#and pair bonds aren’t about belonging

[wolfsbaneandthistle]

Pair bonds, the not-marriages of the Enithian galaxy.

[highvern]

Totally Scrooged

Pairing: Lee Seokmin x f!reader

Genre: neighbor!au, idiots to lovers, fluff/angst/smut

warnings:  alcohol consumption, fingering, oral sex (f & m receiving), protected sex, lots of crying, mentions of cheating (not reader or seokmin), theater nerd Seokmin

Length: ~16k

Note: I was hoping to post this way earlier but alas. I got sick back to back over the holidays. ANYWAYS thank u my sweet @gyuswhore for beta reading and talking me down from the edge and @miniseokminnies for all the theater knowledge. And @ugh-yoongi bc words are hard. CHECK OUT the rest of the fics on @camandemstudios and keep an eye for our next project

summary: When your ex decides to propose to his best friend he told you not to worry about only eleven months after your breakup, you decide the holidays aren’t worth it this year. You’re dedicated to ignoring the red and green splashed on every surface, but your neighbor has a way of convincing you maybe the holidays aren’t totally bad.

collab m.list || m.list

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

Shot number four is about the time you realize drinking your sorrows alone in your apartment on a Saturday night is a little bit pathetic. But you unlock your phone out of habit and the same picture of your ex down on one knee in the middle of the street in marathon gear stares back at you and a fifth shot sounds exactly like what you need.

At least the burn of peppermint schnapps is festive.

Ten months. You and Sam split barely ten months and he’s already engaged to Carson. 

After three years of dating, getting Sam to talk about plans further than a month out was like pulling teeth. When he asked you to move in with him you thought there was a very real chance he suffered some head injury that day. Sam and long term commitment didn’t mix. Your entire relationship felt like borrowed time. His engagement proved it was the truth.

In hindsight, you should’ve trusted your gut about Sam’s “platonic” “childhood” “best” “friend.” 

They did everything together. Their families vacationed in Montauk every summer, they alternated who hosted which major holiday despite living next door, there isn’t a single milestone either achieved without the other. Every time you visited his parents house the plethora of photos of your boyfriend and his best friend from cradle to present day seemed to grow exponentially. 

She’s like my sister.

Most people would frown upon dating a sibling after breaking up with their long term girlfriend, who was sick at home with the flu during Christmas, via text but what do you know? You’re the one sitting on your couch in a tiny apartment you can barely afford wallowing in drunk sorrows while they’re out celebrating.

It’s addicting. Scrolling through all the comments on their engagement photos, with a blanket over your head like some fairytale witch. Sam’s friends you tried so hard to bond with flood the comments, gushing about how cute he and Carson are, how happy they are for them. 

Your friends text you how much of a jerk he is, a few call but you ignore them. All you want is to wallow in self pity.

Like the judgemental diva she is, Shinx watches from her tower in the corner, green eyes disdainful. She never liked Sam anyway.

It’d be better if Carson wasn’t objectively likable. Everyone liked her, you included. At least, until your boyfriend dumped you in a three sentence text and she posted a picture of them together on her Instagram not twenty four hours later with the caption “the best things take a while” – color coordinated for the Spencer family photo shoot in front of their lake house.

Assholes.

Even when she isn’t dolled up for pictures, you can’t even pretend she isn’t pretty. Carson looks like she belongs on a Hollywood set, even after running a 5k at the crack of dawn. Perfect messy ponytail, face rosie but not too red. It’s not fair, it’s not fair, it’s not fair. 

Shot number seven empties the bottle.

Through the living room wall your neighbor belts the lyrics to Celine Dione’s “All By Myself.”

It was ignorable the first few times he replayed it – a little poetic even given the circumstances – but it’s been nearly twenty minutes and you don’t need to be reminded how alone you are. You rocket off the couch and land against the wall with a thud.

“Keep,” knock. “It.” Knock. “Down.” Knock. Knock. KNOCK.

Mr. Neighbor, because you don’t know his name, sings louder.

In the months you’ve lived in this apartment you’ve met your neighbor exactly twice. When you first moved in only two weeks after your break up because Sam’s name was on the lease - not yours – and this was the only place you could find on such short notice in the middle of winter. You had the unfortunate privilege of riding the elevator with him in complete silence, only the sound of your pathetic cries as you moved soggy box after box. He was at least polite enough to take the stairs afterwards. And last month, during a building-wide fire drill because someone on the second floor fell asleep while making boiled eggs. Neither of you felt very chatty at four in the morning.

You couldn’t care less about splotchy cheeks or if your eyes were bloodshot. In your drunken righteousness, you don’t care that there’s mascara running down your face or the sweatshirt billowing around you has grease stains. Something snapped in you. Gritting your teeth, you rush out to the hall and straight for the neighboring door.

Your knuckles sting with each knock but he doesn’t answer until you escalate to pounding against the metal door like the police.

Mr. Neighbor must hear that because Celine cuts off mid-belt. Seconds later the door flies open.

He’s taller than you remember, your eyes level with a hole in the collar of his sweater. When you drag your gaze away from the dip of his throat the combination of tears and booze make deciphering his face incredibly difficult because he has four of them and they keep moving back and forth in blurry circles. His dark hair sticks up in a million directions. Like he put his finger in an electric socket and then tried to fix the mess himself.

Mr. Neighbor stares at you, expression unreadable. “Can I help you?”

“You know,” you start, teetering on drunk feet as you shove an indignant finger into his chest. “Some of us just want to come home from work and relax! Not listen to their neighbors screaming at the top of their lungs.”

“I didn’t realize it was that loud,” he hiccups. “I’ll turn it down.”

It’s hard to be angry when he looks like a mirror image of you. Wet, red-rimmed eyes and a sniffling nose. There’s booze in the air which could be yours but with the state he’s in it’s doubtful. Who listens to “All by Myself” ten times if they aren’t also sobbing alone in the dark? 

Guilt squeezes your chest. “Sorry, I’m just…rough day.”

Mr. Neighbor doesn’t say anything for a long time, appraising you silently. If you weren’t drunk off your rocker then the fact you aren’t wearing a bra and the old sweater you tossed on does nothing to hide that fact might be embarrassing. Or how you aren’t even wearing shoes, just fuzzy socks with a hole in the ankle. You also smell like a drunk elf who escaped the North Pole.

“It’s okay. Sorry about the music.”

Mouth moving before you know what comes out, you stop him from leaving just yet. “Why are you crying?”

“Stupid shit,” he says. “Why are you crying?”

You want to brush it off. You’re not looking for pity. Sam objectively sucked and your relationship would’ve ended one way or another. While most people preferred not to be humiliated via social media, it showed his true colors and firmly shut the door. But sometimes, it just feels good to cry all the frustration out and wish the worst on people who deserved it. And you really would prefer not to do either of those things with your neighbor you hardly know. 

Especially, when you realize he’s objectively hot even through the blur of tears and intoxication. But alcohol has a way of losing even the tightest lips.

“My ex got engaged.”

His eyes widened in shock before softening in pity. 

“Do you wanna come in?”

You don’t sense any ulterior motive. Mr. Neighbor has the vibe of someone who never met a stranger, one of those people you tell your life story to in the airport when your flights are delayed only to leave and realize the only thing you learned about him was he also hated airline food and thought flying first class on domestic flights was a waste of money.

Maybe whatever “stupid shit” he was crying over can be a distraction from your own baggage. If it can’t, at least the invite to complain to a person completely unexposed to the drama of your love life wasn’t half bad. 

But you don’t know him. His stupid shit could be infinitely worse and then you look like the asshole while he’s crying over his childhood pet passing away back at his parents house while he’s stuck in his apartment because flights during Thanksgiving were ungodly expensive.

Either way, another person to whine about the world with sounded nice.

You say yes, following him inside.

Mr. Neighbor’s apartment is similar to yours; mirrors the layout of your cramped one bedroom except with neutral colors and a lot more decor. The couch divides the living area from the kitchen. Comfy blankets and pillows littered around. Someone actually lives here, unlike your place where the most personalized thing is fridge magnets. You didn’t feel the need to decorate an apartment you didn’t see yourself staying in very long. Even if it’d been almost a year and the lease renewal sat on your countertop, signed and ready to drop off at the leasing office.

He walks into the kitchen, leaving you to stand awkwardly in the middle of the room while he fishes in the cabinet for something. You sink into one of the leather barstools and watch as he pours water from a pitcher in the sink and slides it across the counter.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You drink it all in one go while he waits, sobering up enough to realize how embarrassing this all is. You’re drunk, in your mysterious neighbor's kitchen, crying about your ex-boyfriend. But he was drunk, listening to one of the most depressing songs in history, crying about “stupid shit.” Mutually assured destruction. 

“We only broke up at Christmas last year.”

“And he’s already engaged?”

“To his best friend.”

At that, Mr. Neighbor procures another glass and pours a little bit of whiskey before presenting it to you. “That’s rough.”

This time, you don’t even wince when you swallow.

He stares, waiting for some sort of reply, tipping the bottle into his own cup but not drinking it just yet. Now that he only has one face instead of four, your face heats. Drunk, sad and a little horny because he has really nice hands, and an even better face.

You tug your phone out and push it across the counter as a distraction for you both. Not that he probably needs it, you’re a wreck. “Here look at this picture.”

Mr. Neighbor scrolls through each picture methodically. Zooming in on strangers he doesn’t even know. Mouthing the caption in silent horror. In effort not to stare at his fingers, you focus on everything else in his apartment. 

His fridge is covered in magnets and take out menus, but mixed into the collage are pictures. Photobooth strips in black and white, some large normal photos better suited for a frame. You’re too far away to decipher any of it but curiosity itches you to get a closer look. Postcards from different places, sport theme magnets. Baseball seems to be his favorite.

“He proposed to her at a Turkey Trot?” he says, like the idea is incredibly alien.

“Their families have done it since they were born. Like their moms ran it pregnant and pushed them in strollers until they could keep up.”

“That is….”

You laugh. “Insane.”

“I’m glad you said it,” he chuckles. “Who proposes after running a marathon?”

“I know!” you cry.

You tip the bottle of whiskey into your once again empty mug. There will be hell to pay in the morning but you need something to do to distract from the way your heart pinches at the sound of his laugh. The sad drunk stage is tapering into the horny drunk stage and you really don’t need to ask your nameless neighbor if he wants to make out on his couch. Although, it looks leagues comfier than the second hand lump sitting a wall over. Drinking any more will only make it worse but you need something to do with your hands that doesn’t involve touching him, or thinking about touching him.

He circles the counter and takes the barstool next to yours. Close enough you can feel the heat from his body, the smell of soap and citrus faintly tickling your nose. You want to dive into his shirt and breathe it in until you fall asleep. 

Mr. Neighbor is just a decently attractive man that has been overly generous with his time and not been a creep. That is the only reason why your brain is latching onto him right now; you know it. In a few hours, when your head hangs limp over the toilet bowl, you’ll regret this entire interaction and even more if you make it weird.

You balk, rushing away from the thought and looking for a distraction. “I’m not like…pining over him, if that's what you’re wondering. It just sucks seeing your ex who was staunchly against any long term commitment make it clear he was only against long term commitment with you.”

Mr. Neighbor seems to believe you. So many of your friends thought you harbored feelings for Sam this long after the break up but the truth is, you almost expected things to end. Not on Christmas with nothing but a text message, but it always felt like you and Sam had one foot out of the relationship. The end brought certainty and for that you almost felt relieved.

“If it’s any help, I don’t think it was a ‘you’ problem.”

For a second, you want to believe he actually believes that. He’s not just saying it because he’s being nice and letting you cry in his kitchen and drink his booze. Everything about Mr. Neighbor screams PERPETUALLY NICE. Like he saves kittens from trees and walks old ladies across the street in his spare time.

“You don’t even know me.”

“No, but he’s the one that kept you around while waiting for someone else. Sounds like an asshole to me,” he says.

“He is an asshole,” you whisper like a secret. Mr. Neighbor smiles back and you remember you don’t know his name.

He tells you without a shred of judgment.

“Seokmin.”

“I’m YN.”

“I know,” he blurts. His ears tinge pink just before his cheeks. “You had a friend come over one time, she yelled it pretty loud.”

Lydia only had two settings when talking: loud, and louder. Seokmin probably knew a lot more than just your name but was too polite to mention those sordid details.

“So, Seokmin. My drama aside, why were you crying? Or do you listen to depressing music to pregame a wild night out?”

Seokmin nods at your offer to top off his cup and chugs half of it with a wince.

“It feels kinda dumb now but I volunteer at the city theater downtown.”

That explains the framed playbills and theater tickets splashed across the living room walls. A story of all the productions he probably attended or participated in. You only recognized a few of the names. Perpetually Nice, indeed.

“Did one of them dump pig's blood on you while on stage?”

“No, nothing like that.” His mouth unzips into an amused grin. It looks much more fitting than the tears from earlier. “The director won a month-long European cruise and now I’m in charge of the winter production.”

What do people even do on a boat for that long?

“And I’m assuming you don’t want to be the director.”

“I did!” he groans. “But everyone is already emailing me and calling me, trying to bribe me into giving them bigger parts. Have you ever dealt with theater parents?”

Shaking your head, Seokmin grabs your hand with wide, terrified eyes. “They’re like dance moms on crack. I can’t handle it. Not to mention - surprise! - there’s no money for it and I have to do all the fundraising myself.”

Instead of responding, you fill each cup with another generous shot, clink glasses, and swallow them in tandem. The burn is long gone. Now, you feel like you're standing in the ocean, bobbing at the mercy of the waves as he keeps talking about the theater. How someone held him hostage after a meeting for an extra thirty minutes trying to convince him they didn’t need to audition. Someone else proposed an original production of Dracula as a break from the holiday slush every other theater planned. It glides right over your head, until he forces a glass of water into your grip.

“Sorry about my music,” he says.

“Sorry for being a bitch.”

“It’s okay. I get it.”

“Your ex also broke up with you for their childhood best friend?”

“No. The last one broke up with me for her dog walker.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah, well he’s bald now.” He shrugs and takes another swig. Water not whiskey by the lack of grimace. “She’s also trying to audition.”

At least you have the privilege of watching your ex’s new courtship through the filter of social media. Seokmin is watching it play out a few feet away from him with a constant reminder that his ex-girlfriend was onto seemingly better things with a man who picked up dog shit for a living. Small mercies.

“How long have you two…” you trail off.

“Three months.”

His tone makes it clear there is nothing else he wishes to share on the matter. You get it. Three months after Sam you weren’t ready to talk about it, still kept all the shared memories you two had together in one of the boxes shoved deep in the hall closet. It wasn’t until nearly eight months passed that you finally donated what you could of the gifts he bought you and threw the other half away. Now, you can laugh at the way you sobbed over the ugly monogrammed dish towels from your shared apartment. When his mom gifted them for your birthday, the first thought you had was to burn them. 

“So what’s your play?”

Seokmin looks grateful for the swift change in topic. “A Christmas Carol.”

“Never seen it.”

“What?” he gasps. “It’s a classic!”

Below the counter, his knee presses firmly against your thigh. Seokmin doesn’t notice or doesn’t care because it stays there. Warm and grounded and all too tempting but you don’t move away either. A trickle of embarrassment heats your body when you realize you’re wearing the pajama pants Lydia got you for Secret Santa last year. The ones with cartoon gingerbread people fucking in small print all over them. If Seokmin looked down he’d see them in flagrante.

It didn’t mean anything but it felt nice. No way he saw your frumpy clothes and puffy face, crying over your ex and thought I want a piece of that. Typically, drinking only had two paths. On a normal night, you’d go from pleasantly buzzed to “wooo girl drunk,” as Lydia put it, then horny drunk shortly before falling asleep. Tonight, crying drunk meant no woo-ing and definitely no inappropriate thoughts. But Seokmin is the first real man to stoke a tiny ember of interest in months. 

It’d be messy. Not the act itself. Maybe. You’re tipsy and he doesn’t look any better but a sloppy makeout wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. However, making out with your neighbor and then dealing with the fall out of such a clumsy entanglement probably wasn’t worth whatever his hands were capable of.

So you snuff it out.

You shrug. “Not really a big Christmas person.”

“I would invite you to come see it but at this rate I doubt we’ll even have a show to begin with.”

You discover that given the chance, Seokmin talks a lot. Shares his entire life story about moving to the city with a group of friends from college, most of them living with their partners. How he found the theater while on lunch break from his job that he didn’t hate but didn’t like. Started volunteering. Met Martha, now ex-girlfriend, there. 

He also asks question after question about you, and somehow it doesn’t feel like he’s prying even though he hardly shares about himself. Probably because you’ve reached sleepy drunk and your eyes drop shut, responding while half asleep. You tell him everything. It’s not like you can embarrass yourself any further. But Seokmin doesn't make you feel the slightest bit of shame.

How you met Sam at a friend’s wedding and Carson was his plus one. How Carson’s boyfriends never seemed to meet Sam’s standards. How she was a little too friendly towards you but Sam swore Carson liked everyone. And from your experience, everyone liked her. Then, last Christmas, you stayed at home with the flu while the annual Phan/Spencer celebration took place and woke up to a nice heartfelt text message.

“That’s so fucked up.”

“Yeah, well what’s even more fucked up is his mom posting a picture of her with Carson captioned ‘the daughter I always wanted.’” you huff. “That really sucked.”

Seokmin doesn’t say anything. Not that he can. How do you comfort a stranger about a shitty relationship with even more beneath the surface? 

Instead, you both sit in comfortable silence, locked in separate trains of thought. It isn’t until he messes with his phone and Celine Dion materializes into the room once again that you realize how weird it is to be sitting there, sharing woes with a complete stranger.

“Well, I’m just gonna…” you start, sliding off the bar stool.

“Yeah…”

You don’t look back, making a beeline for the door. “Have a goodnight! I hope you aren’t eaten by steroid fueled theater nerds.”

You’re in the hallway, lock latched firmly behind, before he can respond.

You don’t see Seokmin for another week. Not like you saw him much before but now you have a name to the face, along with hobbies and a personality. And his hands. Which don’t seem to leave your memory despite the desperate effort you put into doing so.

Even if you don’t see him though, you hear him on the other side of your living room wall shuffling around when you get home from work. 

He keeps his sad playlist to a minimum, and his singing about the same, flat rumbles through the shared wall you can easily ignore. Sometimes you don’t. Occasionally, you’ll pause whatever Netflix dating show poisoning your brain and listen, eyes closed as your mind wanders.

You hear him humming as he passes your door on the way out to work in the morning while you sip coffee and answer emails from your kitchen counter. Sometimes it's showtunes you don’t recognize, others it's Christmas carols. Seokmin has a lovely voice you realize, now free from irritation. It’s weird you never noticed before.

Apparently, Lydia noticed him long before you did.

You finish telling her about the entire debacle with Sam and Carson. Lydia doesn’t believe in social media of any kind so all of her life updates come over Bananagrams and face masks during your semi-weekly Thursday girl’s night at her apartment.

“You just hang out with your hot neighbor drunk and don’t make a move?” she tsks.

“How do you know my neighbor is hot?”

“Unlike you, I pay attention to my surroundings.” 

Part of the reason she deleted all her social media was because she wanted to be more ‘in the moment.’ This proves that maybe it actually worked. 

Grabbing more letter tiles, you brush off the taunt. “Well, unlike you, I can keep it in my pants.”

“How long has it been since you let someone under the hood?”

“Not that long,” you grumble.

“Really?” Lydia rolls her eyes at the next word you spell, S-A-D. 

“Shut up. It was the only one I could find.” You take another sip of hot cider. The hangover from last week's bender still haunts you. “Horny isn’t spelled with an ‘I’ or an ‘E’.”

“It’s been so long I thought you’d forget how it's spelled.”

A few hours and a couple of episodes of Temptation Island later, you're back home. The chilly air creeps into the mailroom, numb fingers struggling to unlock your mailbox. Bill. bill, catalogue, not yours, bill…

As the elevator carries you up to your floor, you find the last letter. A gold wax seal, velvety envelope. No. No, no, no, no, no.

But it is real and it’s exactly what you’re afraid for it to be when you rip it open right there in the hallway. The picture of Carson and Sam staring deep into each other’s eyes, love-soaked down to the finest details. His hand on her knee, both oblivious to the camera and not in the faux staged way of so many wedding announcements. 

Michael and Dena Spencer along with 

Jason and Zoya Phan 

Invite you to celebrate the marriage of their children,

Samuel Spencer and Carson Phan

You fling the card away like a venomous snake. 

What the hell is wrong with them? Is it not enough you were the collateral damage in their whirlwind romance? Now they go and rub it in your face how happy they are together. You were the last obstacle to make them realize they couldn’t live without each other, the catalyst for their happiness. And now you have a tangible reminder of the fact.

Thankfully, the hallway is empty so no one witnesses your mental breakdown. A silent stand off with a glossy wedding announcement. You’re tempted to leave it there, let Sam and Carson get trodded on until they’re nothing but limp confetti. 

But you can’t. You snatch the announcement from the floor and bolt to your door, key scraping the lock again and again. You just need to get inside. Get inside and then you can go DEFCON 1, shred the entire letter and do something else rash like give yourself bangs you’ll regret in the morning.

The key still won’t find home in the lock and you’re on the verge of giving up when you realize Seokmin is singing along to some record just a few feet away.

You don’t know him well enough to go banging on his door. One drunken bitch session did not a friend make. Even if the drunk bitch session involved recounting life stories and embarrassing childhood moments. Or pajamas with gingerbread people fucking which he definitely noticed.

But you can’t be left alone with this bomb.

Seokmin is standing before you barely a second after knocking, eyebrows scrunched together. You shove the invite into his chest and wait.

“How does he have your address?” he asks.

You shrug. “I made him mail most of my stuff.”

“Why?” Seokmin turns back into his apartment, the door open in invitation as he falls onto the couch.

“Because he cheated on me. The least I could get was him paying three hundred bucks in shipping.”

“You are a very scary woman.”

You follow. This time, you notice more details. His record player is tucked in the corner, crates of vinyl stacked next to it. The candle burning on the coffee table fills the room with the scent of teak and orange. You recognize it as the same one Lydia got you for your birthday; ‘the boyfriend scent’ as she called it. Of course, he’d have it.

“Thank you.”

Now that you’re here, you’re not sure what to do. Seokmin keeps looking at the invite like some puzzle. Like some underlying explanation is written in invisible ink. There isn’t one. The reason for the invite is clear: your feelings don’t matter and they never did. 

“I can’t believe they sent you a wedding invite. That’s so fucked up.”

“I’m probably gonna see all the pictures on Instagram soon anyway. At least, this ripped the band aid off. It just sucks they get to rub it in my face.”

“You still follow them, do they follow you?”

They do. Carson and Sam both follow you but you haven’t posted a single picture since the break up so it’s not like they’re reminded of your presence. Not the same way they remind you. There hasn’t been much worth posting either. You go to work, come home, shower, sleep, repeat. The occasional weekend at the farmers market or trip to the bookstore breaks up the monotony don’t inspire you to post. 

“Why?” you ask.

“You want something to rub in their faces.”

“And what exactly would that be?”

“Is there anything he hated doing while you guys dated?”

You laugh at the irony of the one thing Sam hated more than anything else. “He hated being posted on social media.”

“I have an idea.”

“Does it involve more Celine Dion and whiskey?”

“No,” he smiles. “It’s called a ‘soft launch'. One of the high schoolers explained it to me today.”

“Why are you talking to highschoolers about relationships? Actually, nevermind.” You snatch the invite away from his hands and flip it face down onto the couch. “And what is the point of me soft launching a nonexistent relationship?”

“He sent you a wedding invitation.”

“Okay?”

“So he’s either insane or isn’t completely over you. This is a way to show him you don’t care.”

“He broke up with me on Christmas while I was dying of the stomach flu. I don’t think he cares.”

Seokmin rises from the couch and heads towards the kitchen. “Do you want some wine?”

“Just water.”

He’s wearing the same costume as last week, sweatpants and a sweater. But his hair is a little wet and falls over his glasses. The look, the boyfriend candle, everything Lydia suggested… You should go home before making an idiot of yourself.

Seokmin returns with two glasses, places them both on the coffee table before tossing you a blanket. How can you leave now? It’d be rude. Besides, you want to find out where his offer is going.

“As I was saying: soft launch.”

“I still don’t understand where this is going.”

“You post it on your story, he sees, feels like a huge idiot, and then—”

“And then what? I don’t want him back.” But the thought of making Sam squirm is a validating one. Let him see you the way he’s forced you to see him. Happily moved on with someone else. Even if it isn’t real. “Fuck it. Let’s do it.”

It’s an easy photo. In theory. Nothing too suggestive, nothing that shows his face. But should you be touching? How much touching is appropriate for a man you’ve talked to twice? Seokmin doesn’t seem to know either. He searches the internet for inspo, some far too intimate for you to dream of. Sitting on his lap? Absolutely not. Having him hold you around the waist? No way. None of it would be believable.

“Okay, what about this one?” he asks after twenty minutes of scrolling.

On the surface, it’s nothing bad. The picture is relatively innocent with Person A’s legs draped over Person B’s lap, hand placed on Person A’s shin. Nothing crazy. At this point, you just want it over with.

“Fine.”

You wore semi-decent sweatpants this time so you don’t worry about that. It’s the entire premise of touching Seokmin so casually and having him touch you in return. But you take it in stride as you both maneuver and twist until you're a perfect copy of the already existing image.

Opening the camera on your phone, you snap a pic and hand it to Seokmin for approval.

“Eh…”

“‘Eh’? What does ‘eh’ mean?”

Apparently, ‘eh’ means Seokmin is wrapping his entire hand around your knee, the other hand on your ankle, and pulling you closer until your butt rests flush against the outside of his thigh. And then he doesn’t move either hand while waiting for you to snap a new picture. It feels like a thousand  pounds.

When you’re done, he leans over to assess the photo and you’re stuck with the image of him hovering over you. The picture goes up on your story, embellished with a heart emoji and Seokmin leaves your space but only barely.

“Should I RSVP too?” you joke. It’s weak, your voice thin because you don’t know if he can tell your sweating. 

He leaves even more space between you at that, scratching the back of his neck. “Ugh—”

“I wouldn’t actually go but I like the idea of them wasting money.”

“You know what? Do it. Did they give you a plus one?”

You jolt at the idea of Seokmin filling in the role. Focus. 

Their wedding site is filled with Pinterest inspiration level engagement photos. You ignore the fact it’s at the park Sam took you to for your first date. You don’t own Emerald Park, or the fountain in the background of their pictures where you and Sam first kissed, and you certainly didn’t own the botanical gardens frozen around them as they walked hand in hand. Hundreds of other couples, you and Sam included, visited Emerald Park all the time. It just feels tacky they would do a full photoshoot where half a dozen of your relationship landmarks lay. But Carson probably owned those spots well before you came into the picture.

Once you hit ‘Yes’ on the RVSP, including your fake plus one, things peter out into awkward silence. You’re still draped over Seokmin’s lap, his hands absentmindedly running up your shin, smoothing the wrinkles in your pants.

Who gets turned on from having their shin fondled?

“How is your play going?” you ask.

“Not horrible.”

“But?”

“Our sets are old, we don’t have costumes and we open in three weeks.” 

Seokmin seems to be in the acceptance stage of his grief. At least he isn’t wailing any more Now That’s What I Call Depressing music.

“So it’s not too late for that space idea then?”

He cracks up at that and you feel glowy from the sound of his laugh, the way his chest shakes. He squeezes your ankle. You preen. He still has his hand on your knee, thumb burning uneven circles through the thick fabric.

“I don’t know if anyone wants to see Scrooge in a space suit.”

“Who?”

Seokmin takes the question as a personal affront and decides you can’t leave his apartment without watching at least one version of A Christmas Carol. 

You try not to read into things but there aren’t many explanations available. The TV plays the animated version with Jim Carry starring in almost every role which is apparently second only to the muppets version.. Seokmin popped popcorn. And when he came back to the couch, he pulled your legs back over his lap like it was normal. You’re rusty on dating but the amount of times your hand brushes his in the popcorn bowl is starting to border on ridiculous.

Instead of focusing on how this feels a lot like a date, you focus on the movie. Or try to. It helps that Seokmin remains unaware of your inner turmoil, he’s too busy gauging whether you hate or love the movie and looking for your reaction every time one of the ghosts appears. 

The angle isn’t conducive to watching the movie either. You can’t turn without straining your neck, unless you pull away from his hold which you don’t want to do at all. And Seokmin is so focused on your reactions that he isn’t catching much of the film either.

He clearly loves it, and wants you to love it too. So you act extra interested but it’s not difficult because clearly he sees something spectacular happening on screen and it makes you eager to see it too. Even if only to distract from his thumb slipping beneath your sock and circling the knob of your ankle.

The movie fades to black, Scrooge is redeemed and your neighbor is watching you with bated breath.

“So…”

You smile at his eagerness. “It was good.”

“Isn’t it? It’s a classic.”

Something about his sheer enthusiasm tugs at your heart strings. 

“I’ll help you.”

Everything in your body screeches WHAT ARE YOU DOING?

Seokmin must think the same thing, face slack in disbelief. Too late, you’ve already committed. 

“My company is always throwing money at stuff during the holidays,” you rush, face heating. “Maybe they could sponsor you guys to help with the sets or something.”

He keeps staring and you keep talking because you’re not sure if this crosses some invisible line. Unlike the touching, or the picture, or the ugly crying last week. Slowly, amazement rooted on his face.  Even in your rumpled clothes, he looks at you like you’ve dropped nothing short of a miracle in his lap.

In a flurry of motion, Seokmin drags you into a hug, arms tight around your back, crushing you into his chest. The baggy sweaters you’d seen him in all of once hid firm ridges of muscle. You try not to indulge but your hands are wedged tightly between your bodies, and you’re practically sitting in his lap at this point. 

And as fast as it happened, he lets you go and nearly flings himself off the opposite end of the couch. 

“Sorry! I just—” His head cocked to the side. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to feel obligated—”

“I love taking money from people who don’t need it. It’s one of the few joys in my life actually,” you say. “And if they don’t sign a check, we can always try armed robbery. Do you own a ski mask?”

He pretends to think before smiling. “Funnily enough, I don’t. But something tells me you do.”

“A woman never reveals her secrets.”

The next few days pass uneventfully. You hear Seokmin come home later and later, pointedly aware that you’re aware of his coming and going. Occasionally, when it’s still early, he knocks an odd rhythm on the wall separating your living rooms and you learn it's a summons. He wants to watch a movie, or share dinner because he made too much, or hear something about your day that didn’t involve a six year old attempting an accent for their character and sounding like Dick Van Dyke in Mary Poppins. 

Even when you give him your number, he still knocks. Everytime you fight the urge to squeal like you’re back in high school.

The show is going as well as it can. People have their parts (with minimal complaining). Most of the costumes are free of mold (he sent you pictures wearing half the wardrobe). And Seokmin is maintaining his sanity. Barely.

In the rush of it all, you made a promise not to fuck where you eat. One messy break up requiring a move was enough for a lifetime. While Lydia took every update as another sign he was into you, the risk was too much. What if you misread everything? What if Seokmin wasn’t completely over his ex-girlfriend? She hadn’t come up again since that first night but that didn’t mean anything. At that stage of your break-up you hardly talked about Sam. Maybe Seokmin was still pining for her and you were just there. Or vice versa. He could see you were having a difficult time with the engagement and offered a shoulder to cry on.

Even worse, what if you did sleep with him and it was bad. So bad you could never look him in the eye again. Or he could have a weird dick. Or cry after sex. What if he secretly had a piss kink and that was the real reason Marta broke up with him? The lack of red flags only point to some flaw below the surface you hadn’t learned about yet.

Lydia thought it was ridiculous.

“I will bet my first edition Hobbit that his dick is completely normal,” she huffs through the speaker, the sound of her stationary bike echoing in the background.

Your Friday nights are usually spent curled up on the couch with wine and a movie but you couldn’t wait to give Seokmin the envelope containing a metaphorical golden ticket. The downtown streets are crowded near the theater where the entire cast and crew are spending the evening polishing up the existing set pieces but you brave it, if only to see the look on his face at the number of zeroes on the check.

“You just want me to sleep with him.”

“Is it so wrong I want my best friend to sleep with a nice, attractive man? Do you know how rare those are in this city?”

Your eyes roll. “He is my neighbor.”

“Your hot neighbor. Who has a normal dick and listens to Celine Dion when he’s sad.”

Something stopped you from telling her about the picture, and how Seokmin stayed cuddled up to you the rest of the night. Probably because you know she’d add it to the mounting pile of reasons to ruin whatever tentative friendship built between you. 

You find a parking spot and bid Lydia goodbye.

The building lobby, with sleek marble archways and a dusty chandelier the size of your living room, is empty sans a lone security guard scrolling on his phone. He doesn’t try to stop you as you stroll right past and into the auditorium. You don’t want to be a creep that watches from the dark but the sight of your neighbor stops you in your tracks. To hear about his work was one thing, however, seeing him in his element is another. 

He’s got paint all over his shirt and jeans and his hair is a mess from running his hands through it but he addresses the entire cast with confidence. Answers their questions, points the crew in the right direction, scans his binder next to someone with a headset who must be important. 

Everyone is caught up in their work so they don’t notice as you approach from the aisles, footsteps muffled by the carpeted floors. You’ve never been here before but the history of the building isn’t lost on you. The walls and ceiling stretch high above, intricate moldings weaving up to frame large murals of greek-style motifs. The cushioned seats had seen better days. Red velvet crushed flat, ripped seams and stained with time. But it has a charm to it.

It was easy to imagine Seokmin finding home in this place. Losing himself on stage, spending hours and hours hidden away with a script.

He finally notices your presence when you approach one of the side stage staircases.

“And what do I owe the honor?” he asks, lips unzipping into a grin you can’t help but return.

You wave the white envelope in response, bowing comically low. “I come bearing a gift.”

“Is that—“

You nod solemnly, forcing it into his hands. “Open it!”

Seokmin stares at the envelope the same way he stared at you the night you offered to help him out. A small miracle in the palm of his hand. Your boss signed the check without question. It was a good look to sponsor local events, great publicity and a tax write off. The second you mentioned there were children in the cast and it was volunteer only he doubled the donation.

Seokmin opens the envelope, pausing to read. His eyes bulge. “Two grand? Are you serious?”

“Yep. All it took was the promise of two pages in the back of the program. So if you could get that message passed along.”

He hasn’t looked away from the check as a flush rises up his neck. “I’ll get their logo tattooed on my forehead if they want.”

“Tried that…” you joke. “They went up to two thousand with the promise you wouldn’t..”

“This is…” 

You’re swept into a hug tight enough to pop something in your back. Too tight, with your arms wedged between your chests like the first time but you don’t mind. Seokmin is warm

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he chants, spinning you around.

You soak in the contact for as long as you can. Seokmin gives great hugs, better than great. You didn’t realize you craved the firm comfort of his arms until you had it once again and now that you do, you don’t want him to stop.

You notice someone watching over Seokmin’s shoulder. She’s pretty. Dark curly hair, button nose, big doll eyes boiling with indignation. 

“Is that her?” you whisper into his neck.

“Her who?”

“Mrs. Bald dog walker.”

Seokmin loosens his grip just enough to look.  “Yeah. Why?”

You bury your face back into the crook of his and give him a squeeze. Seokmin returns it instinctively, arms slug across the small of your waist like a puzzle piece. 

“Marta isn’t the jealous type,” he whispers.

“Huh, that’s weird.” Your lips purse. “Because she just stormed off.”

Seokmin whips around to look at the now vacant spot where his ex-girlfriend once stood.

“Consider it as my thank you for the soft launch.”

“Did that actually work?” he asks.

You can’t admit you forgot to check if either Carson or Sam looked at your post. Coincidentally enough, you were too wrapped up in thoughts of the man before you to remember the entire reason he touched you so casually that night was for petty revenge and not because he actually wanted to.

“Who cares?” you bluff. “Anyway, I was thinking of another fundraiser. Maybe it can give you guys some money for some updated set pieces.”

They could definitely use it. One of the stagehands staples fabric across a hole in the couch so wide you’d bet money the next person who sits on it would sink straight through to the ground, another slathers a thick layer of white paint on a dry rotted board. What good are new costumes without good props?

“If you keep helping us out, they’re gonna have to change the name of the building.” Seokmin smiles down at you. His hand is still at the small of your back but even through the many layers protecting you from the chill you can feel the heat of his touch.

“I’ve always wanted a theater named after me. Like a Rockefeller or something.”

“So what is this idea?”

You gaze at him expectantly. “How many of your friends are single?”

It took little convincing for your plan. Seokmin turns out to be a bartender and his boss agrees to host it (pending a small cut of the proceeds), and several of his friends volunteer to help a good cause.

You’ve never been to this bar either but it somehow fits him too. Not a complete dive but cozy and well weathered. Multicolored string lights hang from the rafters so thick you can’t even see the ceiling, and posters, neon signs, and other decor obscure the walls. A low platform in one corner clearly meant for live entertainment becomes the auctioneer block with a banner strewn above reading THEATER FUNDRAISER in painted bubble letters.

Most of the people in the crowd are involved in the theater one way or another. Volunteers, cast and crew, a few parents coming for the drink specials and a show. A few outsiders mix in with the batch; regulars, people who saw the chalkboard sign on the street and got curious. Seokmin’s friends linger around the pool table in the corner, nervously shuffling around.

You’re on your way over to finalize the order when Seokmin and Lydia intercept you. 

“Small problem,” he says.

“What?” 

Lydia sighs. “Mingyu has a girlfriend.”

“Since when?” you ask.

“Apparently fifteen minutes ago.”

“Oh,” you say. “Good for him.”

“Except we’re a man down.”

“I’ll do it,” Seokmin interjects.

Your gut curls. The idea of someone, not you, going on a date with him leaves a sour note in your mouth. But you’re not in a position to say anything. 

But it doesn’t stop you.

“You can’t!” you blurt.

“Why not?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed.

Lydia looks down right maniacal at your outburst. No way are you going to admit whatever feelings you have for Seokmin right now. 

“Who is gonna be the host if you’re busy?”

“I’ll do it,” Lydia says. There’s a dare in her gaze. She can smell bullshit a mile away. “Unless there’s some other reason Seokmin needs to host.”

She bats her eyelashes with all the innocence of the devil.

“Fine,” you nod.

Lydia snags the mic from Seokmin and bolts for the stage. “Alright, settle in! Tonight we’re raising money for a good cause. So let’s get this show on the road, and remember—no refunds, no takesies backsies, and no funny business! We take Venmo or cash. No checks! Now, first up, we have Seungcheol!”

Seungcheol steps up to the stage, body lax as the crowd eyes him up and down. He was the first person to volunteer when you explained your idea – spawned from many sorority fundraisers in college – to Seokmin. The others followed suit shortly after, giving you six men in total willing to go on a date (no funny business) in the name of supporting the arts.

“Twenty dollars!” a woman in a dark jacket calls.

“At least let me tell you about him before going at him like a piece of meat!” Lydia jokes.

Someone else interjects. “Forty dollars!”

Lydia ignores her. “He enjoys camping, sports, and long walks on the beach,” she reads off the notecard. “And he can fix your car courtesy of Choi Mechanics.”

“Seventy five.”

People keep increasing their bids, Seungcheol clearly enjoying the attention as he jokes and winks towards the more eager ones. He’s preening while you and Seokmin watch in giddy amusement by the pool table, faces hidden in your drinks.

“Two hundred dollars!” someone near the back calls.

“Two fifty!”

“That’s Seungcheol’s girlfriend,” Seokmin whispers from your side.

You try to get a better look but Seungcheol’s girlfriend remains hidden at a table behind several others. 

“Then why is he doing this?”

Seungkwan comes up beside you. “Because they’re exhibitionists.”

“Sold!” Seungcheol yells.

“I’m the one with the gavel,” Lydia objects. She pounds the gavel to emphasize her power. “Sold for two hundred and fifty dollars!”

Seungcheol drops a wad of cash from his own wallet into the bucket at the front of the stage and disappears into the corner of the room where his girlfriend waits. You make a mental note to avoid that side of the bar for the rest of the night, just in case.

The other guys go easy, thriving on the momentum of Seungcheol. Soonyoung gets a date with a woman old enough to be your mother but he looks positively thrilled. Even Mingyu stops by to drop a couple bucks into your hand as an apology. Then it’s Seokmin’s turn.

“He can cook, he’s good with kids, and he makes a mean mojito,” Lydia announces. “Give it up for our favorite bartender, Seokmin!”

The crowd has mellowed out but remains enthusiastic, regulars and theater people alike clapping as he comes forward. Even his boss behind the bar rings a large bell mounted on the wall reserved for good tippers. Someone wolf whistles and Seokmin goes red.

“Let’s start the bidding at thirty bucks,” Lydia says.

“Fifty!” someone calls.

By some feat of the universe, Seokmin transforms into a maroon faced mess.

You look around the bar and spot her at a table close to the edge of the stage. That ugly gut punch from earlier rears its head again at the gleam in her eyes, like she can’t wait to sink her teeth into Seokmin the first chance she gets. You don’t want Seokmin going on a date with her. You don’t want him going on a date with anyone.

Your mouth is open before you realize. “A hundred.”

Seokmin, Lydia, and just about everyone else in the bar whip their head in your direction. You refuse to look at any of them, staring down your competition as she raises her hand to counter.

“One fifty.”

“Two hundred.”

“Three fifty,” she says, smirking at you.

Lydia levels you with expectant looks. Seokmin watches you like you’re a wild animal, unsure of your next move. You’re in too deep now. 

“Four hundred dollars.”

Your competition opens her mouth to rebut; however, Lydia is already swinging the gavel, “Sold! To the beautiful woman in the ugly sweater. Come get your man!”

Seokmin catches your arm before you can open your purse. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“It’s for a good cause. Besides, think of it as a thank you for saving me from spending all my money on take out.”

He stares at you for a second too long, frozen in his own disbelief. You’re lying and you both know it but to admit that him going on a date with someone else, even for a good cause, made you jealous ventures over a line you’re not ready to cross just yet.

“Alright, that was our last man of the night,” Lydia announces into the mic. “Which means we’ve raised a whopping two thousand six hundred dollars for our local theater.”

Everyone cheers once again. The atmosphere is light but the bubble surrounding you and Seokmin is anything but. 

He raises an eyebrow skeptically as you shove bills into the collection bucket, pointedly looking anywhere but him lest your face match the red of his own. It doesn’t matter though. You can feel the heat on your cheeks, the sweat at your hairline. Four hundred dollars to go out with a guy. 

At least it’s for a good cause.

Seungkwan saves you from whatever questions Seokmin has, pushing his friend back to work behind the bar before cornering you into conversation.

“You,” Seungkwan says.

“Me?”

“Yes, you. I’m having a pre-game at my house tomorrow night. You’re invited.”

“Oh,” you blink. “I’m not really a partier.”

“It’ll be a small thing. Most of the guys here and my roommate. We’re going to Jane’s after.”

“I’ve never been there before.”

Seungkwan stomps indignantly. “You’ve never been to Jane’s? Jane’s is a neighborhood institution.”

“I guess I never got around to exploring much,” you shrug.

“Why not?”

A creature of habit such as yourself, you rarely went to new places. You liked the places you already knew, the ones you didn’t have to guess if you liked. Besides, you hadn’t felt like going out much in the past few months, something always coming up including reasons, such as: you liked your apartment with cheaper drinks, less cigarette smoke, and no strange men trying to mansplain American Psycho.

Lydia appears at your side, new drink in hand. “Did someone say party?”

“It starts at eight thirty, but don’t come until nine. Seok will give you the address.”

Seungkwan disappears into the crowd, leaving you and Lydia hovering at the edge of the stage all alone. If there was one person besides Seokmin you didn’t want to be left alone with, it was her. But it’s too late to escape.

In the face of total mortification, you try to put on a brave face.

“Four hundred? Really?” Lydia asks.

“Shut up,” you mumble into the cup of melted ice.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

“I’ve met your friends before,” you snort.

Seokmin rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, but they can be a lot and that’s coming from me.”

You refused to let the car ride on the way over be awkward, plowing through whatever cobwebs lingered between you two. Luckily, Seokmin went along, recalling horror stories from Seungkwan’s yearly holiday pre-game. There was the year Soonyoung attempted making hot cider and gave everyone food poisoning. The year after where Mingyu ended up breaking the bathroom doorknob resulting in the fire department coming out to free him because he got stuck trying to crawl out the window above the shower. And most recently, Jeonghan – who you haven’t met yet – hid under the couch for the sole purpose of grabbing people’s ankles as they walked by; except he fell asleep and Seungkwan found him the next morning while cleaning.

Nothing you couldn’t handle.

“Well, if it's too much I’ll send you some code to leave.”

“What should I be looking for exactly?” he asks, lips quirked.

“I’ll start making ghost noises.”

Seokmin snorts when you start demonstrating. “But that happens so frequently. How about morse code?”

“How about I scream at the top of my lungs?” you grin.

“Works for me.”

Seokmin knocks against the dark wood door leading to Seungkwan’s apartment.

“COME IN!” Seungkwan belts, flinging the door open wide. “For me?”

You hand over the bottle of wine with flourish. Heaven forbid you show up anywhere empty handed, a habit hammered in by your mother. “For you.”

Seungkwan pulls you inside. “I like you more and more. Come on, everyone else is already here.”

The doorway leads straight into the crowded living room. You recognize Seungcheol, a woman his same height tucked into his side as they chat with Lydia on the couch. Coincidentally, she lives two floors above Seungkwan and Vernon and was thrilled to discover mailroom guy had a name and good taste in music.

You quickly scan beneath the couch for any full grown men and are mildly disappointed to find none.

Seokmin gets caught up in ‘hellos’ while you pad down the hallway after Seungkwan; into the kitchen where Mingyu stirs something on the stove.  Cocoa and vanilla flood your nose, the warmth of the kitchen driving away the lingering chill from outside. Seungkwan puts the wine on the counter before pulling mugs out of the cabinets. 

“What’s this?” you ask.

“Spiked hot chocolate,” Mingyu says. He adds a splash of peppermint schnapps to the pot and starts stirring again before pouring two mugs: one for you and one for Seokmin. “There’s whipped cream over there.”

You’re shaking the can of whipped cream when an arm reaches over your shoulder and pulls it out of your grip.

“Just say when,” Seokmin says.

He piles a comical mountain of whipped cream into your mug, and then a matching one on his own. There are sprinkles as well as chocolate shavings and you both artfully decorate your drinks with handfuls of each.

“I think we have more whipped cream than hot chocolate,” you say.

“There’s no such thing as too much whipped cream.” 

You both take a long sip and when he’s done you choke. He’s got whipped cream on his nose, his lips, and his cheeks. 

“What?” Seokmin asks.

“You’ve got,” you laugh. “Let me help.”

He stands perfectly still as you wipe his face with a paper towel. You’ve been this close to Seokmin before but with amusement instead of nerves clouding your system, you notice details you hadn’t before. The mole of his cheek. Two. One a little more pronounced than the other. Cute.

“Alright, all done,” you announce, finally noticing the way he stares down at you softly. So much for not having any nerves. “C’mon, I wanna see if Jeonghan is hiding under the couch before we leave.”

You lead him out of the kitchen, looking for anyway to cut the tension—

“KISS!” Lydia demands. 

You scan the room for who she’s screaming at in an apartment full of strangers only to find her finger pointed straight above your head.

Mistletoe.

Mingyu barrels out of the kitchen to join in on the chaos.

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” they all chant. Soonyoung cups his hands around his mouth and belts it loud enough your heart lurches. 

“We don’t have to,” Seokmin whispers, cheeks and ears bright red.

“It’s fine.”

You plan for a quick peck on the cheek but Seokmin goes for his left while you go for your left and you’re not kissing but something dangerously close to it. The sticky residue of sugar and chocolate registers against your lips, a little bit of stubble missed when he shaved this morning. Barely a second of contact, just the edge of his mouth against yours but the world spins backwards and you nearly fall over. 

As fast as it happens, you both draw back, staunchly avoiding eye contact but staying pressed close.

Seokmin wraps an arm around your waist, steadying you against his check. “You okay?”

His breath skims over your lips. The temptation to roll on to your toes and kiss him for real sends your heart racing. Your chin lifts. Seokmin looks at your mouth. And…

“Who's ready to party?” Chan calls, breaking the atmosphere. 

The walk to Jane’s is nothing short of hell. Snow falls in thin sheets, frigid air sneaking past the lining of your coat and straight into your bones. In the middle of the pack you aren’t as exposed thanks to Seokmin to your right, Lydia on the other side, and a gaggle of the others walking in front. 

Your hand keeps accidentally brushing Seokmin’s, sending a rush of pins and needles up your arm each time. You both pretend to ignore it.

The barren street outside the bar doesn’t hint at what waits within except for the dull hum of life sneaking past the door. It feels like half the city is packed inside, forcing everyone to slither past each other because there is simply no room. 

Seungkwan wasn’t lying when he said it was a neighborhood institution. A stage is set up at the far wall, drunks belting their hearts out. Your group fans out to the bar, snagging drinks before taking the pilgrimage to a small table near the stage. Seokmin keeps you close the entire time. Guiding you to a seat, insisting on standing right behind the chair and talking to his friends over your shoulder.

You sag in your seat, content to soak in everyone else's conversations. The edge of your mouth still burns from the contact of the kiss, the same sensation everywhere Seokmin touches. You crave more. Like a sunflower searching for the sun. You lean against the back of the chair for a chance to feel his chest against your back. He doesn’t shy away when you do either. You can’t see his face but Lydia sits across the table watching with a pleased smirk. 

“A toast,” Seokmin starts as the song fades and the next group to the stage. Someone wrangled a tray of red and green shots to the table and Seungkwan passes them around. “To Y/N. We wouldn’t have a show without her.”

“Yes, you would,” you correct.

“But we wouldn’t have new costumes,” says Seungkwan. “Do you know how old the costumes we were gonna wear are?”

“And we have new sets. We haven’t bought a new set piece in like fifty years,” Chan interjects. 

Soonyoung speaks up next. “And I got a date!”

Seokmin slings an arm over your shoulder, squeezing you into his side. “You’re a miracle worker.”

Cheeks hot, you hide your smile at the bottom of the shot glass.

Focus shifts as Soonyoung, Seokmin, and Seungkwan take the stage for “No Scrubs” the entire bar signs along to. They’re born performers. Soaking in every minute of attention, riling the crowd up until your ears go numb.

You try not to think of the almost kiss but it’s hopeless. Two drinks down and the only thing on your mind is the eclectic feeling on his mouth on your skin. 

You’re so deep in your thoughts, you don’t notice Seokmin has come back to the table with a new drink for you until he’s nudging your shoulder with his.

“How do you like it?”

“Way better than the depression playlist,” you joke.

“Celine Dion is a classic.”

“Yeah, but after the first five times she loses her edge.”

Seokmin shakes his head in mock disappointment. “Blasphemy.”

Vernon and Seungkwan are singing Crazy in Love. Or, Seungkwan is singing and Vernon is head banging to the beat. Just watching makes your neck hurt.

Someone bumps into you from behind, sending you reeling straight into Seokmin’s chest.

“Woah, you okay?”

You nod into his chest but don’t let go. 

The shots earlier were a mistake. Seokmin looks good under the neon lights of the bar, better with the swirly haze of alcohol. You want to kiss him so bad it’s embarrassing.

“Wanna get out of here?” he asks, voice husky.

When you look up at him, something dances across his face. There and gone before you can figure out what it is. Home sounds like a great idea. Better to lock yourself in your apartment where your mind can run wild before you do something stupid – like drag Seokmin into a corner to make out – in front of all your new friends.

You step out of his grip. “I can get home on my own. You don’t have to come with me.”

“I’m good to go. Promise.”

Not willing to brave a thirty minute walk home in the snow, Seokmin orders an Uber while you say goodbye.

Once outside, Seokmin wraps his arm back around you. Away from prying eyes, you let yourself indulge with the excuse of sharing body heat. Friends share body heat all the time. There is nothing wrong with a platonic penguin huddle.

Too soon, he pulls away as a car pulls up to the curb. “This is us.”

Seokmin makes conversation with the driver while you stare out the window as the city whips by. He’s just being nice, treating you the same way he would all his friends. Touching and almost kissing aside, Seokmin is your friend and you don’t want to jeopardize it with complications.

“YN?”

“Huh?’

“We’re home.”

You stumble through the cold, Seokmin hot on your heels through the lobby and into the elevator. It’s a fragile type of silence between you. 

“I’ll see you later?”

“Night,” Seokmin says.

“Goodnight, Seok,” you murmur back, pushing open your door.

“Fuck,” he curses. “I left my keys at Kwan’s.”

“Should we call them?”

You invite Seokmin into your apartment while he tries to get ahold of his friends. Shinx offers timid emotional support by curling up in his lap, purring loudly as scratches under her chin. Now you’re jealous of a cat. 

How dmbarrassing.

Calling proves futile. Seungkwan’s phone goes straight to voicemail and Vernon doesn’t answer either. He tries texting them with the same results.

“You can sleep on the couch,” you offer.

“Are you sure? I don’t wanna impose.”

“I won’t be able to sleep knowing you’re sitting in the hall all night,” you say. “Let me get you a blanket.”

In your room, you quickly change out of your bar clothes and into pajamas. It takes some time to dig out a pair of sweats and a tshirt that’ll fit Seokmin but you eventually find something for him. Snagging a pillow from your bed and an extra blanket from the linen closet. you head into the living room.

You force the clothes into his chest. “Here. Get changed and I’ll make your bed.”

A dark look glazes his face and for a second you think he might kiss you. Or you hope he’s thinking about it half as much as you are. But the moment passes. He locks himself in your room while you busy making the lumpy, itchy couch somewhat comfortable for him. 

“Wanna watch a movie?”

You settle on Krampus. Neither of you have seen it but even after tonight you doubt you’d be able to recall a single detail. Seokmin pulls your legs over his lap like second nature, covering you both in the blanket, his hands resting on your shin. Choosing shorts over pants was a mistake. The heat of his thigh against the back of yours makes you squirm. The calluses on his palms scratch an itch leading straight between your legs as he rubs up and down absentmindedly, never trailing higher than your knee.

You’re shaking. His hand squeezes and you nearly heave.

“Cold?” 

No.

But you nod anyway. 

Seokmin pulls another blanket off the back of the couch, carefully layering it over the first, tucking you in tight before putting his arms back over your legs.

“You know, you’re a really good guy, Seok.”

“Thanks.”

It’s shameful. How bad you want to kiss him, for him to kiss you. 

“I mean it.”

“I don’t know if it's true though.”

Instead of asking what he means, you lean closer. Then Seokmin does too. You’re too busy staring at his mouth to notice him doing the same. All your thoughts hone in on if he was as good a kisser as you imagined. And if you kissed him right now, would he kiss you back? If you touched him, would he touch you too?

Someone moves first. It doesn’t matter who because his nose nudges against yours, then you're swallowing his sigh, and you both practically melt at the relief. 

It’s better than anything you could have cooked up in your head. His lips are soft, the rough pads of his fingers gentle as he tips your chin. You like it. You like him. 

Your lips catch on his bottom lip by accident but it's the first domino to topple into a chain reaction. Seokmin’s lips part, your hands bury in his hair. His thumb hones in on the strip of skin between your top and your shorts. You maneuver into his lap, fingers cataloguing the expanse of his shoulders, his neck. Back into his hair. Close as you are, it isn’t close enough. You arch into him, dragging your lips across the line of his throat when his head falls back.

His hands are everywhere. The small of your waist, the base of your spine, lifting your shirt until it’s tossed to the floor and your topless in his lap, shaking with anticipation.

“Fuck,” he mumbles. His eyes lock on your nipples, tight from just a few light touches.

Seokmin pulls you back down, kissing you slow and heavy while his hands touch you with gentle reverence. 

Clothes come off. The borrowed sweater he’s wearing reveals so much skin you don’t know where to start. But Seokmin doesn’t let you linger too long because he’s taking off your bottoms until you’re completely naked. Seokmin eases his body over yours, heavy between your thighs. 

A particularly harsh pass of his hips pulls a wire down your spine, back arching painfully, moaning at the ceiling. 

“Ha,” you waver under his teeth, his tongue worshiping your chest, leaving broad strokes you imagine will feel amazing on other parts of your body. Head tipped back, you display yourself openly for him to touch and tease.

“Take your pants off,” you beg.

“I don’t have a condom.”

“Oh.”

“It’s okay,” he says, mouthing against the sensitive spot below your jaw. His smile is clear. “We don’t have to do anything.”

You make a sound between a whine and a grunt. You want to have sex with him. Right here, on your shitty couch. But you aren’t willing to take the risk, no matter how badly you want it. Even if he does have a weird dick which you doubt based on the feeling of it against your naked cunt.

“You think my dick is weird?” he asks, half shocked and half amused.

“No! I—” you scramble. “I don’t think your dick is weird.”

“But you’ve thought about my dick?”

“I’m not supposed to.”

Seokmin grins, clearly amused. “Why not?”

“Because you’re my neighbor.”

“Oh.” He rushes to rise off you, kneeling between your spread legs. “If you don’t want to, it’s okay.”

“I do want to. That's the problem,” you whine.

He hums in acknowledgment, body shaking with barely suppressed giggles. 

You thrash. “Don’t be mean.”

“I’m not, I've just…never had someone be so eager.”

He kisses you like he’s the eager one, tongue tracing your bottom lip until you welcome him in with a lewd suck. It only lasts for a second before he’s back down your chest and then kneeling in front of the couch, nuzzling the meat of your thigh while his fingers stroke against your wetness timidly.

“Is this okay?”

“Yep!” you choke. “Great.”

Your legs verge on numbness from being bent in half for so long but Seokmin keeps finding those spots that make it worth it. You need something to hold onto; his hair, the cushions, your own breasts. Seokmin seems to love that the most. Grunting into your pussy as he watches with reverence as you play with yourself.

“Taste so good,” he rasps. “You’re so hot.”

Fingers thrusting, Seokmin strings you out. When he crooks the digits buried deep inside you, your back breaks in half. The hand pinning your waist down holds tights, the lean muscles flexing in your view. 

“J-just like that,” you hiccup. 

He never falters. Seokmin does exactly as you ask until you curl and come wet and hot on his face with a cry. It’s not until you push him off that he stops completely, rubbing the mess of his fingers on his pants and crowding you back into the couch cushion to taste yourself off his tongue. 

You moan against his mouth. “Wanna taste you.”

“I’m good.”

“I want to,” you beg.

“No like—”

You paw at his crotch only for the enticing hardness to be absent. He’s soft. Confusion furrows your brows for a brief second until the rosy tint to his cheeks registers. 

Seokmin hides in the crook of your neck, sigh ruffling your hair as he gets cozy in the warm space and allows his nose to trace the curve of your shoulder. “It usually doesn’t happen like that. I don’t—”

“That's so hot,” you mumble. The heat of his body combined with an orgasm and the last bit of your blood lulls you closer to sleep with every second.  

Seokmin tugs your shirt back over your head before pulling you close, his bare chest against your back, legs tangled beneath a quilt. Pure content tickles across your senses, followed by the warm drag of sleep.

Seokmin is gone by the time you wake up.

Shuffling from the couch into the bedroom, you accept he probably left early to get his keys from Seungkwan and didn’t want to wake you. Your head pounds in time with your pulse, stomach turning at the thought of getting off the couch. Thank God he didn’t try to wake you. There’s nothing less attractive than wanting to lay on the floor and wait for the sweet release of death.

The second time you wake up is to the sound of Shinx shredding a scrap of paper at the foot of your bed.

“You bastard,” you groan.

A set of large eyes stares back at you for a moment, before she meows and gets back to work on her kill. You nudge her off the edge of the bed with your foot. She bolts for the living room while you hide back into the pillows until it’s dark outside once again.

When you start feeling human enough to shower and eat, you check your phone. A text from Lydia and a few other notifications greet you but none from Seokmin. Not a call, or a text, or anything. Complete radio silence.

You hear him come home, the shuffle of his feet down the hallway and the slam of his front door. But there's no singing; not even so much as a hum. No knocking on the shared wall. You can’t hear a single thing from his side even when – embarrassingly – you press your ear against the wall like an eavesdropper. 

It’s like that for days.

Seokmin leaves his apartment after you get home. Or when you come back from work you hear him rush to turn down his music like he wants you to believe he’s out. He’s avoiding you. And you don’t know why.

You’ve thought about trying to catch him in the act; waiting by the door and popping out to ask him what his problem is. But you’re not sure if you want the answer to that question. He probably regrets kissing you. He definitely regrets kissing you if he's acting like this. But you don’t want to rush to conclusions either. The show opens Friday night and being director requires all hands on deck. Seokmin probably doesn’t even have time to brush his teeth let alone think about whatever it is between you too. Add the fact the actor for Scrooge broke his leg just before the auction and the only person comfortable enough with the role is also directing, he’s under a lot of pressure.

But none of the reassuring thoughts get you to leave the house the night of the show.

It wasn’t as if you had to be there. You helped fundraise but you weren’t cast or crew so your attendance was optional, even if there were two tickets waiting for you at willcall. Missed calls and texts rack up on your phone screen. Lydia, Seungkwan, Chan… But none from Seokmin. You should have turned your phone off to avoid the fall out from ditching. 

Instead, you accidentally pick up Lydia’s call. 

“Where are you?” Lydia screeches through the speaker. “The show's about to start.”

“I’m…I’m sick.”

You even fake cough but Lydia doesn’t buy it for a second.

“Seriously?”

“What?”

“Get your ass down here or I swear to god I’ll drag you by your hair.”

“Why would I go? He hasn’t talked to me all week?”

“So? Who cares!” she huffs, “You worked really hard to make sure this all got done. They wouldn’t have costumes or a set without everything you did. Forget Seokmin, come see it for yourself.”

“I—”

“Listen. Whatever happened between you two happened. But don’t let that chase you away from this. We can plot revenge tomorrow but tonight you should celebrate how hard you worked to make this happen.”

“Alright.”

You race to dress somewhat appropriately. Sweater, leggings, and a nice coat are all you can manage if you want to make it before intermission ends. It’s a miracle you’re not pulled over for speeding or running through yellow lights at the last minute but you get downtown in record time.

The street outside the theater is quiet, fog rising from the damp pavement. Through the glass doors into the theater, people mill about. You missed the first half of the show but there’s still time.

Lydia waits on the steps, exhaling a foggy breath when she finds you.  “Thank god.”

“How's it so far?”

“Good. I can’t believe I’ve never come to one of these before.” She types furiously on her phone before locking it and tossing it back into her purse. “The costumes look so good.”

The theater is packed to the brim, the lobby practically bursting at the seams as people chat through intermission. The costumes look better than good and so do the sets. Seokmin plays a more than convincing Scrooge, even better than the ones you’ve seen in the million movie versions of the play you’ve watched together. There’s no way he can see you with the bright stage lights but more than once it feels like he’s staring right where you sit, looking for someone. Looking for you.

Your eyes remain glued to the stage, unable to blink just in case you miss a second. It's dizzying watching him perform, as if you're staring up at the sky for too long and starting to feel unmoored; like you can't look away, can't accept that something so captivating exists.

After another hour, the lights go up, the cast take their bows. Without warning, you’re blinking into a harsh spotlight.

“Stand up,” Lydia whispers, prodding your side.

“What the hell is going on?”

“This production wouldn’t have been possible without Y/N. We’re so thankful for someone like her.”

You smile awkwardly and wait for the clapping to die down as the spotlight moves back to the stage. The second it's over, you’re up the aisle and into the lobby.

Straight into Seungkwan, who is subtly guarding the door like he knew you’d run at the first chance.

“You’re coming to the after party, right?” he asks.

Other people start filtering in from the auditorium. Maybe, you can lose him in the chaos and go home. 

“Of course she is,” Lydia interjects. Her arm weaves through yours, a firm threat that she’ll drag you if she has to.

The after party is for cast and crew of legal drinking age at Jane’s. Lydia and Seungkwan ride with you, another silent threat looming in the air.  They chat the entire way, undeterred by your silence. It's nice having friends that care but all you want is to hide under a blanket on your couch and spend the rest of the night crying while Shinx watches you with unveiled disgust.

Outside the bar, you promise one drink, claiming that you really are sick and want to go home. Which might be true. You’re off kilter, head spinning, stomach twisted into untangleable knots. But that might be because you can hear Seokmin’s laugh as you enter and your muscles twitch to dive beneath a table until he leaves.

You manage to find a stool in the corner. Even in an attempt to remain unseen more than half the bar stops by to thank you; crew members you haven’t met or cast you’ve seen in passing. Lydia stays by your side throughout, a steady presence as you lose yourself in the party. You can almost forget who is floating around the outskirts of the bar like a ghost. 

“Vernon sent me to ask if you want to play pool,” Seungkwan says to Lydia.

She sends you a sideways glance. Not asking for permission but like you’re a kid she can’t leave alone.

“Go,” you say, brushing her away. “I’ll be fine.”

“Don’t leave without telling me.”

“I’m leaving right now,” you tell her.

“Fine,” she sighs. Then she pulls you into a hug. Lydia isn’t a hugger, in the years you’ve known her you can count on your fingers the number of times it’s happened. “But you should clear the air before you go.”

“I live next to him. There are plenty of opportunities.”

She gives you an extra squeeze, fully aware you’ll continue pretending he doesn’t exist until everything smooths over and you and Seokmin are back to neighbors who tolerate each other's existence in fragile silence.

Which would work if the second you turn around to leave you don’t run straight into him.

He rubs the side of his head. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you say. “Can we talk?”

He nods before turning to leave the bar, not waiting to see if you follow but you do. 

The party inside the bar echoes out onto the snowy street. It seems no one else is crazy enough to have an overdue conversation in a snowstorm, but better here than anywhere else. At least after Seokmin lets you down, you can run back to your apartment and pretend he doesn’t exist anymore.

Seokmin stands a few paces away, barely illuminated in neon signs and string lights strewn across the street. You aren’t drunk, not even tipsy. Alcohol would make this conversation worse but it’d take the edge off your nerves and dull a little bit of the cold.

You shove both hands in your pockets, unsure what to say now that you have him all alone.

“The play was good.”

“Thanks. Next time you’ll have to see the first act.”

It comes out like a joke but you can feel the vitriol like a bucket of ice water. Ouch.

“I—”

“If you’re not over your ex it’s okay,” he winces. “We can stay friends.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“Sam. You still have feelings for him. It’s fine if you do, I get it. I’m not mad or anything I just thought…”

“I am over Sam.”

“Well, congrats on getting over him I guess,” Seokmin shrugs but his grin is forced. “Is that all you wanted to talk about?”

“Are you serious?” you scoff, venom stinging the tip of your tongue. 

His face glazes with annoyance. “What else is there?”

“Why did you leave?”

“I had work.”

You want to smack to frown off his face. 

“But you didn’t text me or leave a note. I woke up and you were gone and then didn’t hear anything from you.”

“I did leave a note. You iced me out,” he argues.

“Where? Because from where I’m standing you left as soon as you could and then ignored me like it never happened.”

“My phone died so I left a note on the counter. And you never texted me or anything so I thought you were trying to let me down easy.”

He left you a note. The shredded paper on your bed…

“Oh my god,” you gasp, ire evaporating. “Shinx.”

“Your cat?”

Laughter bubbles out of your throat, so thick you choke on your next words. “I think she ate your note.”

The realization hangs in the air, Seokmin froze as your words sink in. He stares at you for a moment, still recovering from the absurdity of it all, before he finally exhales a long breath.

“I thought she liked me,” he whines, face lit up with the beginning of a smile. 

“Shinx is loyal to no one.”

His body meets yours, like cards precariously leaned against one another to prevent a topple as you both shake with laughter. The cold of the street disappears in the warmth of his touch. 

“You’re not that kind of guy. I know that. I shouldn’t have—”

“I could’ve texted you after I went to Kwan’s,” he interjects. 

“I could’ve called you.”

Seokmin’s gaze roams across your face. “How about we start over?”

“I’d like that,” you smile, closing the scant amount of space left between your bodies. 

“Me too.”

Your lips brush against his, the faintest contact sending a storm of butterflies through your stomach. You’re both smiling too much for it to count as a real kiss but neither of you seem to care. His hand slips around the back of your neck, holding you closer just for a moment longer.

Seokmin convinces you to stay at the bar for a few more hours. He holds your hand, keeps you under his arm, looks at you after each joke to make sure you’re laughing too. Seokmin is nothing like Sam. You’ve known that all along but the fear lingered and you refused to acknowledge it. He’s someone you actually could fall for if you let yourself. 

He might hurt you but the potential for something great outweighs the bad in spades.

As the night drags on, you end up closer; sitting on his laps, his hands protectively wrapped around your waist. His chin hooks over your shoulder and you lean back against him. The slow burn between you roars to a boil when you trace mindless shapes against his palm, Seokmin’s breath shaky in his chest.

“Ready to go home?” he whispers huskily. His breath rushes down your neck, goosebumps bloom in its wake. 

You shift closer – the seam of your jeans only further worsening your arousal – and nod.

Once outside, you’re tangled in each other once again, limbs indecipherable. The sudden chill of midnight air has you turning back into his chest, the arm previously on your back curling low on your waist. Seokmin orders an Uber and immediately focuses back on you the second he can. You catch a text on his screen before he can lock his phone. Seokmin holds you the same as before but it’s different this time. You’re both waiting for the damn to break and the flood to wash away whatever tension lingers between you. 

[10:56PM] Mr. Boo: do not fuck this up

[10:56PM] Mr. Boo: lydia said she would kill you and i think she’s serious

The cab ride home is a blur. You’re focused on not scandalizing the drive while Seokmin keeps a hand firmly on your knee, perfectly proper if it wasn’t for the grit in his jaw when you return the touch just high enough for your pinky to graze his zipper. 

The second the car stops, you throw the door open and pull Seokmin out and inside the lobby, straight to the elevator where he grabs your waist and uses the leverage to kiss you with so much heat you sweat.

He tries pressing you into the wall but you beat him to the punch, crowding him into the corner, front flush with him from head to toe. Seokmin groans, pushing back as you grind over his thigh. One of you pushes the button to your floor.

When the doors open, he gains the upper hand. Tugging you down the hall, he bypasses your door and goes straight for his own. He fumbles with the keys from the way you suck at his pulse but after a few tries he succeeds, pulling you inside and pressing you into the wall of the hallway.

“I like you,” he admits, rushing to unzip your coat and stuff his freezing hands inside, curling them against your waist. “This isn’t just sex.”

You nod dumbly. “I know. I like you, too.”

“And we should – hmmm – go on a date sometime.”

“Okay,” you rasp. 

His thigh slots back between yours. All those memories of his mouth and fingers rush to the forefront, teasing you with the fantasy of Seokmin on his knees right here, eating you out next to his front door. 

He presses hard against your core, fingers tracing the seam of your pants. Your hands reach beneath his shirt; pulling, squeezing. Nails digging into his tense stomach with each bump against your covered clit.

“Seokmin,” you whimper.

You're pulled off the wall. A trail of clothing is left in your wake to his room. Hats, coats, sweaters, undershirts. Seokmin manages to keep his pants on but allows you to unbutton them for a weak handjob over his briefs.

“God,” he exhales close to your ear.

In all the nights you two have hung out you’ve never been in his room. You try to take in as many details as possible but Seokmin dedicates himself to driving you insane with his lips on your neck, gently nipping and sucking until you shiver.

If you had any foresight this was going to happen then you would have at least picked matching underwear. But he seems thrilled as he crowds you into the bed. 

His mouth replaces his hand, lapping at your nipple, completely disregarding the fabric of your bra, before sucking it into his mouth. The hand that was on your chest dips beneath your panties. Fingertips circle your clit, gliding through the wet mess, dipping shallowly inside you.

Your hips rut into the touch. You want more. Need more. And you know Seokmin can give you what you need.

You guide his mouth to your neglected nipple, pushing the cup out of the way and arching as he gives it the same attention. “Please.”

“I got you,” he promises.

Seokmin melts down between your legs, kneeling at the side of the bed; one on his shoulder, the other pressed up your chest. Your hands bury in his hair as he licks a long strip up your core. Each pathetic sound fleeing your lips is rewarded with a deeper curl of his fingers, a harsher lap of his tongue. He leaves wet kisses on your thighs, spreading the mess of arousal and spit before diving back.

You squeeze tight on his fingers. “O-oh, oh fuck.”

Your hips stutter into his mouth. It washes over you, muscles clenched so hard it hurts. The way your heels dig into his back must hurt too but you don’t care. Neither does Seokmin. He doesn’t stop as you claw at him, following that inferno scorching through every tissue, begging him to keep going until you wilt into the sheets.

The ceiling comes slowly into focus, dots floating across your vision. You’re sweating despite the chill hanging in the air. Thankfully, Seokmin blankets you in his heat as he kisses across your hips, then your sternum, then buries his face into your neck. Your shivers have nothing to do with the cold.

“Wow,” you pant. 

Seokmin’s face cracks into a tired grin. Fatigue ghosts over the room but you're not done yet. The weight of his cock between your legs demands attention, and you’re all too eager to touch him.

He doesn’t object when you push him onto his back, or to the trail of soft kisses down his front, allowing you to mark up the smooth expanse of his chest and belly how you see fit. You savor the warmth of his body with each touch. Allow your fingers to gently wash away each press of your lips and warm him up for what's to come.

You suck the head of his cock through the fabric, teasing him with your tongue until the taste of pre-cum floods your mouth. 

He sinks into the bed. A hand finds its way into your hair, unsure if he wants to pull you off or sink deeper into the heat of your mouth, even if it is just a tease. You tug his underwear out of the way and continue torturing him. Thrilled by the way his stomach tense with each desperate whine from the way your tongue traces every ridge.

He gently guides you back and forth, taking the strain off your neck as you take more and more before he pulls you off. “Wait, shit.”

“What–”

“I was gonna come,” Seokmin explains, pulling you up his chest to drop placating kisses against your chin.

“That’s okay,” you smile. “I want you to.”

“But I want to fuck you.”

“Next time?”

“Fuck yes, next time,” he pants as he rolls you on to your back.

He keeps his mouth on yours, tongue sliding hotly against your own while blindly searching for a condom in the bedside table. 

Your hips angle and so do his, a little wiggle and then he’s inside you and it ruins your life. Just the first inch seals your eyes shut, vision filled with stars. You can feel everything; full in a way you’ve never felt before.

Seokmin draws back timidly, allowing you both to watch the way your body takes him so easily.

Somehow he manages to rock deeper, stretch you at just the right angle. Surges right into that spot that curls your chest tight with rough fluidity. The muscles in your thighs are at war with whether to spread wider or squeeze around his waist.

“I wanna ride you.”

There are so many things you want to do with him. To him. But you start with this, taking command of his lap, sinking back on his dick with another tight stretch; glowing as Seokmin watches slack-jawed.

“God, you’re perfect,” he praises.

You fuck yourself on him, knees digging into the mattress as you grind back and forth and all Seokmin can do is watch. A loose grip on your hips as his face glazes over. Your thighs cramp but the way he looks against the pillows, hazy around the edges, hair flat at one side and wild on the other, encourages you to finish what you started.

“Touch me,” you beg.

His neck goes red, ears too, when his hand wedges back between your thighs. “Wanna see you come again. Fuck, you’re so pretty when you come for me.”

Your hips cant wildly, stuttering under his free flowing praise. Too full, too much. You nearly scramble off his lap to snatch at your sanity drifting away.

He kisses you gently, sweet praise ghosting over your lips. “That’s it. Just like that.”

You’re not even moving. Seokmin works your clit raw, fucks up into you with limited motion as you choke on another orgasm that leaves you wet at the eyes and the room spinning. 

“U-ugh. Fuck,” you shiver, collapsing into his chest.

“Can,” he chokes. “Can I—”

An imperceivable dip of your chin and Seokmin rolls you back over and flattens your thighs open; hard rushes of his hips, stomach taunt.

“Come for me. Want you to come inside me,” you sigh. 

“Shit, shit, shit,” he chants as he shakes beneath your hands before slumping over.

You rebound faster than Seokmin; he’s almost snoring against your chest as you rake a hand through the tangled mess of his hair, melting under the weight on your lips against his hairline.

“You’re pretty when you come, too,” you tease. 

He swats your hand away, rising off you to dispose of the condom in the bathroom before rushing back into bed to clean you with a washcloth. When he’s done, he throws it into some forgotten corner of the room where the rest of your clothes hide and dives under the covers with you in tow. 

Your limbs lace with his, all nude skin on skin. 

“I would like to take you out for real sometime,” Seokmin whispers.

“Good thing I have a four hundred dollar date to cash in on.”

“You know,” he smiles into your cheek. “You could have asked me for free.”

“Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?”

taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @/miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie

@gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire

@missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @sliceofwoozi

@writingbarnes @dokyeomkyeom @christinewithluv @minwonfairy @wobblewobble822

@futuristicenemychaos @seungkw1 @horanghaezone @jespecially @scoupsjin

@isabellah29 @luvseungcheol @crisle19 @iamawkwardandshy @lukeys-giggle

@aaa-sia @tinkerbell460 @gyuhao365 @ourkivee  @bokk-minnie

@cookiearmy  @moonlightwonu @kyeomofhearts

@melonacco @lllucere @wwjagabeee @syluslittlecrows @yourbimbohope

@whrryuu @wonrangwoo @xchaenx @champagnenoona

[xprakzif]

tell him.

matthew sturniolo

parings: matt x fem!reader

warnings: SMUT, mdni!!, cheating(i do not condone this), oral receiving, p in v, yea you know already..

summary: matt can’t keep his hands off of his friend, knowing she has a boyfriend. he tries to forget her but she keeps making an appearance.

lowkey inspired by tell your girlfriend by lay bankz

{the bf in this has a random name}

the first

being around the triplets since her junior year of high school created a close bond. nick being the one who introduced himself to her, seeing her alone sitting in the cafeteria mindlessly scrolling through nothing wanting to be anywhere but that place.

ever since, they’ve treated her like another sibling from what she thought.

“hi guys!” she exclaimed, walking up the stairs of their home. “this is my boyfriend, kian!”

a boy followed behind her appearing after coming up the stairs.

“y/n! hey, kian, i’ve heard so much about you!” nick came over to greet. she gave him a ‘stfu’ look, remembering all the facetime calls and snaps about her drooling over him.

“yoo! i’m chris, nice to meet you.” the pair joined matt on the couch where he greeted them with a smile.

“this is matt! he’s shy.” she poked introducing him.

“i’m not!”

“yea, even knowing them for years, i could tell them apart from the moment i met them.” she added to the conversation.

they were all sat at a table at top golf, eating and talking about things that made the others around them glare.

“i mean, there’s definitely features that y’all share, but i can tell-“ kian was interrupted by his phone loudly ringing. “my fault, excuse me.” turning away in his seat to not intrude on the side conversations as he answered the call.

the others remained talking about their looks and making inappropriate comments and jokes.

“sorry y/n, i have to go. my brothers car broke down again and he’s stranded.” kian explained gathering his belongings.

“again? he really needs to retire ol’ reliable. but that’s fine, just let me know when you get situated!” she replied receiving a hug and kiss on the forehead.

“it was real cool meeting you guys!” he farewelled, leaving the area after receiving goodbyes.

“wait.. now i have to uber home!”

“girl, you know you’re welcome to stay the night at ours if you want to.” nick reminded his friend as he wiped him mouth with a napkin. she smiled and nodded agreeing to his offer.

“you’re still hungry after all you ate at top golf?” matt teased at chris who was devouring the microwaved popcorn in his lap as the brothers sat around the living room with their friend as a movie lit up the room.

“mind your business!” chris remarked with a full mouth, throwing a handful in his direction accidentally hitting the girl beside matt.

“dude!” she screeched. he covered his mouth and looked away trying to play it off.

she poked matt quietly giggling as she pointed to nick on the loveseat who was fast asleep. chris took notice as well, laughing and decided to throw his snack at him.

nick jumped awake, searching for what just hit him. “chris- i swear! can’t even rest my eyes around you.”

nick stood up with the blanket wrapped around him.

“i’m gonna go lay down, y/n you can come in when you’re ready.” with that disappearing to his bedroom.

eventually, after finishing his snack, chris went to bed after the movie finished. matt glanced at his friend who was indulged in her phone.

“how aren’t you tired yet?” he asked.

“oh trust me i am.” she put her phone down and rubbed her eyes. he smiled, quickly looking away. she got up, making her way to nicks bedroom before quietly shouting, “night, matt!”

reaching nicks door, she softly turned the knob incase he was already asleep. the knob became stiff and wouldn’t turn fully. it was locked.

confused, she assumed nick just wanted to sleep.

the lights in the living room were off. she thought about going to chris but soon remembered he was most definitely knocked out.

matt couldn’t have been asleep that quickly. she tip toed to his door, lightly patting on the door. almost immediately it opened revealing matt in just his underwear. his eyes became wide unexpecting her to be at his door.

“um.. nicks door is locked. can i sleep with you?”

it wasn’t unusual, they all slept in the same bed once when their manager had messed up their hotel booking. this time matt felt different.

“sure, cmon..” he let her in the room. going straight for the bed, she layed down on the left side getting under the covers as he joined her with a slight dip in the bed.

the room was silent. the blowing of the air conditioner and occasional traffic noise cutting the silence. she trembled from the coldness even under the thick comforter.

she didn’t even know her actions were obvious until matt spoke, “you cold?” with a slight chuckle in his voice.

“a little- sorry.” she whispered turning to face him. “i usually cuddle with my plushies at home, don’t judge.”

his breathing picked up suddenly as he thought about his next question.

“do you wanna.. um- cuddle with me?”

she hesitated, but thought it was a good idea so she shifted closer indicating agreement. he wrapped his arms around her gently, taking in the various smells of expensive shampoo and sweet perfume. her head lied under his chin smothered into his chest, hearing his rapid heartbeat.

neither of them knew why their anxiety skyrocketed in the moment.

he couldn’t help but notice the subtle lighting from his window glistening on her face. it was so faint, he didn’t even realize she was staring at his gaze.

thank goodness for the angle, otherwise she would see his pink washed cheeks from embarrassment as he looked away. she tilted her head upwards, grinning as he drew his focus back to her, admiring her distinguished features.

something sprung his confidence strong enough to overpower the racing of his heart as he placed a hand under her chin, bringing her face closer. she didn’t react, assuming she was okay with the actions, he placed his lips onto hers.

the kiss was soft and loving. it almost felt like electricity through their bodies. she didn’t even think she liked him. maybe she just ignored the feeling, knowing his popularity wouldn’t allow them to form a decent relationship. she felt grateful enough to be as close with him and his brothers. forcing herself onto them was never the intention.

matt on the other hand knew from the start. they way she showed no deeper interest made him hesitant. he loved her personality and how she was introverted. it was easy to talk to her. once she announced her new relationship, his heart stung knowing he’d lost his opportunity.

she pulled back first. he thought he’d fucked up.

“i’m- im so sorry, y/n..” she was still in his embrace, not tense but comfortable and safe. he was confused.

“it’s okay. goodnight matt” she smiled and nestled into his chest.

he knew he wasn’t gonna get any ounce of sleep after that.

“chris! go get some napkin, i am not cleaning this up!” nicks voice was loud enough to wake matt up after hazily falling asleep a few hours later.

he had forgotten for not much longer about what had happened when he realized y/n wasn’t in his bed. he checked his phone on his nightstand seeing it was noon.

“where’s y/n?” he made his way to the kitchen where nick sat on his laptop while chris was soaking up an orange liquid off the counter with paper towels, seemingly close to nicks workspace.

“goodmorning to you too, matt!” chris mocked.

“she left early this morning. went to breakfast with kian to make up for yesterday or something. she didn’t tell you?” nick spoke not looking up from his screen.

matt leaned his body over the counter, “no- she slept in my room last night, since you were sleeping.” he felt a hot flash in his body remembering the moment before you fell asleep.

nick finally looked matt in the eye, “i wasn’t sleeping? i waited for her and she never came.”

“what? she said your door was locked!” he grew confused. did she lie? no she couldn’t have, it’s not like she meant to sleep in his room.

nick stood quiet for a few seconds. his face displaying confusion as if he was trying to solve the hardest equation ever. he grew excited once he figured out the answer.

“oh! i must’ve forgot to unlock it after i changed.” he exclaimed as calmly as he could.

“dude!”

matt thought he was angry for a second. this whole situation could’ve been avoided. was it a good thing? did he ruin everything?

the fall

“happy birthday dear y/n, happy birthday to you!”

her friends were gathered around the kitchen island of her cozy apartment. kian planned a small surprise get together for her birthday since she was far from her family and would celebrate with them separately.

she thanked the group and blew out the gold number candles as she cheered for herself gaining giggles from around her.

she went about the room, hugging each of her guest and thanking them for being there. once she got to the triplets she embraced them individually as she got to matt and he stopped her.

“y/n, i got you something- i think you should open it right away” he held a pink box with a white ribbon. it was oddly shaped and seemed fragile so she had him bring it over to her small brown sofa.

he placed it on the seat before sitting opposite to her to watch her reaction. the other brothers followed along standing over her to see what was inside.

she slowly pulled the ribbon until matt spoke, “i really hope it’s not too much, i just know you’ve been wanting one for this longest..”

the flaps lifted on their own as she jumped back, revealing a small gray kitten with green eyes.

her jaw dropped as her eyes began to water with joy. “no- you didn’t!” lifting the kitten free from the box. “matt! you’re unbelievable!” she pushed the container to the rug and moved closer to hug him.

“you’ve been posting a lot about wanting a kitten and i really didn’t know what else to get you- oh, and he’s a boy by the way..” he laughed watching her childlike expression.

“kian! come look what matt got me!” she called for her boyfriend who was chatting with some of their mutual friends. he made his way over as she held the kitten up in the air.

matt’s heart sunk slightly as she shared her happiness with kian instead of him.

no one was paying attention to nick and chris’s shocked reactions.

“aww, how cute.. damn i kinda look like a shitty boyfriend now!” kian joked obviously as she giggled along with him.

“what’s wrong?” she looked to the two brothers who were still confused.

“we had no idea he was getting you that!” chris mentioned as nick agreed.

“honestly, i didn’t want you guys to ruin the surprise with your big mouths!” matt argued playfully.

the night grew old as the guest died down leaving just the triplets and kian in her apartment. it wasn’t long until kian bid farewell explaining his early morning work schedule.

she already changed into plaid pajama pants and a white tank sweatshirt as she curled up on the couch petting her new addition.

“still not over this!” she referred to her present.

matt grinned feeling warm and accomplished knowing he made her happy. he couldn’t help but watch as she stroked the bundle of fur, giggling at each movement he made.

each person in the room jumped as a sudden clap of thunder roared. the rain was unexpected and loud enough to tell it was dangerous driving conditions.

“guys, you can’t drive in that. it’s storming,” her voice was of concern. “just wait until it dies down.”

just as she spoke the room became black as everything went silent. the power went out.

“shit! that scared the hell out of me.” nick yelled from his place on the couch.

“dude it’s freezing in here!” chris complained, although he wore the most layers than anyone preset. she had an idea.

“i’ll go get us blankets.” standing and turning her phones flashlight on.

“i’ll come help you..” a voice behind her spike as she shined the light right into his face making him cover his eyes.

“thanks, matt! chris hold my kitty.” she placed the kitten on his lap with no warning. he giggled at her choice of words as nick scoffed.

“okay, do you think that’s good enough?” matt was holding atleast 10 blankets in various fabrics and materials.

“definitely- why do you even have so many?” matt asked struggling to balance them all.

“i’m just a girl, don’t ask me!” she closed the closet door when her flashlight turned off on its own. she stumbled to find her phone before tripping over it on the floor, falling into matt causing him to drop all the blankets. they both landed on the bed not being too far a distance from the closet.

“i- ow, i’m sorry..” she apologized.

a flash of lighting shined into the bedroom window giving them both a view of each others face.

matt felt the familiar feeling in his chest, as well as a new one in his pants. she was lying right on top of him.

this time it was her who initiated it.

leaning in, she pressed a kiss to his lips to see his reaction.

he was taken back but knew what he wanted. he gripped her waist lifting her off of him and placing her fully on the bed. this time he placed his weight over top of her gently and moved his lips onto hers.

the kiss was different this time.

instead of loving and warm, it was lustful and rough.

it didn’t stop there, she wrapped her legs around him pulling his hips to hers. she felt his crotch solid against hers as he grinded into her.

they were so hungry for eachother they didn’t notice the light pattering of little paws stumble into the room.

continuing to make out, matt tugged on her tank top begging for it to come off. just before she started lifting her arms for him to remove it, larger footsteps entered the dark room along with a hushed voice.

“shadow- come back!”

matt leaped onto his feet after hearing his brothers voice. light beamed into the room as chris walked in flashing his phones light to find the kitten that hopped off his lap to explore his new home.

“there you are! oh- and there you are too” chris aimed the light to his brother and friend who was sitting on her bed. the blankets were scattered on the floor, but it was too dark for chris to realize.

“did- did you just name my cat?” she asked remembering him calling for shadow.

“i mean.. it’s fitting..” he said picking up the small feline.

“i love that! his name is shadow.” she cheered walking over to pet the kitten as if nothing happened. she didn’t want to act suspicious so she quickly changed her demeanor while matt stood frozen in his place unsatisfied.

a buzzing sound took place as the lights began to flicker back on along with the air system.

nick could be heard shouting in relief in the living room. “well.. i guess that’s our cue.” chris joked walking out the bedroom after handing y/n her kitten.

she glanced at matt, a soft expression on her face. he was flushed with red cheeks and puffy lips, his hair messy. she decided to walk out the room, leaving the awkward silence as he followed behind her.

“okay, i’ll see you boys soon- text me when you get home!” she demanded watching them collect themselves ready to head out.

chris and nick were already out the door just when matt was leaving when she called, “matt!” he turned with sudden movement, “hm?” he responded.

“um.. thanks.. for shadow” hesitating at her words.

he nodded. a grin forming on his face as he quickly turned away to leave her apartment.

the following

ding

the chime of her phone was loud and the light lit up the room. she was a light sleeper, but she always made sure her phone ringer was on full volume at night, in case of emergencies.

groaning, she turned on her side. grabbing her phone from her nightstand to check as shadow moved away from her chest to lay down at the foot of the bed, annoyed at the movements she was making.

matty: y/n?

she grew fully conscious seeing a text from him. eyes flickering to the left corner reading 3:15AM.

:yes?

the message bubble popped up almost immediately after being read.

matty: can we talk

she knew this would come eventually. though she wasn’t quite sure what part he wanted to discuss. it’s been 3 days since her birthday. 3 days since the incident in her room. the room she was currently in, on the bed she was currently laying on.

:??

matty: about thursday y/n

she sighed.

: matt it was a mistake

matty: in person

matty: can we talk in person

:it’s 3am

matty: i’ll come get you

matty: please

matty: i can’t sleep

she felt guilty. he couldn’t sleep, too busy having her run through his mind. she was tired, but if she didn’t settle this now, it would ruin everything.

: alright fine

the time flew by quickly. she found herself in an oversized gray hoodie, waiting for his text. it was long enough to cover her down to her knees, so she didn’t bother wearing pants thinking it would be a quick chat in the car.

headlights shined through her window before she received a message telling her matt had arrived.

she grabbed shadow and held him close, his little bell chiming as she bounced with each step down her apartment complex stairs. he was too young to be left alone, and who knows how long this talk would be.

the car door opened as matt nearly broke his neck to see her coming in.

“hey.. it’s cool if we go to my place?” he suggested, reaching over to pet shadow who was on her lap.

she wasn’t expecting a trip. nor did she dress for one. but it was a better idea than staying out in a car at 3AM. she nodded.

the drive was silent besides the radio playing lowly.

he let her in. “let’s go to my room- nick and chris are asleep,” whispering as he placed a hand on her back making her shudder.

matt and y/n were sat in the red sheets of his bed. shadow never left her lap, afraid of being in a new house.

“y/n.. i r-”

“it was a mistake, matt.” she assured him sternly. why did she feel like crying? she loved kian. though she was forcing herself to think about him in that moment.

“i don’t think it was.. i don’t think it was a mistake” matt pleaded. his voice was low but his tone made her swallow a her feelings down.

it was quiet.

“i love him-“ she chocked.

he shifted closer to her causing shadow to scurry off the bed.

“i.. i know.. but i can’t help it y/n, i want you.. crave you.” his tone softened as he cupped her face.

her eyes were glossy staring into his as he brushed his nose against hers wanting more.

she did it again.

it was her who pushed her lips to his. moving slowly with rhythm. now it was different again. this time they both felt careless. kian was far back in her mind, ignoring any thoughts of him.

matt was in a rush. he moved in front of her making her lay back. it was like her birthday all over again. he hovered over her between her legs, not asking this time and pulling her hoodie over her body.

he pulled back a little shocked as he scanned her figure in just a bra and panties. pupils enlarged with lust as he felt himself stiffen in his sweatpants.

she was flustered feeling so exposed to him. tugging at his clothing now, begging for his exposure so she wasn’t the only one.

he leaned back and undressed fully.

she was going crazy. he looked down her figure to her clothed heat, glancing back at her glistening eyes as he moved down on the bed. he was positioned between her legs, face above her area.

“can i..?” he asked, warm breath against her thighs as he gripped them.

“mhmm” she hummed eagerly.

he buried his head in her legs leaving kisses and bite marks all over. he slid his finger over her panties feeling her folds through the thin material.

he felt his nerves in his stomach, unsure if he really wanted this. he knew he did, but the thought of her ghosting him for kian raced his mind as he sat there hesitantly.

shadows bell snapped him out of his thoughts as he realized where he was. he knew he had to fall through, this was his only chance.

he hooked his fingers onto the waistband of her underwear, sliding it down her legs painfully slow.

placing them next to her, he moved her legs up spreading them wide.

she was sweating from the anticipation when he used two fingers to spread her folds, dragging his tongue from her entrance to her clit.

he sucked on the sensitive spot gaining a moan from the back of her throat.

“shhh, nick and chris are asleep..” he hushed. “you don’t want me to stop, do you?”

her head shook vigorously as she covered her mouth. he dove back in, continuing his previous actions. she whined behind her hand.

he removed a hand from her leg and sucked on his middle and ring finger before sliding them into her hole. he groaned at how tight she felt just on his fingers.

pushing them in, he licked her clit in circles quickly making her arch her back and roll her eyes. helpless to the whimpers that escaped her vocal cords muffled from her hand.

“‘s so good, baby- fuck” he grumbled against her setting her on edge.

her legs trembled and squeezed his head near suffocating him. she grasped the bed sheets tightly and her mouth flew open with no sound coming out.

he shook his head in a fast motion in between her legs helping her ride out her orgasm.

panting and trying to catch her breath when he came back up to hover over her body and kissed her with her own juices all over his face.

she pushed him away, forcing him to lay on his back and climbing over to straddle him. taking hold of his dick and aligning it with her entrance as he watched with his bottom lip between his teeth.

she sunk down with a whine. his eye brows furrowed at the tightness around his member and groaned.

“holy sh-” he could barley get out as she bounced herself on him.

they tried so hard to be quiet during the whole experience but couldn’t help letting out a few moans here and there. the bed was creaking with her movements. he felt his core heat up while his dick started to tingle with sensation as he lifted his hips harder into her.

he knew it wouldn’t be right to cum inside of her when she was with someone. she wasn’t his after all.

but the way he was feeling he couldn’t stop.

he threw his head back on his pillows letting out shaky breaths and grunts as he emptied his load into her feeling her clench around him.

she slowed her movements after realizing what he’d done. finally climbing off of him and laying down next to him.

it felt.. weird.

not awkward, but not wrong either. matt slowly got up from the bed and into the connected bathroom. she watched as the light flicked on and the sink ran.

he came back out with a white rag in his hand, “open,” he demanded getting closer to her legs as she bent her knees to spread them. he cleaned her up as well as himself.

when he went to toss the rag in his sink, he came back out to see her covered in his sheets fast asleep, shadow already curled up by her chest.

he admired how she looked so peaceful even after the unholy events that just took place.

he joined her carefully in bed, exhaustively forcing himself to fall asleep before he regretted what happened.

“yo, matt have you-” the door to matt’s room busted open as the pair in bed jumped out of their sleep snapping to the commotion. sunlight took over as they realized it was the next day. “y/n?”

chris was stood in the door frame. luckily she was fully covered by the blanket for him to see she was only in her under garments and gain suspicion.

“bro- what! what do you need?!” matt’s voice was mixed with annoyance and fear, a little embarrassed that chris came in the room.

“i was looking for my blue hoodie, but what’s up, y/n?” he seemed concerned at the fact she stayed the night, something she would do with nick when she was going through something.

“yea- i, um-”

“it’s behind the door man- her air wasn’t working in her apartment so i brought her over last night without waking you or nick” matt made up a story shooing chris away.

“ohhh- shadow!” he spotted the gray kitten who was now on the floor after hiding when chris scared them.

“dude- go!” matt shouted, still tired in his voice.

chris scoffed leaving the room when he took his hoodie from the rack behind the door, slamming it shut. he was definitely going to nicks room to tell him y/n was there.

the pair looked to eachother. she looked away to find her phone on the nightstand checking to see the time was past noon.

“shit! i have to go..” she almost tripped over her own feet trying to find her clothes not remembering she showed up in just a hoodie.

“wait- let me give you a ride,” matt insisted.

“it’s fine, um.. kians picking me up..” she tried to whisper but it was loud and clear.

matt’s heart sunk. he didn’t know why, he should’ve expected her to go back to him after this but he wanted so badly for her to just forget him and stay.

he didn’t say anything while she gathered shadow and gave matt a quick hug, something she always did before she left their home, and walked out.

it’s been 6 days. no texts. no calls. not even a post on social media.

he hadn’t heard from her at all. he didn’t wanna intrude either. his heart kept telling him to call her, call her and tell her to just love him, not kian.

but he knew better.

or did he? because he found himself driving to her apartment.

the whole ride he wanted to throw up. he was so nervous and didn’t know why. he pulled up to her complex, seeing the parking spaces in front of her building were empty besides her car that he recognized. it was still early afternoon and people were at work. but there was on car. he payed no mind to it, pulling into the spot next to hers.

he sat in the car a few minutes to collect himself.

mentally hyping himself up and making his way to the door, he pressed the buzzer.

nothing.

he tried again, sure he had the right one.

finally hearing the clicks of the lock, the door slowly creaked open revealing her face.

“oh.. what’s wrong?” her voice was a bit hoarse yet filled with confusion.

“i-i missed you..”

she leaned against the wall, her body came into frame enough for him to see she was wrapped in a blanket. clear that nothing was underneath.

“matt, i’m a little busy-“

“who is it, babe?” a voice echoed in her apartment.

matt wanted to break down when he recognized the voice. it made sense now. the other car was kians.

“you should go..” she whispered. he peered over her head seeing shadow stop in his tracks while walking through the living room and stare at him.

matt nodded. he felt crushed and defeated.

maybe he should just let go.

the finale

“hello?” matt answered a facetime call from his brother.

“heyyy, you good?” chris asked.

him and nick went to a party while matt stayed home.

“yeah i’m fine” he had a little attitude in his voice.

he had a rough week. after he left y/ns apartment, he cried in his room. he couldn’t hold it in anymore. he hated how she loved kian and not him. he wished he wasn’t too late. he wished he told her how he felt before she got with him. then fucking her just made him more attached.

“matt?” nick said through the phone, music blared loudly in the background. he snapped out of it.

“what?”

“i asked if you wanted us to bring you fo- oh look who it is!” nick was interrupted, seen hugging someone in frame. a small girl. oh great it was her.

he wanted to just hang up until chris pointed the phone at her. she turned to see matt on the screen.

she almost punched chris in the arm. she felt disgusting. she knew what she did and she knew it was wrong. she couldn’t stand to see him and it wasn’t his fault.

“hi, matt..” she tried to sound as polite at she could but it came out a bit shallow.

all he did was nod his head in return. seeing she went off with nick, he told chris he was going to sleep and to not bother him before hanging up.

“girl- be quiet, i think matt is sleeping,” nick whisper-yelled. matt could hear him from his room. he ignored it knowing he would probably bring a friend home from the party. he went to back to sleep.

he woke up again. this time feeling hungry.

he didn’t bother checking the time, it was still dark out. he made his way down the hall until he bumped into something hard, jumping when he realized it was a person.

“ow- sorry,” he heard a girly voice from the darkness. a sudden light beamed as she turned on her phone flashlight. it was y/n.

he almost gasped in her face. her eyes went wide.

“i’m sorry, i was just going to pee..” she explained. still standing in front of him.

neither of them moved, just staring at eachother.

he couldn’t take it anymore. he grabbed her waist and pressed her against the wall of the hallway, kissing her passionately.

her arms wrapped around his neck.

why did she keep doing this..

matt dragged her by her hips to his room, pushing her to the bed as he shut the door. she tossed her phone somewhere on the bed, he was already in just his underwear from when he went to sleep so he forcefully removed the shirt she had on that belonged to nick.

he was on top of her now, sucking on her neck sure to leave marks. he was fed up with the games she would play.

this time he didn’t care, he was rough and demanding. “turn around, ass up”

she waited as she contemplated her movements. not for long when he raised his voice, “now!”

she jumped, getting into the position where her bare chest was squished into the mattress. she could feel his fingers roam her area until he pushed two digits into her hole making her gasp.

he smacked her ass while he fingered her, the slippery sounds as she clenched around them. he pulled his hand away and used her juices to coat his dick as a lubricant. he pumped a few times grunting at the wet feeling.

she sat in anticipation until feeling his tip finding its way to her entrance, he slowly pushed in once found.

“matt- please!” she moaned into the sheets.

he smirked and slammed fully into her gaining a moan from both their mouths. the feeling of him in her lower abdomen had her nearly screaming, if it wasn’t for nick and chris being home.

the sound of wet skin slapping against eachother filled the room as matt thrusted into her from the back at a fast pace.

suddenly the sounds of a electric tune caused them both to flinch while her phone lit up indicating a call. she wanted to just ignore it. matt leaned over her body to see who it was as his breath hitched in his throat nearly making him choke on his own saliva.

he seen a photo of y/n and kian cuddled up on the screen along with his name flashing with a heart emoji next to it.

“pick it up.” he demanded. was he insane? maybe just a little. feeling euphoric in the moment he didn’t care if kian found out, he kinda wanted him to.

she ignored him and pushed her hips backward trying to get him to continue but he pulled out fully.

she reached for her phone sliding the call button over.

“hello..” she whispered.

kians voice could be heard over the silent room. “hey- you alright? why do you sound like that?”

matt didn’t know if he was pissed or jealous. probably both as he decided to push back into her while she was on the phone.

she held her breath, “i- i’m just tired-“ she let out while matt was pounding into her. she clicked the mute button on the call.

“oh, how was the party? you’re at the triplets house i see” kian noted as he checked her shared location before calling. he just wanted to check on her and make sure everything was good. nothing was wrong about that but what was wrong is she was being unfaithful on the other line. even worse, she enjoyed it.

clicking to unmute, “mm- it was good- it was good i had fun and yea- i’m here,” she drew out trying not to sound too wasted in matt.

she felt her core growing tighter with each blow knowing she was close. she hit mute before his next line.

matt grew impatient, gripping her ass intensely digging his nails in making her whimper, “tell him, y/n”

something about his words made her feral, her eyes rolling back.

“that’s good. i’m glad you have such good friends that’ll take care of you,” kian spoke. oh they took care of her that’s for sure.

“tell him” matt repeated in a more demanding tone, “tell him how good i make you feel”

still thrusting into her, she couldn’t take it much longer feeling the knot about to snap inside of her.

“you there?” kian asked with a yawn.

she unmuted finally, “yes! yes- i’m sorry- i’m so- so tired” stuttering while holding back moans.

“alright i’ll let you go, i love you”

she almost didn’t make her words out in time, “i love you too” hanging up immediately as her orgasm washed over, making her moan loudly and tremble beneath his touch.

he did the same, pulling out right before his load spurted out on her back and ass, dripping down her legs. they both were panting and sweating.

neither of them moved.

“i’m sorry..” her voice cracked with each syllable, “but i can’t..”

this took me way too long to write bc i kept putting it off LMAO

to be continued..

sequel

[wonyqt]

TOO BAD FOR US

summary at a frat party, you watch jungkook let naeun flirt with him, jealousy boiling over into a fight outside. he pulls you back in with possessive words and empty promises, and despite knowing better, you let him. the cycle repeats—love, pain, and a bond that destroys you both.

pairing toxic bf jungkook x toxic gf (f) reader

disclaimer this is my first time writing, so please be kind! i’m still learning and open to constructive feedback. hope you enjoy the story!

he’s leaning against the kitchen counter, one hand wrapped around a red cup, the other shoved into the pocket of his jeans. his jaw tightens as he listens to something jimin is saying, but you barely register their conversation.

because standing way too close to him, twirling a strand of hair between her fingers, is naeun.

your blood runs hot. it’s always her.

she laughs at something—something jungkook says. it’s not even funny. you know because you know him, and he doesn’t make jokes for people like her.

yet he doesn’t pull away.

your grip tightens around your own drink, fingers digging into the plastic as sua leans in close. “you’re going to kill someone with that glare,” she murmurs into your ear.

“she’s pathetic,” hyerin chimes in, popping a piece of gum between her teeth. “always throwing herself at him.”

you inhale sharply, telling yourself to look away. to let it go. but you can’t. because jungkook is yours.

and he shouldn’t be letting her throw herself at him like that.

before you know it, your feet are moving. the crowd parts for you like they can sense the storm brewing under your skin. when you reach jungkook, you slide a hand up his arm, nails pressing just hard enough to remind him who he belongs to.

“hey, baby,” you say sweetly, tilting your head.

jungkook glances down at you, his expression unreadable. “you good?”

you aren’t. not when naeun is still standing there, smirking like she knows exactly what she’s doing.

“hi, y/n,” she says, feigning innocence. “i was just telling jungkook about—”

“i don’t care,” you cut her off, smiling through clenched teeth.

jungkook exhales, shifting his weight. “y/n, don’t start.”

“are you seriously defending her right now?” your voice wavers, but your grip on him only tightens.

naeun hums, folding her arms. “it’s not that deep. we were just talking.”

you let out a sharp laugh. “right. because you always ‘just talk’ to guys in relationships.”

the tension is suffocating now. jimin and taehyung exchange wary glances, while sua and hyerin stand behind you. but none of it matters. because all you care about is him.

and he isn’t saying anything.

jungkook runs a hand through his hair, jaw clenching. “you’re making a scene,” he mutters under his breath.

something in your chest cracks.

a scene. that’s what he thinks this is. not a betrayal, not a violation of the trust you’ve given him—just an inconvenience.

your hands tremble as you step back, blinking away the sting behind your eyes. “you know what, jungkook?” a bitter smile curling at your lips. “go ahead. talk to her. flirt with her. hell, take her home for all i care.”

he looks at you then, really looks at you. but you don’t wait for a response.

because you’re already walking away.

how could he do that? how could he just stand there and let her—

“y/n!”

you don’t have to turn around to know it’s him. you can recognize jungkook’s voice anywhere—low, rough, and laced with frustration.

you swallow hard, but your pride won’t let you stop.

“y/n, stop.”

before you can take another step, a strong hand grips your wrist, spinning you around. the moment you’re face to face, your resolve wavers. his dark eyes burn into yours, his breathing uneven, like he ran after you.

like he cares.

“let me go,” you mutter, trying to yank your arm away.

jungkook doesn’t. instead, he steps closer, the scent of his cologne and alcohol wrapping around you like a drug. “what the hell was that?” his voice is controlled, but there’s an edge to it.

you let out a sharp laugh, shaking your head. “are you seriously asking me that?”

“you embarrassed me,” he bites out, eyes flashing.

your stomach twists. “i embarrassed you?” your voice rises. “maybe you should’ve thought about that before letting her hang all over you.”

jungkook’s jaw tightens. “i didn’t do anything.”

“that’s the problem!” the words spill out before you can stop them. “you never do anything, jungkook. you just stand there and let her act like i don’t exist.”

his grip on your wrist loosens slightly, but he doesn’t let go. “you’re overreacting.”

and that’s what does it. the casual dismissal, the way he makes you feel like you’re crazy for wanting something as simple as respect.

you exhale shakily, blinking up at him. “i hate you.”

the words come out soft, barely above a whisper. but they shake something between you.

jungkook flinches, his lips parting slightly like he wasn’t expecting that. like he doesn’t realize how much he’s hurt you.

but then, something shifts. his fingers tighten around your wrist again, pulling you closer. and just like that, the anger in his eyes turns into something else—something darker.

possessiveness.

“you don’t,” he murmurs, his voice lower now, almost gentle. “you could never hate me.”

and the worst part? he’s right.

because no matter how much he breaks you, no matter how many times he makes you feel like nothing, you always come back.

always.

a shaky breath escapes your lips as he leans in, his forehead brushing against yours. “i’m yours,” he whispers. “you know that, right?”

still, when his lips press against yours, you don’t pull away.

because you’re his too. even if it destroys you.

his lips move against yours with desperation, like he’s trying to erase everything that just happened—erase the fight, the jealousy, the pain. and like always, you let him.

because this is what you do.

your fingers curl into his hoodie, pulling him closer, as if closing the space between you will somehow fill the void in your chest. his hands slip around your waist, gripping you tight—too tight, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go. but you never do.

you never will.

when he finally pulls away, his forehead stays pressed against yours, his breath warm against your lips. “i don’t want anyone else,” he murmurs.

you swallow hard, your hands still trembling from the anger that hasn’t fully faded. “then act like it.”

his jaw clenches, but he nods, brushing his thumb against your cheek. “i will.”

and you believe him. because you always do.

the door to the frat house swings open, laughter spilling into the night air. you glance over jungkook’s shoulder and see naeun stepping out, her eyes locking onto yours for a fraction of a second before she smirks and walks away.

your stomach knots.

jungkook notices. “hey,” he murmurs, tilting your chin back to face him. “don’t.”

but how can you not? how can you not feel the doubt, the insecurity, the constant fear that no matter what he says, he’ll never be yours the way you want him to be?

still, you nod, forcing a smile. “okay.”

his lips brush against your forehead, lingering for just a moment before he pulls away. “come back inside?”

you know you should say no. that you should walk away, let the night end with some semblance of dignity. but when he looks at you like that—like you’re the only thing keeping him tethered to reality—you can’t.

so you take his hand.

and just like that, the cycle resets.

because no matter how much he hurts you, no matter how many times you swear it’s the last, you know the truth.

you’ll always choose him.

even if it destroys you.

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Charmed in Monte Carlo

Word count: 1.2k

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Summary: During a solo vacation to Monaco, Y/n's evening at the Monte Carlo Casino takes an unexpected turn when a mysterious flirtation leads to a charming and playful encounter

______________________________________________________________

Y/n had been planning this solo trip to Monaco for years. No one had ever been available to join her, but this time, she wasn’t going to let that stop her. She booked the trip, packed her suitcase with the finest summer outfits, and hopped on a plane to the luxurious city she had long dreamed of.

When she arrived, the bright Mediterranean sun greeted her, casting a golden hue over the pristine streets and sparkling water. Y/n immediately felt at peace, like she’d made the right decision to come here on her own. The first few days passed in a blissful blur of exploration. She strolled through Monaco's elegant boulevards, shopped at chic boutiques, dined in gourmet restaurants, and sat at sun-soaked cafés, content to people-watch as life unfolded around her.

Each café stop became its own little adventure. She sipped espresso in Le Café de Paris while tourists flocked to the nearby casino, and at a quieter spot near Port Hercules, she watched as yachts sailed in, glittering against the sapphire waters. She couldn’t help but imagine the lives of the people who owned them—what their stories were, how they spent their days. There was something about Monaco, the intersection of old-world charm and modern luxury, that felt intoxicating.

On her fourth evening in Monaco, she decided to visit the famous Monte Carlo Casino, the ultimate symbol of the city’s elegance and charm. This was the part of the trip she had been most excited about. She wanted to experience the casino’s history, glamour, and its opulence firsthand, even if she wasn’t much of a gambler.

Dressed in a sleek, fitted black dress with a plunging neckline that showed off just enough to be intriguing, she felt a surge of confidence. She paired it with strappy heels and a bold red lip, knowing she looked good but not caring if anyone else noticed. This trip was for her, after all.

The casino’s entrance was grand, with an air of exclusivity, but Y/n walked in as if she belonged there. Inside, the crystal chandeliers sparkled like diamonds, and the floor was abuzz with the sound of laughter, the clatter of chips, and the whirl of roulette wheels. Y/n’s breath caught in her throat for a moment, taking in the sight of it all. The grandeur was even more overwhelming than she had imagined.

Not wanting to jump straight into the gaming tables, she headed to the bar and ordered a cocktail—a French 75 to match the elegance of the night. She found a spot by the side, leaning against a pillar, the perfect vantage point to indulge in her favorite pastime: people-watching. From her spot, she observed glamorous couples dressed to the nines, elegant women draped in couture, and men in sharp tuxedos throwing around bets like they were nothing. It was fascinating.

"Looks like someone’s lost in thought," a smooth, amused voice said from behind her, startling her slightly. She didn’t turn around, deciding to play along.

"Is it that obvious?" she replied, taking another sip of her drink, a slight smile tugging at her lips.

"Only because you’re doing that classic lean against the pillar, drink in hand, gazing out like you’re in a Bond film," the voice continued, warm and teasing. "All you’re missing is a tuxedoed guy with a bad poker hand."

Y/n chuckled, keeping her gaze fixed ahead. "Are you volunteering for the role?"

There was a brief pause, then the man behind her laughed, the sound rich and genuine. "Not unless you’re looking for someone to dramatically lose all his money at blackjack. Though, I’m better company than most Bond villains."

"Confident, aren’t we?" she mused, entertained by his playful banter but still not turning to face him.

"Confidence is key, or so they say," he responded smoothly. "Besides, I couldn’t help but notice you standing here, looking like you belong in a movie yourself."

Y/n raised her glass to her lips, hiding her smile. Whoever this was, he was good—too good. The kind of flirtation that felt practiced but was enjoyable nonetheless. "A movie, huh? Does that mean you’re the mysterious stranger who makes me an offer I can’t refuse?"

"Something like that," the voice agreed, now sounding closer, almost as if he’d shifted behind her. "Though, I’d settle for a laugh and your company over a drink."

"Well, you’ve managed to get me to laugh already," Y/n replied, feeling a warmth in her chest that had nothing to do with her drink. She glanced sideways but still didn’t turn around, enjoying the anonymity of their conversation.

"I’d call that a win," he said, clearly smiling now. "Do I get a bonus if I keep you laughing?"

"Maybe," she teased. "But it depends on how good you are at keeping the mystery alive."

"Oh, I’m very good at keeping secrets," he said, his tone dropping playfully. "But I’ll let you in on one: I’m not usually this charming. I’m just trying to impress the most captivating person in the room."

Y/n snorted softly. "You’re laying it on thick now."

"Hey, if it works, I won’t apologize."

They went back and forth like that, the conversation flowing so naturally it felt like they’d known each other for ages. Y/n was curious but also didn’t want to break the spell by turning around. Whoever he was, he was making her laugh, and she liked the mystery of it all.

Eventually, though, her curiosity got the better of her. After yet another playful jab from the man behind her, she finally turned around, ready to face the charming stranger.

Her breath hitched when she saw who it was.

"Lando Norris?" she blurted, her eyes widening in disbelief.

The British Formula 1 driver stood there, leaning casually against the bar, a cheeky grin spreading across his face. "In the flesh," he said, raising an eyebrow. "You weren’t expecting me, were you?"

Y/n stared for a second, still processing the fact that one of the most famous young drivers in the world had been flirting with her for the past ten minutes. "I… definitely wasn’t," she admitted, her surprise morphing into laughter.

"Well, I’m glad I could provide some shock value," Lando teased, clearly enjoying her reaction. "But if it helps, I was enjoying being the mysterious guy behind you. You know, no fame, no racing cars—just a guy in a casino."

She shook her head, still smiling. "And here I thought I was just talking to some regular guy trying his hand at flirting."

Lando’s grin widened. "Oh, I am definitely trying my hand at flirting. Famous or not, that part’s all me."

Y/n laughed again, this time more relaxed. "Well, you’re doing a pretty good job. I’ll give you that."

"Only pretty good?" Lando raised his eyebrows in mock offense. "I was hoping for at least 'very good.'"

"Let’s just say the jury’s still out," she teased back, feeling a lightness in the air between them.

Lando tilted his head, considering her words. "Alright, fair enough. But how about I buy you another drink, and we’ll see if I can sway the jury in my favor?"

Y/n smirked, raising her glass. "You’ve got yourself a deal, Mr. Norris."

[poiibbtt]

The Space Between Us

Pairing: Howl Pendragon x Reader (You)

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Word Count: -2,500 words

Synopsis: After feeling like an outsider in Howl’s castle, you decide to leave and start a new life elsewhere. When Howl finds you after weeks of searching, unresolved feelings and deep conversations arise, forcing you to choose between your new life and the one you left behind.

The atmosphere in the castle had shifted. At first, it was subtle—small things you could shrug off. But as days passed, the feeling of being on the outside grew heavier.

Calcifer’s crackling laughter filled the hearth as he teased Markl about some spell gone wrong, their playful banter echoing through the kitchen. Sophie would often flit in and out, her smile bright as she checked on Howl or helped Markl with his studies. Everything seemed to fit perfectly—like they had become this seamless family. And then, there was you, standing in the corner, watching it all unfold.

You stirred the soup absentmindedly, your mind miles away. Every laugh that wasn’t shared with you, every whispered conversation you weren’t part of, felt like another wall going up between you and them. It was a ridiculous feeling—this was their home, and you had chosen to be here. But lately, it felt like you were nothing more than a guest overstaying your welcome.

You wanted to join in, to feel like you belonged, but every time you opened your mouth, you felt out of place. It seemed so effortless for them. Howl and Sophie had a natural rhythm, their bond evident in the smallest gestures. Calcifer adored Sophie, and Markl looked up to Howl as if he were his world. Where did that leave you?

In the kitchen, the feeling of distance only grew. You caught the way Howl looked at Sophie—there was a fondness there, but not in the way that cut deeply. No, that wasn’t the source of your jealousy. It was the way he gravitated toward her, how easily they laughed together, how it felt like they shared a world you weren’t a part of. You were simply… there.

There was no resolution that night. No sudden gesture or words of comfort from Howl or anyone else. The tension in your chest remained as you ate in silence, your thoughts louder than any conversation happening at the table. As the evening went on, you excused yourself early, retreating to your room with a heaviness that refused to lift.

That’s when the idea started to form—leaving. It wasn’t impulsive; it had been brewing in your mind for some time now. You were tired of feeling like an outsider in the place that was supposed to be your home.

One night, when everyone was asleep, you began packing in silence. Your hands shook slightly as you folded your clothes, but your heart was resolute. You couldn’t stay here any longer. The moving castle wasn’t where you belonged. Not anymore.

Calcifer had been suspicious for days, his flames dimming every time you walked by. He’d asked if you were alright, but you only smiled at him, saying you were fine. But now, as your bag was halfway full, Calcifer noticed. His flames flickered in a nervous dance.

"You’re really going to leave, aren’t you?" His voice crackled quietly, barely more than a whisper of fire.

You paused, feeling guilt twist in your gut. "It’s better this way, Calcifer. I don’t belong here anymore."

"That’s not true," he protested, his flames flaring brighter. "You’re part of this place, part of us."

You shook your head, not trusting yourself to speak. If you stayed a moment longer, you’d break. You’d crumble under the weight of their kindness and the hope that things could somehow go back to how they were before Sophie arrived.

Markl must have overheard the quiet exchange, for suddenly, there was a knock on your door, and his small figure appeared in the doorway, his wide eyes filled with hurt. "Y/N… don’t go."

Tears pricked at the back of your eyes, but you forced a smile. "I have to, Markl. You’re all going to be okay without me."

"But I’m not okay without you," he argued, his voice cracking with emotion.

You crossed the room and knelt down, cupping his face with one hand. "You’ll be fine, Markl. Howl and Sophie… they’ll take care of you."

He didn’t look convinced, and his lower lip trembled. "What about you? Who’s going to take care of you?"

That nearly broke you, but you swallowed the lump in your throat and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. "I’ll be alright. I promise."

The next morning, you were gone.

Calcifer and Markl felt it immediately—the absence was like a gaping hole in the castle. When Howl and Sophie woke to find your room empty, an eerie silence settled over them all. Howl was the first to speak, his voice low and filled with disbelief.

"She’s gone," he murmured, his hand clenched tightly around the back of a chair. "Why didn’t I see it coming?"

Markl’s tears spilled over, and Calcifer’s flames dimmed with guilt, both of them feeling as if they had somehow failed to stop you.

Howl’s usual calm was nowhere to be found as he paced the length of the room, his frustration mounting. "Why didn’t she say anything?"

Sophie stood quietly, her eyes soft with understanding. She didn’t need to say anything. She knew the quiet hurt that had been growing in you for weeks.

"I’ll find her," Howl said, his voice hard with determination. "I’ll bring her back."

Without waiting for an answer, Howl set out, Markl at his side, the two of them scouring the nearby towns. Days turned into weeks with no sign of you. It was as if you had vanished without a trace.

Howl’s heart slammed in his chest as he neared the entrance of the small, homely restaurant. He had been searching for so long that he almost couldn’t believe it when he saw you standing there, your hair tied back in a loose bun, an apron slung over your shoulders. The morning fog drifted lazily around the quiet town, but all he could focus on was you.

There you were—alive and seemingly content.

He stepped forward, his breath caught in his throat. You turned around at the sound of his approach, and your eyes met his. For a brief second, the world around you both seemed to blur, leaving only the two of you.

"Y/N..." His voice was soft, filled with a mixture of disbelief and relief.

You froze, your chest tightening as you took in the sight of him. Howl, disheveled and tired, his eyes searching yours with a vulnerability you rarely saw from him. It was clear that he had been looking for you for a long time, but you didn’t move. You didn’t speak. You simply stared at him, your heart conflicted between the life you had built and the one you had left behind.

"You found me," you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Howl stepped closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "I never stopped looking."

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The tension between you was palpable, and you could feel your heart race as his presence stirred old feelings you had tried to bury.

"Why did you leave?" Howl’s voice cracked with emotion, his expression raw. "You didn’t even give me a chance to—"

"Because I didn’t belong there," you interrupted, your tone sharper than you intended. "Everyone fit together so perfectly—Sophie, Markl, even Calcifer. They all have their place with you. But me? I was just... there. Watching from the sidelines."

Howl frowned, his brows furrowing in confusion. "You were never just watching, Y/N. You’ve always been part of us. I never meant to—"

"You never meant to," you repeated with a bitter laugh, stepping back from him. "I know. But it doesn’t change the fact that I felt like I was slowly disappearing in that castle. You and Sophie… you two—"

Howl’s eyes widened as he quickly shook his head. "It’s not like that. Sophie and I—she’s not—"

"Stop," you said, holding up your hand to cut him off. "I’m not asking for an explanation. I’m not blaming her either. But I saw how well she fit into your life, into the castle, into everything you and Markl and Calcifer had built. And I just… didn’t."

The words hurt to say out loud, but it was the truth you had been holding onto for so long. The truth that made you leave.

Howl took another step forward, his hand reaching for yours, but you pulled back before he could touch you. His face fell, frustration and helplessness washing over him. "Please. Come back with me. We can fix this."

You shook your head, your heart clenching painfully. "I can’t, Howl. I can’t go back to feeling like I’m always on the outside, like I’m always chasing after something that’s just out of reach."

He looked at you, eyes pleading. "But I need you. I didn’t realize how much until you were gone. You belong with us—with me."

Your chest tightened at his words, but you forced yourself to stay firm. "You don’t need me, Howl. You have Sophie. You have your family."

Howl’s frustration bubbled to the surface as he ran a hand through his messy hair, his voice strained. "This isn’t about Sophie. It’s about us. It’s about what I want. And I want you to come home."

His words struck a chord in you, but you were resolute. Home. That word didn’t mean the same thing to you anymore. This restaurant, this small town—it was starting to feel more like home than the castle ever had. Here, you were your own person. You were building a life for yourself that didn’t revolve around fitting into someone else’s world.

"I am home," you said softly, your eyes locking with his. "I’ve found something here, Howl. I’ve found something that’s mine."

He stared at you, disbelief and hurt clouding his expression. "So, that’s it? You’re choosing this place over us? Over me?"

Your heart ached at the pain in his voice, but you held your ground. "I’m choosing what’s best for me. And right now, that means staying here."

For a long moment, Howl stood in silence, his face a mixture of anger, confusion, and something deeper—something that mirrored the ache in your own heart.

He looked like he wanted to argue, to say something that would change your mind. But he didn’t. He didn’t have the words. Instead, he let out a sharp breath and took a step back, the distance between you feeling wider than ever.

"Fine," he muttered, his jaw tight. "But don’t expect me to stop trying."

You watched as he turned on his heel, his cloak billowing behind him as he walked away, disappearing into the morning fog. The weight of his absence settled heavily in your chest, but you didn’t chase after him.

This time, you were choosing yourself.

Days passed, and though Howl’s visit haunted your thoughts, you carried on with your life in the town. The restaurant became your sanctuary, and the steady rhythm of your days provided a comfort you hadn’t realized you needed. You had carved out a space for yourself here, and while there were moments of doubt, you knew in your heart that you had made the right decision.

Calcifer’s warmth and Markl’s laughter still echoed in your memories, but they felt distant now—like a past you had gently set aside.

And then, every so often, when you least expected it, you would catch sight of a familiar shadow in the distance. You would feel the pull of magic in the air—the faintest trace of Howl’s presence lingering, watching from afar.

But he didn’t come any closer.

And neither did you.

You both had made your choices.

[minnophee-writes]

Right Where You Were Meant To Be

Fandom: Avengers [Marvel]

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Plus-size Reader

Summary: The reader has a crush on Bucky the second she looked at him but she also has feelings of self-consciousness about her body and doubts she’d ever end up with Bucky or any guy like Bucky. That all changes one night at one of Tony’s parties.

Word Count: 2,760 words

A/N: This is a cute little one-shot idea I had and just wanted to write out. I feel there aren’t many plus-size!reader stories so I wanted to make my own. I’m a chubby girl and felt like I needed some love, lmao. Any mistakes I take responsibility for, this story wasn’t beta read, so I apologize for any mistakes. I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!!! <3 <3 <3 [edit: this is an old fanfic lol]

It all started when you looked at him for the first time. He had just moved into the Tower, and you had just gotten the job as Tony's new assistant since Pepper had become CEO of Stark Industries. Because you worked in an environment with superheroes who were very fit and healthy, you had become self-conscious of yourself; whether it would be what you wore, the things you ate, or just how your body looked in general.

Being a bigger girl, it often took a toll on your mental health when you would notice the glances, the whispering, the judgmental stares, and how shopping for clothes in your size was difficult, and it made you feel like you had to lose weight to fit in and belong. You felt alone and isolated.

You didn't have any friends; you didn't even talk to many of your co-workers, and just kept to yourself a majority of the time. When Bucky moved in, you noticed he did the same. He didn't speak much to the rest of the team, he mostly stayed in his room, and only hung around Steve. Bucky was very fit, and his muscular body showed it whenever he wore tight-fitted clothing. You would never wear tight-fitted clothing for fear of having your plumpness accentuated.

After five months working for Tony and having a more friendly relationship with the rest of the team, you had built a few close bonds with some of the heroes. Wanda and Natasha were your closest girlfriends and would regularly have 'Lady's Nights' every Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. Tony, Clint, Sam, and Steve were like your older brothers and would look out for you.

You and Steve made it a routine to do small exercise and yoga in the afternoons just after 4 o'clock. How this all started was because you wanted to accomplish small goals for yourself, as Sam told you to do to help with your mental health.

"Steve," You called out as you stepped into the Tower's gym, the one place you knew where to find Steve if he wasn't in the common room.

"Oh, hey (Y/N)! What's up?" Steve turned to face you as he held the punching bag still while he watched you walk closer to him, noticing you fidgeting with your fingers nervously.

"I just... I wanted to start doing light exercises, you know, to boost my endorphins, and so I have something to do in the afternoons when I've finished with work." It wasn't a complete lie, but it just sugar-coated the fact that you just wanted to lose weight to gain confidence in yourself.

Steve had agreed to help you; he wouldn't push you too much either because he didn't want you to strain anything and not push you out of your comfort zone too much. Both of you would exercise for an hour each day in the afternoons. This routine had been going on for six weeks, and you were enjoying it. You felt better about yourself each week when you would check your progress and write down how much you lost during the week; you were more confident than you were all those weeks ago before asking Steve for help.

During one of those afternoon exercises, you and Steve were both in the Adho Mukha pose with Steve wearing his usual tight t-shirt, that you swore was a size too small, and shorts while you wore a loose, black tank top, and tight-fitted leggings that complemented the shape of your plump ass. You were so in the zone that you hadn't heard the gym doors open and the sound of footsteps coming closer to you. Bucky stood behind you and Steve, him getting an eyeful of your butt while he cleared his throat to catch his best friend's attention.

"Hey, Bucky! I didn't notice you were there. (Y/N) and I were doing some yoga, would you like to join us?"

You. Were. Mortified. You quickly stood up beside Steve and looked down at your feet, trying to avoid looking at Bucky after having your ass practically in his face.

"Uh, I kinda have to get ready for 'Girl's Night' tonight, but I think Bucky can keep you company." You nervously spoke, having your words jumble out quickly due to your inner-embarrassment. "I'll see you later, Steve!"

You bolted out of the gym as fast as your legs could go and made it up into your room without another incident. When you flopped onto your bed, you let out a loud, exhausted sigh before closing your eyes shut tightly. 'Why did I have to act like a nervous wreck? You didn't even let him talk for Christ's sake!' After beating yourself up over the little incident, you started to get ready for 'Girl's Night' with Nat and Wanda.

~~~~~~

It was two hours into 'Girl's Night' and you, Nat and Wanda had, at least, drank four glasses of Kraken Rum and about three shots of Vodka. You were more relaxed and carefree, enjoying your time with your best friends while gossiping about an episode of Criminal Minds you all saw the other day together.

"Not gonna lie, I would love to have a man like Morgan. Have you seen his muscles? And how he kicks down doors like a badass?" You gushed.

"That is true, and I fully believe Morgan and Garcia should be together. They have chemistry and look so cute!" Wanda loved her Morgan and Garcia ship.

"Eh, I like to have a super cute genius but that's just my opinion" Nat took a sip of her fruity vodka drink while shrugging her shoulders.

"Of course you would, you're with Bruce and that's a little bias, Nat." You gently shoved your red-haired friend playfully.

You and Wanda giggled like school girls when Natasha scoffed before she pointed an accusing finger at you.

"Well, says you, (Y/N)! You practically drool whenever you see Barnes."

That shut you up quickly. 'How does she know?! Play it off...'

"That's very funny Nat, but I don't know what you mean."

"Don't bullshit me, (Y/N). I've seen the way your cheeks get all pink and how your eyes are glued to him whenever he walks by. You're so smitten it's grossly cute." Then Wanda turned to you with a small smirk on her face.

"Maybe you should ask him to work out with you and Steve!"

Flashbacks of your embarrassment earlier that day made your face go pale. 'Absolutely not'. You shook your head furiously, staring at your two friends with fear. There was no way you'd have the guts to do such a thing, not after how you acted around him before. Plus, you didn't want him to look at you with disgust when he looks at you working out. You shake off all the negative thoughts before finishing off your last bits of rum.

"I think I'm going to head off to bed now, gotta wake up early tomorrow. Tony wants me to help him organize and plan a gala party to celebrate his newest project. And when I say to 'help him' I mean I'll be doing most of the work while he hides away in his lab with Bruce." You said before walking off and waving the girls goodbye.

2 weeks later...

You had most of the gala planned out. You had booked a cute catering company to organize some food dishes for everyone and even hired a group of people to decorate one of the large common rooms that would fit all the guests on Tony's guest-list. You had even bought a cute new dress to wear for the party. The party was starting that night at 7:30 and you would hopefully get everything done while having an hour and a half to spare to get ready.

When the decorating and planning finished, you quickly made your way to your room and got showered and changed. You stood in front of your mirror for quite some time, nitpicking every flaw you could see, judging your appearance because you knew how the other women at the party were going to look flawless and have every man swooping in for them. A sudden knock on your door snapped you out of your negative thoughts.

"(Y/n), you ready?" Wanda's voice called from the other side.

"Y-yeah! I'm coming now." You dashed for the door to get away from the mirror so you can't put yourself down even more. Once opening the door, Wanda linked your arm with hers, and both of you walked toward the elevator.

Telling FRIDAY which floor, you both arrived just as a few of the guests were mingling around; drinking, eating, and chatting. You glanced around, hoping to see the familiar faces of your friends, spotting Sam, Nat, and Clint near the bar where Natasha was serving the drinks. Tony was standing next to Pepper and being an absolute flirt as always while Steve and Bucky were standing near a corner with drinks in hand. Before you could make your way over to the bar, Wanda told you to wait where you were while she goes to quickly touch up her make-up, disappearing before you could say a word. You stood there awkwardly and looked around, making sure everything was going swimmingly until you felt a presence behind you. A tap on your confirmed that someone was indeed behind you.

You turned around to see a group of two slender women and three muscular men staring at you with smug and cocky smiles on their faces.

"Can we get some more drinks? And make them with a little more alcohol this time." One of the men quirked an eyebrow, waiting for you to scurry off to grab their drinks.

"I'm sorry, but I'm not part of catering. I'm-"

"You certainly look it though, I mean, you're not dressed like you're here as a guest. The dress you're wearing looks like the other catering staff." A woman spat, her eyes narrowed at you. You started to feel self-conscious about your outfit now, realizing the color-scheme looked very similar to the catering staff.

"Plus, the dress isn't that flattering for your body hun. We can practically see your muffin top and panty lines with how tight that dress is on you." The other woman commented while she leaned to the side to glance at more of your plush figure.

A stinging sensation began to appear behind your eyes, feelings of doubt, and an anxiety attack began to make themselves known. So looked away from the group and quickly made for the elevator, shooting Wanda a quick text saying you weren't feeling too well. 'How stupid of me to think I even looked good or that I could fit in at the party.' By the time the elevator doors reached your floor and the doors opened, hot tears were falling down your cheeks as you tried to furiously wipe them away with zero results. The tears kept flowing down as you began to walk down the hallway to your room; quiet footsteps barely making noise as they followed you. Just as your hand settled on the door handle, a warm hand clasped onto your shoulder gently. With a yelp, you spun around with a jump to look at your "attacker", only to find a pair of stormy blue eyes staring at your teary eyes intensely.

Bucky's eyes held hints of concern and worry, but it was hard to see because he was good at hiding his emotions, and the fact that your eyes were blurry from crying.

"You okay, (Y/n)? I saw you leave the party quickly and noticed how fast your breathing was." Bucky had to look down at you because he was so tall, or was it because you were just very short?

"I'm fine, Bucky. I just don't do well in crowded places or with so many strangers. I got a bit overwhelmed but it's fine now." You weakly smiled but he could see right through it, he always did.

"You had a panic attack after speaking to a group of people and judging by the looks they gave you while talking to them, I can only believe it wasn't a pleasant conversation." Bucky then brought both his flesh and metal hands to cup your face while he peered into your eyes more. "Tell me what happened, doll."

You sighed, you knew he wasn't going to let this go. Even though you both barely spoke to each other, he still cared for you like the both of you knew each other for years. Something about his calm voice and caring nature helped your nerves settle.

"They thought I was part of catering and asked if I could get them more drinks. I told them I wasn't catering, only for them to make snarky comments about my outfit and body. But it's fine, I'm used to having those comments made to me, I've dealt with those types of people all my life." Your hands gently held his and tried to move them away from your face but Bucky didn't budge.

"You don't believe them, right? I mean, I think the dress looks good on you. It shows off your curves and any man who doesn't get blown away is blind."

You gave a humorless laugh and shook your head at Bucky, looking down at the floor.

"You're just saying that to be nice to me, Buck. We both know girls like me don't belong in a place like this, or a party like that. You can go back to the party, I don't want to waste more of your time." You went to turn away when Bucky held your upper arms tightly.

"Not a chance, doll. I'm not a fan of crowds myself and was about to leave the party myself until I saw you run away. I'd rather spend my time with you and making sure you don't ever think that you don't belong."

You both stared at each other for a few seconds, his stare was intense with adoration and love while you stared at him in shock that he'd want to spend time with you. Before you could blink, Bucky leaned down and you felt his soft lips on yours, his arms wrapping around you and caging you into a warm and gentle embrace. Your hands rested onto his firm chest while his hands rested on your lower back, just above your butt. At first, you were in shock but then you gave in to the kiss and snaked your arms around his neck, your fingers embedded into his long hair.

The kiss was full of passion, and so much love that you didn't think it was possible. When the need for air was too much, you both separated and looked into each other's eyes once again.

"H-how? Why me? We barely know each other!"

"Because, (Y/n), I've been smitten for you since I first laid eyes on you but didn't have the guts to tell you. Steve's been a punk and trying to get me to join your work out sessions for weeks but I was too nervous to do it." Bucky's cheeks tinted red as he chuckled.

"And why's that? I was scared that if saw me working out, that you'd be grossed out by my body." You explained, chewing on your bottom lip.

"I could never be grossed out, sweetheart. I love a woman with curves and plumpness to her. I was nervous that if I watched you work out, I would try to make a move on you too fast and scare you away. I didn't want that to happen." Bucky grabbed your chin and leaned in again, his lips almost touching yours. "And you looked downright sexy in those tights, they shape your ass well."

You gasped and lightly smacked his shoulder while he smirked at you. His playfulness coming through. You made the first move this time and got onto your tippy toes to kiss him. It was quicker than the first but still held the same emotions. With so much strength you underestimated he had, Bucky lifted you up - your legs wrapped around his waist - as he opened your door and carried you over to your bedroom. Both of you watched a bunch of movies in your room; many kisses were shared before you both passed out, cuddled up under your fluffy blankets, safe in Bucky's arms. 

Right where you were meant to be all along.

[auras-moonstone]

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ don’t blame me for what you made me do

ᡣ𐭩 word count: 1.6K

ᡣ𐭩 pairing: gf!ethan landry x gf!fem!carpenter!reader

ᡣ𐭩 summary: y/n is finally able to get revenge on her sisters when the bailey family reaches out to her to ask her to join the plan.

ᡣ𐭩 contents/warnings: implied character death. murder. family issues. bonding over shared issues. fluff.

ᡣ𐭩 author’s note: on sunday it was scream 6’s anniversary and it made me miss that era sm😫 the fandom is so dead, especially the ethan/jack one.

y/n had always felt like an outsider in her own family. her mom’s favorites had always been sam and tara. and y/n went under her radar, the curse of the middle child, they say. and then there were her sisters, who she was also not very close with. despite having only one year difference with tara, the youngest sibling had a better relationship with sam, so y/n was also left alone in the sibling department. she only had her dad, who used to be her entire world until he packed his bags and left her behind. and it was all because of sam carpenter.

revenge is a dish best served cold, they say. and after years of waiting, the opportunity came to y/n. it actually knocked on the door of her new apartment in new york city.

“um, hello? can i help you?” the girl asked confused, seeing three strangers standing before her. one was a man around his forties, then there was a tall boy with curly hair and a red-haired girl with green eyes.

“hi, y/n carpenter, right?” the man said.

“yeah… do i know you?” y/n asked, a tad creeped out.

“no, but you knew my son, richie.”

richie, the man who used to date sam and then try to kill her. the man who tied y/n up and hid her in a closet, telling her she was going to be okay. murdering her was never in richie’s plan, and it still confused the hell out of her.

y/n’s eyes widened. “yes. i’m really sorry about what happened.”

“thank you.” the man gave her a small smile. “my name is wayne bailey, these are my children, quinn and ethan.” his two kids waved at her and she smiled in response. “do you think we could talk for a few minutes? i have something to say that might interest you.”

she reluctantly let them in, and wayne started telling her about what richie told them. how he noticed the tension between her and her sisters, how he could see the resentment in her eyes everytime she looked at sam, how sometimes they became murderous too.

“i don’t know what to tell you… what’s this all about? why are you here?”

“you see, y/n, your sister murdered my son. the light of my life, and i want her to pay. and by what richie told me, i think that’s what you want too.”

that captured her interest. “sam is the reason my dad—the only person i was close with in that damn family—left. so, whatever you have planned, count me in.”

“are you okay?” y/n asked ethan, who looked very deep in thought as they entered the dorms building. they had just came from a meeting at wayne’s house, and ethan had been dead silent the whole way back home.

“i just… aren’t you scared? that things won’t work out and we might end like every other ghostface?” ethan was very expressive when he talked, he talked with his whole body, especially his hands. the maniac hand movement showed y/n that he was very anxious about the whole thing.

during the time she had spent with the baileys, she had reached a conclusion—wayne and quinn were all for revenge, it was clear they were furious with sam. and ethan, although he truly loved his brother and hated sam for what she did, was in on the plan for the mere purpose of pleasing his dad.

richie had been the favorite, and ethan wanted so bad for his father to see him like he once saw his brother that he was willing to sacrifice his life for it. y/n understood that feeling of wanting to belong more than anyone else, which was why she had connected with ethan in a way she never thought would be possible.

they became each other’s comfort, each other’s safe place when things got overwhelming. it really sucked to fake being wary of him, to act like she was trying to keep her distance because—like the rest of the group—she didn’t trust the new members, when it reality she just wanted to wrap her arms around his frame.

“i won’t let anything happen to you. even if i have to take a knife to the heart to make sure you get out of this alive, i’ll do it. i can promise you that.”

ethan shook his head. “but that’s exactly what i’m worried about. something happening to you. the thought of getting out of this without you… fuck, that can’t happen, y/n.”

y/n had seen ethan being vulnerable, he let himself be like that around her, but this was the first time she had seen him cry. it was a sight she never wanted to see again.

she carefully brush his tears away. “okay, then we’ll have each other’s back, okay? please don’t cry, you’re killing me.”

“i’m sorry, i’m just really scared.” he hid his face on the crook of her neck and took deep breaths to stop the tears.

“don’t be sorry. never apologise for feeling, especially to me. it just makes me sad to see your pretty eyes with tears, but i get what you say.”

“i don’t want to go back to the group.” he pouted.

y/n chuckled then checked her smartwatch. “it’s late. chad might wonder where you are.”

ethan groaned. “i don’t care. i’ll tell him i was at study group. can i stay here for a bit?”

“you’re a little obsessed with my presence, landry.” she joked.

“and what if i am?” he said before letting out a nervous laugh.

y/n took him in. his strong arm was settled on the back of the couch, right next to her head. his temple was resting on his closed hand and he was staring intently at her with those killer deep brown eyes. he was so beautiful and she was so weak when it came to him. and fuck if his full lips didn’t look so inviting.

her index finger lifted and it was soon tracing the shape of his lips. they felt as soft as his cute curls. “then we’d be on the same page. because i’m a little obsessed with you.”

ethan’s arm left the back of the couch to end up around the back of y/n’s neck, pulling her close. her shaky hand found its way to his hard chest, right where she could feel the thunderous beats of his heart, which only became more erratic when their lips finally met.

“mmmh, wanted it so bad.” he said between kisses. “we’re not going back to being just friends right? because i can’t handle that.”

“are you out of your mind? no way. you’re mine and i get to kiss you whenever i want. well, whenever i can.”

“yours. fuck, that sounds so good.” he hummed contently. “it’s going to be so hard to hold back from you.”

“but then, when we finally get to release the tension, it’s going to be so good, don’t you think?” she smirked.

“you drive me insane.”

“right back at you, pretty boy. i don’t think you realize how powerful those puppy eyes of yours are.”

ethan’s blood rushed to his cheeks and y/n giggled like a schoolgirl. her chest felt like busting. she was finally happy. truly. the 6 foot two brunet boy lying beneath her was her one source of happiness, and she was not going to let anything take him away from her.

y/n stood in her ghostface costume in front of her sisters. she was practically bouncing on her feet, excited to reveal herself and see the look on the girls’ faces. ethan, who had already shown his face, had the biggest smile. y/n was so adorable he had to close his hands in a fist to fight the temptation of bringing her into his arms.

“ready for the last surprise?.” wayne asked.

“come on, babe.” ethan squeezed her waist and y/n took the mask off. her sisters stepped back in shock, faces tinted with hurt.

“how could you?” tara spat as tears fell from her eyes.

y/n rolled her eyes. “oh, cry me a river.”

“why would you do this? is this all because of him?” sam pointed her head at ethan. “what? you fell in love and he brainwashed you into becoming a killer?”

“do you think i’m stupid? of course not.” she scoffed. “i mean, i did fall in love with him, but that’s besides the point. they came to my door a few days after we moved.” and she told them how she came to work with the baileys. “i waited years, and now… i can finally make you two pay for how shitty you’d always made me feel.”

“what are you talking about? we’re your sisters, y/n.”

y/n glared at tara. “you have some fucking nerve. you’ve always made me feel neglected, until sam left town. we started to bond, but as soon as she was back… you forgot about me. how can you even say you’re my sister?” she yelled in anger. ethan took her hand in comfort. “and you?” she looked at sam. “you’re the reason my dad left, and i swear to god i’m going to show you exactly how badly that hurt.”

“you crazy bitch. you’re insane.” tara screamed at her.

ethan slashed her stomach in fury. “watch your fucking mouth when you talk to my girlfriend!”

“let’s just get over with this. y/n deserves a break.” quinn said.

the carpenters sure put up a fight, y/n was the one who got most of the wounds, but they had managed to succeed. wayne and quinn left to take care of gale and mindy while ethan stay behind taking care of his girlfriend.

“are you feeling alright?”

“don’t worry, eth. they’re bad, but not that bad. i’ll for sure live.” she reassured him. “we made it. i told you we would.”

“you did.” he laughed, and then hugged her tightly. “you scared me so much, though. i really thought i’d lost you when i saw you lying on the ground.”

“i could never leave you.” she brushed her nose against his and whispered against his lips, “i love you. thanks for walking into my life.”

[witchygagirlwrites]

Greg "Mouse" Gerwitz x Reader x Jay Halstead/Gerstead x Reader (We all know Fireball)

The ABCs of the relationship between our favorite Soldiers & their Medic

Part of the Consider Me Gone verse

a = affection; is anyone more overly affectionate than the others? when it comes to physical vs verbal, who prefers what?

You’re the most physically affectionate out of the three of you. Maybe it stemmed from when you first met you having to touch them constantly to check any injuries but you just got used to having your hands on them and it became a comfort to all of you. Now? Those fuckers are pouting if you haven’t kissed them or hugged them or aren’t laying your head on one of them or tucking yourself into one of their sides.

Mouse is the most verbally affectionate. He’s always been vocal about wanting you and Jay home, about liking when you two are near or cheeky little comments like when you steal Jay’s shirts and he tells him “Well I think you look just like fine like that” or when you complain about anything on your body not looking quite like you think it should and him grinning “Fits me just fine doesn’t it”

b = bed; what’s the sleeping situation like? are there regular sleeping arrangements - does anyone like to sleep alone?

Look, if the three of you can comfortably share a bedroll you can sleep anywhere together. They want you in the middle. You’re always curled up to one of their chests while the other is curled around your back. They hold onto you like they’re afraid you may float away in the middle of the night.

c = comfort; when someone’s feeling down, how do the rest look after them?

Jay- This man doesn’t like showing when something bothers him so it depends which way he goes. Being stubborn and argumentative? That’s a job for you. Pushing everyone away? That’s a job for Mouse. Whoever pulls him back brings him to the other one and together you work through whatever had him down and do whatever needs to be done to get him back in the right state of mind.

Mouse- He doesn’t mind letting you know when he needs a little extra love. He’s curled up on your chest with his legs in Jay’s lap. His favorite takeout is ordered, you’re watching his favorite movie and after the movie he’s talking it out with you

You- Ok maybe sometimes you act more like Jay than Mouse. You don’t like admitting when something’s wrong and that’s bit all of you in the ass before but you’re learning to let them in. They’ve got Will and Connor on their side to keep an eye when you’re having a bad day. They have a two man approach. Mouse takes the soft love, Jay takes the tough love. It works for you and at the end of it all you’re curled up between them both and able to go to sleep feeling better about whatever was bothering you to begin with

d = dates; what do dates look like? who usually plans them, or are is it a group affair?

Dates are group planning. You have to check in on each other’s mental states regularly enough and make sure everyone is in the right state of mind to do what the other two want to do. It evens out most days.

e = events; who drags everyone else to their family/friends’ events?

Mouse is an only child, your sister is in Tennessee. Events consist of the twenty first, fifty one and med. No one is having to drag anyone because the groups belong to you all equally. They’re chaos but they’re yours

f = fights; are arguments something that happen often? what are they over, and how are they resolved?

You and Jay are hotheads. You didn’t earn the nickname “Fireball” for no reason. You argue at times but Mouse is the calmer of the three of you and usually cools it down quickly enough. It’s rare for the guys to argue and you can’t remember the last time you and Mouse argued.

g = getting together; how did it all come about? were there any pre-existing relationships between them?

Jay and Mouse were “A bonded pair” as Jay calls them already when you were assigned to their unit as a medic. They had no interest in meeting yet another new addition that wouldn’t last no time until they walked into the tent and you stood at the front of the crowd. “Holy hell” Mouse muttered under his breath and Jay smirked at him “I like her already”

You were beautiful yeah, that may have gotten their attention but your attitude kept it. They both found themselves falling for you and you for them. Long before they ever dreamt of coming home they knew the little loud mouthed medic held their hearts in the palm of her hand and you knew the two soldiers, one with sky blue and one with seafoam blue eyes would forever hold your heart.

h = hobbies; does anyone share any hobbies/passions? how do they include the rest of their partners in them?

All three of you are big runners. It takes your mind off of things and plus it's safer on you to run with them at your side. They also like video games, you don’t see the allure but you’ll lay backwards on the couch and read while they play

i = in sickness and in health - when someone falls ill, who’s the carer and who’s the germaphobe? is there anyone that resists being looked after?

No germaphobes here. You have no issue taking care of them, you always have. They know to listen to you rather they’re sick or hurt. It’s integrated into them thankfully. They’re actually amazing at taking care of you when you’re sick too. If they don’t know how to they have Will on speaker phone while they figure it out

j = joker; who’s got the best sense of humour? do they like to tease and banter with everyone else?

Jay. That man misses no chance to tease you or Mouse but it’s all in good fun to see one of you get flustered

k = knowing; who can read their partners like a book? is there anyone who’s got their walls up, even around their partners?

Mouse. You and Jay aren’t hiding shit from that man. He can read you both like a book. You’ve had some issues with walls but for the most part you’ve learned to break them down fairly easily. Surviving an active war zone at each other's sides and saving each other's lives more than once will do that for you.

l = lavish; is there anyone who really likes to treat their partners/show them off? how do the rest tend to react - who revels in it, and who’s made shy by it?

They show you off! They are ridiculous about it at times. If one isn’t doing it the other is. At times you hate it, at times you love it

m = memories - is anyone more on the sentimental side?

You all three keep your dogtags together on the mirror in your room, you each carry a picture of each other and can probably tell anyone every detail about the day you met so it’s probably an even split on that one (Even if Jay won’t admit it)

n = nights; what’s the nighttime routine like when they’re all together?

You wanted the walk in shower when you agreed to move in with them and you put it to use nightly. When you wash your hair Mouse does it for you and when Mouse washes your hair Jay takes the opportunity to wash your body. When you tell them you can do stuff for yourself they grin and say “We know but we’d rather do it for you” 

Most nights is just spent fighting over the mirror for them to shave or for you to moisturize or for brushing teeth.

o = open; how open is everyone with one another?

After you hit a bad spot there isn’t such a thing as too open with you three. You talk about anything and everything. They are not risking your mind getting too heavy on you again.

p = pda; what’s pda like with them? is there anyone who loves it, and anyone who’s less fond of it? what actions/words does it manifest as?

Jay Halstead knows very few limits on PDA. If there is a child around, yes he has limits. Beyond that? He’s kissing you, has his hand wherever he can reach, he’s got you pulled as close as he can. He’s pulling you into his lap

Mouse is less obvious and while he’s not as forthcoming with PDA if you want it he’s up for it. You want in his lap in Mollys? Come on then baby. You want a kiss at med? Ok love

You? They’re yours. Everyone is gonna know it

q = quiet; who prefers to spend their time with their partners out and about, and who likes to spend it at home?

You three go out and about to Mollys or the occasion concert or movie but prefer to be at home most night

r = romantic; is anyone a bit of a sap for their partners?

Again this is kind of equal parts. They are so in love with you it's insane and that love goes both ways. You three are literally the center of each other’s universes.

s = sharing; is there anyone who’s particularly territorial of their partners?

Ok for the most part YOU are the most territorial. We’re being honest here. I’m just saying that because you show it the most but if Mouse ever gets pushed to that point? Well you know what they say about the quiet ones

t = terms of endearment; nicknames! who’s crazy on them, and who do they make cringe? what’re the go-to’s?

Jay for you- Princess

You for them- Love, baby, handsome

Mouse for you- Sweetheart

(They both also let the occasional darlin or angel slip)

Them for each other- babe, baby, handsome

u = urge; who’s the most impulsive? who do they loop into their plans, and who entertains their antics?

Jay loops Firecracker into his insanity 

You loop Connor and Ethan

Mouse makes sure he doesn’t need to wipe surveillance footage (again)

v = vacations; how do holidays go? are they big exotic trips, or the occasional staycation?

Staycations for the most part. You three just want each other and the chance to rest when you’re off

w = worthy; how are insecurities handled? is anyone more self-conscious than the others?

You’ve all had insecurities. All of your demons have popped their heads up because none of you had good coping methods when you got home. You’ve handled them together and managed to get through them

x = xoxo;  who checks up on their partners a lot when they’re apart? do they call, or are texts enough to make them feel close?

As soon as Mouse got out of rehab and got a phone he started a group text thread between you, him and Jay. It stays busy

y = yearn; who misses their partners the easiest (ie, calls them to hear their voices when all they’ve done is run to the grocery store)?

Again, this can go either way. It depends who is having the worse day

z = zealous; who was especially eager in their pursuit of the relationship? was anyone more reserved in their want for it?

Lord those men knew they wanted you!!  You thought for the longest they were just flirting until one night you were out in the field with them and they asked if you were cold then pulled you between them. Jay admitted they “Really liked you” Mouse grinned and added “A Lot Fireball”

It took extreme measures for you to face your feelings. When you did there was really no going back. It still took a while after coming home for you three to get official. You loved them for years before you were theirs and they loved you long before you were theirs. Once you had each other there was no other option. All of you knew this was it. 

[cookiescribble]

Something New

A/N: Someone asked me for a part two of this, and honestly? Don’t have to ask me twice, I’ve been thinking about it a lot 🫶🏻 sorry it took a little more time than I was expecting, we’re going on vacation soon so a lot of our time is being spent preparing for that :) - mod angel

Pairing: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader

Summary: Spencer has been spending a lot of time bonding with his new coworker, and they’re starting to realize that they might have more feelings than they were ready for.

~~~

     I was, admittedly, pretty nervous the first time I came over Spencer’s apartment.

     I’ve always been a really shy person, and new situations always seemed a little intimidating to me. But Spencer was… different, and that comforted me. 

     I walked up to his apartment that first day, fidgeting a little as I approached his door. I took a deep breath and knocked lightly. 

     He answered the door, smiling, gesturing for me to come in. 

     I smiled and looked around his apartment. I hadn’t known him very long but it seemed very… him. There was a bookshelf against one of the forest green walls that held a large amount of books; if it belonged to anyone besides Spencer, I would’ve doubted all the books had been read. But I guess if you can read as fast as he can, getting through all those books isn’t that big a deal. 

     He led me to the couch and motioned for me to sit down. He had taken out a DVD set of Star Trek: The Original Series that was sitting on the coffee table in front of the couch. 

     He took the DVDs and started speaking. “So, I know you said you’ve seen some of TOS, but I figured it would be better to watch it completely through from start to finish.”

     “Yeah, it’s been a while since I’ve seen any of it,” I replied. “Plus, I always like to watch things fully in order. I can’t just pick up a show in the middle. I have to start at the beginning.”

     He nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, I feel the same way! People have told me it’s not a big deal to start watching a show in the middle, but I could never do that.”

     I smiled. “Plus, there’s only 3 seasons of TOS, right? It’s not that hard to get through.” I could feel myself calming down as the conversation seemed to flow easily between us. 

     “There’s only 79 episodes. It’s really short, considering how many other shows and movies came out of it.” He seemed to hesitate for a moment as he put the DVD in the player. “… I have all the other Star Trek shows and movies too, if you want to watch them.” He cleared his throat and quickly continued, “of course, for now we’ll just stick to this and, um, we don’t even have to finish if you end up changing your mind…”

     I shook my head. “No, I want to do this. I think it’ll be fun.” I smiled reassuringly. “Plus, what I have seen I’ve really liked, so I definitely want to watch the whole thing.”

     He smiled back at me and sat on the opposite end of the couch. “I just didn’t want you to feel like you had to agree to this. Most people don’t really take my interests seriously…” he admitted, sounding a little sad. 

     I just shrugged. “Well, I’m here, aren’t I? Why would I come here if I wasn’t interested?” 

     “I guess that’s true,” he said as he picked up the remote. “… So, are you ready to start?”

     I smiled and nodded. “Yeah, I’m ready,” I responded before he started playing the first episode. 

…

     We fell into a regular routine after that first day. 

     I’d usually come over about once a week. We’d always start with Spencer recapping the last episodes we watched, recalling them in perfect detail so I could remember exactly what happened. 

     I really liked watching the show with him. A lot of times, he’d get really excited and talk during the episodes. He’d always apologize when I asked him to rewind so I could catch what I missed while he was talking, but I always told him I didn’t mind. And I really didn’t, I loved listening to him talk. He always had something interesting to say. 

     I found myself starting to watch him more than I watched the show. I was trying really hard not to admit it to myself, but I was really starting to feel something between us. I’d noticed the way we both started to get comfortable with each other as time went on, and how we started to sit closer to each other every time we hung out. I felt some kind of… spark, whenever I was with him. 

     I tried to ignore this feeling, but it was getting more and more difficult. I felt so happy to see him all the time; hanging out with him felt like the highlight of my week. I looked forward to it for days, and I couldn’t help but think of how much I wanted to be alone with him when I saw him at work. 

     But I kept this all to myself. It was just a silly crush, and I didn’t even know if he had feelings like that. Plus, there’s no way I could have a crush on a coworker. That could never work out well. 

     Right?

… (POV change)

Spencer wasn’t used to spending so much time with someone. Sure, he talked with his coworkers every day, but it wasn’t the same. No one shared interests with him like this. 

Since this was all new to him, he figured these feelings he was having were just normal when you made a new friend. This certain fondness he was feeling that he had never felt before now. 

But as time went on, and he kept spending more time with them, he was starting to suspect he was feeling a little more than friendly with them. He started spending a lot of time wishing they would hang out more. Eventually, he couldn’t help it, and asked them to come over even if he’d already seen them that week. He’d say it was because he wanted to keep watching the show, but really he was just excited to see them. 

Eventually, he couldn’t deny the feelings he had for them anymore. 

There was one day they came over, after there had been a particularly exhausting case. It just so happened to end on the day they had both been reserving to watch the show together. Spencer offered to switch the days and let them catch up on sleep, but they insisted that they still wanted to come over. 

It wasn’t a problem for a while, but eventually, as Spencer was talking, they stopped replying to him. He looked over to see they had fallen asleep curled up on the couch. 

He just stared at them for a few moments before pausing the show, not wanting them to miss what was happening. He wasn’t sure what to do; he didn’t want to wake them up because they looked so peaceful. They looked… really cute…

He shook his head as if trying to shake the thought out of his mind. He stood up, getting a throw blanket and gently placing it over them, careful to not wake them up. 

He walked to the kitchen, figuring he’d make something to eat in case they were hungry when they woke up. Really, he just needed an excuse to not be near them right now. It was taking every ounce of his willpower not to slip his arm around them and let them sleep on him.

He tried not to let his mind wander as he made dinner, but he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t stop thinking about them.

He kept trying to rationalize his thoughts, like he always did. It had never been a problem before; he had always been a logical person, so it had never been difficult to keep his thoughts in check. Until now.

He knew that he shouldn’t have feelings for a coworker. It just wasn’t professional. And besides, they probably didn’t feel the same way about him. No one ever had. It was new to him just to have someone willing to share his interests. Their feelings probably ended there: he was just a new friend to them.

Although… there have been multiple occasions where he thought he saw them sneaking glances at him. And the way they looked at him, he thought that maybe they were starting to have feelings for him too…

He was so lost in thought that he didn’t notice them waking up and walking into the kitchen until they spoke to him.

“Hey…” they started. “Sorry, I didn’t realize I was falling asleep.”

Spencer jumped a little before turning to look at them. They still had the blanket wrapped around their shoulders. They looked really comfortable that way. And the sleepy tone in their voice…

He cleared his throat. “That’s okay. We had a pretty tiring few days with that case, so I figured I’d just let you sleep. You seemed like you needed it.”

They smiled sleepily. “Yeah, I guess I did.” They turned their attention to the kitchen counter. “You made dinner? Was I asleep that long?”

He shook his head. “You weren’t out for too long, but I figured you might be hungry when you woke up, so…” He trailed off, blushing a bit.

They smiled. “Thank you. I am actually pretty hungry.” They hugged the blanket a little closer to them, rubbing their eyes a bit.

Spencer turned around and grabbed two plates, carrying them to the coffee table in the living room. They followed him and sat down on the couch, moving the blanket so it was laying across their lap.

They ate in silence, the show playing on the TV in front of them, though they both seemed to have trouble paying attention to it.

After a few more episodes, it was time to leave. Spencer took the blanket when they handed it to him, putting it back where it was before.

He walked to the door with them, like he always did. Today, though, they lingered in the doorway a little longer. Maybe it was the tiredness, or maybe they just finally found the courage they’d been looking for all this time.

“Um…” they started, looking a little nervous. “Thank you for making dinner tonight. That was really nice.”

He smiled warmly at them. “Oh, it was no problem, really. I was hungry too,” he laughed awkwardly.

They smiled a bit, but they had a concentrated look on their face. “Well, uh, I was wondering… Maybe one day you’d like to… go out to dinner?” They took a deep breath before continuing quietly. “Like… as a date?”

He blushed and smiled, all the thoughts of doubt he’d been having earlier thrown out the window. “Yeah, I... I’d really like that.” He tried to sound calm, but it was clear he was really excited about it.

They smiled back at him, the nervousness gone as they realized he was just as happy about it as they were. “Okay. It’s a date, then.”

They said their goodbyes, both of them unable to stop smiling as they thought about what their future together would hold.

[zapreportsblog]

I love the last post. I can see Felix and the Reader doing martial arts together. I can see Caius's face being hesitant to give the reader head scratches.



Jasper/ the Major x wolf reader

Jasper ends up leaving the Cullens for good and going back to live with Peter and Charlotte because he decides he is done with the animal diet, and He finds out Alice lied about them being mates. On the way to Peter and Charlotte's home, He finds the reader in her wolf form not knowing she is female, being chased by other wolves. She accidentally runs into him, and she hides behind him visually scared as the others catch up to her. The Major comes out when he realizes the reader has blood on her fur and open wounds.

(I feel like Jasper/ the Major wouldn't leave the reader to suffer from danger.)

He tells the wolves after they have shift back into human form to leave the wolf alone, that's when the alpha of the pack mentions very rudely that the reader is female and how she does not belong in his pack. They leave and by then the reader has shifted back into a human and looks at Jasper and imprints on him but before she says anything she has passed out from her wounds. Jasper takes her back to Peter and Charlotte, where he nurses her back to health after Peter calls him and says she is important to Jasper. After a few weeks, Jasper, Peter and Charlotte, Reader have received a message that Maria is coming to try take The Major back.

Okay! We got this!

❝true mates❞

✭ pairing : jasper hale x reader

✭ fandom : twilight

✭ summary : jasper is done with the animal diet, he can’t survive no longer without the sweet taste of human blood so he leaves, he leaves behind his family and moves in with two of Carlisle old friends Peter and charlotte. They welcome him and he’s happy now, but before he can arrive there he has a run in with some wolves, no they aren’t attacking him but another.

✭ authors note : this was fun to write ooh and I’m in a Uber on the way home. Nvm I made it home before I could write the last half

✭ twilight masterlist

Jasper Hale's world had always revolved around Alice. Their connection was unbreakable, their bond stronger than steel. But as the days passed, an unease began to settle within him, like a cloud obscuring the sun. It was a gnawing feeling that refused to be ignored.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the first stars appeared in the sky, Jasper found himself alone with Alice in their favorite clearing. The air was crisp, and the only sound was the rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze.

"Alice," Jasper's voice trembled as he began, "I've been feeling something... off, lately. Like there's something you're not telling me."

Alice's golden eyes flickered with uncertainty, her usually bright demeanor dimming. "Jasper, you know I'd never keep anything from you."

"But what if you did?" he pushed gently. "What if there's something you've been hiding? Something about us?"

Alice's gaze dropped to the ground, and Jasper's heart clenched. "Jasper, I thought I was doing what was best for us. I thought if you believed we were destined mates, it would make the transition easier for you. I didn't want to burden you with doubts."

Jasper's brows furrowed, his confusion turning to hurt. "You lied to me? About being mates?"

Alice's voice quivered as she nodded. "I thought it was for the best. I didn't want you to struggle with your cravings more than you already do."

The weight of her admission hung heavy in the air. Jasper's mind raced, conflicting emotions churning within him. The bond they had shared, the trust he had placed in her, felt like shattered glass beneath his feet.

"I can't do this, Alice," Jasper whispered, his voice cracking. "I can't be with someone who would lie to me about something so fundamental. And it's not just that. My cravings are getting worse, and I can't ignore them any longer."

Alice reached out a trembling hand, but Jasper stepped back, out of her reach. "I need human blood, Alice. I can't suppress it any longer."

Tears of vemon welled up in Alice's eyes as she nodded, understanding the weight of his words. "Jasper, I'm so sorry."

Jasper's resolve hardened. He turned away from her, his gaze fixed on the darkening forest. "I can't stay here any longer. Not after this. I need to find a way to control my cravings."

As he walked away from the clearing, leaving behind the shattered fragments of his relationship with Alice, he felt a mixture of sorrow and determination. He needed to find a new path, one that didn't involve the lies and half-truths that had clouded his existence.

Several days later, in the quiet of the Cullen home, Carlisle approached Jasper with a solemn expression. "Jasper, I've made a difficult decision. I reached out to two old friends, Peter and Charlotte. They are vampires who drink human blood, and they've agreed to take you in."

Jasper looked up, his eyes reflecting a mix of gratitude and uncertainty. "You've done so much for me already, Carlisle."

Carlisle placed a reassuring hand on Jasper's shoulder. "We care about you, Jasper. We want you to find the path that's right for you. You deserve to live without the burden of lies and cravings."

Jasper nodded, his voice sincere. "Thank you, Carlisle. For everything."

As Jasper traveled through the dense woods, each step brought him closer to the unknown. The memory of leaving the Cullens was still fresh, a mix of sorrow and determination propelling him forward. The moon hung high in the sky, casting an ethereal glow over the forest.

Suddenly, a series of frantic growls and rustling leaves shattered the silence. Jasper's instincts kicked in, and he swiftly darted behind a large tree, taking cover. A pack of massive wolves emerged from the shadows, their eyes glinting with a mix of fury and urgency.

In their midst was an injured wolf, blood oozing from a wound on its side. The injured wolf's paws faltered, and it stumbled, falling to the ground with a pained whimper. The other wolves closed in, their intentions clear.

Jasper's eyes narrowed as he felt a surge of protective energy flow through him. Without hesitation, he stepped forward, his presence commanding attention. The air seemed to crackle with tension as his form shifted, his alter ego, the Major, taking over.

With a roar that echoed through the night, the Major radiated power and authority. The other wolves hesitated, their aggression giving way to uncertainty. The Major's cold, steely gaze bore into them, a warning that needed no words.

The pack of wolves backed away, their tails tucked between their legs. As they retreated, the injured wolf managed to stand, its eyes locking onto Jasper's, a mixture of gratitude and fear in its gaze. Jasper's gaze softened, recognizing the vulnerability beneath the fierce exterior.

Then, something unexpected happened. The injured wolf's form began to shift, contorting and reshaping until it was no longer a wolf, but a human. She stumbled slightly, her body weakened by the transformation, and Jasper moved quickly to support her.

Her breathing was labored, and blood stained her torn clothes. "Thank you," she managed to whisper, her voice fragile and hoarse, before collapsing against him, unconscious.

Jasper's surprise was twofold. First, he was taken aback by the fact that the injured wolf had been a girl all along. And second, as he looked into her eyes, which had transitioned from the fierce amber of a wolf to the warm brown of a human, he felt a pull—a connection unlike any other.

His heart raced, and for a moment, he was at a loss for words. The sensation of a mate pull was undeniable, a magnetic force drawing him to her. But his recent experiences with Alice had left him cautious, wary of giving his heart too easily.

Gently cradling the injured girl in his arms, Jasper's thoughts swirled. He couldn't deny the bond that seemed to be forming, the inexplicable connection that defied reason. As he carried her deeper into the woods, seeking a safe place to tend to her wounds, he couldn't shake the feeling that his journey had taken an unexpected turn—one that held the potential for a new chapter in his immortal life.

Jasper continued his journey through the night, his arms cradling the injured girl against his chest. His steps were steady, his heart a mix of uncertainty and determination. He knew he was headed in the right direction—toward Peter and Charlotte, his two old vampire friends who had agreed to take him in.

As he approached their secluded dwelling, nestled deep within the wilderness, a sense of familiarity washed over him. The moonlight illuminated the path ahead, guiding him toward the place where he hoped to find answers and a safe haven.

The door to the cabin swung open just as Jasper arrived, revealing Peter and Charlotte. Their expressions were a mix of surprise and concern as they took in the scene before them—the injured girl in Jasper's arms.

"Jasper, what happened?" Charlotte's voice carried genuine worry as she rushed forward to help.

Jasper carefully laid the girl on a nearby couch, her unconscious form a stark contrast to the cozy interior of the cabin. "She was being chased by a pack of shapeshifters. I scared them off."

Peter approached Jasper, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Good job, Major."

With Charlotte's expertise, they set to work treating the girl's wounds. The room was filled with the soft glow of candles, and Jasper watched as they worked together seamlessly, their experience evident in every movement.

Time passed in a blur as they tended to the girl's injuries. Slowly, her breathing steadied, and color returned to her cheeks. Jasper found himself captivated by her delicate features, her vulnerability drawing him in.

As the girl began to stir, her eyelids fluttering open, she looked around in confusion before her gaze settled on Jasper. "You saved me."

Jasper offered her a small, reassuring smile. "You're safe now."

"Thank you," she murmured, her voice barely a whisper.

As the girl drifted back into a restful slumber, Jasper turned to Peter, his expression conflicted. "Peter, I don't understand. I felt a mate pull toward her, but she's a shapeshifter, and I'm a vampire. How is that possible?"

Peter's gaze held a knowing twinkle as he leaned against the cabin's wall. "Jasper, a vampire's mate can be anyone or anything. The connection transcends the boundaries of species. It's about souls that resonate with each other, regardless of form."

Jasper's brows furrowed, absorbing Peter's words. "But how can I feel a connection to her? I've felt a similar pull before, but it was never this strong."

Charlotte joined the conversation, her gentle smile reassuring. "Jasper, love is a powerful force. It can defy logic and expectations. Your experiences with Alice might have taught you caution, but that doesn't mean you should close yourself off to new possibilities."

Jasper's gaze drifted back to the girl, his heart a swirl of emotions. As he watched her, he realized that he had been given a second chance—a chance to discover a new kind of love, one that was based on honesty and mutual understanding.

Peter's words echoed in his mind, a reminder that love was not confined by the boundaries of species. As the night unfolded around them, Jasper's resolve strengthened. He would embrace this newfound connection, this unexpected mate pull, and allow it to guide him toward a future that held both promise and adventure.

As the girl began to regain her strength, Jasper sat by her side, his eyes never straying from her. She stirred, her eyelids fluttering open, and a soft smile curved her lips as she met his gaze.

"Hey," she whispered, her voice fragile but filled with gratitude.

Jasper returned her smile, a warmth spreading through him. "How are you feeling?"

"(Y/N)," she introduced herself, her voice carrying a hint of determination despite her weakened state. "And thanks to you and your friends, much better."

He nodded, a sense of kinship forming between them. "I'm Jasper."

She looked around the cabin, her gaze landing on Peter and Charlotte, who were watching with approving smiles. "You have good friends, Jasper."

"They're more like family," Jasper replied, his voice tinged with emotion. "They took me in when I needed it most."

Peter approached, a playful grin on his face. "And now it seems we're growing our family even more."

Charlotte nodded in agreement. "You're welcome to stay with us, (Y/N). Consider this cabin your home as well."

Tears glistened in (Y/N)'s eyes as she looked at the couple before her. "Thank you, both of you. I don't know how to repay your kindness."

Peter chuckled. "No need for repayment. We've been in similar situations before, and we believe in helping those in need."

As days turned into weeks, the cabin became a haven for (Y/N), much like it had been for Jasper when he first arrived. The bond between them grew stronger, a friendship forged in gratitude and shared experiences.

Jasper found himself drawn to (Y/N) in ways he had never imagined. Her resilience and kindness captivated him, and the mate pull he felt only intensified. He was no longer burdened by doubts or fears; instead, he embraced the connection that had formed between them.

As they spent time together, sharing stories and laughter, Jasper felt a deep sense of contentment. The pain of his past with Alice was slowly fading, replaced by the hope of a future with his true mate.

One evening, as the sun set and cast hues of orange and pink across the sky, Jasper found himself alone with (Y/N) on the porch. They sat side by side, the quietude of the moment speaking volumes.

"(Y/N)," Jasper began softly, his gaze fixed on the horizon, "I know we come from different worlds, but there's something between us that I can't ignore."

She turned to him, her eyes meeting his with a mix of curiosity and understanding. "I feel it too, Jasper."

He took a deep breath, his voice steady. "I've been hurt before, (Y/N). But with you, it's different. I want to embrace this connection between us, without reservation."

A smile graced her lips, a gentle affirmation. "I want that too, Jasper. I've never felt a bond like this before."

And in that moment, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the stars began to twinkle in the night sky, Jasper knew he had found his true mate. The journey that had led him to (Y/N) was one of twists and turns, heartache and healing. But now, with her by his side and the support of Peter and Charlotte, he felt a sense of completeness that he had never known before—a love that transcended all boundaries and promised a future filled with hope and happiness.

[highvern]

Totally Scrooged TEASER

Pairing: Lee Seokmin x f!reader

Genre: neighbor!au, idiots to lovers, fluff/angst/smut

warnings:  alcohol consumption, others tbd

Teaser Length: ~1.5k | Full Fic Length: ~20k

Note: it's christmas timeeeee!!!!!! i missed DK so dearly since Teach Me so I had to bring him back for the holidays. everyone, check out the rest of the fics on @camandemstudios everyone worked so hard and im so excited to read them. thank u @gyuswhore and @lovetaroandtaemin for beta-ing this teaser

summary: When your ex decides to propose to his best friend he told you not to worry about only eleven months after your breakup, you decide the holidays aren’t worth it this year. You’re dedicated to ignoring the red and green splashed on every surface, but your neighbor has a way of convincing you maybe the holidays aren’t totally bad.

collab m.list || m.list

Comment to be tagged when the fic is posted later this month!

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

Shot number four is about the time you realize drinking your sorrows alone in your apartment on a Saturday night is a little bit pathetic. But you unlock your phone out of habit and the same picture of your ex down on one knee in the middle of the street in marathon gear stares back at you, and a fifth shot sounds exactly like what you need.

At least the burn of peppermint schnapps is festive.

Ten months. You and Sam split barely ten months and he’s already engaged to Carson. 

After three years of dating, getting Sam to talk about plans further than a month out was like pulling teeth. When he asked you to move in with him you thought there was a very real chance he suffered some head injury that day. Sam and long term commitment didn’t mix. Your entire relationship felt like borrowed time. His engagement proved it was the truth.

In hindsight, you should’ve trusted your gut about Sam’s “platonic” “childhood” “best” “friend.” 

They did everything together. Their families vacationed in Montauk every summer, they alternated who hosted which major holiday despite living next door, there isn’t a single milestone either achieved without the other. Every time you visited his parents house the plethora of photos of your boyfriend and his best friend from cradle to present day seemed to grow exponentially. 

She’s like my sister.

Most people would frown upon dating a sibling after breaking up with their long term girlfriend, who was sick at home with the flu during Christmas, via text but what do you know? You’re the one sitting on your couch in a tiny apartment you can barely afford wallowing in drunk sorrows while they’re out celebrating.

It’s addicting. Scrolling through all the comments on their engagement photos, with a blanket over your head like some fairytale witch. Sam’s friends you tried so hard to bond with flood the comments, gushing about how cute he and Carson are, how happy they are for them. 

Your friends texted you how big of a jerk he was, a few calls but you ignored them. All you want is to wallow in self pity. 

Like the judgemental diva she is, Shinx watches from her tower in the corner, green eyes disdainful. She never liked Sam anyway.

It’d be better if Carson wasn’t objectively likable. Everyone liked her, you included. At least, until your boyfriend dumped you in a three sentence text and she posted a picture of them together on her Instagram not twenty four hours later with the caption “the best things take a while” – color coordinated for the Spencer family photo shoot in front of their lake house.

Assholes.

Even when she isn’t dolled up for pictures, you can’t even pretend she isn’t pretty. Carson looks like she belongs on a Hollywood set, even after running a 5k at the crack of dawn. Perfect messy ponytail, face rosie but not too red. It’s not fair, it’s not fair, it’s not fair. 

Shot number seven empties the bottle.

Through the living room wall your neighbor belts the lyrics to Celine Dione’s “All By Myself.”

It was ignorable the first few times he replayed it – a little poetic even given the circumstances – but it’s been nearly twenty minutes and you don’t need to be reminded how alone you are. You rocket off the couch and land against the wall with a thud.

“Keep,” knock. “It.” Knock. “Down.” Knock. Knock. KNOCK.

Mr. Neighbor, because you don’t know his name, sings louder.

In the months you’ve lived in this apartment you’ve met your neighbor exactly twice. When you first moved in only two weeks after your break up because Sam’s name was on the lease - not yours – and this was the only place you could find on such short notice in the middle of winter. You had the unfortunate privilege of riding the elevator with him in complete silence, only the sound of your pathetic cries as you moved soggy box after box. He was at least polite enough to take the stairs afterwards. And last month, during a building-wide fire drill because someone on the second floor fell asleep while making boiled eggs. Neither of you felt very chatty at four in the morning.

You couldn’t care less about splotchy cheeks or if your eyes were bloodshot. In your drunken righteousness, you don’t care that there’s mascara running down your face or the sweatshirt billowing around you has grease stains. Something snapped in you. Gritting your teeth, you rush out to the hall and straight for the neighboring door.

Your knuckles sting with each knock but he doesn’t answer until you escalate to pounding against the metal door like the police.

Mr. Neighbor must hear that because Celine cuts off mid-belt. Seconds later the door flies open.

He’s taller than you remember, your eyes level with a hole in the collar of his sweater. When you drag your gaze away from the dip of his throat the combination of tears and booze makes deciphering his face incredibly difficult because he has four of them and they keep moving back and forth in blurry circles. His dark hair sticks up in a million directions. Like he put his finger in an electric socket and then tried to fix the mess himself.

Mr. Neighbor stares at you, expression unreadable. “Can I help you?”

“You know,” you start, teetering on drunk feet as you shove an indignant finger into his chest. “Some of us just want to come home from work and relax! Not listen to their neighbors screaming at the top of their lungs.”

“I didn’t realize it was that loud,” he hiccups. “I’ll turn it down.”

It’s hard to be angry when he looks like a mirror image of you. Wet, red-rimmed eyes and a sniffling nose. There’s booze in the air which could be yours but with the state he’s in it’s doubtful. Who listens to “All by Myself” ten times if they aren’t also sobbing alone in the dark? 

Guilt squeezes your chest. “Sorry, I’m just…rough day.”

Mr. Neighbor doesn’t say anything for a long time, appraising you silently. If you weren’t drunk off your rocker then the fact you aren’t wearing a bra and the old sweater you tossed on does nothing to hide that fact might be embarrassing. Or how you aren’t even wearing shoes, just fuzzy socks with a hole in the ankle. You also smell like a drunk elf who escaped the North Pole.

“It’s okay. Sorry about the music.”

Mouth moving before you know what comes out, you stop him from leaving just yet. “Why are you crying?”

“Stupid shit. Why are you crying?”

You want to brush it off. You’re not looking for pity. Sam objectively sucked, and your relationship would’ve ended one way or another. Sometimes, it just feels good to cry all the frustration out and wish the worst on people. And you really would prefer not to do either of those things with your neighbor you hardly know. 

Especially, when you realize he’s objectively hot even through the blur of tears and intoxication. But alcohol has a way of loosening even the tightest lips.

“My ex got engaged.”

His eyes widened in shock before softening in pity. 

“Do you wanna come in?”

You don’t sense any ulterior motive. Mr. Neighbor has the vibe of someone who never met a stranger, one of those people you tell your life story to in the airport when your flight’s delayed only to leave and realize the only thing you learned about him was he also hated airline food and thought flying first class on domestic flights was a waste of money.

Maybe whatever “stupid shit” he was crying over can be a distraction from your own baggage. If it can’t, at least the invite to complain to a person completely unexposed to the drama of your love life wasn’t half bad. 

However, you don’t know him. His stupid shit could be infinitely worse and then you look like the asshole while he’s crying over his childhood pet passing away back at his parents house while he’s stuck in his apartment because flights during Thanksgiving are ungodly expensive.

Either way, another person to whine about the world with sounded nice.

You say yes.

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[royalsweetteaa]

Love me, please

Pairing: dom!Max Burnett x sub!reader

18+ ONLY | MINORS DNI

WARNING - The following fic contains: SPOILERS, explicit smut, fluff, unprotected sex, hard sex, cumshot (facial), face fucking/deepthroat, needy!Max, Max is touch starved, daddy kink, family pretend (fake incest?), kissing/make out, slight degradation, pet names.

Summary: You and Max are a part of what other people would view as the perfect family. If only they knew…

3rd person POV

It was another morning at the Hobbes’ mansion. Max stood up around lunch like usual after spending a good amount of time at the bar the day before, fooling around for a bit until he got bored and returned home.

As he was leaving his room, he noticed the wide open door of the empty bedroom belonging to his mother and billionaire step father while passing by. He didn’t think much of it at first, until he got to the living room and heard a familiar sound - someone humming a song alongside the radio playing quietly in the background.

Still in his pajama shorts and t-shirt, he walks over to the kitchen where the sound came from, and was met by a glance from none other than his sister.

In a frozen state with her muzli filled spoon shoved in her mouth, she smiles, greeting him once she’s swallowed the spoon full. He laughs, returning the morning greeting.

“Where’s mom?” Max asks her, as he sits down across her by the kitchen island where she was finishing eating her cereal.

“She’s out with Richard.” She informed, unbothered. “Both left an hour ago saying they wish to spend the whole day catching up on their love or whatever.”

“Mhm,” Max responded with a simple hum. It was always quiet around the house, but with the knowledge of their ‘parents’ being away for the rest of the day, it felt more quiet and peaceful. More peaceful because there was no reason to pretend anymore. To be cautious. It was just her and him.

Unless…

“What about Tom? He around somewhere?”

“Nope,” she spoke, popping the ‘p’, “He’s at work, presumably doing nothing other than taking care of his books at his bookshop.” Her tone hinted to be condescending, and Max could hardly blame her.

He laughed, “Our stepbrother is a bit of a loser, isn’t he? And Richard’s wondering why we aren’t hanging out together all three. He’s just too different from us.”

She sighed with a chuckle, “He sure is…in more ways than one.”

Her wording sounded harmless, but Max knew the true meaning behind it. Anyone but them wouldn’t know a thing.

“And how are you, my dear sister?” Max spoke up again, trailing the sentence with humor. “How did you sleep last night?” He asked, as he stood up to walk over to her who was taking the last spoonful into her mouth.

She smirked, shaking her head. “Like a log.”

He kissed her forehead, wrapping his arms around her waist before he rested his chin on the top of her head.

“That’s good.” He replied softly. “How about we do something fun, hm? Let’s watch a movie, have a drink. Entertain ourselves. Bond with each other. Just like the good old days….”

2nd person POV

The TV was on in low volume, filling in as background noise while you and Max we’re doing something not so sibling like.

Empty shots and a bottle of brandey was on the table, the light coming from the TV screen illuminated through the bottle. The blinds were closed around the whole living room, giving the two of you secured privacy. Max was on top of you on the couch, trapping you beneath him while cupping your crotch as he made out with you.

In the eyes of everyone else and their knowledge, your current actions would have been deemed to be so wrong. But it wasn’t.

Because you were in fact not siblings. Your displayed sibling dynamic was a facade, - fake. Just like Madeline’s love for the Manhattan billionaire Richard.

It was nothing new.

Just regular business, - the ultimate con to get the money you were in the long process of stealing. You were stealing big, and there were no suspicions of it.

Not with how wholesome you were making out to be as the two siblings with a single mother who now have become a completed family with the widowed billionaire and his alone child.

But it wasn’t all business now, was it?

In the midst of your make out session, Max pulled you to get comfy on his lap, raising his hips to grind his bulge against your heated core.

Your tongues leave each other when you pull away for air, and Max decides to ask the question that he has pondered in his head for some time. Something he was already certain of knowing but needed reassurance of.

“This is real, right?” He asks, as he puts a hair strand behind your ear. “This… our relationship…you’re not faking it, are you?”

“Why would you think that?”

“I’m asking…games aside…you love me, right?”

Your guard was now lowered to the ground, with the reveal of your true nature coming to light as your eyes darken with lust. “Of course I love you, Max…you’re very dear to me. My dearest…”

Max smirked, his grip becoming firmer the more he let silence fill the moments.

“That’s good to know.” He muttered as he stared deep into your eyes. “I know how much you love me, but how about you let daddy know too? Show me.”

Nothing more had to be said. The two of you started to undress, exchanging a kiss for each piece of cloth that left your bodies. You eagerly dragged Max’s pajama shorts down, revealing his cock, fully erect and left twitching as he kept his gaze on you who was removing the last undergarment on yourself.

“Touch me, Y/N…” he ordered, and with a hum you complied. You sat on his lap again, touching his bare chest with sensual strokes while you sucked bruises on his neck.

You left his lap and got on your knees, presenting yourself between his legs. His gaze followed you intently when your kisses went further down from his stomach to his thighs, dangerously close to his cock.

Before Max could make an order, your lips met his angry red tip, kissing it teasingly before you sunk down further in for more.

“Good girl…always such a good girl for daddy…” Max praised you, and it made your lips quirk into a smile while still wrapped around his tip. Slowly you began to take him down your mouth, salvaging the salty taste of his precum.

Max groaned audibly, resting his palm on his face as he took in the pleasure of having his cock sucked. It felt too good, and he knew it was more than because of your excellent blowjob techniques - it was because it was you. He found you perfect in every way. Having your sweet cheeks hollow as you swallowed him whole was everything to him.

Even money aside, you meant everything to him.

He rasps softly, “Daddy wants his cock down your throat. Think you can give me what I want?”

Your head tilted slightly with glossy eyes. You had taken him halfway so far, but you knew you could take all of him like previous times. You had practiced with him and he had trained you well.

“Go ahead then.” He ordered.

He put his hand on your head, encouraging you to take him deeper, and you did. You bobbed your head slowly, the slick around the base of his cock helping the process go faster.

His breath hitched when you got to the base, your nose nudging his stomach telling him so without looking. Ignoring the slight pain in your throat because of his thick cock, you face fucked yourself harder, continuing a rough pace with Max’s hand pushing the back of your head, holding you firmly.

“Mmh, fuck! I’m not going to last long. Will you let me use you, sweetheart? Please? I know you’ll be so good for me.” You nod as best as you can before he bucks his hips eagerly, keeping your head shoved down as he used your throat to cum. With a strained groan, he spills his load inside down your throat, keeping you down before he lets go. You gasp for ear, slick running down your chin which Max gathers with the use of his thumb and into your mouth.

“Swallow it all, sweetie…it’s all for you.” Max coaxed. He heard the sound of your throat gulp down his sticky substance, and he smiled with satisfaction. “There you go. Got a nice fill in your tummy, hm? Daddy’s so proud of you, hon.” He praised, and you giggled shyly as he approached your lips for a kiss.

Max’s cock shines in your spit, perfectly lubed of it to pierce through you in one thrust. Max knows your body well, and based on the wet slick running down your thighs, he knows you’re ready.

He motions you to settle on the couch and to turn around with your ass up in the air, your face against the pillow as Max got himself steady on the limited space. “Gonna fuck you so thoroughly, you won’t be needing anything else for weeks. You ready for it, sweetie?”

“Mhm!” You hum eagerly.

“Beg for it nicely, sweetheart.”

“Yes, daddy! I need your cock inside of me right now! Please! Need it so bad!” You plead, and it’s all Max needed to hear before he takes you.

Max lines up his cock and pushes your back against the cushions before he shoves his cock inside your quivering cunt, making you yelp out loud from the sudden intrusion.

“Fuck,” He groans, slamming his cock in and out of you. “Such a dirty little slut for me, aren’t you? You want it harder? Want daddy’s cock ruining your pussy for anyone else?”

“Oh fuck...yes daddy, yes! More!” You cry out, pleadingly.

Max grants your wish by quickening up the pace immediately and sets a brutal pace. He rests his upper body against your back, entertaining your ears by whispering sweet nothings against them. His hands finds your breasts beneath you, and he cups them as he lowers his body, getting closer to you. He becomes more pleading by the minute, needing to hear those words coming from your lips again as he chases his high.

“Please, love me. Say you love me, sweetheart. Say it -“

“Ohh! I love you so, so much, daddy!”’ You moaned out as he kept fucking into you relentlessly. “I love you so fucking much! Aah, I don’t think I could ever live without you, Max!”

Your confession makes Max’s heart flutter with delight. He needed to hear that so bad.

“That’s good,…cause I don’t think…I could live without my sweet girl either…fuck!” He spoke, his out of breath causing pauses in his sentence. He felt your pussy tighten around him once more just then, making him undone. “M’gonna paint your cute face after you cum, okay sweetie? Want to fucking mark you.”

“Do it…” you permitted, before your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he ripped an orgasm out of you. “shit, daddy! I’m gonna - Mmmh -!!” You muffled your moan onto the pillow, and Max smirked at his successful doings of making you into an empty headed slut. Your eyes were dazed with your mouth agape, drool leaving your mouth as he kept taking what he needed from your body.

Eventually Max pulled out, making you whine from the absence of his cock filling your cunt, and he crawled over with his cock towering your face, stroking desperately to have his release. You rolled over to face him, the scenery in front of you being so lewd you knew you would be touching yourself to the memory until you find a moment to be together again like this.

His hips stuttered and he came all over your face, your eyes blinking from getting any of it in the eye. You poked your tongue out, hoping to taste more of his spunk as you were addicted to it. He stroke his length once more, directing his tip onto your tongue to get the last bead of seed on your tastebuds, and you moaned from savoring it.

Before any of you rose up, Max hunched over you once again, capturing your lips for a passionate kiss before you inevitably had to go back to pretend. Pretend like this never happened. That he hadn’t just fucked the soul out of you or used your throat like a fleshlight.

It was frustrating having to stay away from each other for weeks on end, but you knew you would be blessed with days like this once in a while. Where you could act out your pent up sexual frustrations. Where you could love each other.

It would all be worth it when you receive the money you were cheating your way into getting. Only then could you get your happily ever after.

But until then…

“Let’s get you cleaned up, sis. Don’t want any members of our perfect family to see what I’ve done to your pretty face.”

A/N: First S.S. character fic! Starting out with Max Burnett!

Hearts & Reblogs are very appreciated! Thanks for the support! <3

[writing-rat]

Tattoo Talks

Pairings: Sammy x Joey

Content: Fluff, talk of tattoos, Joey needs a hug

Summary: Joey asks about Sammy's tattoos when she is on lunch break. Sammy is happy to tell.

WC: 970

It had been months after both the girls survived Abigail’s rampage and both were as scarred as each other so they were living together, Caleb also being with them. Caleb was close to his mom once again and his new step-mom too. It was a family come true… plus he liked her tattoos. The women were currently doing their own thing. Joey was looking for jobs, but she was struggling immensely due to the fact that she was discharged for stealing drugs from the military. Sammy meanwhile had managed to get a job as a software designer and an ethical hacker too, making sure that companies were safe from potential hacks. Sammy was happy paying for the rent and everything but Joey also wanted to be independent, Sammy knew that. She was nothing but supportive of her girlfriend. 

After an hour, Joey closed the computer lid gently before punching the counter. “What did we say about punching walls or counters?” Sammy immediately called into the kitchen from the living room that was connected. 

“Not to do it, sorry baby,” Joey called back apologetically. She was ashamed she let her anger get to her. 

“It’s ok. Just take a breather,” Sammy replied. 

“Want a cup of coffee?” Joey asked, peeking into the living room where Sammy was. She was wearing a pair of basketball shorts and a tank top that definitely belonged to Joey. 

“Yes please, you know how I like it,” Sammy responded with a smile and looked at her wife. Joey nodded as she went back into the kitchen to make it.

5 minutes later she was out and sat down next to Sammy, who started to yawn and saved her code. It was nearly lunchtime at least for Sammy, having her break at 12 and it was currently 11:56. “You’ll get a job soon baby, I know it,” Sammy spoke quietly. “For now you can be a good housewife,” she joked. Joey couldn’t help but laugh as she kissed the blonde and leaned into her, focusing on her tattoos again. 

“I am not meant to be a housewife,” Joey chuckled. “Plus you clean more than me,” she added with a grin. Sammy nodded as she leaned back and wrapped an arm around the mother. 

“That’s true. Very true. I love you, babe,” Sammy responded. 

“I love you too,” Joey spoke before kissing the woman. The younger woman kissed back immediately as she smiled. That was when Joey couldn’t help but ask something. 

“Can you explain your tattoos to me? We aren’t on the job after all now,” Joey teased. 

“Very true. Glad you asked,” Sammy grinned. She hoped Joey would ask eventually and she did. She had seen the MILF stare at them a lot. “The dragon is a representation of the anger inside me. Especially when I’m on my period as you know. When I look at it, I calm down immensely,” Sammy spoke, showing the dragon off. Joey was listening intently and staring at the tattoos she talked about. “My hand tattoos that say Fuck Mom was done when I was annoyed at my family. I still am but the bond is regrowing now. I just need to hide my hands when we meet,” Sammy joked. Ever since the incident with Abigail, Sammy had been trying to talk to her parents, and try and be a good child. It was going well so far. Sammy soon pointed to the hearts on her shoulder. “These are for the 2 pet cats I lost. All died of old age,” she spoke. Joey just nodded, patting her shoulder.

After a quick break of 4 minutes, both drinking their coffee, Sammy continued. She pointed to the alien. “The alien one was when I was 18 and believed in aliens. I still do, to be honest,” Sammy chuckled. “The spider is for me being able to beat my fear of them. I used to panic but now they’re friends,” she grinned. She was still proud of herself. “This cross from a bet. It was a stupid bet but we don’t care about that,” Sammy laughed. Joey grinned. 

“Think of it as a commemoration for living a vampire,” Joey offered. Sammy clicked her fingers. 

“I love that idea,” she spoke and kissed Joey. “It’ll be that now.” She pointed to the face with barbed wire for teeth (or Joey assumed). “This was my first tattoo my friend did. We just did it when I was high and yeah…” Sammy explained ashamed. Joey shrugged. 

“It has a cool design,” Joey complimented it. 

“Thank you,” Sammy spoke happily. She then lifted her arm, showing the one that was a ball from snooker or bingo and it had the number 8. “8 is my lucky number as you know, and I like playing snooker so it was perfect,” she explained. She pointed to the back of her shoulder. “There I have a tree tattoo. I am continuously growing in different ways, just like a tree,” she spoke. That was all the tattoos she had now. 

“Do you plan on getting more? One arm looks very empty after all,” Joey joked. Sammy laughed and nodded. 

“I was thinking of getting a sun one. Gives a new meaning to life, especially after Abigail,” Sammy explained. Joey nodded. “And I was wondering if we could get a matching one, you and me. Stakes that say each other name,” Sammy explained. Joey was shocked before she nodded. 

“We can do that,” Joey spoke. She didn’t have any tattoos but she would get one for Sammy, she would do anything for her. As the lunch break for Sammy went on, the 2 continued to talk about whatever, mostly the matching tattoo. 

Both were still alive, and they would commemorate a tattoo of it. They had to, it was fate.

[lovely-amora]

The Stray and the Stray

Naja found a cute cat. All bones but all the attitude. Funny enough they body quickly despite having the same personality. If only the guys would stop calling her cat nicknames..

It had been a long mission.

Naja was tired, sore, and more than ready to get back to base when she heard it.

A tiny, pitiful meow.

She halted mid-step, frowning. The others were a few feet ahead, already trudging toward the evac point, but she barely heard them over the sound. It was faint, coming from somewhere beneath a pile of debris.

Curious, she crouched down and shifted a few loose bricks aside. A pair of sharp, golden eyes peered back at her from the shadows.

A cat.

Thin. Dirty. Its dark fur was patchy in some places, likely from hunger or injury. But despite its sorry state, it had an attitude. The little thing stared at her like she was the intruder here.

She exhaled sharply. “You’re a mean little thing, huh?”

The cat meowed again, softer this time.

“Yeah, yeah. C’mere.”

Carefully, she reached out. It didn’t immediately bolt, just watched her, tail flicking warily. After a moment, it took a slow, cautious step forward—then another—until it was close enough for her to scoop up.

It was all ribs. Light as a feather.

The little thing settled against her with a low, grumbly purr, rubbing its face against her glove.

“…Oh, you’re a suck-up now?” she murmured, lips twitching.

“Naja.”

She turned to see Ghost staring at her. The others had noticed her absence.

“What are you doin’?” Gaz asked, walking back toward her. Then his eyes landed on the cat in her arms. “…Seriously?”

Soap grinned. Too wide. “You found a stray? That’s rich, considering—”

“Don’t.” She glared.

Soap didn’t listen. “You’re basically a cat yourself.”

“Oh, here we go,” she muttered, standing up with the cat still nestled in her arms.

Price sighed, eyeing the little creature warily. “You know we can’t keep it, right?”

She stared at him. “I don’t recall asking for permission.”

Price pinched the bridge of his nose. “Christ.”

Gaz chuckled. “She’s already bonded with it.”

“Of course she has.” Ghost tilted his head, observing the way the cat curled against her like it belonged there. “Same temperament. Look at it—doesn’t trust easy, doesn’t like people, but the second it gets comfortable, it’s smug as hell.”

“I’m not smug,” she scoffed.

“Sure, you aren’t.”

Soap was grinning like an idiot. “What’re you namin’ it?”

She shrugged. “I’ll think about it.”

They made it back to base without incident, and the cat stayed.

It never left her side.

Always nearby, always watching with sharp, unreadable eyes. It followed her to the gym, sat in her lap during briefings, even perched on her desk when she was working.

The team took notice.

And, of course, they ran with it.

“Oi, Whiskers,” Gaz called one morning, smirking.

She glanced up, confused, until she saw the cat on her shoulder—then narrowed her eyes. “No.”

Soap grinned. “How ‘bout Paws?”

Ghost, passing by, added, “Little Lion.”

Price was the worst. He merely chuckled and said, “Kitten.”

She almost threw something at him.

The cat just yawned and curled closer.

Yeah. Maybe she really was a damn cat.

[jellofish-plant]

Shadows and Smoke

Pairing: Jason Todd (Red Hood) x Reader

[Masterlist]

Warnings:

Mentions of violence (typical Gotham crime-fighting scenarios).

Light angst as Jason confronts his past and his vulnerabilities.

Protective themes with Jason shielding the reader.

Fluff and emotional bonding amidst the chaos.

Summary: The Joker’s schemes come to a head, placing the reader in the crossfire of Gotham’s dark underworld. Jason faces the ultimate test, confronting his greatest fears and deepest anger to protect the one person he refuses to lose. Shadows and smoke linger in the aftermath, but even in the darkest corners of Gotham, there’s room for hope and healing.

prev || next

The night was supposed to be over. Jason had promised you a quiet walk back to your apartment with no detours, no distractions, just the two of you. But Gotham had other plans.

It started with laughter.

Not the kind you’d hear in a bar or at a comedy show, but that twisted, bone-chilling cackle that could only belong to one person. Your stomach sank as the sound echoed through the alley, growing louder with every step.

Jason froze beside you, his entire body going rigid. His hand immediately moved to his holster. "Stay close," he said, his voice low and commanding.

Before you could respond, a figure emerged from the shadows, his bright purple suit and painted white face unmistakable.

"Well, well, if it isn’t Gotham’s favorite corpse," the Joker drawled, his grin wide and menacing. His green hair gleamed under the dim streetlight as he twirled a crowbar in his hand. "And look! You brought a plus-one! How sweet."

Your breath hitched as the Joker’s eyes landed on you, his grin somehow widening. "Is this your new sidekick, Red? Or just someone to keep your bed warm at night?"

Jason stepped in front of you, his body a solid wall of protection. "Don’t," he growled, his voice like thunder.

The Joker laughed again, delighted by Jason’s reaction. "Oh, touchy, aren’t we? Don’t worry, I’m not here to play with your little friend. Tonight, I’m all about you."

Jason pulled his pistols, aiming them squarely at the Joker’s chest. "You’ve got three seconds to disappear before I put you down for good."

The Joker’s smile didn’t falter. "Oh, Jason, you know you don’t have it in you. You’ve tried before, remember? And yet, here I am!" He gestured to himself, mockingly presenting his unscathed body.

Your heart pounded as you gripped Jason’s jacket from behind, trying to steady yourself. The Joker’s presence felt like a physical weight pressing down on your chest.

"Jason," you whispered, your voice trembling.

Jason didn’t move, his focus locked on the Joker. "Don’t worry," he said, his voice steady. "I’ve got this."

"Do you, though?" the Joker taunted, taking a step closer. "Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re a little... distracted."

In one swift motion, the Joker swung the crowbar, aiming it directly at Jason’s head. Jason dodged with ease, his movements fluid and precise. He fired a warning shot at the Joker’s feet, forcing him to leap back with a theatrical flourish.

"Temper, temper!" the Joker scolded, his grin never wavering. "You’ve got to learn to relax, Jason. Maybe your little friend can teach you. What’s your name, darling?"

Your blood ran cold as the Joker’s attention turned to you. Jason fired another shot, this time grazing the Joker’s arm.

"Say her name again, and I’ll blow your head off," Jason snarled, his voice filled with a fury you’d never heard before.

The Joker clutched his arm, his grin faltering for the first time. "Touchy, touchy," he muttered, backing away slightly. "Fine, fine. I’ll leave the lovebirds alone for now. But you know I can’t stay away for long, Jason. You’re just too much fun!"

With a mocking bow, the Joker disappeared into the shadows, his laughter echoing behind him.

Jason didn’t move for several seconds, his breathing heavy and his guns still raised. Slowly, he lowered them, turning to face you.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice soft now, his blue eyes searching for yours.

You nodded, though your hands were still shaking. "I’m fine. Are you?"

Jason exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah. Let’s get out of here."

He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, holding you close as he led you out of the alley. The warmth of his touch steadied your nerves, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to lean into him.

"Jason," you said quietly as you walked.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

He looked down at you, a small, tired smile tugging at his lips. "Always."

But even as he held you, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t the last time you’d see the Joker. And next time, you might not be so lucky