”

A chuckle brushes past your lips. If there’s even a tiny chance that what she said is true, then you’ll gladly take a vow of silence just to keep your wish close to your heart.

Eunha cuts two generous slices of cakes for the both of you while you pour the sparkling cider into mismatched mugs - the only drinkware you have that even comes remotely close to fitting the occasion. Your apartment becomes enveloped in a comfortable silence, save for Yokai’s content purring on the couch and an occasional “Mmm” from Eunha in-between mouthfuls.

As you peer to the side, you notice a small glob of frosting on the corner of her lips. “You have a little something here,” you chuckle, gesturing to the area. She tries to wipe it off, but somehow completely misses the mark.

“No, it’s still there,” you say, unable to hold back a smirk at her failed attempt. Without thinking, you reach out and gently wipe the frosting from the corner of her mouth with your thumb. The soft warmth of her cheek sends a jolt through your body, and only then do you realize just how close you are. Her eyes widen slightly in surprise, but she doesn’t pull away. For a moment, time seems to stand still as you gaze into the deep obsidian of her irises, your thumb still lingering on her lips.

Eunha’s cheeks flush a rosy pink that mimics her hair, and you quickly retract your hand, clearing your throat awkwardly. “Um, got it,” you mutter, avoiding her gaze.

“Thanks,” she says softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

The air between you feels charged, as if closing the distance even a little bit would shock you. You steal a glance at her and find her doing the same, quickly turning away after a mere whisper of eye contact. For that split second, you notice her eyes shimmering with an emotion that you can’t quite place. The silence stretches on, growing heavier with unspoken words.

Eunha breaks the tension first with a soft chuckle. “So, uh, how was your birthday? Sorry I couldn’t do much more than this.”

“N-no, it’s fine. I thought it was great, actually,” you admit, a small grin tugging at your lips.

“Yeah?” she says, beaming at you. “I’m glad.”

“Me too.”

She stands up and begins to gather her things. “I should probably head home now. It’s getting—well, I guess it’s already late.”

A pang of disappointment hits your chest. “Right.”

Each step feels like you’re wearing cinder blocks as you walk her to the front door. Yokai perks up from his spot at the couch, mimicking your own feelings of panic as Eunha nears the exit. Why are you acting like this? You’ll see her at work tomorrow. Despite your attempts at rationalizing, the growing urge to stop her is becoming harder and harder to ignore.

As she takes a step outside of your apartment, she turns to you. For a moment, she simply gazes into your eyes. You can’t quite read them—it’s hard when you’re too distracted by how unbelievably pretty they are—but it feels like she’s waiting. Waiting for you to say something, maybe? With the thumping of your heart growing louder in your ears, the ability to focus suddenly becomes an uphill battle.

“I, uh, I had fun tonight.”

You take a breath. “Y-yeah, me too.”

“I guess I’ll see you at work then?” Her voice lilts up, as if she’s asking a question. A loaded question, even. An answer sits on the tip of your tongue, desperately waiting to be heard by her ears. Just a couple words, and yet it feels like overlooking a cliff with no end in sight. A free fall into new, terrifying territory.

But, as you’ve learned time and time again, it’s hard saying no to that face.

“A-actually,” you begin, your voice almost getting caught in your throat, “it’s late and it might be unsafe tonight, so… I was wondering… do you want to stay the night?”

If you had more than just pure adrenaline pushing you forward, you could’ve probably used a better choice of words. Something smoother and less uncertain. Something more charming, as Eunha would put it. But all of these thoughts sink to the back of your mind when you’re suddenly attacked by the softest lips you’ve ever had the pleasure of experiencing. Like muscle memory, your hands wrap around Eunha’s delicate waist, gently pushing her into the door until it shuts with an audible click.

All the second guessing, the worrying, the negativity, everything is completely thrown out the window as you sink into her lips. You let yourself get lost in her touch, pulling her close to you like she’s your matching puzzle piece. In the midst of needy touching and sharp breaths, a wave of calmness washes over you. Like all of this is meant to be.

“W-wait…” Eunha gently pushes you off of her, worry filling her expression.

“What’s wrong?” you ask. “Do you not want thi—”

“I do want this. I want you, more than you could ever imagine, but I just…” she sighs, her grip on your shoulders weakening slightly. “I really like working at the store and talking to you every night and feeling like my life isn’t a constant trainwreck. I need that consistency in my life. If we do this, no matter what happens tonight, I need you to promise me that nothing will change between us.”

She looks up at you with desperate, pleading eyes. You know, probably more than anyone, just how much pain she holds inside, invisible to the outside world. The two of you are alike in that way. The only difference is that she kept on trying to live despite her scars, while you stopped trying because of them.

“I’m not a perfect person by any means,” you start softly, gently caressing her cheek. “Before I met you, I felt like I was barely even human. I was just a body without a soul, wandering aimlessly. But then, I met you and everything changed.”

Eunha sinks her face into your hand, peering at you with those damn eyes. You’ve seen them light up like fireworks during her highest highs and pour like a perilous storm during her lowest lows, but you’ve never once seen them completely empty, void of any emotion. For once, you feel hope that things can get better, and she is the living, breathing reason why.

“Whenever I’m with you, nights don’t feel as cold and the stars seem to shine brighter than I thought was possible,” you continue. “Breathing becomes easier and I laugh harder than I ever have before. Life doesn’t just become bearable—it becomes enjoyable. And that’s all because of you.”

As your words linger in the gap between lips, you feel the haze that clouded your mind for so long finally lift, making way for light to shine through. A pure, warming light with pink hair and porcelain skin and cheeks like puffed up marshmallows.

“I take back everything I said before,” Eunha says with a smirk. “That was the most charming thing I’ve ever heard.”

Before you even have time to roll your eyes, she’s kissing you again with a newfound passion. You’re quick to follow her lead, running your hands over the curves she’s been hiding underneath her work uniform and taking mental notes of the spots that produce a cute moan. Each sensation feels like a spark of lightning being shot through your veins, driving your every movement. You want—no, need to please this woman, show her exactly just how much she means to you.

With all the adrenaline in your system, you end up pinning Eunha against the front door with an audible thud. “Someone’s eager to get things going,” she teases, short-breathed and rosy-cheeked.

“How can I not be when you’re so—”

“MRRAAOOOUWWWW!!!” Yokai cries out, his yellow eyes full of judgement as he looks at your crude display of affection from the couch. Attention whore.

Eunha chuckles. “Maybe we should—”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

You take her hand and practically drag her to the privacy of your bedroom, her excited giggles trailing behind you. As soon as the door shuts behind you, Eunha is already laying on your bed, resting comfortably as if it were her own.

“Got room for one more?” you quip.

“If it’s you, definitely.”

With an easy smile, you make your way towards her, fingers grazing up her thighs to her toned stomach and around the sensuous curve of her bosom before resting right next to her head. The moonlight peaking through the window illuminates her eyes, allowing you to see the passion and the neediness aimed directly at you.

“You’re so beautif—mmf!“

Eunha suddenly claps her hand over your mouth. “Listen, you’re very cute, but I desperately need you to take my clothes off. Now please.”

You waste no more time, diving into the crook of her neck and producing a yelp from her throat as you pepper it with kisses. Excitedly, your hands slip under her shirt to massage her full breasts. You’d be lying if you said you never imagined it would be like to cup her breasts, but actually getting to feel them in your hand is a different sensation entirely. So soft yet so firm, and perfectly bouncy. By the noises she’s making, it’s safe to assume that she’s enjoying this just as much as you are.

Eunha reaches down and strokes the outline of your cock through your jeans, her movements fueled by a primal lust. “Oh my god, I can already tell you’re so much bigger than my ex. Please, I need you inside me right fucking now,” she begs, already fidgeting with your belt.

You chuckle, not used to her lovely voice spewing out such heinous demands. Whatever the princess wants, she’ll get.

Loose clothing begins to decorate your room while a symphony of pleasurable cries and wrinkling fabric accompanies the scene. Moonlight casts shadows on your walls, depicting the beautiful act of debauchery taking place. This room, which only harbors memories of dreadfully sleepless nights, becomes a haven for you and Eunha to begin something new and wonderful.

“Can’t believe I almost let Yuju have all of this for herself,” she giggles, eyeing your length as it nears her dripping sweetness.

You lean down to briefly take her lips in yours, running your hands over her now unclothed body, bare in all its glory. “I don’t wanna think about any woman other than you right now,” you say in a low, growly tone.

“Mmm, good answer.” Eunha abruptly wraps her legs around your waist. “Now fuck me, birthday boy.”

Your cock drags against her folds, lubricating it with her juices. You feel her shiver underneath you as you lightly graze against her clit. She’s so beautiful. Completely exposed and vulnerable, all for you. With a single movement of your hips, you enter her honeypot, the two of you sharing a moan as the tip slides in.

“Shit,” you groan, drawing in a heavy breath, “We forgot a condom—”

“We work at a convenience store, we can just get a Plan B tomorrow!!” Eunha snaps before donning an apologetic look. “Sorry, I just mean—”

You interrupt her with a peck on the lips, smirking at her. “I know what you meant. I’ll shut up now.”

Pure instinct takes over as you begin to buck your hips into her, years of pent up energy and the desire to make her feel loved fueling each thrust. The crescendo of her voice every time your bodies meet is a tune like no other, and you do everything in your power just to hear that noise again and again and again and again. Sink your fingers into the meaty flesh of her thighs, lap at her perky tits, pin her arms over her head so her only choice is to succumb to the overwhelming sensation of lust.

“Perfect” doesn’t even begin to properly describe Eunha. From her bubblegum optimism that managed to melt your cold heart to the velvety tightness of her pussy as she takes you in so fucking well, there aren’t enough words in existence to explain just how much she means to you. So instead, you do your best to deliver the message through every movement. The fire in your pelvis as you fuck her heat, the soreness of your tongue as you worship every inch of her body, everything you do is testament into making sure she knows just how much you mean to her.

Love her in a way that her ex could never do.

Love her until all the pain and suffering she went through is forgotten.

Love her the way you’ve been unknowingly aching for her since the moment you laid eyes on her. Repay her for all that she’s done just by existing.

“K-keep going! Just like that!” she groans, the grip of her pussy tightening with each second. You do as she says, fucking her at the pace that she likes and hitting every spot that produces that oh-so-pretty noise from her lips. With how amazing she feels, it’s becoming increasingly difficult to ignore the building feeling in the pit of your stomach.

“Eunha…”

She grabs your face, forcing you to look at hers. “Inside me, baby. Please. I need to feel you. I want to feel you.” She peers at you with those eyes, glimmering with the light of a full moon, and pleads for you to stay inside her. How silly. Why would you beg when I would give you the whole world at the drop of a hat?

In one final thrust, you climax in her arms, wave after wave of pleasure rushing through you. Eunha shoves her face into the crook of your neck, a guttural moan escaping her lips as she experiences her own orgasm. Months of working alongside her and getting to know her, culminating into a beautiful moment of release for the both of you—and this is only the beginning.

“H-holy… shit…” Eunha pants, tracing lazy circles on your shoulder. “That was… better than I could have ever imagined.”

“Are you saying you’ve imagined this before?” you tease.

“What, you think I’m gonna work with someone that’s as sweet and as awkwardly-cute as you and not occasionally think about fucking him?” she retorts with a smirk.

The both of you share a laugh in each other’s arms, bathed in the moonlight and sweat of passion. Before long, the exhaustion of today’s events gets to the both of you, and you feel your eyes grow heavier and heavier—a sensation you haven’t felt in a long time. A final kiss marks the beginning of many more nights to come. Nights where the shadows are still and the morning becomes a moment to look forward to.

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stargazsblog · 6 months ago

Text

how to lose a girl in 10 days | ch.1 the bet

ryomen sukuna x fem!reader

ʚɞ ryomen sukuna is tall, devastatingly handsome, and the campus heartbreaker. everyone knows his name, and his reputation for leaving girls with broken hearts. but then there's you uninterested and completely unimpressed by him. you're the only girl who couldn't care less about him. when his friends tease him about it, everything changes. they challenge him with a bet to make you, the one person who isn't affected by his charm, fall in love with him in just 10 days, sukuna accepts the challenge, thinking it'll be an easy win. it's just a game, a way to prove he can get any girl he wants. but the more time he spends with you, he finds himself wanting something he never expected.

ʚɞ warning/tags: angst, fluff, romance, use of cigarettes and alcohol, jealousy, asshole sukuna, heartbreak, inspired by how to lose a guy in 10 days, college au, enemies to lovers.

ʚɞ now playing - no. 1 party anthem by arctic monkeys

note: hi guys! this is the first chapter and I'm so excited this is just about how the bet starts nothing crazyyyy YET… i can’t wait to write more! merry christmas!! <3

masterlist

“I still don’t know why I let you talk me into this,” you muttered, pulling your jacket tighter around yourself. The muffled thump of bass from inside the house was enough to make your ears ring, even from a distance. The faint smell of cigarette smoke and cheap beer mixed with the crisp winter breeze, making you wrinkle your nose.

“Because,” Shoko said, throwing an arm around your shoulder. “Deep down, you know you’ll have fun if you let yourself.” she grinned at you.

You side-eye her, “Have fun?, this is a party of drunk idiots I have to pretend I like.”

“Don't be dramatic.” Shoko rolled her eyes, patting your shoulder as she let you go. ”You spend too much time brooding alone in your dorm, anyway.”

“I call it peace,” you shot back, but Shoko was already halfway up the stairs.

The door swung open before either of you could reach it. A group of boys tumbled out, laughing and shouting, nearly knocking you over in the process. You stepped aside just in time, muttering a curse under your breath

The heat of the crowded house hit you immediately. The air was thick, almost suffocating, with the smell of sweat, spilled drinks, and overly sweet perfume. Bodies pressed together as people danced to the relentless beat of the music.

“Come on, let's get a drink,” she said, grabbing your wrist and leading you towards the kitchen. You stuck close to her, pushing past people in the crowd and avoiding eye contact as much as possible.

“This is a disaster,” you muttered as you reached the kitchen, leaning against the counter. Shoko handed you a bottle of water before pouring herself something that smelled suspiciously strong.

“It's just a party,” she replied.

As she took a sip, she leaned against the counter, her eyes scanning the room again. “There he is,” she said, nudging you with her elbow.

“Who?”

“You know who.”

Your gaze followed hers, landing on a familiar figure sprawled out on the couch in the corner of the living room. Ryomen Sukuna.

He was sitting on the couch like he owned the place, his long legs stretched out, one arm casually draped over the back of the sofa. He was wearing a white shirt, the fabric clinging just enough to hint at the toned muscles underneath. His eyes scanned the room with practiced boredom, like none of it was worth his time.

A girl was sitting on his lap, twirling her hair around her finger and giggling as if he’d just told her the funniest joke in the world. She leaned closer, whispering something in his ear, but he didn’t seem to be paying attention. Instead, his gaze drifted and then locked onto yours.

He grinned, a slow, cocky smirk that made something in your chest tighten not with attraction, but with irritation. It was the kind of grin that said he knew exactly the effect he had on people and loved to watch them crumble under it. He tilted his head slightly, as if to say, Caught you staring

As you looked away, you could feel the weight of his gaze on you. But you didn’t turn back. You weren’t interested.

“Great,” you muttered, taking a long sip from your water bottle. “Now I have to burn this memory from my brain.”

Shoko laughed, clearly enjoying your discomfort. “Oh, come on. You’ve got to admit, he’s hot.”

“He’s insufferable.”

“Hot and insufferable. The best combination.”

“I’ll leave right now.” you turned heel, but Shoko grabbed your arm, stopping you from your track.

“Relax, I’m just teasing you.”

Your jaw tightened, but you stayed put, watching as Sukuna leaned back even further, his eyes still fixed on you. The girl on his lap pouted, clearly annoyed at his lack of attention, but he didn’t seem to care.

“I hate him,” you muttered under your breath. The words came out bitter, but they were true. “Did I mention that before?”

“Yeah, like hundreds of times,” She replied, laughing “You really hate him, huh?”

“I just don’t get how people fall for his act,” you said.

Shoko shrugged. “Like I said, he’s hot. People like hot.”

“Hot doesn’t excuse being an asshole,” you murmured, crossing your arms. “What’s his deal, anyway? Does he just sit there all night waiting for people to grovel at his feet?”

“Pretty much,” Shoko said with a shrug. “But he’s good at it. Watch.”

As if on cue, another girl approached him, drink in hand. She leaned down, her lips close to his ear as she said something you couldn’t hear. Sukuna smirked, his attention finally shifting away from you, and you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

“See? he’s harmless,” Shoko said.

“Harmless,” you repeated, your voice with sarcasm. “Sure.”

“You know, you’re the only one who doesn’t fall for his charm.”

“Good,” you said firmly, crossing your arms. “I’m not about to start. I don’t need someone like him in my life.”

“You gonna keep her there all night?” Suguru asked, nodding towards the girl on Sukuna’s lap.

Sukuna smirked tilting his head back. “why not? She's comfortable here.” the girl giggled again, clearly tipsy, but Sukuna's attention has already wandered. His eyes scanned the room lazily, taking in the usual suspect, drunk athletes, and the occasional out-of-place loner. Until it landed on you.

You stood in the kitchen, keeping your distance from the chaos, leaning against the counter with your arms crossed. Your eyes roamed over the room, observing, until they met his. He caught you looking, and a smirk tugged at his lips. When you quickly looked away, he let out a low chuckle.

His friends noticed this.

“You’ve been staring at her for the last ten minutes, what’s the deal?” Geto voice cut thought Sukuna’s thoughts, and he glanced over at his friend.

“I’m not staring,” Sukuna retorted smoothly, his tone laced with nonchalance as he effortlessly lifted the girl off his lap. She let out an irritated groan, before stalking off in a huff. “Just observing,”

“Oh, don’t give me that,” Geto teased, raising an eyebrow. “I’ve seen the way you're staring at her, that’s not the ‘I’m observing’ look you usually give what’s going on with you.”

Sukuna’s gaze flickered to you once more. “She’s different,” He had noticed you around campus—the way you never spared him a second glance when you passed by, completely unaffected by his presence. Once, he’d even tried to strike up a conversation, but you had brushed past him without so much as acknowledging him, as though he were invisible.

Gojo chuckled “Different? Dude, that girl is the only one who doesn’t drool over you.”

Sukuna’s lip curled into a sly grin. “So what?”

“So,” Suguru continues, crossing his arms, leaning against the couch. “you’ve never met a girl who doesn’t fall for your charm, right? You’ve been with everyone but her? she couldn’t care less.”

Gojo snorted. “And she’s probably the only one on campus. That’s gotta sting.”

Sukuna scoffed, leaning forward slightly. “Please. She is probably playing hard to get.”

Geto exchanged a glance with Gojo, and then a mischievous grunt flashed his eyes. “All alright, how about we make this interesting? We give you ten days.”

Sukuna raised an eyebrow, “Ten days?’

“Yeah,” he said with a sly smile “Ten days you make her fall in love with you.”

Sukana let out a short laugh, but the challenge already sounded fun to him. He never was the type to back down from a game. “You think I need ten days?”

Suguru shrugged, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. “It’d be easier if it were any other girl. But this one… she’s too—what’s the word? Stubborn. Definitely not into guys like you,” he said, “She won’t be an easy win. That’s what makes it interesting, though.”

Satoru chimes in “Yeah, man. You can’t just use your looks and charm this time. You’re gonna have to actually work for it.”

Sukana's eyes flicked back to you for a split second. You were standing there unaware of the conversation that was happening a few feet away from you. “Ten days huh?” he murmured.

“Ten days” Gojo repeated. “And if you fail you lose. It's as simple as that.”

His expression turned darker, the idea of him not winning seemed unthinkable. He wasn’t just going to prove them wrong he was going to show them that no one could resist him.

Gojo leaned back, a grin tugging at his lips. “Oh, and one more thing,” he added, glancing at Sukuna. “You can't be seen with other girls. It’s gotta look real, after all.”

Sukuna’s expression shifted slightly, an eyebrow raised in silent challenge. “You think I need rules to make this work?” he asked.

Geto gave a small nod. “It’s just to make sure no one gets suspicious. You’ll need to actually put in the effort.”

Sukuna smirked, unfazed. “Fine. I’ll play by your rules, but don’t expect me to go easy on her.”

Ten days to make you fall for him. The girl who wouldn’t give him the time of the day. The girl who didn’t care about his reputation. The girl who has no idea what was coming for her.

Unknowingly, you had already been pulled into his game.

“You think his shirt could be any tighter,” Shoko muttered, nodding towards a guy who was flexing across the room.

You snorted. “Pretty sure it's painted on.” leaning against the kitchen counter. Shoko grinned at your words, sipping from her cup.

The kitchen was quieter than the rest of the party, you leaned against the counter sipping on your water. Shoko perched on the edge of the sink, swinging her legs as she talked. You were nodding and listening to the story she was telling you. You hear a group of people walking in the kitchen, their laughter loud and careless. You don’t even need to turn around to know who it is. The weight of his presence pressed into the room like a rebound heartbeat. Ryomen Sukuna.

His graze swept the kitchen, it lingered on you for a moment too long, and a smirk appeared on his face.

“Shoko,” one of his friends called out, his tone playful, but almost teasing. “Come help us with something. It’ll be fun, I promise.”

Shoko raised an eyebrow, glancing between you and them. “Fun, huh? i doubt it.”

“It’s better than being stuck in here,” another white-haired friend chimed in.

She rolled her eyes but slid off the counter anyway, giving you a quick pat on the shoulder. “Don’t get too comfortable,” she said with a wink before following them out of the kitchen. And then, it was just you and him.

Great.

Sukuna didn't say anything, but you could feel the weight of his gaze, as he leaned against the counter across from you.

“Guess it’s just us now,” he said finally his voice low and smooth.

You didn't look up, keeping your focus on your drink “Lucky me,” you replied, your tone dry.

He chuckled softly, the sound rich and deep. “You don’t sound too thrilled.”

When you finally glanced up, he was much closer than you’d expected. His tall frame leaned casually against the counter opposite you. Up close, the details of his features were almost overwhelming—the sharp line of his jaw, the subtle curve of his lips that formed an infuriatingly smug smirk, and the mess of his hair falling carelessly over his forehead. You couldn’t deny it, no matter how much you wanted to. He was hot—like, really hot.

“You’re not exactly the first guy to try this,” you said coolly, taking another sip from your drink, your gaze steady as you met his.

Sukuna tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing in amusement. “Try what?” he asked.

“Whatever you’re doing right now,” you replied, “the whole brooding, mysterious thing. It’s not as original as you think.”

He laughed at that, his head tilting back just enough to expose the line of his throat. It wasn’t often that people spoke to him like this, you realized. Most would have thrown themselves at him.

“You’re sharp,” he said, pushing off the counter and taking a step closer. The scent of him hits you. “I like that,” he added, his voice low, a hint of approval in his tone as his gaze lingered on you.

You arched an eyebrow, unimpressed by him. “And I don’t care.”

He paused not being he was offended, but because he wasn’t used to being dismissed, even by someone who didn't so much flinch under his gaze.

He took another step forward, closing the distance between you. “Most people would kill to be in your position right now,” his tone quieter now, almost intimate, as his eyes locked onto yours.

You smirked, setting your drink on the counter behind you. “Then maybe you should go find ‘most people,’” you replied coolly, not breaking eye contact.”

The silence hung in the air. Sukuna’s eyes lingered on you for a moment, then slowly, his gaze dipped to your lips. The smirk on his face faltered just slightly as if he was plotting something in his mind, before it returned—sharper, more amused.

“You’re different,” he murmured finally, his voice low, the words lingering in the air as his gaze stayed fixed on your lips, the tension between you growing with each passing second.

“Should I take that as a compliment?” you asked.

“Take it however you want,” he said, his voice softer now, almost a whisper, his gaze still lingering on your lips as if he was waiting for your next move.

His gaze made it hard to look away. But you forced yourself to break the connection, turning your focus elsewhere. You weren’t sure what Sukuna was trying to do—charm you, challenge you, or maybe a little of both.

“I’m not interested in you, if that’s what you’re wondering,” you said, your tone firm, making sure he knew you weren’t fazed by his presence.

He tilted his head, his smirk fading for a moment. He just looked at you, his dark eyes searching yours as if he were trying to read you.

“We’ll see about that,” he said, his voice low and confident, before turning and walking out.

You let out a slow breath, the heat of his presence lingering in the air. Sukuna wasn’t used to being ignored, and for him, that only made you more of a challenge.

But you weren’t here to play his game.

At least, that’s what you thought.

taglist: @clp-84 @ssetsuka @lymsfm @monic19 @bol0-de-morang0 @strxberryicecream @r0ckst4rjk @gojocumslut @elliebelliegi @kazuuhali @luna-v-roiya @sussiesushi @nakiich @mourart7 @neuvilletteswife4ever @rusted-dolly @blueyesuguru @lillycore @yourhornysister @bnbaochauuu

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seungcheorry · 1 year ago

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thinking about vernon's partner being so adored by some of his members it's actually ridiculous.

like, everyone's at a party and dino comes straight to you and says "let's do a drinking match, i wanna see who can drink faster, me or you". vernon just side eyes the maknae, and you're quick to say "it's okay, i got this, babe".

you win the first round, drinking a full glass of beer milliseconds faster than dino. seungkwan laughs at the maknae, saying he finally found his match. as the two are bickering, some other members come to watch what's all the fuzz about.

"how many more can you take?"

"about three glasses, otherwise i'll get drunk", you tell dino, who looks at vernon for approval.

"they say it's three glasses, then it's three glasses", he shrugs.

the second round is about to start when wonwoo says "wait, wait, wait~ let me record this"; seungkwan is the mc of everything, presenting both of you to the camera and placing bets on who's gonna win.

vernon holds back his smile as he sees all of you laughing, and secretly bets 10 bucks on you.

dino gets the second round though, lucky that the beer went down wrongly and a bit of it came out through your nose.

"aigoo, are you okay?", vernon asks, reaching for you when you start coughing.

third round is a show apart. dino gets four glasses of beer - two for you, two for him. "okay, show me what you got".

he claims soonyoung as his assistant, making his hyung hold his second glass; vernon obviously offers himself as your assistant too.

"you got this, babe", he encourages you. behind him there's mingyu, praying that you don't - he had bet 20 bucks on dino.

"if dino lose, seungcheol will pay for everyone's meal", jeonghan announces while the leader tries to slap him.

"you gotta win this"; "please, i want a free meal"; "this is stupid" - are things you hear, the last one being said by seungcheol.

when the third round starts, you can literally see vernon by the corner of your eye, ready to catch you in case you need it. you gulp down the second glass like a champ, beating dino by a whole second.

it's hilarious how seungkwan pushes vernon out of the way to grab you by the arms and jump around, celebrating your victory. mingyu and junhui go to dino, holding the maknae by his face while saying "you did good, we're proud of you" - although they can't help but laugh when minghao says "you owe me 5 bucks, you loser" to the youngest.

jihoon looks at vernon laughing with you, quickly pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips, before he turns to seungcheol. "can i order anything off the menu?".

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quarterlifekitty · 7 months ago

Text

Read buttermilk today and now @ceilidho got me on that babysitter grindset… but what if I freaked it up a little.

cw: age gap (reader is around 21 and Soap is like 29ish), something sorta flirting with/on the edge of fauxcest due to a sibling-like bond, so I’m gonna tag it as such just in case.

Before Johnny enlisted, he’d only ever had one paying job.

Taking care of you.

About eight years your senior, your mom decided to go back to working when you were around 4 and he was on the cusp of 13. And for 5 years (an eternity to a kid like you) he was your best friend in the world. Would get out of school, walk to the elementary school to get you, bring you home, and hang out until whenever your parents got off of work.

And the boy was devoted. Didn’t mind that he had to put off hanging with his friends till the weekend. Didn’t mind making your snacks or watching silly kids movies. Didn’t mind when you asked him to play pretend veterinarian with you, and he had to lay down and act like a really sick horse. And you loved him.

The first time your parents took you on a vacation and you realized he wouldn’t be there? You were so mad. As mad as a 4 year old can be.

You’re embarrassed when you cry at the news that he’s enlisting— at age 10 you’re not supposed to cry anymore, you’re a big girl. He hugs you so tight, early in the morning before he has to go.

His folks move during his first tour. There isn’t an anchor to bring him back to you for a very long time. Over a decade, as it turns out.

He’s getting ready to go on leave when he gets a call— his mum buzzing with some kind of gossip as usual.

“You’ll never guess who I saw down at Sainsbury’s—“

Your university happens to be in the town his family moved to. He has his own place now of course, but he likes to keep close to them.

His first night back and his mum is beside herself— trying to get the place nice, because you’re joining them for dinner. Johnny never even considers that when you come to the door, you’re not the little girl he left tearing up on her parents porch.

He has to remember to close his mouth at the sight of you. His dad offers you a beer for fuck’s sake. He’s amazed at how much has changed— but also, how much is the same. The curve of your nose, and bubble of your laughter, the way your eyes widen with interest.

You happen to be on break right now. So of course, he ends up unwittingly spending all of his leave with you. You were always a funny kid— you’re a lot funnier now that you can swear. And you were always cute but now you’re so… pretty.

And he is not a fucking fan of the kind of attention it gets you. The way guys look at you when you’re sitting alone, waiting for him at a coffee shop. How your phone goes off at least once every 20 minutes, and it’s almost always ‘this guy from your class’. He tells himself that it’s just because he was responsible for you for so long— that he’s just having trouble shaking that off. He just remembers when you were so innocent— he doesn’t wanna see you get chewed up and spit out by college boys.

And he keeps finding himself falling into old patterns. Making you stay still so he can wipe your mouth after having a bit of a messy danish. Holding your hand tight when you’re in a busy place, crossing any streets. Having you tell him what you want so he can order things for you. Picking you up so he can hear you giggle and tell him to put you down.

He tells himself that when he touches himself later that it’s just because being away for work has left him touch starved and sensitive. It’s only natural to get turned on by a pretty girl who leans into him… especially when you get along so famously.

(Even though he remembers playing I spy while he held your hand and walked you home from school, your little backpack slung over his shoulder, even though he had his own to carry. )

Before he knows it, it’s his last night at home, ending it off with another of his mum’s dinners. At the table you casually mention the graduate schools you’re thinking of going to— some close by, some not. He almost chokes when you mention that there’s a really nice school in Canada you were considering.

That’s when he knows he’s fucked. Because he doesn’t think of that as you getting on with your life. Of a girl getting her education. He thinks of that as losing you, and after the bliss of the past couple of weeks he’s had with you, he’s not sure he’ll take being separated from you nearly as long as he did the last time. Not to mention all of the guys at your school trying to get their hands on you.

So he’s gonna have to find a way to get you too invested to travel far. And figure out how to protect you from those assholes when he’s not around.

Making you a part of his family and putting his ring on your finger should be enough, right?

#writing #cod fanfic #john soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish #soap x reader #cw age gap #cw fauxcest

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angrythingstarlight · 2 years ago

Note

I doubt this is something all the bikers would do for some kids

But image they did this for Halloween 🥹

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZPR7HFSNp/

You know exactly how to convince your grumpy biker to do what you want. Are you ready to pay his price though?

Pairing: Biker!Ari x Reader

CW: Touch starved Ari, size kink, innocence kink, grumpy/sunshine, protective Ari, choking kink.

AN: Written on my phone, Unbetad.

☆Biker Masterlist☆Ari Masterlist☆

You glance up at Ari, observing his sullen expression as he watches your screen. The short video loops back to the beginning and his bored gaze coasts over your phone and locks on your hopeful eyes. "No."

You're not shocked, although your mouth falls into a pout anyway. You knew this was going to be an uphill battle getting him to agree to work your booth at the autumn festival so you have an arsenal prepared. Since the ridiculously adorable video wasn't enough to sway him, you'll try a different tactic.

"Ari, it's for the animal shelter. We'd raise so much money if you'd help me out."

The legs of his chair scrape across his office floor as he moves back to his desk. He opens his laptop with a pointed sigh. "I think it's enough that I donate to that place every month."

"And all you ha—"Spluttering to a stop, your brows furrow in surprise. "You do? Since when?"

Since the day he found out you volunteered there. He's never going to tell you that though, you already know too much about him.

Without looking away from his spreadsheet, he gently closes your mouth with his knuckle. "Yes I do. So find someone else to help."

"But I don't want anyone else," you softly admit. "I want you."

His eyes close and the back of his head hits the top of his chair with a dull thud. You trail your nails down the exposed column of his throat, gently pressing over his Adam's apple, your fingers rising when he roughly swallows. "Please. I'll owe you. You don't have to wear a costume but if you show up you can make the other guys wear them."

And keep them in line. You might be able to get the other guys to show up in exchange for free food and beers but keeping a rowdy group of bikers under control for a few hours is an entirely different story. Something Ari can do without even trying.

He pinches the bridge of his nose. "Go back to work, Sunshine," he orders, no real heat in his voice.

You almost have him.

Swinging your leg over his muscular thigh, you straddle his lap. Every part of him goes still. You wiggle, adjusting your weight on him. Almost every part of him. You feel him thicken under you and you wiggle again, more of a slow grind this time, eliciting a low groan from his parted lips. "You do this for me and I'll do anything you want."

His eyes snap open and his hand is around your throat before you can process what's happening. His hold is loose but his palm feels good on your skin. You grin. He glares. "I'm getting set up around 10 but you don't have to be there until 11."

Another sigh. "Who's helping you set up?"

That's not what you were expecting to him say. "Oh um. No one," you start, blinking when he appears genuinely irritated for the first time since you strolled into his office. "It's fine, I'm used to doing this stuff by myself and it's more than enough if you guys show up and—"

"Be quiet," he demands, reaching past you with his free hand. Taking his phone off the desk, you both watch him dial Steve. This feels right—you still on his lap, his ring-adorned hand still around your throat.

"Yeah?"

Ari inhales deeply, his eyes briefly lifting to the ceiling. "We're volunteering at the festival this weekend. Tell the guys to show up and do whatever Sunshine here says. If anyone tries to skip out, let them know they'll have to deal with me personally," he says with a clenched jaw, forcing the words out.

There's a beat of silence and you whisper thank you. Steve clears his throat, tamping down a laugh, he has the vague feeling it would push his caustic brother over the edge. "Alright, I'll let 'em know. What time do we need to get there."

"10." Ari's eyes drift down your face, lingering on your smile. "Actually tell the prospects to get there early and set up her booth. Get her whatever she needs."

Oh.

You're not used to people being there for you like this. If you hadn't already offered to do anything for him, you'd definitely be doing it now.

"Anything else?"

"Nah we're good." Ari hangs up, his phone hits his desk with a loud clatter.

"Thank you again. You have no idea how much this means to me."

Ari makes a sardonic sound in his throat. You have no idea what you're about to unleash.

"Anything huh," he murmurs, tilting your head back, and squeezing your throat gently. Noting the way you instinctively grind down on him, he applies more pressure. "You really need to work on your negotiation skills Sunshine. You didn't even ask what I'd want from you in exchange for helping out."

His touch is sure, commanding. You might be on top of him but he's the one in control.

"What do you want?" You grasp his wrist, nearly forgetting you're at work.

Ari slides his tongue across his bottom lip, he's been dreaming about all about all the ways he's going to ruin you. Something dark and passionate flares in his blue eyes and it renders you breathless. "Too late for that Sunshine. You'll have to wait and see. I'll decide when you ready for me."

His hands drop to your ass, easily lifting you as he stands. Ari places you on his desk, his hands land on your thighs, slowly easing them apart as he steps between them until his massive erection is pushing against you.

It's going to be a tight fit. He'll make it work. Ari laughs softly when you realize just how large he is. If you're not flexible already, Sunshine you will be once he's done with you.

"You should start stretching."

#ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x you #ari levinson x black!reader #biker!ari levinson #ari levinson one shot #chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans x black reader #chris evans fanfiction #ari levinson fanfiction

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sometimesanalice · 8 months ago

Text

Are You Gonna Be My Girl?

Summary: It’s been a couple of months since the two of you have started hooking up, and it’s no secret that Rooster is hung up on you. He takes the gamble and invites you to the yearly Halloween bash at the Hard Deck. The only problem is he can’t figure out what the hell you’re supposed to be.

Pairing: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 6.2K

Warnings: allusions to smut and Rooster being a simp (but what else is new 😂) (mdni)

The Black Keys’ “Howlin’ for You” playing loudly over the static-y speakers of the Hard Deck masking the sound of Rooster’s fingers as he impatiently drums them on top of the worn table, uncaring of the fact he’s out of tempo with the song.

Penny’s yearly Halloween Spooktacular has always been a fan favorite with those stationed at North Island. A name that Amelia had thrown shade at no less than five times as she worked on designing the event flier the afternoon that the Daggers had been bribed with free beers for coming in on their free time to help decorate.

There wasn’t an inch of the bar that was left untouched, and it wasn’t just that Bob had gotten carried away with the downy spider webbing. There were orange and purple string lights threaded around the circular mug racks, floating candles over the pool table, dangling bats and streamers, and an enthusiastic but poorly executed attempt at a balloon arch over the entry door.

The wispy fog covered punchbowl with a suspicious dark purple beverage bubbled away on the bartop, tendrils cascaded over the side only adding to the atmosphere. The stuff was so potent that Bradley was pretty sure it would put the jungle juice he’d thrown back in college to shame.

Rooster had been tasked with curating the playlist for tonight’s party, and if he’d been paying even a little bit of attention, he’d have known his choices were being well received by the boisterous crowd. But his attention is half split trying to listen to Hangman’s story about the Halloween prank gone wrong that left him with twelve stitches and half listening for-

Ding

He’s quick on the draw to pull out his phone from the chest pocket to check if it was his that went off.

When he’d arrived Nat, decked out in a sequined pink gown with a gun he wasn’t sure was fake or not strapped to her thigh for her Miss Congeniality costume, had given him a look of disdain and said what he was wearing was low effort even for him.

Rooster tucks his phone away with a disappointed sigh when there are zero new notifications on his lock screen.

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen you so whipped over a girl before, Bradshaw,” Hangman drawls, leaning into the gunslinging cowboy thing he has going on for the evening. His shirt is unbuttoned more than is strictly necessary, and is complete with a belt buckle that is larger than the state of Texas and too heavy looking to have been bought off Amazon.

Ding

Bradley fishes out his phone again from the pocket he’d put it back in only moments earlier.

You, 10:32pm: “u up?”

He grins.

“And we’ve lost him,” someone snarks, but he’s too busy punching in the password to unlock his phone to care.

Bradley Bradshaw, 10:32pm: are you ever going to let that go?

You, 10:32pm: Mmm, no. You were so bad at being a fuckboy, it was funny.

You, 10:33pm: But in a very hot way, might I add. And clearly, it worked in your favor since I let you come over and hit it a second time.

Rooster snorts in amusement.

It was the first and last time he’d taken Fanboy’s advice and you teased him about it every opportunity you got. He had been a little rusty with the ins and outs of no-strings-attached sex with someone who wasn’t in the Navy. But he’d more than made up for it that same night by eating you out until your legs were shaking and you were weakly pushing his head away as he’d coaxed you into coming just one more time against his tongue.

Bradley Bradshaw, 10:33pm: don’t remember hearing you laughing last night when your pussy was dripping all over my cock

He takes a sip of beer as he waits for your response.

You, 10:33pm: Look! You’re already so much better at sexting than you were when we met!

You, 10:34pm: “u up?” is still on the table, by the way. Not to brag, but I even have a pumpkin shaped pizza.

You, 10:34pm: If you want to come over.

If you want to come over. He shakes his head reading the text again.

As if he’d ever pass up on getting to spend time with you.

As if Rooster hadn’t been hooked on you since the moment he’d met you.

𝗧𝗪𝗢 𝗠𝗢𝗡𝗧𝗛𝗦 𝗔𝗚𝗢

As a general rule, Bradley hated grocery shopping.

He’s never had the patience for it, with the way that everyone is in their own world. He gets tired of always having to weave around people and the way that there always seems to be carelessly parked carts or people catching up standing between him and the items on his list.

Which is why when he noticed the parking lot was mostly empty on his way home, he decided to stop and spare himself the headache of doing it over the weekend when everyone else was out and just get it done.

He’d expected to be in and out in record time until the uniform lines of colorful cartons of ice cream caught his attention as he was tossing in a few bags of frozen chicken into his cart. Normally it was always so crowded that he never felt like he could take his time looking without being in someone’s way, that he’d skip it entirely and later try to convince himself that his Greek yogurt was just as good. But tonight since no one was around, he was taking his time.

Under the glare of the fluorescents, he stands there with the hum of the freezers competing with the too-twangy-for-his-taste country song playing over the speakers and debating his options when he feels an arm thread around his own, surprising him out of the pros and cons list he was making in his head between the healthier low-calorie choice versus the one he actually wanted.

“Hi, hello there.” Bradley glances over to see the prettiest pair of eyes looking up at him expectantly. “Do you mind playing along for a few minutes, there’s some creep who keeps trying to bother me.”

He looks over the top of your head to see some guy lingering at the end of the aisle. “The guy who looks like off-brand John Mayer?”

You scrunch your nose up. “That’d be the one.”

“How good are you at picking out ice cream flavors?” he asks, standing up straighter and pulling his shoulders back.

You blink at him in confusion before your lips tick up in a relieved smile. “Very good, as a matter of fact.”

“Great, you came to my rescue just in time.” Bradley guides you closer until you’re in front of him, lightly resting a hand on your hip the way he would if you were his girlfriend. “Is this ok?” he asks under his breath, only loud enough for you to hear.

When you nod, he feels the knot in his chest loosen. Because while he wants this to be convincing to the guy still loitering at the edge of the aisle, he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable.

“First things first, we need to establish a baseline.” You point at the carton covered in cartoony looking chocolate chip cookies. “What’s your opinion on cookie dough?”

“Overrated,” he answers, not missing a beat. “I’d rather just eat the stuff out of a tube instead.”

You lean back into him a bit more. “Ooh, tough crowd,” you tease, your head finding his shoulder. “Ok then, mister tempting-fate-with-salmonella, what’s your stance on the great vanilla bean vs French vanilla debate?”

Bradley takes a quick look around to make sure they’re not blocking any other late night grocery shoppers. He pretends to ponder for a moment before responding, “I like the one with flecks.”

“A dignified choice.” You say it so solemnly that he can’t help but chuckle.

The easy back and forth banter goes on for a few more minutes. Sometimes you rib him about his answers and other times agree. It shouldn’t be so fun standing there in front of the cooler filled with tubs of ice cream, but it is. It was the last thing he could have expected when he’d decided to stop in at the last minute on his way home after hitting up the Hard Deck.

When he tells you the two choices he had been contemplating before you’d come up to him, you hum contemplatively and tap a finger against your cheek, “Well this changes everything if you’re dairy free.”

“Nah, just watching my figure. The containers are smaller and I have a sweet tooth.”

“Respectfully, I don’t think that’s something you need to worry about. You fill out those khakis just fine, if you don’t mind me saying.”

“I don’t mind at all.” Rooster wonders if you can hear his self-satisfied grin. “Not every day I get a pretty girl telling me she was checking out my ass.”

You let out a small, amused scoff and all he feels is pleased with himself.

“I was not checking out your- oh.” The surprise in your voice has him leaning back enough to get a look at your face. “Wait, is he gone?” You peer around his shoulder, but don’t make a move to pull away from the gentle hold he has on you.

“He left around the time you were giving a very impassioned speech about how overlooked spumoni is. I probably should have mentioned it sooner, but you were making a pretty compelling case and I didn’t want to interrupt,” he says, trying to play it off casually and hoping that he didn’t just become the creep in this story when you tell it to your friends later.

“Oh, ok. That’s, um, that’s good.” You sound almost… disappointed? You take a step towards the case and he drops his arm back down to his side, already missing the feel of you under it. “Thank you so much for committing to the bit. Seriously, I truly appreciate it,” you say over your shoulder, opening the glass door.

He rubs the back of his neck, watching as you grab a carton out of the freezer, not sure whether to move on with the rest of his shopping or not. But when you turn back towards him, he’s hit with the full force of your smile, feeling it all the way to his toes.

“Rocky Road,” you say, setting the carton into his cart. “It has peanuts in it, which is a nutrient-dense food and an excellent plant-based source of protein. There’s collagen from the gelatin in the marshmallows. And chocolate has antioxidants in it and is known to trigger the holy trinity of happy brain chemicals. It’s basically a superfood.”

Rooster grins. “I don’t think it works like that.”

“No, unfortunately, it really doesn’t,” you agree, playfully leaning a hip against his cart. “But it’s more fun this way, don’t you think?”

He’s so fucking charmed by you and he doesn’t even know your name yet.

While he’s glad he was there at the right time and got to play a small part in deterring that guy from continuing to hassle you, he kind of wishes the two of you could have met under different circumstances, because he’d jump at the chance of being able to score a date with you. He sighs and shakes the thought out of his head.

“Would you like me to walk you to your car?” Rooster offers, ready to abandon his groceries for a few extra minutes with you.

“Oh wow.” That mischievous gleam that had been in your eyes changes to something softer. You tilt your head, taking him in with a thoughtful expression on your face. “You’re one of those rare genuinely a gentleman types, aren’t you? Like the kind who always walks closest to the curb and mows their elderly neighbor’s yard without being asked.” Bradley just lifts a shoulder. He’s used to looking out for other people, it’s just something he’s always done. “And they say chivalry is dead,” you muse, contemplatively, “I should let you know though, knock-off John Mayer is my ex.”

He feels his hackles rise up immediately and scans the area again to double check the guy isn’t still hanging around. “Is he harassing you?”

“Oh no, it was only an unfortunate fluke, I promise,” you say, patting his hand that’s gripping the handle of the shopping cart reassuringly. “He’s just a jackass who thought he could cheat on me and that I’d still take him back.” Bradley grunts at that, even more irritated than he was before. “But he was still trying to test the waters, even after I told him I was seeing someone,” you continue, with a roll of your eyes, “Which was technically true- even if I am in fact single right now- because that’s when I saw you over here gazing very intensely into the freezer case like you’d been personally victimized by Ben and Jerry.”

“You’re out of his league anyways,” he rasps.

There’s no way in hell Bradley would fumble a girl like you.

You grin widely, clearly amused at his annoyance on your behalf. “He was a tool with an overinflated ego and a flat ass.” Rooster barks out a surprised laugh. “And you’re so much hotter than him, so I really lucked out there with you as my knight in ironed khakis,” you say unabashedly, reaching out to straighten out his already perfectly straight name tag. “You really went above and beyond for your country there helping me win the break up.”

“I don’t think you needed me for that part. It’s pretty clear you came out on top.” His eyes dart down to your hand on the cart, like you forgot it was still resting on top of his. “But I was more than happy to help all the same.” He takes a half step closer into your space, deciding just to go for it. “I’m thinking we should keep up the ruse though, you know, just in case he is lurking by the pasta or something.”

You quirk a knowing eyebrow at him. “Is that so?”

“I could also use your professional opinion on cereal. That is if you still have some more shopping to do,” he suggests, nodding to your mostly empty handbasket.

There’s no question that he’s caught your interest, not with the way you’re looking at him. That smile you’re wearing tells a story of its own. “What a coincidence, that just happens to be my forte.”

“I had a feeling you might be the right girl for the job.” Bradley takes your basket from you and sets it in his cart and gestures for you to lead the way.

He learns your name around the same time he does about your hottake on Frosted Cheerios.

And later that night, his groceries are packed away in your fridge as the container of Rocky Road the two of you were sharing melts on your coffee table- the condensation puddling on the marble surface reflecting the credits rolling across the TV screen- as you ride him on your couch. Your hands tightly fisted in his hair and your breathy whines in his ear urging him to fuck you harder and faster until you come with his name in your mouth.

And in the morning, he gets your number over a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

The two of you have been fooling around for a couple of months now.

On the nights Rooster wasn’t fucking you, he was getting himself off to the thought of you and wishing you were in bed with him. You’ve never been to his place, so he doesn’t even have the bonus of that bright citrus scent of you lingering on his sheets on the nights he spends alone.

The sex was great. Mind-blowing. You were loud and enthusiastic and gave just as good as you got. Bradley found your confidence sexy as hell. You were the type of girl who knew exactly what she wanted and he was always up for the challenge of finding new ways to make your back arch and toes curl.

But he was just as much of a fan of the parts that came before and after getting you spasming around his cock.

He liked the way your mind worked. You were always telling him about something interesting you’d read, because you were naturally curious about the world around you. You asked him thoughtful questions about his job and his life in the Navy, but not in the way he was used to from the tag chasers that frequented the Hard Deck. There was no mistaking you were asking because you wanted to know more about him, and not fixated on the shiny sheen of his golden aviator wings.

Rooster has never laughed as much as he has with you. In those moments between catching your sighs with his mouth and waiting for the knock on the door for whatever late-night craving was being delivered, you’d have him laughing and grinning until his cheeks ached.

The closest he’s ever gotten to taking you on a proper date was that one late night drive-thru run when everything on delivery apps were closed. You’d looked like his favorite daydream sitting there under the glow of the streetlamp in the nearly empty parking lot in a shirt of his that he must have accidently left behind after a hook up.

That night was the most real it’s ever felt. And he wanted more nights just like that.

He liked the way you always seemed to have a documentary to recommend for any given topic, he has a list on his phone and has been working his way through them. He liked the way the glasses you wore sometimes seemed slightly too big for your face because it was cute the way you’d constantly push them back up your nose. He liked that you texted in full sentences with complete and proper punctuation.

Bradley could already imagine how tonight would most likely go.

He’d dip out of the party early and come to your place. Your tongue in his mouth and your greedy little hand tugging to get his belt undone before he’d even made it through the door. The two of you going at it until someone has to tap out- which he is smug in the fact that more often than not it’s usually you- now that he knows all the best ways to pull orgasm after orgasm out of you. Sometimes the two of you order in, and other nights you’ll pass a bowl of ice cream or cereal back and forth over the island in your kitchen where he gets to hear you laugh and tease him and tell him about your day. Then do it all over again and once you’re thoroughly spent, he’ll hold you as you fall asleep. And then in the morning he’ll press a kiss to your cheek and take one more look back at you before leaving through the same door he’d shown up at only hours before.

And that was fine for now, but he wanted more of you. He didn’t want to be just a casual hook up, he wanted to date you.

He wanted to be soft launched and hard launched, or whatever it was that Mickey was talking about that night he’d taken his misguided advice and sent the much teased “u up?” text. He wanted to block people in the chip aisle of the grocery store as you talked him into getting some crazy flavor, turning his least favorite chore into the highlight of his week. He wanted knockoff John Mayer to see he got the girl and knew how to treat her right.

He wanted you to be his girl.

“Aren’t you too old to be in a situationship, Bradshaw?” Jake asks, interrupting his thoughts.

“Fuck off,” Rooster grumbles, his eyebrows furrowed and his thumbs still hovering over the screen. A couple minutes have ticked by since your last text as he sits there stewing. He knocks back the remainder of his beer, it’s mostly foam, “I think I’m gonna head out.”

“No, you’re not. Bob hasn’t even performed the dance routine to “Thriller” yet,” Nat says, pinning him to his stool with a look, “Come on, Bradley, just invite her here.” She reaches overs and squeezes his shoulder. “You’ve been seeing her for a couple months now. You’re clearly into her, and you wouldn’t disappear on us as much as you do if she wasn’t into you too. This is a low stakes environment with everything going on and people off having fun doing their own thing. And the two of you can still go and do whatever you’re going to do after.”

“I don’t know, Phoenix, she might dump him when she sees what he’s wearing at a Navy bar on Halloween,” Hangman drawls, unhelpfully, grinning around that damn toothpick.

“Shut it, Bagman,” they both say simultaneously.

“Just throw it out there and see what she says.” Nat slides out of her seat, the beads on her dress scraping against the edge of the stool. “Now, we’re going to let you panic in peace for a few minutes while we get another round.”

“We’re?” Jake asks slowly, deliberately drawing out the word.

“Yep,” she confirms, the look on her face leaving no room for arguments as she tugs him off his seat. “And you’re paying, let’s go.”

Bradley scrubs a hand over his face, but not before he sees Nat punching Seresin in the arm on their way to the bar.

He doesn’t know why he’s so nervous all of a sudden, he’s never had an issue asking girls out before. Not that he’s ever had to work that hard for it, but still.

His knee bounces on the foot rest as he works out what to say. He types out the message and gives it a quick once over and hits send before he can overthink it.

Bradley Bradshaw, 10:42pm: I’d never say no to you or a pumpkin shaped pizza. But I’m actually at a Halloween party right now at the bar near base with some friends. And I’m thinking you should stop by.

Bradley Bradshaw, 10:42pm: I’m sorry it’s a last minute invite, but it’s always a good time and I think you would have fun. I’d like to see you, if “ur up” for it.

He tries not to dwell on the fact he just double texted you, a thing he didn’t know he should be worried about before Fanboy warned him about doing it.

It’s like he’s been hit by lightning the way he shoots up in his seat when he sees those little dots appear on the screen. Rooster holds his breath when they start and stop a few times, each time they disappear and come back again his heart pounds a little harder in his chest.

You, 10:44pm: I’m all in. What’s the address?

All the bubbles from the beer he’d had earlier swarm and rush to his head at once as he drops you a pin.

Nat pushes a shot of bourbon towards him across the table when they return. “Did it go well?”

He nods. “She’s on her way.”

“Good, because you know Halloween is my favorite holiday and your sulking was bringing the vibe down.”

He chuckles, there’s no way he’s beating those whipped allegations now.

She clinks her own shot with his and they throw them back together, the warmth of the expensive tasting liquor sticks behind his sternum.

The next thirty minutes are the longest of Rooster’s life. His head swings to the front door every time it opens, hoping that it’ll be you outlined by the purple, green, and orange string lights.

When he sees you come through the swiftly deflating balloon arch scanning the bar for him, he almost does a double take.

You’ve got on a black and white polka dot top, the cuffs are a flared ruffle that are tied with a bow at your wrist. Your skirt is plain black, but the way it hugs your hips leaves little to the imagination. He can’t even begin to guess what you’re dressed as because other than the night he met you, it’s the most clothes he’s ever seen you in.

Excluding those little silky matching sets you’re usually wearing when he comes over. But those don’t usually stay on too long before they end up on the floor of your living room. Or bedroom. Or kitchen.

He usually has to leave before you, so he’s usually headed out your front door while you’re still wrapped up in one of those fluffy white towels you have. He’s enjoying seeing you here in his favorite bar in that outfit and heading towards him like you’re just as happy to see him as he is to see you.

“Huh, if I'm not mistaken I’m pretty sure that’s what I sent you into work in this morning,” you say, grinning up at him and lightly tugging on the zipper of his flight suit. “Are you supposed to be a Walk of Shame?”

Bradley wraps an arm around you because he can’t help himself. “Please, we all know it’s called the Stride of Pride. It’s never a shame when I get laid.” He presses his fingertips into the swell of the top of your ass before leaning in close, his lips brushing against your ear, “Plus, I didn’t have time to go home and grab my costume because someone lured me back into bed this morning.”

He had to do 200 extra push-ups and stay behind to do paperwork as penance for being late the third time that week, but it was worth it. But by the time he was finished, the sun was already well on its way to setting. If he’d been a bit more forward thinking he would have brought the costume he had planned with him, instead of thinking he’d have time to swing by his house to change. Bradley didn’t think it was too much of a let down for you, not with the way you’re looking at him. It’s that same heated way that tells him you’re remembering your reaction to it the first time you’d ever seen him in it.

“Sounds like poor planning on your part,” you tease, your finger tracing the edge of his nametag. “I can’t believe you’re wearing your work clothes to a Halloween party, Rooster.”

“Ok, funny girl. Tell me then, what’re you supposed to be?” He takes a step back and gives you a blatant once over, taking his time admiring the shape of you from your head to your toes in some wicked looking heels and back up again.

Maybe if things went well tonight, you’d leave them on for him later when he gets you alone.

“That’s for me to know, and for you to spend the night guessing,” you smirk, the curve of your mouth promising mischief. “But I think you’ll like it once you figure it out.”

“Bradshaw, are you going to introduce us to your sexy librarian?” Hangman hollers, waving the two of you over back to the table with his hat. Bradley doesn’t hear as much as he sees the oof that comes out of the blonde when Phoenix sends an elbow into his side.

Rooster glances at you with a raise of his eyebrow and you shake your head. Not a sexy librarian then.

“I take it you know the rodeo clown?”

He tips his head back and laughs, already looking forward to telling Hangman. “I do. And Gracie Lou Freebush over there too.”

You wave over at Nat, gesturing to her costume and mouth obsessed, before turning back to him to ask, “Is that gun real?”

“I’m too afraid to ask,” he jokes, only half kidding. “C’mon let me get you a drink, I have an in with the bartender.”

“Are you trying to show off for me, Bradley?”

“Definitely.” He reaches out and toys with the end of the bow on your sleeve. “Is it working, Leslie Knope?”

You just send him that devastating smile of yours and thread your fingers through his. “I think I'm going to have so much fun with this tonight.”

“But full disclosure, you see Napoleon Bonaparte?” He points over to where Mav is behind the bar wearing tasseled shoulder pads pouring pints behind the bar next to a bedazzled Penny in a white neoclassical style dress. “That’s my godfather and his fiancée.”

You school the surprise on your face quickly. “Bradley Bradshaw, are you a nepobaby?”

“That’s a story for another time.” He chuckles, carefully winding his way around a Fred Flintstone and a Deviled Egg to the bar. “Be warned though, the Blue Slime Sipper is lethal. I had four last year and put on an a cappella performance of the Ghostbusters theme song.”

“Please tell me someone has a video of that,” you laugh.

“I called in every favor I had to get all evidence of that particular performance erased.”

At the bar, you order two Blue Slime Sippers looking the picture of innocence as you admire the giant spider affixed to the top of the bar by the till, even though he knows better.

One for him and one for you.

He briefly introduces you to Penny and Mav, trying to keep it casual. Thankfully, it’s busy enough that there’s not more time for small talk or jokes about the frosted tips he had when he was thirteen.

Their guess at a modern day I Love Lucy was also met with a no.

But he’s pretty sure Mav’s attempt to stealthily shoot him two thumbs up after you get your neon blue colored drinks fails based on the way your lips are pressed together in an attempt to smother the smile that he sees toying at the corners of your mouth.

Over the course of the night, it becomes a game that the rest of the team joins in on as he introduces them to the girl he’s been hung up on for weeks.

You help him kick Payback and Fanboy’s asses at the Eyeball Beer Pong that Penny had set up outside on the deck.

“Damn, Lawyer Barbie has an arm,” Fanboy says, the spring of the Slingy Dog costume sagging sadly between him and Payback, watching as you sink another doodled on ping-pong ball into a cup.

“I think we need a rematch,” Payback countered after their loss, “Flight Attendants have great hand-eye coordination, it’s an unfair advantage.”

Both guesses were met with a no.

When you side with Nat over Death Becomes Her as the best, but most underrated, Halloween movie, she throws her hands up in victory, “Thank you! Finally, someone with good taste… Olivia Pope?”

It’s another no, but he’s happy to see how much fun you’re having with his friends.

Between the riotous costume contest voting, and the one-man performance of “Thriller” that Bob puts on, and the pumpkin tic-tac-toe, Rooster has a lot of fun making his own guesses.

Except for the time he offers up Miss Bliss, he nearly chokes on his Cauldron Cooler when you ask him, “Is that a porn thing?”

Which in hindsight, he probably should have specified from the show Saved by the Bell, that he only knew because he’d been into Tiffani Amber Thiessen as a kid, but he doesn’t get to because you’re too busy delightedly laughing at his near spit-take.

He sticks close to your side, an arm slung over your shoulder or around your waist. There’s a moment when he gets worried he might be smothering you, but then you’d lean your head on his shoulder and he figured you were right where you wanted to be.

The two of you step outside when the Monster Mash smashburger contest starts up, the song following you to the sun-bleached wooden deck.

There are less people out here now, a few people are stationed behind the ping-pong table and others are seated on the picnic tables chatting and swapping stories. Most of his friends had stayed inside to cheer on Coyote’s attempt to hold onto his burger eating crown.

It’s the first time all night that he has you on your own, and while he appreciates how welcoming his friends are with wanting to make you feel included and slipping in more than a few jokes at his expense, he’s ready to have you to himself for a while.

But first.

“Are you ever going to tell me what you’re supposed to be?” He runs a finger along the ruffle down the front of your shirt. “I think I’ve lost count of how many failed attempts I’ve made now and It’s starting to take a toll on my ego.”

“How about this, you tell me what you were supposed to be and then I’ll tell you what my costume is,” you offer, playfully.

You’re still toying with him like a cat does a string and he doesn’t mind a single bit.

He steps in close, winding an arm around your low back pulling you in close. “James Bond,” he says, enjoying the way your eyes light up.

“Now that’s something I would love to see,” you murmur, running your hand along his arm. “Not that the flight suit isn’t working for me.” He grins smug because he knows exactly how much this flight suit works for you.

Rooster shakes his head amused. “I’ll put it on for you later if you want.” He grins smug because he knows exactly how much this flight suit works for you, but you haven’t seen him in a tux yet. “Now, I’ve been dying to know since the moment you walked in, what are you dressed as?”

You grin, wide and bright, like you’ve been waiting for this all night.

“Your future girlfriend, I thought it was pretty obvious.”

Bradley doesn’t waste a moment bringing both of his hands to your face and getting his lips on yours. A surprised noise escapes from the back of your throat before you’re wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him even closer.

Your full lips soften under his demanding ones, the sensual slide of your lips against his has him desperate for more. His tongue chases after the sweetness of your mouth. He can’t get enough of it.

He can’t get enough of you.

“So I take it, you like my costume then?” you ask against his lips.

“I’m about to go swipe that trophy from Cousin Itt because yours is the best one here by far.” You giggle when he pulls you back in to kiss you again- or tries to. “C’mon, sweetheart, I need you to cooperate here. I’m trying to kiss my girlfriend.”

But then his teeth click against yours because now you’ve got him smiling too.

You skim another soft kiss against his mouth and lean back. “You know, I did have a back-up costume, just in case things didn’t go well.” You put a finger up and twist a little in his arms to rummage in your purse. And when you turn back towards him you’ve got a bright red clown nose on your face.

“Are you kidding me? The only clown here is Seresin.” He chuckles and gently pulls it from off your nose. “I’ve been trying to figure out how lock this down for weeks now. That tux was going to be my ace. It’s about a half size too small, but I figured it might do the trick to make things more official. It’s a good thing I’ve got a girl who knows what she wants.”

“Don’t think you’re off the hook, Bradshaw. I still want to see you in it.”

“I can make that happen. Especially since that means I get to take you home with me tonight.” He drops a kiss on your cheek. “I’ve got an idea about what we can be next year though.”

“It’s not even midnight yet, and you’re thinking about next year?”

Bradley shrugs nonchalantly. “I’m all about playing the long game. Just want to give you something to look forward to.”

“Let’s hear it then,” you say, giving him an expectant look.

“Considering how we met and all, I think contestants from Supermarket Sweep would be a solid choice for us. There’s nothing sexier than some khakis and sweatshirts.”

You look delighted and amused and like his.

“Done. You know I am a big fan of you in a pair of khakis.”

Rooster tugs you to him again needing to taste your grin. He hears a cheer go up inside of the bar, probably for whoever won the contest, but he pretends it’s for him.

After all, he’s the one who got the girl.

Happy Halloween! I'm dropping a smitten Rooster into everyone's candy bucket this year! Thank you for reading!

You can read my other stories here!

taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @callsignspark @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @ofstoriesandstardust @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster x reader #rooster x you #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun maverick imagine

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lndsismaeverything · 8 months ago

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Drunken moments

Lnds men gets a little drunk and spills away their feelings at the moment ( MC is already in a relationship with him )

An: here I am writing another fic even though I don't wanna ᕕ(˵•̀෴•́˵)ᕗ took me 3 days to write this ...

Not proof read sorry for mistake and grammar issue. And some words

Xavier

You and Xavier are having a home hotpot. Just a little celebration form todays mission. It was his idea to eat hotpot in the new hotpot restaurant . But when y'all got there it was to crowded and have to wait 2 hours for a table.

Xavier was disappointed to say the least . It was late at night ,almost 10 pm already and he was really craving hotpot

" Xavier why not have hotpot at home? We can buy the ingredients at the store plush it be a lot cheaper and more food" you said looking at his gloomy expression turn into bright smile

" yea, it would be just the two of us too "

The two of you bought the ingredients and headed straight to your apartment since you have all the equipment for the hotpot

No later did you pulled out the alcoholic peach drink you bought a few days ago that was sitting in the fridge, nothing is better then having a cool drink with hotpot on a chilly night

Xavier didn't usually drink but today was an exception and was worth it after defeating a wonderer

I don't know if Xavier can hold his liquor or not judging by his appearance he looks like he'll be knock out cold after a few glasses. Or he can hold it every well since she's been living for over 214yrs on earth now

But let's say he's weak to alcohol for now-

Xavier cheeks are dusted with a hue of pink he should stop drinking while he's still sober. But he can't because of the delicious hotpot u made goes so well which this nice refreshing alcoholic peach drink

After cleaning up the table with the help of your boyfriend you decided to settling on the sofa, to watch a some random comedy video

" Xavier I think u have enough to drink " you said to your boyfriend and grabbing the alcoholic drink and put it on the coffee table, which he protested but let it go

You lay on the sofa , switching from show to show not knowing that Xavier stared at you lovingly. The next moment Xavier lean toward you and kissed your cheeks

It caught you in surprised of the sudden affection of his just now " you look pretty bunbun " Xavier wrapped his arm around your waist and snuggled close

You just smile at him realizing he's a bit drunk but also a bit sober but not completely.

" thank you for the delicious hotpot " his voice so gentle yet soothing

" can we hotpot like this everytime? " he said looking up at you as you played with his soft fluffy hair

" yes of course " you replied, your hand cupped his cheek as you draw small circles.Letting go he plopped his head back on your thighs snuggling close and holding you tighter making you laugh as it tickles

" my honey is the best person in the universe. And not only is she strong, beautiful , kind, trustworthy , independent and a bit stubborn sometimes . She also an amazing cook and Baker."

"I love her so much , my little starlight "

"Your my brightes star in my univers. Beaming brightly when I miss you. Reminding me that I'm not alone "

with that Xavier fell asleep. You turn off the TV and join him holding him tight as he lay on too of you

Both of you woke up from the sofa with back pain.

Zayne

You and zayne just got out of the bar and headed straight home.

Of course zayne didn't drink but that didn't mean you didn't. It was a bummer that zayne didn't enjoyed the free cocktail that the hospital will pay later on . Congratulating zayne for having the title of the youngest doctor that maded it so far in his career as a cardiac surgeon.

The small part only included zayne colleagues and you .

Greyson try to convince zayne to at least have one glass or a beer but zayne refused saying " I'm responsible for taking y/n home "

After zayne dropped you off home you invited him over saying you got him a gift for him. Grabbing the gift from th kitchen table you handed to him and congratulated him on his achievement

He open the gift and it was chocolates

" may I ?" He asked you told him it's his and he could eat it now if he wanted. Knowing zayne sweet tooth he immediately devoured 3 of them while you get something to go along with the chocolate and-

You forget to tell him those aren't just any regular chocolates

" zayne-" your cut off by the sight of him, cheeks tinted pink hes already unwrapped his 4th chocolate already

" these chocolate... I never tasted something like his before..its quite unique ..it taste like Cherry's and grapes.." he popped the the chocolate in his mouth

You told zayne that these chocolate has wine infuse in them. That's why it's taste like grapes and a hit of cherry

each chocolate ball contains 13% alcohol and are meant to enjoy slowly with something salty like ham or cured meat

" how many did you have already? "

" this is my 4th one "

Thinking he has enough already for one night you take the box out of his hands and settled it on the table

You let your boyfriend stay for the night as he can't drive, having eaten a lot of chocolate

You dragged him to your bedroom as he's in a daze looking at you with such fondness. After his shower you have him some spare clothes he left you in case he's staying over

Zayne, siting on the edge of the bed watches you gently dry his hair. He hasn't spoken much since he ate the chocolates which made you a bit worried

" dear, is everything alright ? You seem at a daze, you haven't spoken much since you at the chocolates "

Zayne just pulled you on his lap and started giving you soft butterfly kisses on your face and neck before replying

" it's just that you seem so beautiful that I consider myself lucky to have met you "

"Your existing in my life is everything to me , I can't imagine my life without you by my side...''

"Your my the warmth to my heart, with you I experienced summer in snowy blizzard"

" you're like my precious flower that can survive. in the winter"

" also I want my flower to be careful and not hey hurt during mission . I don't want to see her coming to the hospital injured "

After sharing a moment with your beloved snowman both of you settled to bed , zayne spoons you closely in hin arms kissing the top of your head before whispering " goodnight "

Rafayel

Rafayel avoid drinking during his art exhibition. Especially when someone hands him some wine , wanting to toast him for his great success as young artists

Rafayel doesn't drink the wine as it might be spiked or something. But he except the glass and carefully examinen the wine before cheering with some business men and taking a sip

He's very careful with his surroundings, the moment he say you coming through he excuses himself to be with you

" you late miss body guard "

You apologize and explained that the wonderer you delt today took longer then you expected

" what's important now is that your here "

The art exhibition almost lasted for 4hours, you where by rafayel side the entire time as his request for making up to him for being late.

Rafayel having to meet a lot of people congratulate and toasting him for his newest work , grew more and more red as he takes sip after sip of his wine

Being by your boyfriend as he spoke with some important investors and buyers you noticed Rafayel getting less and less sober

Something wasn't right here, you felt uneasy why was there only wine served and not other drinks?

And the wine they give out isn't weak one either. You saw on the bottle it was 17% alcohol

Feeling worried you looked at Rafayel, you can feel Rafayel getting annoyed and wanted to leave as more people approach him and want to speak with him bout his art you decided its time to go

" let's us give you a toast, to our partner ship Mr. Rafayel ! " they raised there glass before Rafayel could take another sip you took his glass from him and-

" sorry gentlemens I'll drink on Rafayel behalf, he had enough for today " they understand and you leave with your boyfriend

You hold Rafayel hands the inter way out, Rafayel couldn't help but blush, admiring you as you took him away from those annoying people

You called Thomas telling him your taking Rafayel home as he's clearly getting drunk and it was probably someone plan wanting Rafayel to get drunk so they can write something about him and publishing it on the news.

Thomas understand and ended the art exhibition earlier then expected

You call a cab and headed to Rafayel house ( island )

You unluck his house and guide Rafayel inside

" you know what miss bodyguard , your the best bodyguard there is"

" without you my world would be full of black and greys "

" I miss you when your not around "

" I hate it when you keep me waiting "

" but I love it even when your late you try to make an effort to come see me and make it up to me "

" you're my special pearl from the deep sea"

You stayed with Rafayel for the night, the next morning thosmas blew up Rafayel phone asking him to check the news

The news about 'having a secret relationship with his bodyguard?' With a picture of the two of you holding has while waiting for a cab

Sylus

You don't even know how sylus got drunk or at least he looks like he's drunk . When you where at the bace you heard them coming back. So you decided to great them at the door and asked how it go

But you where met with sylus disheveled look like his been hit by a truck

" I'm going to my room don't bother me" sylus said passing through you

You ask luke and kierran about him as they just came from a business deal

You asked like and kieren if sylus drink got spiked . They laugh at you, you think the great leader of onychinus got his drink spiked and fell for it ?

It does sound ridiculous because you know he can handle his alcohol.

Like explain that sylus in hailed some gass that enemy planned , supposedly to make you weak and not able to think straight kinda like alcohol

" yea boss man got hit with ton of gass that's why he looks like that " kierran informed you

" don't worry boss won't go down that easily it will wear off in a couple of hours "

you headed straight to sylus bedroom to check on him but you go to the kitchen counter first to get two glasses of gin fiz that you prepared earlier

You don't know if it's a good idea or not but you already made them anyway

Holding two glass you couldn't knock on the door your about to call for sylus until the door open for you to come in

" didn't I say don't bother me?" stood beside his record player in a robe clearly stated he just got out of the shower

" but you still open the door for me " you settled the two glasses of gin fizz at the coffee table at taking as seat before turning to him

" I heard form like and kierran. How are you doing? Everything okay?"

He just sighed and pick up the glass and drinks it enjoying the refreshing drink before sitting next to you and shared about what happened

" have I ever told you when your with me on the meetings times goes faster? "

"But today was particularly slow bec you where to there so I told them to hurry it up as they where waisting my time. They didn't took that lightly so they grew a surprise attack "

" I was pleased as it turn out like that because I didn't needed them anyway "

" the moment the gass took a but affect on me on the ride to the bace my mind was occupied by you "

" I couldn't stop thinking about you "

" your laughter, your smile, you scent ,everything "

He finished his glass and looked at you, his eyes soft as he gently caress your cheek

" your everything to me..."

" without you I feel trapped in a cage , living out life without it's full potential"

"With you around, I like feel the chains around me being broken setting me free "

" you are my key to my cage..."

" my kitten, my sweetie, my miss hunter, my beloved...."

He's words are sweet and he ment everything he said but you couldnt help but tease him a bit

"Who are you and what have you don't to my sylus" you said you couldn't hold in your laugher .

Sylus just chuckled and shook his head .It was rare for sylus to be sharing his feelings and thoughts

" I wonder if it's the gun fizz fault or the gass you in heiled" you wonder tapping your chin

"Gues we'll never know the answer'' Sylus just took both your hand and gently lean in to kiss your lips

And took another

And another

Before you giggle at him, removing you hand from his , you looped it around his neck before kissing him back

After you finish your glass sylus carried you to him bed , he wants to be sleeping next to you and waking up next you everyday and every night

He carefully lifted the blanket up and holds you tight before humming as soft tune that both of you fell asleep within minutes

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ninyard · 10 months ago

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I was thinking about Aaron; older, his twins almost 10 or 11, and everything is… normal? His daughters get to say my daddy is a doctor or my mommy is a scientist when their teachers in school ask about their jobs. He goes to dance recitals, or little league tournaments, Katelyn bakes little cakes for the school bake sale when she has the time to do so. Most evenings he comes home to a home cooked meal, or he’s happy to hand his wife a hot plate of food when she’s finished a long shift. They have a mortgage, and bills, and insurance and a college fund for the girls - they wave to the neighbours when they pass them in the mornings, or have a beer on each others porches in the evenings. They have to water their grass. They help their kids with their homework. He’s been to therapy. He sleeps at night. He wakes up in the morning. They’re a family, and they work, and everything is normal.

One day their youngest by four minutes is having a shower in their main bathroom. He should’ve fixed the lock when he said he would. Katelyn is at work, she should be home soon - he’s in the kitchen, the radio is on behind him, the extractor fan is loud. He doesn’t pay attention to the first round of banging, leaning over the check that there was nobody knocking on their front door, and then he hears it again. Three, four solid knocks of fist on wood from the upstairs bathroom. The older of the two meets him on the stairs just in time for him to hear his youngest calling out, “dad!”

“The lock is jammed!” she yells, and Aaron tries it from the outside. Nothing - no movement, no give.

“Stand back,” Aaron says through the door. “Don’t be scared, just stand back in the tub.”

When he’s certain she’s retreated, he tries it with his shoulder first - nothing. Again with his shoulder, a hard, forceful whack - there’s a little bit of movement, but still not enough. He’s taken a step back before he’s realised what he’s doing, and aims his foot for just below the door knob. The second his heel meets splintering plywood, he hears it. The thumping against a wall, or maybe it’s just the pounding heart in his chest. As the door swings open he feels the racquet in his hands, the blood on his face, the hands in his hair.

This has been in my drafts for so long that I’ve lost where I was going with it but something something Aaron accidentally being triggered by/around his kids and having to deal with that, knowing he’s scaring them, knowing they don’t know whats happening. Aaron feeling so far away from his past but being transported back in an instant.

#maybe I’ll finish this thought eventually #aaron minyard #mine

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sweetdispatch · 3 months ago

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Step 1 - L. Hughes

Seven Steps pairing: Luke Hughes x fem!reader summary: You went to a party and met Luke with whom you decided to leave the house warning: none

It took a lot of convincing for your friends to take you out on a party. You weren't a fan of them. Much more you preferred to stay at home and read a book. This was your friend’ boyfriend's birthday party and after a couple days, you agreed to go with them. You went shopping to buy a gift for him. The last thing you wanted was to show up with empty hands.

You promised yourself to stay there for two hours and get back home. You weren't much of a drinker and you couldn't understand how people can get drunk at every opportunity they have. Your friends were drunk dancing on a dancefloor. Meanwhile you were standing in a kitchen with a beer in your hand.

“You also don’t want to be here?” You heard an unfamiliar voice.

“Yeah but the birthday boy is my friend’ boyfriend so I showed up” You took a sip.

“I’m Luke” He reached out your hand to you. You shook it and looked up at him.

“I’m Y/N” You smiled at him.

“How about ditching the party and going somewhere else?” Luke proposed but you were sceptical.

You didn’t know him but eventually you agreed. You put the cup down and left with Luke the house. He told you that not far away from here is a McDonalds that is open 24/7. You nodded and you two were walking there in silence until he spoke again.

“So Y/N, what are you doing?” Luke asked you.

“Currently I’m walking” Luke laughed at your answer. “I’m working in my mum’ shop and trying to enjoy my boring life. How about you?”

“I’m an athlete and all I’m doing is training and playing” Luke answered.

“Let me guess. Since we’re in New Jersey I’m guessing you’re a hockey player” You joked but Luke agreed with you. “Oh, that’s cool. I don’t watch hockey but my brother loves this sport and is at every game”

“But you’re not a fan?” Luke asked you again.

“Not really. I mean I’ll watch a game with him from time to time but it’s not my cup of tea. Does it mean you hate me now?” You joked.

“Actually, no. It made me like you even more” Luke said to you and you felt your cheeks burning.

After 10 minutes, you two arrived in front of the McDonalds and Luke opened the door for you. He insisted on paying for your order too but you didn’t let him. When you two get the food you started eating and the conversation was coming so naturally between both of you.

“You’re stubborn” Luke said and took a bite.

“I know but I don’t want you to pay for me when I have my money” You shrugged.

“Coming back to the hockey topic, do you like any other sport or you’re not a fan of it?” Luke asked you. He wanted to know.

“I like running and that’s basically the only sport I do but to watch, I like soccer. I used to play it in high school and sometimes I watch games” You took a sip of your drink. “You? Do you like other sports or is it just hockey?”

“I like golfing. I like to watch football and baseball but hockey is pretty much my whole life. My parents played and now me and my brothers are playing” Luke told you.

“Wait, you said your brothers” Luke nodded, not sure where the conversation was going. “You’re one of the brothers who plays in New Jersey?”

“Yeah. Me and Jack play here and Quinn is in Vancouver” Luke replied.

“That must be cool to do the same profession as your brothers” You said but noticed the weird look in Luke’ eyes.

“It is but it’s also tiring. As the youngest, I’m all the time compared to them and sometimes it's annoying” Luke admitted to you.

“I get it. Back in school, I was all the time compared to my brother and I was so mad at everyone for this” You told him and continued eating.

You and Luke sat there for a couple hours. The conversation was coming naturally between you two. There was no small talk and you learnt a lot about him and he learnt a lot about you. It was so nice to have someone to talk to without being judged. You had a lot of laughs together too but you were sure that it’s one time thing.

“I need to get back home. I promised to be around midnight but currently it’s 3AM” You told him and stood up.

“Let me walk you home. I don’t want you to get back alone when it’s dark” Luke proposed.

“I live like 30 minutes from here. I don’t want you to walk this distance. I’ll call the cab” You told him but he stopped you.

“I drove here in a car. We can go back to the house where the party is and I can drive you home” Luke insisted.

“I don’t want to bother you” You looked at him and saw that Luke won’t let it go. “Okay, thank you”

After a quick walk, you sat on the passenger seat of Luke’ car. The whole drive was quiet. You two felt comfortable in each other's company. It wasn’t an awkward silence but something both of you needed. He parked in front of your house and you sat there a little longer.

“Thank you for the night and thank you for the drive. It was really nice to meet you Luke” You told him and grabbed the car door handle. Before you could open the door, he stopped you.

“Can I have your phone number? I don’t want this to be a one night thing because I had a fun time with you” Luke asked shyly.

“Sure” Luke handed you his phone. You quickly type your number. “Thanks again for tonight”

You exited the car and walked into your house. You ran upstairs to get ready for bed. After 30 minutes you left the bathroom and laid in your bed. You grabbed your phone and noticed a message from an unknown number. You knew it was Luke and quickly you sent him back a text. You placed the phone under your pillow and fell asleep.

Step 2

#luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes fanfiction #luke hughes au #nhl #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #new jersey devils #seven steps

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theaceace · 2 years ago

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An old concept that I'm still feral over, but a Dreamling fic in which the dreamling relationship is chronicled entirely by Yelp reviews of the New Inn.

Reviews are either 5* or 1* with surprisingly little in between, and the business owner replies are always a riot. They start off fairly normal, talking about the food and drink, the couple of guest rooms upstairs, the location and prices etc, but then they start to get weird.

Constantine leaves 3*, beer is shit whiskey is ok not haunted which is more than I can say for most london pubs and the response is Thanks Jo, but you're still banned

4* this place is run by my history professor and it's amazing but he asked me about my overdue essay three times so I can't give it 5* and Hob, who has had multiple students visit the pub for the sole purpose of doing this, is just like you still haven't submitted that, get off yelp and start citing your sources

There are multiple 5* reviews like would give 10* if i could, the owner chased off a neo nazi with a literal sword he pulled out from behind the bar

5* should probably give it less because a couple of times the answers to the history round on the monthly quiz night have been wrong, but otherwise it's a solid little place for a reasonably priced pint and a nice afternoon and Hob's response is just those answers were right

And then Dream comes back and the reviews start... Changing, a bit

One of the 1* reviews is just complaining about the fact that there was a bird at the bar and no one got rid of it and the reply from Hob is that's Matthew, he has a tab. Several of the 5* reviews are also about the fact that sometimes there's a bird in the bar

One of the 5* reviews is saw the most beautiful goth twink in the world, will definitely be going back and Hob nearly deletes that one. The reply instead is that's my boyfriend, unlike Matthew he never pays his tab

5* i have no idea how i got there or found the place because i swaer i was halfway across london from where google maps says it is but anyway the bartender was really great and understandig when I started crying on him, will defiantely go back if reality ever warps like that again. Response from owner: yeah sorry about the reality warping, we don't get it either

1* I only wish I could have given this establishment a glowing review – fabulous service, lovely food and a sumptuous wine I hadn't expected, but unfortunately I had to see my brother's face. Response from owner: Desire get off the internet, it doesn’t need your help

#sandman #dreamling #hob gadling #dream of the endless #the new inn

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ellswritings · 3 months ago

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Shake It For Me

Cody Rhodes x Reader

TW: Country music (ik ik, I’m sorry. It’s cute tho I promise), cursing, men who can’t take no for an answer, Cody being possessive/protective, foul language, some spiciness (2/10), neck kissing, I think that’s it…

Tags: @reebs-luvs-rhodes-and-wrestling

═══════•°• ⚠ •°•═══════

Nashville Tennessee.

One of Y/N’s favorite places to be. Whenever she saw that they would be putting on a show in Music City, she couldn’t help but smile. It was one of the only other places she would consider living in besides her hometown. The people are amazing, the food is phenomenal, the sights are beautiful, and even though she would never admit it out loud, country music is her guilty pleasure.

When the plane landed earlier that day, she was practically buzzing with excitement. Everyone in the locker room watched her with amusement as she went through the entire day with a huge smile on her face. Her energy was so contagious that she managed to convince even the people who usually don’t like going out after shows to go out with them to the bar.

Cody watched his best friend with nothing but adoration and enthusiasm. He loves seeing her like this, so in her element. He spent the entire day before the show with her, allowing her to drag him to all of her favorite places. Broadway Street, her favorite hole-in-the-wall barbecue joint, the boot shop she always stopped at even though she already had a closet full of cowboy boots. They decided to sight see while they could since they had to spend the entirety of their Friday at the arena for SmackDown.

It was already pretty late after the show ended and the talent was released, but she was determined to go out to the bar. She had her outfit for the night packed in her gym bag and everything. A sparkly red top, cut off shorts, and a nice pair of brown cowboy boots. She looked like a native to the city. Even with exhaustion swirling around inside them, simply seeing the bright smile on her face was enough to get everyone to the bar she had found.

It was one of the most lovely honky tonk bars in Nashville. People were eating, talking, dancing, and drinking. It carried a wholesome feeling where tourists and locals could come together just to enjoy their evening. It was a safe place where everyone could soak in the neon lights and whiskey-heavy air.

And Y/N was absolutely thriving.

Cody, on the other hand, was just along for the ride.

It's not that he didn’t want to be there. He always went out with Y/N after shows when she wanted to go. Sometimes they would simply go back to their shared hotel room and watch a movie, or they’d do a little snack run to a local gas station and sit up talking, it all just depended. But the two of them always ended up sharing a hotel room whenever going anywhere, so they usually drove and stuck together when going out.

He had a beer in his grip, the condensation of the glass hitting the soft skin of his hand due to the humidity in the air. His drink was mostly untouched, only a sip here and there. They planned on calling an uber when it came time to leave, but something inside of him told him not to drink. He leaned against the bar nodding along to whatever Josh and Jon were saying to one another. He wishes he could say he was paying attention, but truthfully, he wasn’t. His eyes kept flickering to Y/N.

She managed to be everywhere and nowhere at the same time. From conversations and laughing with Rebecca (Becky Lynch), to taking tequila shots with Bianca and Trinity, and even dancing to the beat while she talked animatedly to Kevin and Rami. She fit right into the lively scene, looked like she was exactly where she belonged standing under the flashing lights.

Cody always knew she loved nights out like this. Where it was everyone just enjoying their time, not worried about catching an early flight or interviews. She said it felt like a family outing, and with all of them being on the road so much and being away from home, it was nice to have a makeshift family here.

There was just something different about seeing her here though. Seeing her in her true element, completely in her zone, having all the fun in the world. It was nice seeing her so carefree. Y/N has a tendency of carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. She takes on her own burdens along with everyone else’s, because that’s just who she is. She loves everyone and would do anything to help.

That’s what drew him to her in the first place. They’ve been friends since his ‘Dashing’ Cody Rhodes phase. Even when he left WWE, she was the one person who consistently kept in touch with him, who went out of her way to visit him in Atlanta, who came to see his shows when he was in AEW, who never missed a birthday or important milestone in his life. She even threw him a huge welcome back party when he returned to WWE. Y/N stood by his side always. She truly was his best and closest friend.

“You know… you got a bit of a staring problem.”

Cody blinked, turning his head over to Colby who took the empty seat next to Josh and Jon. The twins snicker at the man’s joke causing Cody to roll his eyes playfully. The knowing smirk on his three friends' faces makes him sigh, pushing his beer further away from him.

“I do not,” he denies smoothly, keeping his face stoic. He tries to cover up his reaction by retaining an unbothered tone, but glass is harder to see through.

“Uh-huh,” Colby nods mockingly, taking a sip of his own drink. “Anyone who’s glanced your way knows those baby blues have been on her since we got here.”

“He’s got a point,” Jon jumps in with a menacing grin. “You like lookin’ at her so much, why don’t you just… I don’t know– hang out with her?” He quips sassily.

“I am hanging out with her,” Cody tells them. “She’s just having fun with other people too. I don’t need to suffocate her all the time.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Josh chuckles. “Don’t y’all practically live together? Stayin’ in the same hotel rooms n’ shit. Woulda thought you’d be attached at the hip tonight. ‘Specially after her win against Natalya.”

“I’m just letting her enjoy her night,” Cody tries to laugh it off. “Damn. It’s almost like you want me to be following her around.”

“It is entertaining watching you trail her like a puppy dog,” Colby laughs obnoxiously, Cody lightly smacking his arm.

“I don’t follow her around.”

“Sure, man,” Colby pats his back, getting up to go bother his wife. “Keep tellin’ yourself that.”

Cody ignores him, but he does force himself to look away from Y/N. It makes him uneasy taking his eyes off of her. Despite Y/N knowing Nashville like the back of her hand, neither of them are from here. It’s a city filled with strange people that they don’t know. Anything could happen and it makes him shift uncomfortably. It takes about five minutes before he finally caves and turns back around to find her.

That’s when the music shifts.

It’s a newer song that she showed him in the car a few months ago. “A Bar Song (Tipsy)” by Shaboozey. He remembers her mentioning there was a line dance that accompanied the tune, but they never had enough time for her to teach it to him.

He watches as Y/N’s face lights up. She excitedly shakes Bianca’s arm, a small squeal escaping her lips. “C’mon, I know this one!” She exclaims, trying ot pull the EST onto the dance floor.

Biance laughs but shakes her head, “You pick the one damn dance I don’t know.”

“I can show it to you,” Y/N pleads. “Please, please, please, please…” she folds her hands together beggingly.

“Just go do it,” Bianca encourages her. “I’ll join you on the next one.”

This 9 to 5 ain’t working

So why the hell do I work so hard

Y/N huffs with a small pout but nonetheless runs out to the dance floor. She hops in the front of the line, quickly picking up where everyone else is already at. Cody barely noticed that she had gone, he knew it was only a matter of time before she ended up on the dance floor. It’s her thing. But just because he wasn’t looking at her, doesn’t mean everyone else wasn’t.

A low whistle is heard from Austin Theory as Grayson Waller’s eyes nearly pop out of his head. “Damn…” Theory sucks his bottom lip between his teeth. “Look at her!” He claps loudly. “Go L/N, go!”

“Man, I didn’t even know Y/N had that in her,” Grayson adds.

Cody frowns, his grip on his beer tightening. He knows their comments don’t mean anything, but it annoys him sufficiently hearing anyone comment on his best friend. “Had what in her?” He asks with a small sigh.

“Dude,” Austin snorts, gesturing over to the front of the bar, “Just look.”

So, he did.

He turns, glancing back to where he was just looking. She had just gotten in line for the dance, but when his eyes find her again– fuck. He wasn’t at all prepared to see what he does when he sees her dancing form.

One, here comes the two to the three to the four

Tell 'em bring another out, we need plenty more

Two steppin' on the table, she don't need a dancefloor

Oh my, good Lord

People were lining up all around her. It’s not hard to see that she became the center of attention in a very short amount of time. Her movements are so fluid, like she’s secretly been a professional dancer this entire time rather than a wrestler. Her feet move perfectly in time with the beat, her hips matching the upbeat rhythm. It sends Cody’s mind spinning as he tries to keep up with her movements, but it’s almost impossible. All he sees is a blur of sparkling red and the clack of her heeled boots.

Every step she takes, every spin, every heel touch is deliberate. She knows the hold she has on the entire bar. Everyone is either watching her to pick up on the steps or simply just to stare. Her movements are completely effortless yet… dangerous.

Someone pour me up a double shot of whiskey

They know me and Jack Daniels got a history

There's a party downtown near Fifth Street

Everybody at the bar gettin' tipsy

She adds one extra step that clearly wasn’t originally in the choreography. She spins, dropping low to the ground which makes something catch in the American Nightmare’s throat. He clenches his beer even more than he was before. Because– holy shit.

He’d never seen her in this light before.

He always knew she was beautiful. Just because he’s her best friend doesn’t mean he’s blind. He’s aware of how easily she could turn heads. Her mere presence gains attention no matter where she goes. But this? This is something else. Something that made his stomach tighten in a way he wasn’t sure he wanted to acknowledge.

But his trance is quickly broken when he notices a guy slowly finding his way towards Y/N. Cody’s icy stare locks onto the approaching threat. The stranger clearly thinks he’s slick, that no one can see what he’s doing, but Cody did. He saw his intentions from clear across the bar. He tries to fit in with the large crowd, dancing his way towards the front unil he finally reaches his destination.

Y/N.

Cody stiffens as he watches he man lean forward, whispering something into Y/N’s ear. She laughs at whatever it was– not the kind of laugh she gives Cody whenever he tells her a joke, but a polite, dismissive one. One that should have communicated she didn’t want to have a conversation.

“I haven’t seen you around here before.”

Y/N fights the urge to roll her eyes. This is the exact reason why she wanted Bianca to come out onto the floor with her. It’s easier to get rid of over zealous guys when she has back up. She doesn’t usually like to cause confrontation, especially on the night’s where she gets to go out, but she’s not afraid of it. She just really didn’t want to engage or cause a scene if she she could avoid it. She doesn’t have to ruin his night, and he doesn’t have to ruin hers. Hopefully he knows how to take a hint.

“Yeah, I’m in town visiting for the weekend,” she replies in a clipped tone. “So, if you’ll excuse me.”

She tries to dance away from him, but he doesn’t back down. Y/N can already feel the upcoming conversation and she knows the stranger isn’t going to take her bruising his ego very lightly. She ried to make a graceful escape, but he clearly couldn’t take that for an answer.

“Visitng, huh?” He licks his bottom lip, his movements sloppy in comparison to hers. “What for?”

“Work.” Once again her answer is cut and dry, not revealing too much about herself, showing she has no interest in continuing the conversation.

“Well, what’s a pretty lil’ thing like you do for work?” He inches closer to her, his head dipping down closer to her neck. She can smell the cheap bourbon on his breath and it makes her eye twitch. She tries to take a blatant step forward to get out of the situation. At this point she just wants off the dance floor even though the song isn’t over yet. “Oh c’mon darlin’, where you goin’?” He moves to try and grab her waist. “I’m just tryin’ to get to know you.”

Y/N grabs his wrist, not tight enough to hurt him, but firm enough to get her message across. “Don’t touch me,” she says stiffly. “Find someone else to bother.”

If she wanted to, she could lay him out across the bar floor in a second. She’s taken down women who are bigger than him, but again, she doesn’t feel the need to cause a scene and get herself kicked out of the bar. Especially when it was her idea to go out. She doesn’t want to ruin her friends’ night over some guy who can’t keep his hands to himself.

“You really gonna be like that?” He deepens his voice to try and make himself sound more intimidating. He shrugs, “That’s all right. I don’t mind a little game of cat n’ mouse.”

Y/N sighs. It’s almost like he begins to move in slow motion. She can see his hands are now trying to skim far too low for comfort. She braces herself to get kicked out of the bar for breaking the guy's nose when suddenly a familiar arm coils itself around her waist, pulling her into his chest. In an instant her senses are flooded with the familiar addictive mix of woodsy cologne, clean aftershave, and a hint of warm leather.

Cody.

He lowers his head, his lips ghosting across her neck as he glares daggers into the man in front of them. He places chaste kisses along her skin, leaving goosebumps in his wake. It’s a clear claim of what’s his. A silent warning.

The strange man looks startled by Cody’s appearance. Y/N has to admit that she’s a bit surprised herself. One minute he was lounging at the bar with the guys and the next he’s behind her, his hands griping her hips like a vice. Not that she could dwell on it for long as her mind is fogged by his intoxicating presence. She finds herself leaning into his touch, her head falling against his chest. Normally, she would be more considerate, not being so touchy with her best friend, but there’s something about the possessiveness in his stance that makes her forget he’s her best friend in the first place.

The man blinks, clearly thrown by the way Y/N immediately reacted to Cody, “Uh–”

“She’s not interested,” Cody said flatly. His voice was calm. Too calm.

He scoffs, probably feeling emasculated by the way Cody doubles his size just in muscle. “I don’t see her complainin’ about me being here.”

Cody’s grip on her tightens, “That’s because she doesn’t have to.”

The guy looks like he’s about to say something again, but he’s startled by Y/N suddenly letting out a breahy moan. That’s when he notices Cody full on nipping at Y/N’s neck, leaving marks over her soft skin. Y/N is so lost in the feeling of Cody Rhodes that she doesn’t even realize the guy had left. He had muttered something under his breath that neither of them caught before finally taking off.

Y/N giggles, “He’s gone…” she says teasingly. “You can stop that now.” Not that puts forth any effort to move away from him.

Cody barely looks up, keeping her flush against him, “Y’know… I think I’m good where I’m at,” he mumbles.

Y/N smiles, turning in his arms in order to face him. She loops her arms around his neck, amusement dancing in her eyes. “So, what? You just decided to mosey on over here and stake your claim?” She pokes fun at his show of possessiveness.

Cody smirks, enjoying the new view of her face, “Just figured you could use a better dance partner.”

Her eyes light up, “Oh?” She grins, her fingers lacing through his bright blonde locks. “And you think you’re up for that?”

Cody admires the way the light dances on her face for a moment before smiling softly, “Why don’t you teach me?”

The flirty tension disappears for a moment and all she feels is pure love for the man in front of her. Her face is overtaken with excitement as she grabs his hands and places them exactly where she wants them.

“You ever tried swing dancing before?” She asks him with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

He raises an eyebrow, “No… But I’ve heard of it.”

“Well, saddle up cowboy,” she says in the worst southern accent he’s ever heard. “ ‘Cause I’m about to take your ass for a ride.”

“Country Girl (Shake It For Me)” blasts through the bar as Y/N begins the dance. Other people are participating in the designated line dance for the song which looks about just as complicated as what Y/N was trying to show him.

“Normally the guy leads, but since you’re a newbie, I’ll take the reins,” she says with a cocky smirk that makes Cody roll his eyes. “Just don’t fight me, okay? I’ll give you a little nudge every time I want you to move. Just follow my lead.”

Got a little boom in my big truck

Gonna open up the doors and turn it up

Gonna stomp my boots in the Georgia mud

Gonna watch you make me fall in love

Get up on the hood of my daddy's tractor

Up on the tool box, it don't matter

Down on the tailgate

Girl I can't wait

To watch you do your thing

Cody is slightly taken aback by how quick paced the dance moves. He watches in awe as Y/N leads him through the dance, but somehow makes it seem like it’s him doing all the work. She spins herself outwards before flinging herself back into him, hooking her leg around his to slide down. He squats down slightly with her, following along closely.

Y/N grins, “Look at you, cassanova,” she says teasingly. “You’re a natural.”

“I’ve got a good teacher,” he fires back, his tone gravelly and his eyes solely focused on her.

Shake it for the young bucks sittin' in the honky-tonks

For the rednecks rockin' 'til the break of dawn

The DJ spinnin' that country song

C'mon, c'mon, c'mon

Shake it for the birds, shake it for the bees

Shake it for the catfish swimmin' down deep in the creek

For the crickets and the critters and the squirrels

Shake it to the moon, shake it for me girl

Y/N lets out a small yelp as Cody spins her rapidly under his arm before dipping her in time with the beat drop. She raises her eyebrows as he pulls her back up, suddenly taking control from her as they keep dancing. She nods her head, “Not bad…” she teases. “But don’t get too cocky.”

Cody hums, his grip tightening just enough to send a shiver up her spine. Without warning, he practically threw her outwards before pulling her back in, having her jump in the air and into his arms. Her legs are tucked under his bicep as he uses the momentum to rock forward before launching her back out onto the floor. Y/N feels the breath leave her lungs, not knowing how he picked up on such an advanced move so fast. She exhales shakily as they continue to dance.

“Show off,” she breathes out, her chest rising and falling as she tries to steady herself.

He chuckles, his face mere inches from hers. “You walked right into that one.”

“I’m starting to think maybe you have done this before,” Y/N raises a suspicious brow.

“And why would I lie to you?” Cody asks her with a small smile.

“So I would be more impressed when you pulled something like that,” She titles her head, once again spinning under his arm.

Now dance, like a dandelion

In the wind on the hill underneath the pines

Yeah, move like the river flows

Feel the kick drum down deep in your toes

All I wanna do is get to holdin' you

And get to knowin' you

And get to showin' you

And get to lovin' you

'Fore the night is through

Baby, you know what to do

“Ever think maybe I’m just a fast learner?” He counters with his signature half-smile.

“Hmm,” Y/N looks him up and down, still not convinced in he sliightest. “You may pick certain things up quickly, Rhodes, but that foot work tells me you have some experience.” She nods towards his boot-clad feet that are moving far too smoothly for it to be his first time.

He sighs dramatically, his smile growing. “All right, all right…” his sparkling orbs meet hers. “You caught me.”

Y/N scoffs loudly as he dips her and swings her body up. She squeezes his hand as a way to scold him, “Why didn’t you just tell me you knew how to swing?”

Cody’s eyes soften as he looks at her. The way her eyes glimmer under the light of the bar. The way her posture is more relaxed than usual due to the small amounts of alcohol circulating through her system. She looks free, comfortable even. Seeing her here compared to at work, it’s nice. Watching her be able to let go.

“...Maybe I did just want to impress you,” he admits quietly.

Y/N’s heart flutters at the confession. She shoots him a dopey smile of her own, her hand moving before her brain can register. She cups the side of his face as they continue dancing to the beat of the next song that starts to play. “You always impress me, Rhodes…” she says tenderly. “You don’t even have to try. You’ve been impressing me since your ‘Dashing’ days.”

Cody laughs, his chest rumbling with the melody of his own voice. Y/N’s always loved the sound of his laugh. It’s more satisfying to hear than the music blasting through the speakers around them. “You mean that?”

“Of course,” Y/N laughs like it’s the most incredulous thing she’s ever been asked. “You’re always finding new ways to keep me on my toes.”

He leans into her touch, her hand never leaving his face. His fingers trace small circles onto the small amount of exposed skin between her top and shorts. He’s never felt more comfortable in his life. The way their bodies move perfectly in sync, the trail of chills he leaves whenever he moves his hands to a different location. The way his own heart rate speeds up when she lightly fiddles with the ends of his hair.

At this point, they both knew what they did to each other.

And it was about time they both stopped acting like it didn’t affect them.

This wouldn’t be the first time one of them got a little too possessive over the other. Y/N would never admit to it, but she’s interjected herself into many conversations Cody has had with other females who got a little too close for comfort. Cody did the same. He remembered a specific moment when Damian Priest tried his hand at flirting with her, and all Cody remembers was seeing red before he was suddenly pulling Y/N away with some fake emergency he came up with.

They both chalked it up to friendly behavior, using the excuse that no one was good enough for the other. And they did truly believe that, but not for unselfish reasons. It’s because they believed the only person meant for the other was each other.

“Y’know, you say that, but then you’re the one out here pulling out crazy dance moves that I didn’t even know you could do,” he whispers in her ear as she spins around. Her back is now flushly pressed against his chest. His breath hitches when she rolls her hips at just the right time with the perfect amount of pressure. “I mean… why did you never tell me you could move like this?”

Y/N leans her head to look back up at him, looping her hands around his neck. “You never asked.”

Cody leans down to whisper in her ear, his smile growing when she pushes herself impossibly closer to him. “You’ll have to show me what else you’re hiding when we get back to the hotel…”

“You askin’ for private dance lessons, Rhodes?” Y/N grins teasingly.

“Obviously,” Cody scoffs out even though both of them know that is nowhere near what he meant. “I might have some basic swing experience, but I’ve clearly got some catching up to do if I’m gonna be your new dance partner.”

“That’s a big commitment…” Y/N warns. Cody is now suddenly aware of how close her face is to his. Her lips are ghosting his, the smell of tequila and minty gum infiltrating his senses. “You sure you’re up for the challenge?”

“As long as you’re willing to keep me around,” he replies, somehow managing to inch closer to her, noses brushing against each other.

“I’ve managed to keep you on a leash for this long,” she smiles. “I don’t plan on letting you go anytime soon...”

And with that, she closes the gap between them, her lips colliding with his. The kiss is tender and full of yearning. After years of unspoken tensions and pretending to be just friends, it has to be the most satisfying thing in the world to feel one another in this capacity. Y/N shifts, turning around to fully face him, lips only separating for a split second before she’s back on him.

The entire bar around them fades as Cody wraps his arms around her waist. He pulls her into him, embracing her in the way he’s always wanted to. Words couldn’t convey everything that this kiss does. They know exactly what the other is thinking, what they want to say, simply by the way their mouths move in sync.

Y/N smiles against his lips, her own giddiness getting the best of her. Cody pulls back slightly, pressing his forehead to hers, “What are you smiling like that for, huh?”

Y/N rolls her eyes and tries to push him away but he doesn’t let her move even a centimeter further. “Nuh uh,” he teases. “Who’s got you smiling like that?”

Y/N huffs, not wanting to give him the satisfaction just yet, “You already know why, asshole.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I wanna hear you say it,” he raises an expectant eyebrow. “So I’ll ask again…” he leans forward, “why are you smiling?”

She’s never been able to fight the influence his perfectly blue eyes have on her. Any time he flashed those icy irises in her direction, she knew she was a goner. Reluctantly, she sighs, “Because of you…”

His cocky smirk returns, “Yeah? Because of me?”

Y/N wants to wipe the smugness of his face, but she can’t help finding it endearing, “Yes. Because of you.”

“Well, shit…” he smiles goofily. “If I would’ve known I could make you smile like that I would’ve kissed you sooner.”

“Oh shut up,” she scoffs out a laugh before grabbing his collar and pulling him into once more, connecting her lips with his again.

Now this time both of them are smiling and anyone looking at them knows those dopey smiles aren’t fading anytime soon. The line of friendship that was once between them has been completely obliterated. There was no going back from this.

And it’s clear, neither of them wanted to.

#female reader #love story #cody rhodes x reader #cody rhodes imagine #cody rhodes #world wrestling entertainment #wwe imagine #wwe smackdown #seth rollins #jey uso #jimmy uso #becky lynch #bianca belair #kevin owens #sami zayn #naomi wwe

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