#i’m sorry for this but it needed to be done | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sillymommy6969 · 1 day ago

Text

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𝖄ES, ANGEL ᝰ! KATSEYE

˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ summary: if each katz (excluding yoonchae) is a tease and how they would react while they’re jealous/how you would react to them being a total brat > lowkey just turned into daniela and lara being jealous lmao

disclaimers: slight!nsfw, making out, harsh language, teasing, fem!reader, suggestive/sexual content (minors/men dni)

˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ Sophia Laforteza - Brat Tamer

You groaned at the foot of Sophia’s bed, slamming your phone into her duvet. You were beyond bored out of your mind. The Filipina laid just inches away from you, her laptop in her lap and her eyebrows furrowed. Her expression was stern, her eyebrows furrowed. Her focus never once pulled away from the “official Katseye business”, she called it, on her screen.

You mentally cursed her for the outfit she had on; a black pair of glasses and a big grey hoodie. The way she was sitting had the edge of her hoodie risen up just the slightest, leaving her slim figure exposed, and little to the imagination.

“It’s been hours, Fia, am I just chopped liver here, or what?” you whined, “Why did you even call me if you were busy?”

Sophia sighed, taking her glasses off with one hand. “I told you to be patient, baby. This is supposed to be in by tonight, and I’m almost done.” She leant forward slightly, enough to peck you on the temple. “Give me a couple more minutes, okay?”

You rolled your eyes, watching her go back to her laptop.

“But you’ve been working forever, and I only get to see you so many hours a week,” you groaned. When no reaction could be instigated, you grabbed her laptop, slamming it shut and slid it towards the foot of the bed. She clicked her tongue, but before she could protest, you rose a finger to her lips. “Your job is your mistress, Laforteza, and I’m sick of you putting it above me. You’re gonna pay attention to me now, or I’m leaving.”

She stared back at you with curious eyes, her lips gradually moving from a scowl to a smirk when you’d hoist yourself over her lap to straddle her. “Okay, where did this come from?”

You shrugged, wrapping your arms around her neck.

“I’m tired of you putting your work before me… If you paid half the amount of attention you did your work to me, maybe I wouldn’t have to literally pry it out of your hands.” You pouted, running your fingertips up her neck and into her hair. One of your hands drew lines along her jaw, down to her chest. “You love work more than you love me.”

Her face immediately fell, her hand raising to brush your hair from your face. “I’m so sorry I made you feel like that, mahal, but you know it’s not true.”

She wrapped her arm around your waist, and for a second, you really believed you finally had your girlfriend back--until she swiftly pressed you flush against her, your front against hers as she grabbed her laptop. Her chin found the crook of your shoulder, her glasses tipping off her nose as she read off her now lit again screen of her computer. “But I’m sorry, I really do need to finish this, or I’ll get in a lot of shit with Geffen.”

You let out a loud sigh, your body slumping in her arms.

Fine. Guess you were gonna have to do this the hard way.

Sophia hated playing this game, but when she did, she always won. You always loved to test how far you could go before she cracked and gave in, but it always ends with you begging for her instead. Alas, it was your favourite game to play.

The fast, soothing typing from her was the only sound that rung in the room. Slowly, step by step, you began removing items of clothing from Sophia.

First, off came her glasses. You easily removed them from her nose and she didn’t put up much of a fight.

Once her glasses were tucked snugly into her bedside table, you began playing with her hair draped over the hood of her sweatshirt. Sophia was very good at concentration, and like you’ve mentioned, she was very good at this game. She didn’t give in easy, not even when she knows what you’re trying to do. Your greedy hands grabbed at the hem of her hoodie, tugging them upwards as she continued typing through you.

“You’re really gonna do this?” she questioned, her voice low and demanding, “I’m warning you, mahal, this won’t end well.”

You were just more encouraged by the nickname.

“I’m not doing anything,” you smirked, “It’s getting warm in here, I’m helping you get cool.”

She scoffed in amusement, eyeing you with those beckoning eyes of hers. When you wouldn’t look away, challenging her, she turned back to her computer. “Okay, then. Let’s play.”

She let you strip her off her hoodie, but didn’t entertain your hands travelling up and down her back. You were growing impatient, grabbing at the straps of the tank she was wearing.

“Fuck, how’re you still working right now?”

She laughed at your evident frustration, her hands hovering over her keys. “I warned you, mahal. You always try and do this, but end up losing really bitterly. You still tryna play?”

You were determined to get her to abandon that damn laptop.

“Yes,” you grunted, adjusting yourself over her lap to shield her eyes away from the screen. “You’re an asshole, y’know that?”

“Mmh, really?” Sophia hummed, “You always try and play this game, but you never win, baby. Are you really that desperate?”

When she refused to let you strip her down anymore further, you adjusted yourself so she couldn’t see the screen anymore. “Fine, Fia, you win. Are you done now?”

She scoffed, closing her laptop and setting it on her bedside table. Finally, her eyes laid on you, her hands gripping your hips so you wouldn’t move around in her lap. “Oh, I’ve been done for a while. I was just tryna see how long you’d last.”

You rolled your eyes, stripping out of your own top.

“I hate you,” you murmured, “You’re the worst person ever.”

“Oh, yeah?” she smirked, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on your lips. One on your lips, one against your jaw, one on your collarbone. You let out a soft sigh. “Let’s see if you’re still saying that after I’m done with you.”

˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ Manon Bannerman - Brat Tamer/The Brat

Manon is a true tease. She will get you all hot and bothered with those cursed eyes of hers. Today, she invited you to the girls’ dance practice. She felt bad for cancelling plans for last minute rehearsal for their opening show in the Philippines in a week, so, with the approval of their team, you were welcomed to sit in on the last ten minutes.

Now, sitting across the practice room as the girls moved their way to Touch, you could sense the looks Manon were throwing your way. She was a show-off, giving 110% of herself into the choreography. Throwing smirks and winks your way.

By the end of practice, you were ready to jump her bones, right then and there in the middle of the room.

Manon bid their choreographer goodbye, grabbing her things from the corner of the room and quickly dismissing herself.

You were standing beside one of the staff members, but whatever he was talking about going in one ear and out the other. You watched as Manon swayed her way over to you, innocent smile spread across her lips.

She leant in, greeting you with a quick peck. “Hello, my love.”

You didn’t reply, biting back whatever venom you had building in your throat. For a moment, when her hand came in contact with your waist, you almost let out a lewd noise.

“Hey, y/n!” Lara called, the other girls approached you.

You managed a quick greeting, paired with a smile. You were hoping Manon would make up some excuse so the two of you could just leave and get some time alone, but when you looked over at her, she only gave you a knowing smirk.

“We’re having dinner at the dorm tomorrow night, Sophia’s cooking. My sister’s coming, I know some of Dani’s friends are coming if you wanna join!” Lara invited, earning a couple hums of agreement from the others.

“Yeah, I’d love that,” you replied, watching Lara’s expression turn awry when you shuddered slightly at Manon’s cool hand slipping up your shirt and caressing your back.

“y/n, are you okay?” Yoonchae asked, concern evident.

Manon chuckled, “Yeah, honey, you okay?”

You felt her fingers reach down, slipping past the waistband of your pants. You gulped, “I’m fine. It’s--just been a long day.”

“Okay… anyway, bring soda if you can, Sophia won’t let us do sugary drinks.” Daniela leant in to whisper, only to earn a hard hit to the head from the leader. “Ow! I didn’t say anything!”

“I heard that,” Sophia scolded, “No soda, y/n.”

You nodded, pressing your lips together to keep yourself composed. Manon could go all day if she could, but she was really hoping to relax a little… with your help.

“Okay, I’ll see you guys at home.” she announced.

You followed her outside to her car. Once you slid into the passenger seat, she shut the door and started the engine.

"Are you insane? That was so close, I was so sure we were gonna traumatize Yoonchae or something,” you scolded, leaning over to nudge her shoulder. “Jesus Christ, Manz, I know we haven’t seen each other in a bit, but you can at least keep it in your pants until we’re alone.”

“Like we are right now?” Manon glanced at you, her eyes narrowing. She leant over, stealing a kiss from you. She chuckled when you leant in further for another, pulling back with a smirk. “Can you blame me? I finally get you in my hands and you think I’ll wait? Do you even know me?”

"Oh my God, how are you an adult?" You scoffed, but the teasing glint in your eye gave you away. "You truly have the sex drive of a sixteen year old boy."

Manon laughed, her eyes softening as she glanced at you again. "You want sex drive? I can give you sex drive." She shifted in her seat, and before you could even process what was happening, she leaned over and kissed you quickly, just enough to leave you breathless.

You blinked, momentarily stunned, before shaking your head. "That’s not what I meant, we’re still in the parking lot.”

She pulled back slightly, grinning. "And that stops me, how?”

"You’re such a tease," you scoffed, still smiling. "I’m surprised you’re controlling yourself so well right now."

Manon gasped, slamming a fist against her chest dramatically. "You don’t know how much this guts me, to not be able to fuck you in the middle of my work parking lot right now."

You couldn't help but laugh at the idea, even if the thought of her dancing just for you had your heart racing a little.

"Drive, Manz, we’ll test that teenage boy sex drive of yours.”

˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ Daniela Avanzini - The Brat

Daniela is a jealous, jealous, jealous girl. She cannot stand, even the thought of you getting close with anybody without her there to supervise you.

The last time you laughed around your friend, Heeseung a little too hard at dinner, you woke up the next morning with every inch of your skin aching with bruises spelling out Daniela’s name, whom slept soundly with her arms and legs wrapped around your body. Though, she was also the Queen of double standards, because she loves flirting with anybody--and everybody--in her line of vision when she’s in need of attention.

Today, you came to pick her up from a schedule, because you thought, “it’s not everyday I get to see my girlfriend, it would be a nice little surprise for her”.

But oh, no. You just had to start chatting with the new guy.

Luke was the new security guard standing at the front desk. He was a tall, clean-cut guy with the most innocent features. He carried a bright smile for whomever passed his doors, and you were no exception. When you registered yourself a guest, he begun stirring a conversation about Katseye.

He asked you about Daniela, and when you began talking, you just couldn’t stop.

Unfortunately, that’s what Daniela saw too. When the elevator doors opened, the last thing she expected was to see you. For a moment, her heart skipped a beat at the sight of your familiar head of hair. You were standing in all your glory, the light at the end of a long tunnel of media schedules.

But her heart sunk when she heard your heavenly laugh.

Just as Luke started talking about some new shift schedules, you saw Daniela striding toward you. There was an instant shift in her posture when she saw you and Luke talking. Her smile, usually so warm, turned into something more neutral, and you could tell she wasn’t entirely comfortable.

“Hey, honey,” you greeted her, but she didn’t quite meet your eyes, her attention on Luke instead.

“Hey,” she responded, a little more curt than usual, before offering a tight smile in his direction. “You good?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” Luke said, flashing a grin at her. “Looking great as always, Dani.”

Her expression flickered for a moment, her lips tight, but she didn’t say anything back. It felt like the air in the room shifted, and you felt an odd tension building between the three of you. You tried to ease the situation.

“Well, we should get going,” you said quickly, wanting to break up the awkwardness. “I got us dinner reservations.”

But Daniela didn’t move, her eyes flicking between you and Luke for a second before she reached over and took your wrist firmly, pulling you toward the hallway. You raised an eyebrow, surprised by her sudden change in demeanor, but she didn’t give you a chance to ask anything.

The two of you quickly found your way into the nearest bathroom. Once the door clicked shut behind you, Daniela turned to face you, her jaw tight, her lips pressed together in a way that made your stomach tighten with nerves.

“Hey, what’s going on?” you asked, worried you’d done something wrong.

She didn’t say anything at first. Instead, she moved closer, her hands settling on your arms as she looked you in the eye. You could see the frustration in her gaze, and the way she took a deep breath before speaking made your heart race.

“I don’t like it,” she muttered, her voice low but serious.

“Don’t like what?” you asked, feeling confused.

Her grip tightened slightly, her voice soft but firm. “Luke. He’s always checking you out. I don’t like it.”

You blinked, processing her words. “Dani, he wasn’t checking me out, we were just talking. He was just trying to make conversation. There’s nothing to worry about.”

She seemed to struggle for a moment, her face softening a bit, but there was still a trace of jealousy in her eyes. “Yeah, well, if you get to eye fuck Luke, maybe I should find someone too.”

You reached up, cupping her face gently with both hands, trying to calm her down. “What? What the fuck?”

For a moment, she just looked at you, her expression conflicted. Then, she exhaled, clearly trying to calm herself. “I’m saying, what about I go have a chat with Justin, huh?”

Justin was a young intern on Katseye’s team. It was obvious to anyone with eyes he had a fat crush on Daniela. You’ve had a conversation with her about it, and she assured you there was absolutely nothing to worry about with Justin.

You stepped closer to her, grabbing the back of her neck with a hand, her waist with the other. Your lips locked in a fast, hot kiss. She pulled away, catching her breath. “Wanna say that again, Avanzini?”

She toyed with your hair, and she smirked.

You were exactly where she wanted you to be.

“Why don’t you go ask Luke, I think I have Justin’s number in my phone…” When she goes to grab her phone from her pocket, you grabbed her wrist, slinging it around your neck. Your grabbed her hips, propping her onto the counter.

“Get his number off your phone right now.” you demanded.

“Why, you don’t like ‘Luke the security guard’ anymore?” she scoffed, rolling her eyes. She turned her head to look away, but you grabbed her cheeks gently, turning her back to you.

“No, he’s out of my mind. And by the time we leave here, Justin will be out of yours.”

˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ Lara Raj - Brat Tamer

Lara was a very accepting, easy-going girlfriend. She didn’t care if you went out clubbing with a bunch of guys who were obviously into you, or get jealous when the barista at your local cafe kept writing her number on your coffee. But if there was one thing Lara did not tolerate was you talking to your ex.

A complete stranger flirting with you? Whatever, it’s not that big a deal. This person who’s seen you butt naked before her? Absolutely not, she’s launching every nuclear missile she can.

You and Minji didn’t date long, it was more of a high-school sweetheart kinda relationship.

When Minji graduated a year before you, the two of you kinda broke it off. And by kinda, I mean she promised she would come back and marry you one day when she’s earned enough to take you around the world, so--yeah, it was safe to say Minji was not over you, even now, years after the two of you had called it quiets peacefully.

Even at the mention of her name had Lara boiling with anger.

She absolutely hated how obsessed with you Minji was--and still is. She wouldn’t even care this much if she wanted you physically, if she just missed hooking up with you, but this was love we were talking about. Feelings. Lara hated feelings, especially when they were from another woman for her girl.

You promised Lara one day you would meet her at home, just going out to grab a quick coffee after your morning jog. She hadn’t woken up yet, and you wanted to get your run out of the way so you could spend the day with her.

Once you placed your order, and once again turned down the barista’s persistent advances, you waited for your name.

“I see you’re still a screenager,” a voice pointed out softly in front of you, your head shot up to see Minji’s familiar features. She had a small smile on, “I was hoping I’d run into you here.”

You scoffed, immediately accepting her invitation for a hug.

“Oh my God, you’re back in town! Last time I saw you, you were off in Korea getting famous,” you beamed, “I can’t believe you’re here, and you didn’t call me!”

Oh, did I mention the two of you were best friends first?

“Yeah, well, I was hoping to surprise you. I’m off on break, and my sister really wanted to come to Cali, so here I am.” Her hands slid into the pockets of her jeans. “Since you’re here already, would you like to join me for a coffee? Are scones still your favourite breakfast pastry? I’ll get you one.”

You chuckled softly, shaking your head.

“I’d love to, but… my girlfriend’s waiting at home.”

Your name was called before she could answer, you thanked the runner, grabbing the two cups of coffee from her. You held them up for Minji to see, “I’m surprising her with her fav.”

She nodded, gulping. “Girlfriend? Cool… what’s her name?”

“Lara. She’s super busy, so I don’t get her alone most of the time--I’d love to catch up some other time this week though, how long are you staying for?” You almost felt bad when you noticed the slight falter in her expression. It was like kicking a little puppy. But you were really exited to see your girlfriend.

Little did you know, said girlfriend was awake and wanting to surprise you as well. She was hoping she would go in and out of the cafe and have you come home to breakfast.

But to be greeted by the sight of you talking to, none other than, the legendary Kim Minji.

Two cups of coffee in your hands, smiling and talking with Minji. You were hunched over her phone, held out so you could read her calendar. She watched as Minji’s eyes turned from her phone to your cheek, inches away from hers.

Oh, Lara was ready to blow the place up.

“Great, you’ll text me this time then?” you joked, earning a light chuckle from Minji. She hummed, “Yeah, I will.”

A hand palmed the small of your back, a taller figure looming over your shoulder. You looked down, seeing familiar rings on a hand you would only assume to be your girlfriend’s. Your body relaxed, tense shoulders easing upon looking up to see Lara.

“Oh, hey, baby, I didn’t know you’d be awake.”

She kissed your forehead, ignoring your statement. Her eyes focused solely on the woman standing inches away from you. Minji swallowed thickly, intimidated by the woman’s dark aesthetic. The eyes, it was always the eyes. If two people were to look at the both of them, they would never be able to tell you dated both these women.

“You must be Lara then,” Minji said, clearing her throat. “y/n was just telling me about you. I’m Kim Minji.”

You smiled at the Korean’s polite introduction. You looked up at the Indian singer, whose jaw tightened, her eyes dull and judgemental. Your smile slowly faded at the rising tension as neither of them spoke, before Lara broke the silence.

“The Kim Minji you dated?”

You swatted her arm, “Lara--!”

“Actually, Minji, I appreciate you being so nice to my girlfriend, but I don’t think she’ll be able to make it this week,” Lara threw her a smirk, “She’ll be too busy hanging out with me. Have a good time in LA though, it’s a very nice city.”

As she ushered you out the cafe, you threw Minji a quick mouthed apology before gesturing for her to text you.

The gesture didn’t escape Lara’s hawk eyes.

“Really? ‘Oh, Minji, your phone is so far away, let me lean in and look at it closer’, ‘Oh, Minji, I’m sorry my girlfriend doesn’t like you, you’re still giving me heart eyes like you’re about to get on one knee in the middle of this shitty cafe’.”

“Hey!” you barked, “You love that cafe.”

“Who cares about the stupid cafe, you were flirting with your ex--who should go back to Korea ‘cuz I don’t want her here.” Lara snarled, looking past your shoulder through the windows of the cafe outside to see Minji trying her best to avoid either of your gazes.

“Okay, first off, that sounded like there were hella racial undertones,” you pointed out, crossing your arms, “Second of all, I was not flirting with Minji, we ran into each other while I was trying to grab you coffee--mind you, exactly the way I know you like it before I got ambushed by you being rude to the poor girl. Seriously, if I was flirting, you’d know, Lara, ‘cuz she’d be on her knees already.”

The older’s face grimaced at the statement.

“Oh, yeah? You think you’re that irresistible?” she scoffed, her tongue sticking against her inner-cheek.

“You sure think Minji thinks so,” you teased, “So why don’t I go in there and prove you right?”

Just as you were about to re-enter the cafe, Lara grabbed you and spun you so she’d stand in between you and the door. “Absolutely the fuck not, you’re not seeing this woman under any circumstances, you hear me?”

“Why is that, Raja, think you’ll lose to Minji?” you taunted.

Taken aback, Lara grew silent with widened eyes. She never pegged you for the lippy type. You were always much more lax with things, and it was something she admired greatly about you. The new side of you was foreign, but not unwelcome.

“Really?” she scoffed, amused at your sassy attitude.

“Really,” you nodded. “Shall we go, or not?”

“Okay, baby, why don’t we go get some real breakfast?” she smirked, and before you knew it you were speeding home in her black BMW. She got a real good munch is all I have to say.

˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ Megan Skiendiel - The Brat

Megan was the most bizarre human being you have ever met--and you absolutely loved the fact you never got bored around her. You could tell at the very beginning of your relationship, she was trying hard to be “normal” so she wouldn’t scare you off, but she would then find out you were, if not worse, just as bad as her at being nonchalant.

She tries not to show when something bothers her, but it’s usually so obvious she’s trying to hide something that you notice immediately. She had zero poker face.

So when you had to go off and do whatever it is you had to do with your busy schedule, especially on a rare day off for her, she was evidently down. Her texts were growing shorter and more melancholy, and as bad as it made you feel for not being able to just lay in bed at home with her, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself at her puppy persona.

meggerz <3 Okay then

meggerz <3 Text me when you’re otw home

meggerz <3 I miss you pretty

Eventually, you had to avert your attention back on your work before you sidetracked too far. But the consistent buzzing of your phone kept pulling your gaze towards the screen.

meggerz <3 I miss youuuuuuuu

meggerz <3 The bed feels so empty rn

meggerz <3 Please just come home

meggerz <3 If I called them and told them there was a bomb hidden somewhere in the building will you get sent home?

meggerz <3 Ignoring me is crazy work

meggerz <3 Ugh need my sexy hot gf right abt now

Your fingers hovered over the keys, typing and deleting responses in an attempt to steer her into a quiet zone. But no, that wasn’t her style. She wasn’t the type to settle for a simple conversation, and you knew that.

meggerz <3 What are you working on?

meggerz <3 How is it more important than me :((

meggerz <3 Please pretty? I miss you…

You groaned, pulling a hand through your hair. You wished you could shut your phone off, but you also didn’t want to hurt her feelings. You knew your girlfriend just needed some love.

You bit your lip, glancing at your work. You really should finish this last report, but her message made your chest tighten. You missed her, too. You were practically aching for her touch, her presence. A small part of you wished you could be done with work already, but you still had to finish.

But come on, did you really think it was about to be simple?

But your phone kept ringing, and each ping of the texts dug into your concentration, chilling away at it like Michelangelo to marble. After an eternity of distractions, you finally hit send on the last report. The moment it was out of the way, you let out a breath of relief and immediately grabbed your things.

You couldn’t wait to get home. You couldn’t wait to see her.

When you walked through the door, you found her sprawled on the couch, her eyes glued to her phone. She looked up and grinned when she saw you, but there was a softness in her expression too, like she had been waiting for this moment all day. You smiled, feeling your heart race as you knelt beside her. Her eyes curved, but you could tell she was tired. You’d barely sat down before you scooped her up, pulling her into your lap.

“Baby, you’ve been texting me all day,” you murmured, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “What do you need?”

She sighed dramatically, nestling into your chest. “I just missed you,” she mumbled, voice thick with longing.

You kissed her forehead, rubbing her back softly, and soon, the chaos of the day began to melt away. “Okay, you have me, ma’am. Wanna go take a bath and get some Thai?”

She nodded, wrapping her arms around you. “That sounds like exactly what could make up for your stupid work.”

౨ৎ author’s note: lowkey might make the lara one a full blown two-part fic cuz i just got inspired but idk…

246 notes · View notes

tinythebunni · 2 days ago

Text

How bunnyprincess!reader and Rafe met!!

inspired by @rafesangelita @princessbrunette

Rafe always came to the country club on the weekends and on Wednesdays to play golf with his friends. He wore a polo every time and always had his shoes shined pristine. Rafe usually ended up winning and afterwards he’d go inside to sit by the bar or swim in the pool.

After a long and tedious match, Rafe ended up losing. He wasn’t completely locked in on the match due to the argument with Rose this morning.

Walking inside and huffing a sigh, he took off his shirt and slouched in the lounge chair with Kelce and Topper joining him. Rafe ran his hand through his sweaty buzzed hair and used his shirt to wipe his head. He closed his eyes, zoning out the stupid conversation around him.

his head was fucking pounding and their nonsensical ramblings made him even more and more irritated. pinching the bridge of his nose he sighed as he heard someone walking over to them. probably one of those fucking bartenders, he thought to himself.

Rafe was ready to just up and leave at this point but then he noticed 3 things. He could smell the sweet scent of your perfume. Smelled of cupcakes and the sugar cookies his mom would make. Your voice sounded of honey drizzling. And when he opened his eyes, his lashes flutter at how beautiful you were.

“Hai guys! The usual?” you spoke as you pulled out your notepad. your eyes did a sweep over the three guys in front of you, lingering a bit on him. Rafe was very fucking confused, he’d never seen you before and he definitely would know.

Kelce went to open his mouth but Rafe was faster than him. “What’s your name?” He spoke, sounding a little more angry than he meant to.

“Oh i’m sorry if i interrupted your nap, i just know that these two like to-“ He cut you off once more.

“Forget about it bun, ‘m not worried bout it. last fucking thing on my mind right now.”

you blushed and blinked, wide eyed. You told him your name, pen resting on your lip as you looked at him. He introduced himself to you and stood. he towered over you, which was unusual. being tall yourself, you often felt like a giant compared to most guys on the island.

Rafe smirked at your reaction, a laugh bubbling out his throat. You could sense the God inside him, aching to be let out. Maybe you were a bit dramatic but you’re just a teenage girl!

Stepping closer to you, he put his hand on your hip and turned you so that you were right next to him. He slid his hand to the small of your back, whispering a quick come with me to you before turning around and smiling at the boys.

“Rafe come on! Ya can’t keep stealing the pretty girls.” Topper yelled in exasperation, throwing his hands up.

Rafe chuckled before saying something that made your heart flutter. “You don’t gotta worry bout that no more. I want to keep this one. Make her mine and all that” he replied.

As he lead you away to a table in the corner, he asked you little questions. Mainly about your love life, what you were doing at this bar. “girl like you should never have to work. too pretty for all that shit” He added, watching as you glanced down as if your shoes were the most interesting thing in the world.

his thumb tilted your head up and you looked away nervously. “Hey hey. none of that shit. Look at me.” You did as he said, not wanting to lose his attention. “you should have someone providing for you. So you can do all that girly shit yall like and not worry about it.” He watched as you smiled, eating up your reaction. His tounge darts out to swipe at his bottom lip before he speaks again.

“I could be that for you. All my money just rots in my fucking bank account anyways. You want me to be that for you? Could be your boyfriend. Keep your tummy full, nails done, and make you feel good. Whenever you need it.” His words made you flush, your chest blooming with nerves and anxiety. But in the best way possible.

You nodded, your eyes a bit glossy at the casual dominance. You’d always been one to prefer when people take charge about certain things. And this? it was perfect. “Yea. I’d really like dat Rafe.” You stepped closer, making a move. You placed your hand on his chest and stood on your tip toes to kiss his cheek. “Can you wait for me to finish my shift? It’s over in 30 and I wanna talk to you more” you pouted trying to win him over as you regained your confidence.

“Fuck yea!” he said a little too excited. “I mean, yea yea for sure.” he corrected, nodding his head and he turned on his heel. You watched him walk away, noticing the slight bounce in his step.

324 notes · View notes

stylesispunk · 3 days ago

Text

The soldier in the armour | part iv

Marcus Acacius x f!reader

masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter

summary: Acacius put his plan on march, starting by sending you away with a sealing promise of returning back to you, but you cannot bear the thought of him fighting alone, and some plans are destroyed.

wc: 7k (lazy)

warnings: angst, age gap, mentions of miscarriage, blood, violence against women, power imbalance, kissing without consent, mentions of death. The events of this chapter happen on the same night.

a/n: Sorry for being so lazy about writing and updating lately. I'm just a teacher on her summer break. This one will be intense. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. Happy reading. 💌

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

"Hold my hand," Acacius said, extending his arm toward you. You were sitting by the fountain, feeding the fish. The last couple of days had been torture for you, and he wanted nothing more than to shower you with acts of love from the deepest part of his heart.

You looked up, your eyes meeting his. There was a softness in his gaze, a quiet determination that melted the tension in your chest. The cool breeze rustled the leaves above, and for a brief moment, the world seemed to pause.

Reluctantly, you placed your hand in his, feeling the warmth of his touch seep into your skin. He gave a gentle squeeze, as if trying to transfer some unspoken strength to you.

"Come," he whispered, his voice a balm against the chaos of your thoughts. "Let me take you somewhere…”

You hesitated, glancing back at the rippling water, watching the fish dart beneath the surface. But the pull of his presence was stronger. You stood, your fingers still entwined with his, and allowed him to lead you away from the weight of the past few days.

He led you through a narrow corridor you didn’t recognize, its walls lined with ivy that crept in through tiny cracks. At the very end, hidden behind a heavy wooden door, Acacius paused. He glanced back at you, a small, knowing smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“No one else knows about this place,” he murmured, his voice low, almost conspiratorial. “It’s just for us.”

He pushed the door open with a soft creak, revealing a hidden courtyard tucked away from the rest of the villa. It was small, intimate, overgrown with wildflowers and shaded by an ancient olive tree whose twisted branches reached out like protective arms. The air smelled of lavender and sun-warmed stone, and the only sounds were the gentle rustle of leaves and the distant song of cicadas at dawn.

Acacius turned to you, his expression softening. “I come here when I need to feel... whole again.” His thumb brushed over your knuckles, lingering. “And I thought maybe, just maybe, it could help you too.”

There was a strange tone on his voice, as if he was lingering to your presence before slipping away from you, but you decided to ignore the nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach.

"I know you're worried” you whispered, looking up at him to meet his gaze, smiling softly “but I’m gonna be fine. I’ll recover from this someday.”

“Can I confess you something?” He asked almost ashamed of the question

You nodded, inviting him to speak his truth.

"This is embarrassing for a general but I'm really scared."He confessed, “I…I have someone to lose this time"

Your breath hitched and sudden wave of anxiety crept into your bones.

"You won't lose me" you reassured, caressing his checks with your fingertips.

"From all the battles I fought. Falling in love with you came easily to me...I thought it was going to be difficult for a man like me to be deserving of someone like you.

"This sounds like a goodbye and I don't like that tone in your voice." You said, voice breaking at the thought.

“You know things could go wrong-“

“They will not.” You interrupted, reassuring him once again.

“Allowing myself to know you and love you has been the bravest thing I've ever done," he whispered, his voice trembling just enough for you to hear the depth of his fear, and his love.

Before you could respond, his hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you gently but urgently toward him. His lips met yours in a kiss that was both fierce and tender, as if he were pouring every feeling inside on it, every hidden feeling into that single, breath-stealing moment. The world around you seemed to dissolve, the rustling leaves, the distant cicadas, all fading into the background as the warmth of his mouth ignited something deep within you.

Your heart raced, the anxiety still humming in the edges of your mind, but his touch grounded you, as always. You let your fingers trail through his hair, pulling him closer, as if anchoring him to this promise you both silently made.

You won't lose me. We won’t lose each other.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, both of you breathless, hearts pounding in the same rhythm, at the same time. His eyes searched yours, as if trying to memorize this moment, to etch it into his soul.

Then, without warning, he kissed you again, this time with a raw urgency that stole the air left from your lungs. His hands slid from your jaw down to your waist, gripping you as though he could mold your bodies into one. His fingertips dug into your skin, tracing every curve, every inch he could reach, as if committing the feel of you to memory.

You responded in kind, your hands roaming over his shoulders, his back, clutching at the fabric of his tunic like it was the only thing tethering you to reality. The heat between you was electric, a fire burning bright against the looming shadow of what was to come.

When he finally pulled back again, his breath was ragged, his lips lingering against yours for a fleeting second longer. His hands framed your face now, thumbs brushing softly against your cheeks in contrast to the urgency of moments before. His gaze was heavy, filled with a thousand words he couldn’t seem to say.

He leaned in, pressing one lingering kiss to your forehead, his lips warm against your skin.

"My heart, my body and my soul belong to you in every lifetime." He whispered, nosing your neck, savoring the taste of your skin.

"My heart, my body and my soul belong to you in every lifetime. Since the day you saved me from the bathtub and sword you would love me." You whispered the same words back because you meant them.

He smiled against your neck, feeling his eyes watering already. For a man of a thousand battles these shows of affection tended to seen as a sign of weakness. But by your side he learnt about the vulnerability that it came when you loved someone.

You smelled like calm lavender, and your souls interviewed in an unbreakable thread destined to meet in every single lifetime.

You were his person; the best Rome had ever given him back for all the duty and sacrifice. It broke his heart to send you away.

He didn’t fear death anymore, but not seeing you again broke him.

Acacius helped you up, his strong arm supporting you, your heart still ached with the lingering sensation of his words, his love, his devotion. You walked together, the world outside the villa seeming quieter. His hand remained gently wrapped around yours.

When you reached back to the villa, the air felt heavy, as if something was waiting for you there. The grand doors opened to reveal Lucilla standing near the font, her hands trembling slightly as she stood motionless, her gaze distant. Her expression was clouded with worry, yet there was an undeniable sorrow in her eyes that you couldn’t ignore.

“Mother, what’s wrong?” you asked, stepping forward, concern flooding your chest as you glanced between her and Acacius.

Lucilla turned her head slowly, her eyes brimming with tears.

"They are here" she said, painfully ignoring your questions as she looked at Acacius.

"It's time" he said, painfully, avoiding looking at you for a moment, then he glanced at you "Look. They are some of my men. They are here to take you out-“

"I don't want to leave" you protested, coming to Lucilla, "Mother, please don't do this again. Come with me"

You stepped back, your heart twisting painfully as you listened to Acacius, walking to your mother.

"I don't want to leave," you protested again, your voice trembling. You reached for her, the distance between you growing wider with every passing second. "Mother, please don't do this again. Come with me."

Lucilla’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears, and for a moment, she looked as though she might give in. But the sorrow on her face deepened, and she shook her head gently. "I cannot, my dear. I failed Lucius once." Her voice cracked as she spoke his name, a deep, haunting sadness settling over her. "I won’t fail you too. Not again."

You felt the sting of her words like a dagger in your chest. She was leaving you, just like she had left him. The memories of her absence in the darkest moments of your life, when you were fighting for survival, flashed before your eyes, and the thought of repeating that same pain was unbearable.

"So, you're failing me now?" you asked, the sharpness in your tone betraying the hurt you felt. Your breath was ragged as you held back tears, frustration and confusion bubbling up inside you.

Lucilla stepped forward, her hands trembling as she reached for you, but she stopped just short of touching you. "Oh no," she whispered, shaking her head. "I cannot bear the thought of losing you to this. If you're away, Geta won’t be able to use you as a tool against Acacius or me. I can't risk you being taken from me as he was."

The words stung, but in them, you realized the depth of her fear. She wasn’t abandoning you, she was trying to protect you, to keep you safe in a world where everything felt uncertain and dangerous.

"But I don’t want to be safe without you," you said softly, your voice breaking. "I can't go alone.”

Lucilla looked at you, her gaze softening for a brief moment, but the fear in her eyes remained. "I love you too much," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "And I can't watch you suffer here.”

Acacius stood behind you, his hand gently resting on your shoulder. His presence was a steady anchor in the storm of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. He knew how hard this was for you, but his silence spoke volumes. He understood what it meant to love and lose, and now, he was offering you something that felt like the only way forward.

Lucilla’s voice quivered as she took a step back, her hands clenched at her sides. "I cannot go with you... but I will wait for you here. And I will pray that one day you come back to me. That we both do."

You felt as though your heart was being torn in two—torn between the woman who had given you life and the man who had become your lifeline. The conflict swirled in your chest, but all you could do was nod, unable to find the right words.

"I love you," you whispered softly to her, your voice breaking as the tears finally fell.

Lucilla gave you a sad, bittersweet smile. "I love you too, my darling. Always."

You turned to Acacius, your heart sinking at the pained expression that crossed his face as his gaze shifted from you to the three men who had appeared in the distance. His posture stiffened, his eyes narrowing as they approached with purposeful strides.

The moment felt heavy, like the air itself was holding its breath. His soldiers had arrived. The plan was set in motion. The urgency of the situation weighed down on both of you, but there was something else, something unspoken in the way Acacius held himself. His pain, too, was palpable. As much as he had sworn to protect you, he knew what this moment meant. The time for goodbyes was closing in, and there was no turning back.

"Acacius..." you whispered, your voice trembling as you reached for his hand. But he stepped back slightly, his jaw tightening as his men neared.

He glanced over his shoulder at you, his eyes full of regret and determination. "You need to go. Now."

The men stopped in front of him, their faces unreadable but their posture betraying the tension of the moment. Acacius addressed them with a tone that brooked no argument, his voice firm but clipped.

"Prepare the horses," he commanded, and one of them nodded before heading off to carry out his orders.

You looked at Acacius, pain flickering in your chest as you realized that the next few moments would change everything. The world you had known was slipping away, and there was no going back to the life you had before.

"You’re leaving me, aren’t you?" you asked, the words slipping from your lips before you could stop them.

Acacius looked at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable, but his gaze softened when he saw the hurt in your eyes. "No. I’m not leaving you." His voice was low and full of certainty, though there was a storm of emotions raging behind those words. "I’ll never leave you. But I need you to trust me now."

You nodded, though the uncertainty in your chest remained. His men were getting ready, and you knew that there was no time left to hesitate.

"Promise me you’ll come to get me back," you said quietly, the words more of a plea than a command.

Acacius stepped closer, his hand brushing the side of your face, his thumb tenderly tracing over your skin. "I swear," he said, his voice raw and filled with emotion. "I’ll come back for you. I’ll do everything in my power to make sure we’re together again."

The words were like a lifeline, but the storm of emotions raging in your chest made it hard to hold on to them. You wanted to believe him more than anything, but the world was so unpredictable, and you knew better than to expect anything in these dark times.

As Acacius turned to give orders to his men, you felt the weight of the world crashing down on you, the finality of this moment settling into your bones. You wanted to run to him, to beg him to let you stay, but you couldn’t, because deep down, you knew what he was doing was necessary.

This was bigger than the two of you.

Acacius cupped your face once more, his eyes soft but heavy with the weight of what was to come. He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a gentle, lingering kiss, one that spoke of promises and unspoken fears. His touch was tender, like it was the last thing he could give you before everything changed.

"Be safe," he whispered against your lips, his breath warm and full of urgency. "No matter what happens, remember that I will always love you."

Your heart ached as his words sank in, the depth of his devotion resonating through every fiber of your being. You nodded, though your throat tightened, unable to find the words to express what you felt. His love, his promise, were everything you had left to hold on to in this fleeting moment.

He stepped back slightly, his hand still resting on your cheek, and without another word, he helped you onto the horse. His movements were swift and precise, his touch strong but careful as he steadied you in the saddle. His gaze never left yours, filled with a quiet desperation, as though he could somehow will the situation to change with just his stare.

As he stood next to the horse, his hand resting on the reins, he gave a final, lingering look, as though imprinting you into his memory. Then, with a slow exhale, he spoke again, his voice filled with finality.

"Trust in me," he said, his eyes intense. "No matter what happens, trust that I will find a way back to you."

His men began to move in the background, preparing to take you away. Acacius placed one last kiss on your forehead, a soft, lingering touch that felt like it was marking the end of a chapter. The taste of his lips, the warmth of his presence, remained with you, even as he pulled away and nodded to his soldiers.

With a final glance, he stepped back, his face a mixture of sorrow and determination. His hand reached out toward you one last time, as if he wanted to pull you into his arms, to hold you just a moment longer. But he didn’t. He couldn’t.

"Go," he said quietly, the word almost a command, but it carried so much emotion that it cut deep.

As the men took the reins of your horse and started moving you away, you cast one last look over your shoulder. Acacius stood there, still watching you, his face a mask of stoic resolve but his eyes betraying the pain that he had hidden behind his duty.

And then, as you were carried further away, the world around you began to blur. The sound of horses’ hooves pounding against the earth, the rustling of the wind, it all faded as you focused on the one thing that remained clear.

As the path beyond you seemed to haunt you, you tightened the cloak around your shoulders, its coarse fabric doing little to shield you from the chill that seeped into your bones. Every step away from the villa felt heavier and suffocating, each one pulling you farther from Acacius, your mother, and Lucius. The road stretched ahead, but your mind remained trapped in the past, tangled in memories and regrets.

You couldn’t shake the image of Acacius’s eyes, the way they softened when he looked at you, or the feel of his lips pressed against your forehead. The smell of lavender on his neck that seemed to lullaby you into sleep every time he wrapped his strong arms around you. Your heart ached thinking about your mother, her face etched with sorrow and strength as she pushed you to safety. And Lucius, your brother, the rightful emperor of Rome, forced to live as a slave under a name that was never his.

As Acacius's men guided you through the winding paths, the weight of your separation grew unbearable. You were being secured by Acacius’s army, hidden away from the dangers that loomed, but it felt more like a prison than protection. You were trapped in the middle of something larger than yourself, and the distance only amplified the helplessness curling in your chest.

Meanwhile, back at the villa, Acacius stood frozen, his gaze fixed on the direction you had disappeared. His heart clenched painfully, the hollow ache of your absence settling deep within him. A single tear escaped down his cheek, betraying the stoic facade he tried to maintain. The emptiness in his chest felt insurmountable, as if a piece of him had been torn away.

You were the Achilles heel on his life, he couldn’t bear the thought of you being away from his protection.

Lucilla, seeing the turmoil etched across his face, stepped forward and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “She’s strong, like her father” she whispered, her voice steady despite the tears glistening in her own eyes. “And you will find your way back to her.”

Acacius’s jaw tightened, his hand coming to rest over Lucilla’s in silent acknowledgment. The touch sent shivers down his spine; it wasn’t love but understanding. The both of you letting go your heart away.

His eyes never wavered from the path you had taken, his heart silently vowing that no matter what, he would find you again.

Beneath the cloak, you knew you hadn’t far away from the villa. Just one bold movement and you could go back.

There was a weight that became heavier to bear. Acacius would risk his life to free an empire from its tyranny, and perhaps the power would go back to your family while your mother would get stuck in the middle and Lucius real identity would display.

Suddenly, the weight of it all became unbearable. Without thinking, you yanked on the reins, bringing the horse to a skidding halt. The men guarding you shouted in alarm, but their voices were distant echoes compared to the roaring in your ears. You leapt off the horse, your feet hitting the ground hard, and before they could react, you were running, running back towards the villa, towards the people you couldn’t abandon.

"Stop! Come back!" Acacius's men called after you, their voices laced with desperation. But you didn’t listen. You couldn’t. You wouldn’t let them risk their lives while you hid away, blind to whatever horrors might unfold.

you couldn’t turn your back on them. Not now. Now after all.

You were stronger than that. You were the daughter of Maximus Decimus, a man of honor.

You wouldn’t let them risk their lives while you hid away, blind to whatever horrors might unfold. The wind tore at your cloak, your breath coming in ragged gasps as your feet pounded the dirt path. Every step closer to the villa felt like shedding a layer of fear, replaced by a fierce, unyielding resolve.

The villa loomed in the distance; it brought a strange comfort to your heart. Your mind raced faster than your legs, what if you were too late? What if Acacius or your mother were already in danger? The thought spurred you on, ignoring the burning in your lungs and the aching in your legs.

Behind you, the shouts of Acacius’s men grew fainter, their figures shrinking against the horizon. But your heart was set, you belonged there, in the thick of it, facing whatever fate awaited alongside those you loved. As the gates of the villa came into view, your heart pounded not from exhaustion, but from the sheer force of your determination.

You were almost there.

"Acacius!" you shouted, breathless as you reached the entrance. As soon as he came into view, you crashed into him, and he caught you effortlessly, his arms wrapping around you in an embrace that felt like home.

"What are you doing here?" His voice was hushed, desperate, his hands moving to cradle your face, as if he needed to be sure you were real.

"I can't-" you gasped out, struggling to steady your breath. "Don't ask me to run away while you stay here. Please, don’t."

His fingers traced your jaw, his forehead pressing against yours as he exhaled shakily. "I can’t put you in danger," he whispered. "I won’t."

You closed your eyes, your breath mingling with his. His warmth surrounded you, grounding you, but the ache in your chest only grew stronger.

"How?" you whispered, searching his eyes. "How can I leave when you will be here fighting?

Acacius’s jaw clenched. "You know what will happen if you stay—"

"And you know what will happen if I go!" You pulled back slightly, forcing him to see the determination burning in your eyes. "I grew up in a world where privilege was handed to me until it wasn’t. My heart was humble until it wasn’t. I never realized how greedy I could be until I met you, until my heart started beating for you. I want everything that comes from you—your words, your breath, your smile, your heart, you. And if there is a chance, they take you from me, then I’d rather meet the spirits myself than live in a world where you don’t exist."

His breath hitched, and for the first time, you saw something break in him. A vulnerability so raw it threatened to consume you both. His hands trembled against your cheeks, his thumbs brushing away the tears you hadn’t realized had fallen.

"Please," he pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper. "Don’t make this harder for me."

Your heart twisted painfully. "Then don’t make it harder for me, either. You already know how voiceless women are here. Let me make my choice for once."

His eyes darkened with conflict, with love, with fear. And then, without another word, he crushed his lips against yours. it was a desperate, aching plea. A promise. A surrender.

When he pulled away, his breath was ragged, his hands still cupping your face as though afraid you’d disappear.

"Then stay," he whispered. "And if the gods are kind, we will survive this together."

But you were afraid the gods had never been kind to lovers like you.

Lucilla watched the exchange in silence before stepping forward. "My child," she said gently, "I know you are willing to risk your life for those you love. But this is not a fight you can win with your heart.”

You turned to her, desperation burning in your eyes. "I know this villa better than anyone. I grew up here. I know every passage, every hidden corridor. If I can get to Lucius, I can free him. We can hide. We can escape and Acacius and his army will free Rome."

"No," Acacius said immediately, shaking his head. "Absolutely not."

"He’s my brother!" you argued.

"And what happens when you get caught?" Lucilla’s voice was softer, but no less firm. "You think Geta or Caracalla will show mercy to you? He’ll use you against us, just as he always intended."

Acacius tightened his grip on you. "You are the only thing keeping me from turning this entire city to dust. If something happens to you, I won’t stop. I won’t care about the cost."

You swallowed hard, your chest rising and falling with each rapid breath. "Then let me help you. Let me help Lucius."

"The best way to help is to stay safe," Lucilla insisted. "We will find a way, Acacius-“

“Lucius will refuse Acaciu’s help.” You interrupted, “He took the city he was in, but I’m his sister.”

Acacius's jaw tightened, his eyes dark with frustration and the fear it came when danger seemed to follow you. He shook his head. "That’s exactly why you can’t go. You think he’ll just follow you? Lucius is stubborn. He won’t leave. He won’t abandon his pride, even for you."

"He will if I make him see reason," you pressed, your voice trembling with conviction you wanted to believe. "If I remind him who he is, what he stands for. He’ll listen to me."

Lucilla exhaled sharply, stepping between you and Acacius, her presence like a steady force in the eye of the storm. "And if he doesn’t? If he refuses, what then?”

You flinched at her words. The weight of this pressed down on you, but you refused to let it break you. "Then at least I’ll have tried," you whispered. "At least I won’t sit in hiding while the people I love fight for their lives."

Acacius turned away from you abruptly, running a hand through his hair, his breath ragged. "Damn it," he muttered under his breath before spinning back toward you. "Do you even hear yourself? Do you know what you’re asking me to do?" His voice cracked, raw and unguarded. "You’re asking me to send you straight into the lion’s den. To just…juts let you walk into danger while I stand back and watch."

"I’m asking you to trust me," you said, your voice fierce despite the tears burning your throat. "I have spent my whole life being protected, shielded from the ugliness of this world. But I am not some delicate thing to be tucked away. If we are to have any future at all, we must take risks."

Acacius closed his eyes, as if trying to drown out your words, to quiet the war inside him. Lucilla placed a hand on his arm, grounding him. "She is her father's daughter," she murmured, her gaze heavy with understanding. "You cannot change her mind when it is already set."

He let out a shaky breath, his hands curling into fists before he finally looked at you again. "If you go, you do not go alone."

Your breath hitched. "Acacius-"

"You do not go alone," he repeated, his voice leaving no room for argument. "I will not let you face this without protection."

Lucilla nodded. "I know someone who can get you into the cells unnoticed. But you must understand-this is your one chance. If something goes wrong, there will be no second attempt. No coming back for you."

Your heart pounded as the full weight of the decision settled in. There was no turning back now.

"Then I will not fail," you promised, meeting Acacius’s gaze.

But even as you said the words, you knew that fate was a cruel, unpredictable thing.

“I will wait for you at the end of the dungeon” He explained, “Once you free Lucius, both of you, especially you will come and going to go away. Then when tomorrow came, I’ll get everything settle for what’s coming.”

Lucilla’s expression was unreadable, but there was something in her eyes something like resignation. "We don't have time to argue anymore," she said finally. "If you're going to do this, you must go now."

Acacius stepped closer, his hands gripping your arms as if he could anchor you to him. His touch burned, searing into your skin, branding you with the weight of his worry. "Promise me," he murmured. "Promise me that no matter what happens, you won’t hesitate. The moment Lucius is free, you run."

You swallowed hard, nodding, though you weren’t sure if you could keep that promise.

Lucilla moved toward the entrance, glancing over her shoulder. "I will send word to the one who will take you inside. Wait for him by the servants' passage near the western wall. And keep your head down."

Acacius leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your lips. "Be careful," he whispered. "I need you to come back to me."

You lingered there for a moment, memorizing the feeling of his hands on you, the way his voice softened when he spoke to you, the way he looked at you as if you were something worth fighting for.

"Mia vita" he called out, stopping you on your tracks to kiss you softly, the pulled back slightly “Please don't let this to be our last kiss"

"We still have a life to live together" you smiled against his lips, peeking his lips once more "at peace this time"

"I will find you" he promised, peeking your lips once again, savoring every single second of this. "I'll be waiting for you at the end of the dungeon."

You nodded, feeling shivers down your spine. He kissed your lips again as if couldn’t let go because of the fear, tasting the sweet flavor of fruits on them, lingering to the feeling that in a few hours he would free Rome from the tyranny and escape with you to a happy ending, a happy life.

"Be careful, love" he whispered as you walked from his grasp.

Then, with one final look, you turned and disappeared into the shadows.

And as you did, Acacius stood still, watching you leave, his fists clenched at his sides.

He had never felt so powerless.

The night stretched long and cold as you moved through the villa’s outer corridors, keeping close to the stone walls. Every shadow felt like a threat waiting to cut you in half, every sound a warning. Your heart pounded in your chest, but you forced yourself forward. Your mother’s contact was waiting near the western wall as promised, a hooded figure who barely looked at you before motioning for you to follow.

"This way," he whispered, leading you through a narrow passage. "The guards are fewer tonight, but that won’t last long."

You nodded, pressing yourself deeper into the cloak wrapped around your shoulders. The passage led downward into the lower levels of the coliseum, where the scent of damp stone and burning torches thickened the air. With each step, the reality of what you were about to do settled heavier in your chest.

Finally, the man halted near a rusted iron gate, peering around the corner before motioning for you to stop. "Beyond here, you’re on your own. You already know where the cells, be fast my lady.”

You exhaled slowly, steadying yourself before slipping through the gate. The corridor was dimly lit, flickering torchlight casting shadows along the stone walls. You kept low, moving carefully. Every instinct screamed at you to hurry, but you couldn’t afford mistakes.

Then you saw him.

Lucius sat in the farthest cell, his head down, his hands bound in front of him. His tunic was dirtied and torn; his face shadowed with exhaustion. But he was still alive.

"Lucius," you whispered urgently, pressing yourself against the bars. His head snapped up, eyes widening at the sight of you.

"By the gods," he breathed. "What are you doing here?"

"Freeing you," you said, already fumbling with the lock. "We don’t have much time, Acacius has a plan, but we need to go now."

Lucius let out a short, breathless laugh. "Acacius? And here I thought you had come to your senses and abandoned him.”

You shot him a glare, your fingers working as quickly as possible. "Do you want to fight about this, or do you want to walk out of here alive?"

Before he could respond, footsteps echoed down the hall. Your breath caught.

The guards were coming.

You barely had time to think. With trembling fingers, you worked at the lock, gritting your teeth as the iron refused to give. Lucius shifted impatiently behind the bars, his gaze darting toward the approaching footsteps.

"Hurry," he muttered.

"I know," you hissed, forcing yourself to focus. The crude metal bit into your skin, but finally, with a sharp click, the lock gave way. You got the door open, and Lucius stepped out, shaking the stiffness from his limbs.

"We need to go," you whispered.

Together, you slipped into the shadows, pressing yourselves against the cold stone walls. The guards were close now, their voices carrying down the corridor. You gripped Lucius’s wrist, pulling him forward as you sprinted through the winding path of the dungeon.

Your breaths came fast and shallow, your heart hammering with every turn. The torches flickered wildly in the drafty halls, casting distorted shapes that sent chills up your spine.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you reached the end of the dungeon, the meeting place Acacius had promised.

But he wasn’t there.

You came to a sudden stop, chest heaving as your eyes darted around the empty space.

"Where is he?" Lucius whispered harshly.

You didn’t answer. He should be here.

He said he would be here. You thought.

A cold feeling crept up your spine. Something was wrong.

Your pulse thundered in your ears. Think. Think faster. Acacius wasn’t here. That meant something had gone wrong. That meant-

“We have to move,” you whispered, gripping Lucius’s arm.

He gave you a sharp look, but didn’t argue. You took the lead, slipping through the dimly lit corridor, your body tense, ears straining for any sound. The dungeon air was thick with dampness, every breath heavy in your chest.

Acacius had told you to wait. But waiting was a death sentence now.

He could be in trouble. He could be dead.

No. You forced the thought away. Acacius was strong. He was waiting for you somewhere else. He had to be.

Lucius kept pace beside you, his voice low and urgent. “Where are we going?”

“Out,” you said, scanning the hallway. “I know another way.”

A narrow servant’s passage was carved into the farthest wall, one you had used as a child to sneak out when the world inside these walls had felt too suffocating. You yanked open the hidden door, pushing Lucius through before slipping inside yourself. The stone closed behind you, sealing you both in darkness.

The passage was narrow, forcing you to move single file. Your fingers trailed the rough stone as you navigated through the twisting tunnel, the air cool and stale. You could hear Lucius’s uneven breathing behind you, but neither of you spoke.

You reached the end and pressed against the wooden panel that led to the outside. For a long moment, you hesitated.

If Acacius wasn’t here, it meant something had shifted in the plan. But you had no time to figure out what.

You had to keep moving.

Bracing yourself, you pushed the door open and stepped into the night.

The night air was a fleeting whisper of freedom before it was ripped away.

The moment you and Lucius stepped beyond the hidden passage, torches flared to life, illuminating the ring of imperial guards waiting for you. The glint of their drawn swords was the only warning you had before rough hands seized you.

Lucius struggled, his fury a silent storm beside you, but he was outnumbered. A soldier slammed the hilt of his sword into his stomach, and he collapsed to his knees, gasping for breath.

“Lucius!” you shouted, lunging toward him, but another set of hands wrenched you back.

A grizzled guard stepped forward; his expression smug beneath his bronze helmet. “Did you really think you could slip away unnoticed?” he sneered.

You twisted against their grip, but they held you firm. “Where is Acacius?” you demanded. “What have you done to him?”

The guard chuckled darkly. “Worry for yourself, little dove.” He leaned in, his breath rank against your cheek. “Emperor Geta will not be fond of you after this treason.”

Your stomach twisted. Geta. He knew.

The guards yanked you and Lucius apart, dragging him in the opposite direction. He thrashed violently, eyes burning with desperation as they pulled him away from you.

“Stay strong,” he shouted. “Don’t give them what they want!”

Then he was gone.

You fought harder, but it was useless. The last thing you saw before they forced you forward was the blood-red banners of the empire swaying in the cold night air.

The throne room was suffocating with tension, the air thick with the scent of oil and burning torches. Acacius and Lucilla stood before the imperial dais, their bodies rigid as Emperor Geta lounged with lazy arrogance in his gilded chair. Caracalla stood beside him, his fingers curling and uncurling as if barely restraining his temper.

The moment Acacius learned you had been captured, something inside him had snapped. His presence alone carried a storm, his jaw clenched, fists curled at his sides, the veins in his neck straining with suppressed fury.

“Where is she?” Acacius demanded, his voice like thunder cracking through the hall.

Geta smirked, swirling the wine in his goblet. “Who?” he mused, feigning innocence. “Oh, you mean your wife.” He sighed dramatically. “A shame, really. I expected more from you, Acacius. But in the end, even the great general is brought to his knees for a woman.”

Acacius took a menacing step forward, only for Lucilla to press a warning hand against his arm. “You do not want to do this,” she whispered, though even her voice carried the edge of a threat.

Caracalla’s lip curled; his rage barely restrained. “You made a mistake, Acacius. You should have fled with her when you had the chance.”

“I will get her back,” Acacius growled. His eyes snapped to Geta, cold and unrelenting. “Emperor Geta, torture me if you want, but don't dare to lay a finger on my wife.”

Geta’s expression darkened at that word.

His knuckles went white around the goblet before he set it down with deliberate slowness. “But I will,” he said, his voice dangerously smooth. He walked towards Acacius, stepping closer, his grin cruel. “Now, I’m going to see her.”

Acacius lunged, but the guards were already between them, forcing him back as Geta strode from the room. The moment the doors slammed shut behind him, Acacius let out a roar of frustration. He whirled, striking one of the marble pillars with his fist hard enough to crack the stone.

Acacius’s chest heaved with each ragged breath, but when he turned to face Lucilla next to him, his eyes were filled with something worse than fury.

Desperation.

His hands clenched into fists again. “I will kill him. I swear it.”

The cell was damp and smelled of rust and decay. You hit the ground hard as the guards shoved you inside, the impact jolting through your knees and elbows. The cold stone bit into your skin, but you barely felt it, your mind was reeling, heart hammering in your chest.

"You should have stayed where you belonged," one of the guards sneered from the other side of the iron bars. "Emperor Geta will not be fond of you after this treason."

You lifted your head, eyes burning with defiance. "I still have you to make him beg for mercy."

The guard scoffed but did not reply. He only smirked, slamming the barred door shut with a loud clang before disappearing down the corridor, his footsteps fading into the darkness.

You exhaled sharply, forcing yourself to sit upright. Every part of you ached, but pain was the least of your concerns.

You exhaled shakily, pressing a hand to your face as tears threatened to spill. But you wouldn’t cry.

Instead, you allowed yourself a moment to gather your strength. Tomorrow was coming, and with it, the arena and whatever fate awaited Acacius. Whatever happened, you wouldn’t let Geta break you.

Then, a sound.

Footsteps. Slow. Measured.

A chill ran down your spine.

You knew who it was before you even saw him.

The door creaked open, and there he stood.

Emperor Geta.

The first thing he did as he took glance of you was grabbing your face forcefully with his hand, forcing you to spare him a glance. He wouldn't even dream of seeing you like this, is disbelief, with your hair a mess, and bloody. You weren't made for a life like this, but now under these conditions, this was the closest he had come to have you.

"Escaping with that slave, my dear lady? You marrying Acacius felt less insulting than this." He said, looking dead into your shining orbits.

"Marrying you would an insult to myself. I would rather eat shit than be tied to you." You spatted.

Geta's smile widened as a cruel laugh escaped his lips as his studied your features. Your before soft skin seemed dirty by drops of blood and dirt. You were a delicate doll, but now smashed and crumbled.

Geta’s expression twisted, his smugness evaporating in an instant. His jaw clenched, and his eyes burned with rage. Before you could react, his hand lashed out, the sharp crack of the slap ringing through the chamber.

The force of the blow snapped your head to the side, and you stumbled, catching yourself against the floor. Your cheek stung, the pain radiating hot and angry, but it was nothing compared to the cold fury swelling in your chest.

Geta loomed over you, his breath heavy, his hand still trembling from the strike. “You will not speak to me that way,” he hissed, his voice low and dangerous. “You forget who holds your life in his hands. You forget who I am. I'm the emperor and you're just a prisoner granted privileges because of your mother and Acacius" his face got close to you, "but now you're a mere slave accused of treason."

You spit on his face. The anger and loathing consuming like a fire burning your body.

Geta took his hand to his face, cleaning your spit with disgust written on his face. You had ended with his patience and he couldn't bear it anymore.

Just a few hours ago you had been secured on Acacius big arms, surrounded by the faint scene of laurel and lavender that seemed to calmed you down.

Now the stink of dirt and humidity rusted your nostrils. You wanted to close your eyes and feel the lavender on your nose, Acacius lips on your temple. You wanted him to save you, you were pleading the gods.

"Please stop this...let me see him" you begged, your voice broken. "Don't hurt him."

Lifting your gaze to see if by chance there would be a tiny bit of sympathy dancing on his eyes, you face the coldest gaze you had ever seen.

"Acacius' life is on my will, your mother's...even that beloved gladiator of yours." He got closer once again, looking directly to your eyes, you felt his wine breath on your face, "Test my patience once again, my lady and I will snap my finger like this" he snapped his fingers in front of you, getting closer to your lips you can almost feel his on your and it felt repulsive "and all of them will be dead. All of them!"

You gritted in protest, the repulsion of his touch filling you with an instinctual fear that made your skin crawl. The air between you felt suffocating, and the words he spoke echoed in your mind like a distant nightmare, gnawing at the edges of your sanity.

You tried to pull away, but his grip tightened, forcing you to remain still as his lips lingered too close to yours. The stench of wine and bitterness clung to him, every part of him an invasion to your thoughts, to your soul.

"Don’t you dare," you hissed, your voice trembling but filled with defiance. You refused to let him have the satisfaction of breaking you.

“You have no idea what I could give you,” Geta began, his voice low and smooth, carrying the weight of his authority. “Power, wealth, freedom to rule by my side as my wife. Everything you’ve ever dreamed of could be yours if only you’d open your eyes and choose me.”

You hold your gaze, your heart pounding in your chest as his lips pressed forcefully against yours. The taste of wine and greed made your stomach churn, and every inch of your body screamed in protest. This was not love. This was a sick obsession, an attempt to break your will and twist your bones. You clenched your fists, refusing to let him see the fear creeping at the edges of your resolve.

"I would rather die than choose you," you spat, your voice full of venom.

“I don’t care what you want” he said, pulling away just to stand up, smiling cruelly down at you on the ground. "Chain her to the wall." He ordered the guards

Your despair filled the dirty dungeons "No, please. Don't" you squirmed under the men's hold "Let me go!"

The cold stone wall bit into your skin as the guards’ iron chains wrapped around your wrists, pulling you taut against the damp, dark dungeon. The echo of your cries was swallowed by the silence of the place, but inside, your fury burned with an intensity you had never known. You clenched your teeth, fighting the tears that threatened to fall, determined to stay strong.

"Goodnight, my princess," Geta’s mocking voice lingered in the air long after he was gone, a cruel reminder of his power over you.

Your screams followed geta's steps as he walked away from you. You were left there to drown in your own tears as you curse and whatever plan his Machiavellian mind has.

Your fingers tightened into fists, nails digging into your palms as you whispered a curse under your breath, a spell woven from the ancient words passed down through history. Soon the future of Rome would be defined and you were going to take charge of it.

Tags 💌: (if you want to be removed feel free to tell me. I'm super shy when it comes to tags. By the way I couldn't tag everyone)

@greenwitchfromthewoods @joeldjarin @picketniffler @sptbear @heartpatch @immyowndefender @nobodyssfool @behomewhenthestreetlightscomeon @idkwhylou @jasminedragoon @ro-nahime-things @hduuc56 @mamustreads @itsafullmoon @tuquoquebrute @ccmoonshine @fvispunk @here-briefly @elisha-chloe @geekandbooknerd @guelyury @dlwrish @legoemma @scrappyskin @orcasoul @kluvspedro @onlythehobi @stormseyer @spideybv28 @spacelatinos4life @hduuc56 @foledean @negrita2345 @capswife @missadangel @spencercmlover @leahwwinchester @areyoutheretoru @nosebeers @discowitchyy

#marcus acacias x reader #marcus acacius fanfiction #marcus acacius x f!reader #marcus acacius x you #marcus acacius x reader #general marcus acacius #marcus acacius fic #marcus acacius #gladiator 2 fic #gladiator 2 #gladiator 2 fanfiction #pedro pascal #marcus acacius smut #general acacius x you #general acacius

218 notes · View notes

fandoms-writings · 10 hours ago

Text

Shut Up

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader (fem intended)

Warnings: 18+ ONLY MDNI, oral (f receiving), fingering, smut, I wrote this on my phone so minimal layout and editing

A/N: hi hello I know I haven’t posted in forever I’m sorry, please take this as a peace offering 🥺

Bucky couldn't even remember what you were fighting about earlier. He knew it was stupid, childish even. You two bickered all the time, you always had ever since he met you. He liked to rile you up, see how angry and frustrated he could make you - the kind, polite, quiet one. Something about how you scrunched your brows, bared your teeth, and let the sweet girl facade fade. It made him feel alive.

But the second those words left your mouth, his mind had gone blank, and the argument ready on his tongue fizzled away.

"Maybe if I sit on your face, that'll shut you up."

You'd threatened him with bodily harm and spewed hate-filled words at him. But this kind of retaliation was a first. And, oh did he like it.

He more than liked it.

You'd followed him to his room earlier in the heat of your argument so there was no need for pause, or hesitation, or secrecy, before his lips landed on yours, silencing you. Your body slumped against his, all the tension and anger fizzling out into nothing as your hands gripped the front of his jacket. His feet guided you to the edge of his bed where he turned and sat, finally releasing you.

"Then do it." He'd countered, daring you to follow through with your threat for the first time. And when your eyes locked with his, your pupils blown wide and a hesitant look on your face, he smirked, "C'mon, you know you want to." And when you still didn't move, "unless you're all talk."

That'd done it. You hiked up the skirt of your sundress as you crawled on top of him, his smirk growing as you hovered over him, the damp spot on your panties on display for him. He instantly wrapped his flesh hand around your waist to pull the fabric to the side, using his metal one to guide you to his mouth.

He let out a low groan as soon as the taste of you hit his tongue. He never realized how badly he'd wanted you. He was still navigating being normal again, not being The Winter Soldier, that oftentimes the way his body reacted or his heart thudded against his chest went unnoticed, or left him in a stupor. But with you now grinding down on his tongue, it all clicked for him.

But he'd tuck that little secret away for now.

He could tell you were hovering, not letting him have the full weight of you and he pulled his mouth off you, chuckling at the pathetic whine that slipped past your lips as you looked down at him.

"Don't hover," He ordered, "I want all of you."

Your brows pinched and you only replied with, "And I want you to shut up," Before fully taking your new seat. The authority in your tone and the true weight of you on his mouth had his pants growing tight but he didn't want to take his hands off of you. Not as he reached up with his vibranium hand and gripped one of your breasts, massaging it as he pulled it over the fabric of your dress, lightly tugging at the nipple once it was free.

The moan that left your mouth at the coldness of his hand on your skin was pornographic with your head tipped back and your hands laying over his own, guiding them to how you liked to be touched, tightening his grip over your skin.

He decided then and there as you looked down at him, your jaw slack and the most beautiful sounds falling from your mouth, that he could do this forever. You were so beautiful like this, on the edge of release with him being the one to get you there.

He was never letting you go after this.

He slipped his hands out of yours, reaching his flesh one up to grip what he could reach of your neck, the other sliding under your ass to slip a finger in your soaked core. Your hands dove to tangle and tug at his hair as your moans pitched higher and louder, his name a chant on your tongue as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, tongue circling and lips closing around your clit while you practically fucked yourself on his fingers.

He wanted you to cum - needed it. So when his fingers curled and your moans turned to begging, he copied that same motion over and over and over until a gasp tore your breath from you.

As quickly as he could, he pulled his fingers from you, replacing them with his tongue just as you fell over the edge, all but screaming his name, your legs clamping around his head as he swallowed your release, groaning into your skin.

Your hands left his hair and wrapped around his arms that were holding you up, holding on like he was your life line. He traced a few lazy circles around you with his tongue as your body relaxed before lifting you and sliding you down to sit on his chest.

When you looked at him, your confidence started to slip away, a sheepish, “sorry,” falling on his ears. He sighed with what he knew was the dopiest smile he’d ever let you see as his hands reached up to cradle your cheeks.

“Babygirl,” he’d laughed, “you can shut me up like that any time you please.”

If you'd like to be notified when I post a new story, follow my library blog @remis-library and turn on notifications.

#bucky smut #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky drabble #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut #fandoms-writings

208 notes · View notes

olderwomenenthusiast · 2 days ago

Text

undercover aftermath (emily prentiss)

PAIRING: emily prentiss & fem reader DESCRIPTION: emily reminds you who you belong to after being undercover CAUTION: spit, swearing, fingering, oral, strap-on, power dynamics, slight mention of your undercover stint WORD COUNT: 2.7k AUTHOR'S NOTE: sorry for any mistakes, i wrote this at 3am x

The case had been brutal. Deep undercover, you had played your part perfectly, too perfectly, as far as Emily was concerned. You had spent weeks infiltrating a high-profile trafficking ring, posing as an informant willing to trade information for protection. The role required you to get close to dangerous men, to endure their scrutiny, their suspicion, and, ultimately, their violence.

It was part of the job, you reminded yourself each time a hand lingered too long on your waist, each time a leering gaze made your skin crawl. You had prepared for it, trained for it. But nothing could have truly prepared you for the moment one of the men decided to test your loyalty.

They had cornered you in a warehouse, questioning your motives, threatening to expose you. A punch to the ribs to make you talk, a knee to the stomach to remind you of your place. You played your role flawlessly, feigning just enough fear to convince them, keeping just enough strength to make it out alive. The team had extracted you before it escalated further, but Emily had seen enough. She had seen the blood on your lip, the bruise forming beneath your shirt, and the way you winced when you breathed. And she had been forced to do nothing, to stay in character, to keep her rage in check until the case was wrapped up.

Now that you were finally safe in your hotel room, she was done holding back.

The moment the door clicked shut behind you, Emily grabbed your face and kissed you hard. There was no hesitation, no preamble, just raw possession in the way her tongue parted your lips and claimed you. Her hands gripped your waist, pressing you into the wall, her thigh slipping between yours with deliberate pressure.

"You’re mine," she growled, voice thick with frustration and something darker, something desperate.

"Em --" Your voice barely made it out before she was nipping at your jaw, sucking a bruise just beneath your ear, her fingers already working at your shirt.

"Take this off," she demanded. You obeyed without hesitation, wincing slightly as the fabric brushed over your ribs. Emily’s eyes darkened, her fingertips ghosting over the deep bruise before she kissed the spot - soft at first, then harder, her teeth grazing over sensitive skin.

"They hurt you," she murmured, voice softer now, but no less intense. "I’m going to make you forget every second of it."

Then she was everywhere at once - lips, hands, body pressed to yours as she guided you toward the bed. You barely registered the moment your back hit the mattress before Emily was stripping you completely, her eyes locked onto you like you were the only thing that mattered.

She spread your legs wide, her gaze darkening as she took in the sight of your soaked pussy, glistening and aching for her touch. "Fuck," she breathed, dragging her fingers up your inner thigh, teasing just shy of where you needed her most. "So wet already. You want me to take care of you, don’t you?"

You whimpered, hips shifting in search of contact, but Emily only chuckled, pressing a single finger along your slit, sliding it up to circle your clit in agonizingly slow motions.

"Look at you," she murmured, voice thick with arousal. "So fucking needy."

She leaned down, lips pressing open-mouthed kisses along your stomach, her breath warm as she finally flicked her tongue over your clit. The sudden contact made you jolt, a sharp gasp escaping as she wrapped her lips around the sensitive bundle of nerves and sucked.

"Oh, fuck..." Your fingers tangled in her hair, your body arching as she licked you with broad, slow strokes, her tongue relentless, flicking and teasing, alternating between sucking and circling your swollen clit. She knew exactly how to unravel you, how to make you squirm and plead, her hands gripping your thighs, keeping you spread open for her.

She trailed her mouth up, hovering over your chest, her eyes locked onto yours. Then she gathered saliva in her mouth and spit onto your nipples, watching as it glistened over your sensitive skin. Her tongue followed immediately after, swirling the warm spit around each hardened peak, teasing, flicking, then sucking one deep into her mouth.

The sensation made you moan, your back arching as she switched to the other nipple, giving it the same attention; spitting, swirling, sucking, her teeth grazing just enough to send pleasure straight to your core.

When she slid two fingers inside your dripping cunt, you moaned, your walls clenching around the intrusion. She curled them just right, pressing against your sweet spot, thrusting slow and deep as her tongue continued its torment.

"You’re dripping for me, baby," Emily groaned, pulling back just enough to watch her fingers disappear into your pussy. She pushed them in deeper, twisting them slightly, making your back arch. "God, I love watching you take my fingers."

She fucked you slow, dragging it out, savoring the way you clenched around her, the way you writhed beneath her touch. When she added a third finger, stretching you open, your moans turned desperate, your body trembling.

"Cum for me," she ordered, her voice low, demanding. "I want to feel you soak my fingers."

Her words pushed you over the edge, pleasure slamming into you as your pussy clenched around her fingers, your orgasm tearing through you in waves. Emily didn’t stop, she fucked you through it, her thumb pressing firm circles against your clit, her mouth devouring every sound you made.

When you finally came down, chest heaving, body spent, Emily pulled her fingers from you, watching as your slick coated them. She brought them to your lips, pressing them inside your mouth. "Suck," she commanded.

You obeyed, tasting yourself as you wrapped your lips around her fingers, watching as her pupils blew wide with hunger. "Good girl," she praised, her voice dark, dripping with satisfaction.

She reached for the nightstand, retrieving the strap-on she had packed - one that you both knew she loved using on you. Adjusting the harness, she stroked the thick silicone, watching you as she spread your legs even wider.

"You want my cock?" she teased, pressing the tip against your entrance, barely pushing in.

"Yes," you breathed, rocking your hips toward her. "Please, Em."

That was all she needed. She thrust forward, stretching you inch by inch, filling you until she bottomed out, the base grinding against her clit. The pressure made her moan, her hands gripping your hips as she started to move.

She set a punishing pace; deep, relentless, each thrust driving the thick strap-on against your sweet spot with devastating precision. Your gasps turned into sharp cries, your nails raking down her back as she fucked you harder, the sound of skin on skin echoing in the room.

"Look at you," she murmured, watching your face twist in pleasure. "Taking my cock so well."

She reached down, rubbing your clit in tight, fast circles, her other hand pressing down on your stomach, feeling the way the strap filled you. "Feel that?" she whispered. "That’s me stretching you, owning you."

It was too much, the relentless thrusts, the way she played your body so perfectly. Your orgasm hit hard, your pussy clenching around the toy as pleasure tore through you. Emily groaned, grinding against you, her own release shuddering through her as the base of the strap rubbed against her clit.

Your body was still trembling from your last orgasm when Emily pulled out, but she wasn’t done with you. Not even close. She pressed a lingering kiss to your lips, tasting your pleasure, before trailing down your body with a smirk that sent shivers through you.

“You think I’m finished?” she murmured, her fingers tracing circles on your inner thigh. “Oh, baby, I’m just getting started.”

Before you could respond, she flipped you over effortlessly, pressing your stomach against the mattress as she gripped your ass and spread you open.

“You’re dripping all over the sheets,” she purred, her voice thick with amusement and arousal. “Such a messy little thing.”

Then, without warning, she leaned in and licked a slow, teasing stripe over your soaked pussy, flicking her tongue against your clit before moving lower. She moaned as she tasted you, her grip tightening on your hips. Her tongue was relentless, dipping inside you, sucking, devouring. When you whimpered and pushed back against her mouth, she chuckled against your skin.

“You want more?” she mused. “Then ride my face.”

She pulled you up onto your knees, guiding you over her mouth. You braced yourself against the headboard as Emily gripped your thighs and pulled you down onto her tongue. The first stroke made your breath hitch, the sensation of her mouth working you over making your legs shake.

Emily moaned beneath you, her tongue flicking, sucking, teasing as she ate you like she was starving. She gripped your ass, holding you in place as she devoured you, her moans vibrating against your sensitive flesh.

You rocked against her face, desperate and needy, grinding down as she licked into you, her nose nudging your clit just right. The pleasure was overwhelming, sharp and electric.

“Fuck, Emily, babyy”

She didn’t stop, didn’t let up, her tongue pushing you closer and closer until --

Your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, making you cry out, your body convulsing as pleasure burned through you.

But Emily wasn’t done.

Still reeling from your high, you barely had time to catch your breath before Emily flipped you onto your back again, her predatory gaze locked onto yours. She reached for the strap-on, adjusting the harness, her fingers wrapping around the thick length as she smirked down at you.

“Head over the edge,” she ordered, her voice dark with intent.

You obeyed, your pulse quickening as you positioned yourself as she wanted. Your head hung over the side of the bed, your mouth already parting in anticipation as Emily knelt over you, lining the silicone cock up with your lips.

“You’re going to take it, aren’t you?” she purred, rubbing the tip over your lips. “Gonna be my good little slut and swallow it all?”

You nodded eagerly, opening wide as she slid the tip past your lips. She started slow, letting you adjust, but soon, her patience ran thin. She gripped your jaw and thrust deeper, pushing past the back of your throat as a muffled moan escaped you.

“Fuck, that’s it,” she groaned, her hips rolling as she used your mouth.

The weight of her against your tongue, the way she held your head in place, was intoxicating. Your throat tightened around the strap as she fucked into your mouth, her moans growing louder as the harness rubbed against her clit.

And then...

Smack.

A sharp slap landed on your pussy, making you jolt, your muffled gasp vibrating around the strap.

Emily chuckled darkly. “Sensitive, aren’t you?”

She did it again, a sting of pleasure-pain that made heat pool between your thighs. Then her fingers were there, rubbing your clit in tight, punishing circles as she kept thrusting into your mouth.

“You love this, don’t you?” she growled, her movements growing more frantic. “Getting fucked like this, used like this?”

You moaned around her, your entire body burning with need. She pressed down harder on your clit, the pressure sending you spiraling toward another orgasm. The combination of being filled, overstimulated, and owned had you shuddering as you came hard, your body shaking beneath her.

Emily pulled out of your mouth, panting, her pupils blown wide as she took in the sight of you - lips swollen, eyes dazed and slightly teary, body spent and trembling.

She leaned down, capturing your lips in a messy, hungry kiss.

“You’re not done yet,” she murmured against your mouth. “I still have one more round for you.”

You pushed her onto her back, straddling her waist as you ran your hands down her toned stomach, feeling the way she tensed beneath your touch. Her pupils were still blown wide with lust, but there was a flicker of surprise as she looked up at you.

“Oh?” she smirked, lips swollen from all the ways she’d claimed you. “You think you’re in charge now, Princess?”

Instead of answering, you slid down her body, trailing kisses down her stomach, your tongue flicking over the dips and curves of her muscles. Emily inhaled sharply when you reached her inner thighs, spreading her legs wider as you settled between them.

The strap-on had long been ditched.

She was dripping, her arousal glistening against her flushed skin. You licked your lips, teasing her with slow, deliberate kisses along the inside of her thighs, purposely avoiding where she needed you most.

“Don’t tease,” she warned, her voice low and dangerous.

You smirked. “What happened to patience?”

Emily growled in frustration, but before she could grab your hair and shove you into her, you finally gave her what she wanted. You licked a slow, teasing stripe up her slit, making her breath hitch. Then, with no warning, you shoved your tongue deep inside her, curling it as she gasped and arched off the bed.

“Fuck..”

You gripped her thighs, holding her open as you fucked her with your tongue, moving in deep, slow strokes before flicking your tongue against that sensitive spot inside her. She clenched around you, her hands tangling in your hair as she rocked against your face, chasing her pleasure.

“You—ah—” Emily’s voice broke, her dominance crumbling as you pushed her higher. “Fucking hell, baby.”

You sucked her clit into your mouth, swirling your tongue over the swollen bundle of nerves before sliding two fingers inside her, curling them just right.

Emily gasped, her entire body tensing. “Don’t stop,” she panted, her grip tightening. “Don’t fucking stop...”

You didn’t. You fucked her with your fingers, your tongue never leaving her clit, sucking and flicking until her thighs trembled around your head. When you added a third finger, stretching her, her moans turned desperate.

“God—fuck—” Emily’s body arched, her head thrown back against the pillows as pleasure slammed into her. Her thighs squeezed around your head as she came hard, her body shuddering, her nails digging into your scalp as she rode the waves of her orgasm.

You kept your mouth on her, licking her through it, drinking in every drop of her pleasure until she was trembling beneath you, her breathing uneven, her muscles twitching from the overstimulation.

Finally, when she whimpered from the sensitivity, you pulled back, licking your lips as you moved up to kiss her. Emily grabbed your face, dragging you into a slow, deep kiss, tasting herself on your tongue as she let out a soft, satisfied hum.

Emily’s dominance had melted into something softer as she pulled you into her arms, rolling you onto your side. She kissed your forehead, then your temple, her hands stroking up and down your back in slow, soothing motions.

“You did so good for me, baby,” she murmured, her lips brushing against your skin. “So fucking perfect.”

You nuzzled into her, your body warm and relaxed in her embrace. She reached for a nearby towel, gently wiping away the slick between your thighs, making sure you were comfortable before pulling the blankets over both of you.

Her arms wrapped around you tightly, one hand cradling the back of your head as she pressed another kiss to your hair. “Are you okay?” she whispered, her voice laced with genuine care.

You sighed contentedly. “More than okay.”

Emily chuckled softly, her fingers tracing slow circles on your hip. “Good. Because you’re mine,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to your lips, slow and deep. “And I take care of what’s mine.”

Your heart swelled at her words, at the way she held you so securely, grounding you in her warmth.

“I love you,” you murmured against her lips.

Emily smiled, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I love you more, Princess.”

With that, she pulled you impossibly closer, her arms locking around you as the steady rhythm of her heartbeat lulled you into peaceful exhaustion.

Safe. Loved. Completely hers.

And that was all you ever needed.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x you #shows #tv series #emily prentiss #tv shows #emily prentiss x female reader #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss smut #emily prentiss fanfiction #ssa emily prentiss #paget brewster #wlw post #wlw #sapphic #lesbian #criminal minds smut #criminal minds x reader

177 notes · View notes

lunaswicked · 3 days ago

Text

Sweet Spot

A/N: Sorry this one took so long, college has been kicking my black ass, but im back with a juicy Roman fic!

Paring: Roman Reigns x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: A bold ultimatum turns into an irresistible claim when you demand your place in Roman Reigns' Bloodline. What starts as a power struggle quickly turns into something far more intense as Roman asserts his dominance.

Tags: Oral, (female receiving), language, p in v, smut village, claiming, 18+, USE YOUR IMAGINATION BABE!!!

“The Tribal Chief will be back soon after his interview, Y/N. You really shouldn’t be in here—”

Paul Heyman’s voice carried that usual mix of authority and nervousness, like he was trying to keep the peace but also lowkey freaking out. Classic Wiseman behavior. But before he could finish, you hit him with a cold, uninterested stare and cut him off.

“I don’t care… Paul.” You dragged his name out like it tasted bitter on your tongue. Your arms crossed over your chest, your body language screaming defiance as you dropped into one of Roman’s ridiculously expensive leather chairs, making yourself comfortable. “I’m staying right here until I talk to Roman about the Bloodline.”

Paul’s mouth opened, then shut like a fish out of water. He clearly wasn’t used to people shutting him down, especially not when it came to anything involving Roman. He adjusted his tie, the slight fidget a dead giveaway that he was scrambling for a way to handle you without setting off a nuclear-level argument.

"Y/N," he started again, voice softer now, like he was trying to reason with a child throwing a tantrum. "I understand your frustration, but decisions like these take time. The Tribal Chief has a lot to consider—”

You scoffed, leaning back in the chair like you owned the damn place. “Paul, don’t give me that ‘decisions take time’ speech. Roman’s been stringing me along for months. Either I’m in, or I’m out. No more waiting around while he plays mind games.”

Paul’s lips pressed into a thin line. You could tell he wanted to say something slick, something wise and calculated, but you were past the point of caring. Your patience had been worn down to nothing. You weren’t just some random outsider begging for a spot—you had proven yourself. You had bled for this. And yet, Roman still hadn’t made the call.

Paul sighed dramatically, rubbing his temples like you were personally giving him a migraine. “This is not how things work. You don’t just demand to see Roman. You wait for him to summon you.”

You rolled your eyes. “Summon me? Paul, be fucking for real right now. I’m not some peasant waiting on a royal decree. If Roman wants loyalty, he needs to show me I’m not wasting my damn time.”

Paul exhaled sharply, clearly at a loss. He checked the time on his phone like that was gonna magically make Roman appear faster. “If you just wait—”

“No,” you cut in. “I’m done waiting.”

Your eyes flickered to the clock on the wall. Any minute now, Roman would be walking through that door. And when he did, you were gonna make damn sure he finally gave you an answer.

You adjusted the black dress draped over your body, subtly pulling at the slit running up your thigh. The fabric clung to your curves just right—not that you planned it for Roman, but if he noticed, well… that was his problem.

Paul gave you one last lingering look, one that screamed you’re playing a dangerous game, before he sighed and exited Roman’s private room. The door shut with a soft click, leaving you alone in the space that practically reeked of dominance and control.

Minutes passed as you scrolled mindlessly through your phone, pretending like your heart wasn’t racing. Like you weren’t anticipating the moment he walked through that door. And then—

Click. Thud.

Your head snapped up at the sound, and there he was.

Roman Reigns.

Dressed in a sleek black suit, crisp white shirt, and a tie that somehow made him look even more powerful. His presence alone sucked the air from the room, commanding attention without a single word. And damn, did he look good. So good that heat crawled up your neck before you could stop it. For a split second, you almost forgot why you were here in the first place. Almost.

His sharp eyes locked onto yours, dark and unreadable, before one eyebrow quirked up.

“Y/N, sweetheart,” his voice was smooth, teasing, laced with amusement. “Who let you in here?”

The way he said sweetheart sent a shiver down your spine, but you kept your composure, tilting your chin up as he stepped closer. He shrugged off his suit jacket and placed it on the chair beside you, the fabric brushing against your arm like a silent reminder of his presence.

You swallowed, clearing your throat before answering. “I—I let myself in.”

He hummed at that, walking over to the small table in the corner, pouring himself a cup of coffee like he had all the time in the world. The casual dominance, the way he moved, the sheer confidence—infuriating.

“And where’s Paul?” he asked, lifting the cup to his lips.

“He left.”

That made him pause. His head turned slightly, eyebrow raising again.

“He left?” Roman repeated, almost like he didn’t believe you. Paul never left before he was back. Ever.

You crossed your arms, refusing to shrink under his gaze.

“So, let me get this straight.” He took a slow sip of his coffee, eyes still locked on you. “You invite yourself in… and then run off my Wiseman?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, pulse flickering under his intense stare.

“I wouldn’t say run off,” you muttered, shifting slightly.

Roman smirked, setting his coffee down with a soft clink. He took a step closer, the air between you growing heavier with every movement.

“Mm. That so?” His voice was low, edged with something dangerously amused.

You weren’t sure if you wanted to punch him or let that voice do dangerous things to you. Maybe both.

You straightened your back, squaring your shoulders as you met his gaze head-on. No more games. No more waiting.

“I’m here to tell you that I’m not waiting anymore, Roman,” you said, voice firm despite the way his presence made your pulse spike. “It’s either I’m part of your Bloodline, or I’m not. I mean, it’s been months, and I—”

You didn’t even get to finish.

Roman lifted a hand, cutting you off without a word. The simple gesture was enough to shut you down, not because you wanted to stop talking, but because there was something about the way he did it—calm, effortless, like he already had control of the entire situation. Like you were only here because he allowed it.

Then, before you could react, he moved.

Two long strides, and he was right in front of you, towering over you, his scent wrapping around your senses like a noose. Clean, masculine, laced with expensive cologne and something undeniably him.

His eyes flickered down to yours, dark and unreadable.

“Up. Now.”

A command. Not a request.

Your body reacted before your brain could catch up, pushing up from the chair without hesitation.

You stood, arms crossing over your chest as you forced yourself to hold his gaze. Even in heels, he made you feel small, like he could swallow you whole if he wanted to. The heat rolling off him, the authority dripping from every inch of his stance—it was infuriating.

And yet, you still obeyed.

Roman moved around you with a slow, calculated pace, like a predator circling its prey. Every step was deliberate, heavy with unspoken authority. You felt his presence even when you couldn't see him, the energy in the room shifting with every move he made.

Then, he stopped behind you.

The heat of his body ghosted over your back, close enough that you could feel him but not close enough to touch. His fingers landed on your shoulder, featherlight but firm, sending a shiver down your spine.

“It’s risky,” he murmured, his voice low and rich, the kind that made the air in your lungs thin. “And you’re too sweet.”

You clenched your jaw, shaking your head immediately. “I’m not sweet,” you shot back, voice sharper than you intended.

Behind you, Roman chuckled, the sound deep and knowing, like he was in on a joke you weren’t privy to.

“Sweet,” he mused, his fingers trailing lightly over your shoulder before pulling away. “But not fragile.”

You swallowed hard, refusing to let him see how much he was getting to you.

“I can handle it,” you said, turning your head slightly but not fully facing him.

Roman didn’t respond right away. Instead, he let the silence stretch, let the weight of his presence press into you, let the moment settle in a way that made your pulse hammer against your ribs.

Then, he leaned in just a fraction, voice nothing but a whisper against your ear.

“Are you sure about that, sweetheart?”

You inhaled sharply, the warmth of his breath still lingering against your skin. Roman didn’t wait for a response. Instead, he stepped away, walking toward the locker in the corner of the room, leaving you standing there, your body still buzzing from his proximity.

You turned slightly, watching as he opened the locker with ease, rummaging through it before pulling out a black T-shirt. Bold red letters stretched across the fabric.

Bloodline.

Your breath hitched.

Roman turned back to you, holding the shirt in one hand as he strode forward. The look in his eyes was unreadable—calm, unreadable, but undeniably intense.

“This is yours,” he said simply, stopping just inches from you. His voice was smooth, but there was something deeper laced within it. Something that made your stomach twist.

He held the shirt out, his fingers brushing against yours as you reached for it.

“Was gonna give it to you next week,” he continued, eyes flickering over you like he was assessing you all over again. “But you’re so damn bold… so here.”

Your fingers curled around the fabric, your heart pounding in your chest.

You stared down at the shirt in your hands, the bold red Bloodline lettering staring right back at you like it was daring you to make a choice. The room felt heavier now, charged with something unspoken, something dangerous.

Roman took a step back, arms folding across his broad chest as he watched you. He licked his lips, the slow drag of his tongue over them making your stomach tighten.

“How about you put it on right now?” he said, voice smooth, low, but laced with authority. Like he wasn’t really asking.

Your eyes flicked up to meet his, and the intensity in them made your breath hitch. He was testing you. Waiting.

You exhaled slowly, then—without breaking eye contact—you reached for the hem of your dress and pulled it over your head in one swift motion, leaving you in nothing but your black lace bra and matching panties. The air in the room shifted instantly.

Roman’s jaw clenched. His eyes darkened, flickering over your body with a heat that sent shivers down your spine.

You smirked slightly, then took your time slipping the Bloodline shirt over your head, letting it fall just below your thighs. The fabric was soft, the scent of him still lingering on it.

Roman exhaled sharply through his nose, his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek.

“Damn,” he muttered under his breath before stepping closer, his fingers grazing the hem of the shirt as he looked down at you. “Fits you good, sweetheart.”

You tilted your chin up, your own smirk growing. “I told you I belong here.”

Roman chuckled, low and deep. “Guess we’ll see about that.”

Your back hit the wall before you even realized he was moving. Roman was on you in an instant, his sheer presence crowding your space, making the air between you crackle with tension.

His eyes locked onto yours, dark and unwavering, his expression unreadable—but his intent? Crystal clear.

“Rules,” he murmured, unbuttoning the top of his shirt, his fingers slow, deliberate.

Your breath hitched, chest rising and falling faster as you swallowed hard. “Rules?” you echoed, barely recognizing your own voice.

Roman’s jaw clenched, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips before he leaned in, his breath ghosting over your face.

“You’re mine,” he said, his voice low, rough, possessive. “Mine. Not Jey’s. Not Jimmy’s. Not Solo’s. Mine.”

The way he said it, like it was law—like it was already written in stone—made your stomach tighten. Your pulse hammered against your ribs as his hand lifted, fingers grazing the hem of the Bloodline shirt now hanging loosely on your frame.

“You understand that, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice thick with something dangerous, something that sent a shiver down your spine.

You licked your lips, your throat suddenly dry. But you didn’t back down. You wouldn’t.

“I understand,” you whispered, your voice softer than you intended.

Roman smirked, but it wasn’t playful. It was dark. Satisfied. Like he’d just won.

He leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear, his fingers tracing the edge of your panties. “Here’s what’s gonna happen, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice thick with promise. “I’m gonna pull these down, taste you, then I’m gonna fuck you—hit that sweet spot over and over, just to remind you of exactly what you’ve gotten yourself into.” His words were low, dangerous, and laced with an undeniable intensity.

The heat surged through you as he slowly slid your panties down, his touch deliberate and teasing. You gasped, breath hitching, "Roman—" you whimpered, unable to hide the desire creeping into your voice. His gaze never left yours, intense and unwavering, as he slid his middle finger between your folds, making your pulse race even faster.

He set a slow, teasing rhythm, his fingers moving in a steady pace, the sound of your wetness filling the room, making the atmosphere thick with tension. "Oh god—" you moaned, your eyes fluttering shut as the pleasure coursed through you. Roman’s jaw tightened, his grip firm as he continued, his pace unrelenting, each movement deliberate, driving you closer to the edge.

"This what you wanted, sweetheart?" he groans in your ear, his pace quickening, pushing you further into a haze of pleasure. You struggle to catch your breath, "Mhm... yes..." you whimper, your body betraying your words.

Without warning, he pulls his fingers out, his grip shifting as he hooks his arms around your thighs, effortlessly lifting you up against the wall. He raises you so high that your pussy aligns directly with his face, and the shift leaves you breathless, heart pounding.

Roman’s breath was warm as he hovered just inches from where you needed him most, his lips so close that every exhale sent a new wave of desperation coursing through you. Then, without warning, he blew a slow, teasing stream of air against your wetness, the sensation making you jolt in his grip.

"You’re dripping, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction, with control, with possession. His eyes flicked up to yours, dark and heavy with intent, waiting—watching—as your body reacted to his every move.

The heat between your thighs throbbed, and your fingers instinctively tangled in his hair, desperate for more. But Roman? He took his time, his hold firm, ensuring you had nowhere to run from the way he was about to ruin you.

That was the moment you lost all control—the second his tongue darted out, licking a slow, deliberate stripe against your slick heat without warning. A choked gasp escaped your lips, your head falling back against the wall as a surge of pleasure shot through you like wildfire.

“F-fuck—” you stuttered, your voice barely above a breath, but he didn’t give you a chance to gather yourself. His grip tightened on your ass, his fingers digging in possessively as he held you in place, completely at his mercy.

Then, he latched onto that sensitive bead, sucking with just the right amount of pressure, making your entire body jerk in response. A strangled moan tore from your throat, your thighs trembling around his head as you instinctively tried to press closer, needing more—needing everything.

He groaned against you, the vibration sending another pulse of pleasure straight through your core. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he murmured between strokes of his tongue. “Let me hear you.”

Your fingers curled in his hair, tugging helplessly as your legs threatened to give out—not that he’d let you fall. He had you trapped, exactly where he wanted you, and he wasn’t stopping until you were completely undone.

His dark eyes locked onto yours, filled with hunger and unrelenting dominance. The intensity in his gaze made your breath hitch, anticipation coiling in your stomach like a tightly wound spring.

Without breaking eye contact, he shifted his hold, dropping his left hand, leaving you suspended with only one strong arm wrapped around your waist. The sheer power he possessed sent a shiver down your spine, reminding you just how effortlessly he controlled you.

With his free hand, he worked the button of his slacks, then the zipper, his movements slow—calculated. The sound of fabric rustling filled the room as his slacks slid down his legs, pooling at his ankles, followed by the drop of his boxers. Your mouth went dry at the sight of him, thick and hard, standing tall beneath you.

Roman smirked at your reaction, his grip tightening. “See something you like, sweetheart?” he rasped, amusement laced in his deep voice.

You swallowed hard, unable to form words, but the need pooling between your thighs said enough.

He didn’t give you time to dwell on it. Instead, he adjusted his stance, his large hands gripping your thighs as he guided you down, letting gravity and desire take over. Your back slid down the wall, your body trembling from the overwhelming sensation of his warmth pressing against you.

A sharp gasp tore from your lips the moment you felt him stretching you, inch by inch, your walls molding around his thick length. Roman groaned, his head falling forward as he buried himself deep inside you, his grip bruising as he held you still.

“Fuck—” he growled through gritted teeth, his breath ragged. “You feel even better than I thought.”

Your nails dug into his shoulders as pleasure and pain blended into something euphoric, leaving you breathless. “please—ooHH MY GOddd” you whimpered, voice breaking in agony.

He lifted his head, his nose grazing yours, his lips ghosting over your parted ones. “What, baby?” he taunted, rolling his hips just enough to make you whine. “This what you wanted?”

You barely managed a nod, your body trembling in his grasp.

He smirked, dark and wicked, his hands tightening around your thighs as he pressed you harder against the wall. “Good,” he murmured, voice dripping with authority. “’Cause I ain’t lettin’ you go now.”

His dark hair slipped free from the messy bun, cascading over his broad shoulders as sweat glistened on his golden skin, accentuating every defined muscle and intricate tattoo under the dim lighting. His pace was relentless now, each deep thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure through your trembling body, pressing you harder against the wall.

The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with your breathless moans and his low, guttural grunts. His grip on your thighs was firm, possessive, holding you in place as he drove into you with a punishing rhythm.

Roman’s head tilted back slightly, his jaw clenched, his breath heavy. “You wanted this, didn’t you?” His voice was deep, laced with raw dominance. His piercing eyes found yours again, dark and full of hunger. “Wanted to be part of my Bloodline so bad…” He punctuated his words with a sharp thrust, making you cry out.

You could barely think, let alone respond, but that didn’t stop him.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he growled, “Then you’re mine now, sweetheart.” His teeth grazed your earlobe before he sucked it between his lips, sending a shiver down your spine.

Your nails raked down his back, desperate for something to hold onto. “R-Roman—” you gasped, your voice breaking from the intensity.

He chuckled, dark and amused, before pulling back just enough to meet your dazed, pleasure-drunk gaze. “From now on, every Friday night,” he murmured, rolling his hips slow and deep, making you whimper, “I’m gonna fuck you into my Bloodline.”

A sharp cry left your lips as he picked up his pace again, pounding into you harder, making good on his promise.

With one last deep, punishing thrust, Roman buried himself to the hilt, his grip on your thighs tightening as a guttural groan ripped from his throat. Your body tensed, the overwhelming pleasure crashing over you in powerful, shuddering waves.

“Oh my—Roman!” you gasped, your head falling back against the wall, eyes squeezed shut as the pleasure consumed you. Your walls clenched around him, milking every last drop of his release as his breath came out in ragged pants against your ear.

“Fuck—” he growled, his forehead pressing against yours as he rode out both of your highs, his body trembling slightly from the force of it. His hands slowly loosened their bruising grip on your thighs, fingers grazing over your heated skin as he took deep, steadying breaths.

Your chest heaved against his, bodies still tangled together as the aftermath of your passion settled in the air. The only sounds in the room were the mingling of your unsteady breaths, the cooling sweat on your skin making you shiver against him.

Roman smirked, his lips barely ghosting over yours. “You good, sweetheart?” His voice was thick with satisfaction, but there was something else there too—something possessive.

You swallowed, still dazed, nodding weakly. “Yeah…” you breathed out, your body still tingling from the intensity of it all.

He chuckled lowly, his nose brushing against yours as he finally—slowly—slid out of you, making you whimper at the sudden emptiness. He kept a firm hold on your waist, ensuring you didn’t collapse the second your feet touched the ground.

Your legs felt weak, unsteady, and Roman smirked knowingly. “That was cute,” he murmured, amusement lacing his voice as he held you up.

You rolled your eyes, even as a small smile pulled at your lips. “Shut up,” you muttered breathlessly, swaying slightly as you leaned into his solid chest for balance.

Roman reached for his discarded suit jacket and draped it over your shoulders, his touch surprisingly gentle as he smoothed the fabric down your arms. His fingers lingered at your waist before he pulled back slightly, tilting your chin up with a single finger.

“You’re mine now,” he said, voice firm, leaving no room for argument. His dark eyes bore into yours, possessive and intense. “No backing out.”

You met his gaze, feeling the weight of his words settle deep in your chest. There was no denying it—you had just crossed a line that couldn’t be undone.

A slow, knowing smirk spread across your lips. “Guess I’m in the Bloodline now, huh?”

Roman chuckled, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip before leaning in, his lips hovering over yours.

“Damn right, sweetheart.”

#smut #fanfic #roman reigns #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns smut #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns fic #tribal chief #wwe smut #wwe fanfiction

215 notes · View notes

writingonleaves · 3 days ago

Text

to not know who i am, but still know that i'm good long as you're here with me - jack hughes

pairing: jack hughes x original female character

warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, nothing much else i can think of!

inspired by + title: i like me better by lauv

word count: 6.4k

author's note: hello everyone!! i feel like i've been in such a rut lately but i'm glad i managed to write this one out! this is for the lovely @wyattjohnston for her winter fic exchange 2k25. demi, thank you as always for your hard work in putting this together and i hope you enjoy. sorry that it's a few days late! to everyone, please let me know what you think!!

*****

When Maia Flaherty left her usual lunchtime coffee run with a number from one very Jack Hughes, she didn’t really quite know what to think.

“No pressure,” he had said with an easy smile. “I just think you’re pretty and the glare you gave that couple that was making out at the table next to you sold it for me.”

As she stares out on her train ride home, she’s deep in thought. This might be just a one date thing and then they find out they have nothing in common and they move on. But she knows herself. She doesn’t fall fast, but when she falls, she falls hard. What if she ends up falling harder than him, setting herself up for heartbreak. But she knows that’s also unfair to him, especially because she doesn’t know him. She appreciates his boldness in asking her out, but she doesn’t understand how he can be so confident and sure that he wants to go on a date with her. To be fair, maybe he’s only looking for something casual, to which she has even less of an idea of how to handle it, because she has never done casual and doesn’t think she could do it.

As she’s walking the streets back to her place in West Village, she thinks about how to approach this. Knowing her, she’s too curious to not text him and she probably will think on it over the weekend. But, should she protect herself and go into this as just meeting a friend or go into this romantically? She admits that he is cute and she was the slightest bit charmed by him, but she knows that she knows nothing else about him. She takes the time to look up some of his highlights of his career (he had dropped his Instagram handle to her “just so you know I’m a real person”) and she knows that he’s good. Almost annoyingly good. As a University of Minnesota alum, she’s familiar enough with hockey as a whole. She stalks his Instagram and doesn’t find anything much besides posts with family, friends and teammates. Pretty average. But she’s still weary.

Monday morning rolls around, and on her train to work, she takes a deep breath, clicking on his contact and copy and pasting what she had written last night.

hi!!! it’s maia from the cafe. if the offer still stands, i’d love to go out on that date

Not even a minute later, and she gets a response.

what a wonderful text to get on a Monday morning

the offer absolutely still stands. what’s your schedule looking like this week?

not around during regular people work hours so monday-friday 9-5 won’t work

my weekend is pretty empty atm but idk if that works for you? i’m assuming you have games this week

no games this weekend, for once. all weeknight games.

lucky timing

lucky indeed. you around Saturday for lunch?

works for me!

you’re in jersey right? i can come out to you if that’s easier

are you kidding me?

i’m not gonna make you come out to me, especially because I’m the one who asked you out

where are you in the city? I’ll come to you

She smiles to herself.

I’m in west village, but i can meet you anywhere

i’ll do some research after practice and get back to you?

sure

i also can suggest some places as well!!

appreciate it. i got it though. i’m the one who asked so I feel like it’d be unfair to ask you to plan

Huh, she thinks, being surprised again. She doesn’t have much to compare to, but she can’t remember a single date she’s been on where she hasn’t been the one planning.

okay lmk if you need my help! no rush we have a whole week

(Jack has a break in a morning practice and he’s just staring at his phone with the biggest smile on his face. His teammates are all making fun of him, but he pays them no mind. It’s not new for them to poke fun at him for texting girls, but he knows, he just knows that this one is different.

He also kinda likes the idea of “we.”)

kinda wish we didn’t

oh?

saturday is so far away

you’ll survive

She gets into the office just then and her phone is forgotten as she’s thrown into spreadsheets and meetings. It isn’t until 4 p.m. where she has the mental energy and time to look at his responses. The last text he had sent was two hours ago.

i found a place. well, a couple

i asked some of my friends who know the city better than I do

*screenshot of list in Notes app*

i tried to find places in different parts of Manhattan, mostly in West Village. i don’t know where exactly in that area you are and how easy or hard it is for you to get wherever

sorry, just realized I’m spamming you and you’re probably working

I’m so sorry i left you hanging work was literally insane until now

honestly all of these places sound wonderful

i’ve been to a couple of them before so tell your friends they have good taste

any one in particular you like?

you choose

since you’re planning it after all

lol

i really don’t want you having to travel that far

i literally live in nyc so if I want to see any of my friends who don’t live by me I have to travel far

and you’re literally coming from jersey

i’ll be fine with any choice you make

seriously

He chooses one of her favorite Greek food joints about 10 blocks from where she is and she tries to put it away in her mind. She still has this whole week to go. She’s known for years that she gets overwhelmed and stressed if she thinks ahead occasionally, and this is definitely one of those times.

(There’s a game on Wednesday night, and her best friend and roommate Carrie urges her to put it on TV in the background while they’re eating dinner. Carrie knows next to nothing about hockey, so Maia tries to explain it to her. But most of the time, she’s quiet and her eyes are zeroed in on 86. Or trying to, because everyone skates so fucking fast. He scores a goal and assists another, and she knows that that’s literally his job, but she can’t help but feel something watching him skate around so confidently.

She’s always respected the skill it takes to play hockey. Skating is hard. But the hockey attitude wasn’t always something that she loved. She understands that she’s projecting a lot of unwarranted judgement. But she doesn't think it’s all based on lies.

As the minutes wind down in the game, she zones out. She really doesn’t understand how or why this literal superstar of the sport just approached her and after knowing literally nothing about her, asked her out. This shit doesn’t happen to her. She also knows the usual crowd that hockey players go for. She’s not blonde. She’s not a model. She’s not anything like that.

What does he want from her?)

*****

She wakes up Saturday morning a bit groggy, thanks to the glasses of wine her and Carrie had the night before. She goes through her morning routine, but decides to forgo the coffee and make a smoothie instead. She usually likes to sip on her coffee for hours rather than down it all in one go. And she knows if she downs it, she’ll start shaking.

She doesn’t need to be shaking today.

Carrie stumbles out when Maia just leaves the bathroom and offers to make a smoothie for her. With a yawn, Carrie nods as she slides past her to go into the bathroom.

It’s 9:48 a.m. They’re meeting right at noon, so she has a bit of time. Her phone buzzes right after she finishes cleaning the blender.

good morning! see you soon

She just sends back a couple of emojis, before scrolling around on her social media accounts, sipping on her smoothie. It’s just the waiting now that’s making her more nervous.

She already knows what she’s gonna wear. An olive green sweater she bought recently that she’s been loving, black leggings, brown booties and earrings that she got years ago when she studied abroad. She’s leaving her hair down and putting some light makeup on. Nothing crazy. This is literally lunch. And she’s not gonna overthink for a boy.

Carrie proves to be a good distraction, simultaneously hyping her up, assuring her and talking about other things to keep her head level. She walks to the subway station and goes on the train, airpods in. This is all routine. The way there is no stranger to her, often meeting up with her brother for dinner around the area.

She checks the time. On time.

She approaches the restaurant’s front at 11:57 and decides to walk in and grab a table. She stops in her tracks when she sees that he’s already there, in the corner by the window that she usually loves to sit at. He’s wearing a gray sweater and blue jeans, a baseball cap flipped backwards on his head. She waves off the hostess and heads in his direction.

He looks up from his phone and immediately locks it, standing up. She smiles in greeting and he comes around to grab her bag as she shrugs off her jacket. She thanks him softly, to which he just smiles back at. As she’s sitting down, he pours out some water.

“You didn’t get lost getting here?” She jokes.

He rolls his eyes. “I’m not that directionally challenged. Just not used to it.”

“That’s what you get for living in Jersey.”

“Oh. So that’s how we’re gonna play this?”

And that just sets the tone for the rest of the date. It’s…surprisingly easy. The follow up question immediately is if she’s from the city, to which she snorts and says “absolutely not,” but she’s been living here for over two years now. She grew up in Buffalo, she says, and went to college at University of Minnesota, to which he, of course, widens his eyes. “You went to Minnesota, and you’re not a hockey fan?” She rolls her eyes. “When did I say I’m not a hockey fan?” She talks about how yes, she went to a couple of games when she was there and they were always fun, but she wasn’t necessarily an avid fan.

He talks about growing up in Toronto even though he was born in Orlando and then going to Michigan and how hockey was literally just his life from a young age, especially with parents who were also involved, as well as an older and a younger brother growing up to play too. Sure, she knows all of this (she couldn’t help herself and did enough research), but it is nice and different to hear from him directly. She does slip for a second and makes fun of his private school upbringing (“It tracks.”) but the shocked delight on his face lets her know that he doesn’t take offense.

As they order the food and it comes and they start eating, she lets herself be charmed. She didn’t expect him to be so…normal. Normal in the way that she often forgot that he was one of the best hockey players in the country. Normal in the way that parts of him remind her of her closest guy friends. But then he would mention something about his career or just a random detail in his life that would make her remember.

She notices that he also is very aware of how much he talks. It’s natural for her to ask more questions, because that’s just how she’s wired, but he turns questions back to her that excite her or make her laugh, and then she goes on a minor tangent. It’s very back and forth. Balanced.

She’s having a really good time.

She expected him to be more…straight-forward in terms of flirting, due to how he asked her out, but he’s not. He seems a bit nervous at times even, chuckling adorably and avoiding eye contact, but then he says something that’s so just so incredibly confident that makes her flustered or let out a scoff of disbelief.

Before they know it, they’re done eating. She protests when he immediately grabs the check and pulls out his card, to which he just playfully glares at her for. She does relent and thanks him, and she’ll never forget the boyish smile he gave her.

They’re both on the same page, not wanting their time together to end quite yet, lingering to leave. And then she suggests grabbing a coffee from a place around the corner and walking to a nearby park. She teases him, asking if he’ll get cold to which he scoffs at (“I’m basically a Canadian and I live at the rink. I’ll be fine. Will you?” She laughs. “I was born and raised in Buffalo. Don’t worry about me.”)

They grab coffee (to which she puts her foot down and pays and he lets her), him a black coffee and her an iced chai, and she leads them leisurely to a nearby park. It’s a little chilly, but it’s not windy which is good, and they find an empty bench and sit down, their conversation and battering just coming so incredibly easy. Even to the point where sometimes, she’s not necessarily calling him out, but she’s challenging some of his thoughts. She’s not shattering his confidence at all, but definitely subtly giving him a reality check and just being honest.

And not even purposefully. It’s just how she is.

(He really appreciates it, actually. It’s been awhile since someone who he’s just met isn’t afraid to challenge him off the rink. He loves the attention and always has, and she’s giving that to him, but there’s also something innate in her that’s so grounded and in turns, grounds him.)

But it’s also different. It’s different when he randomly throws out a compliment here and there, saying how he loves her laugh and how cute she is. The way he’s paying attention to everything she’s saying. The way he just can’t help but chuckle almost incredulously because she’s so much more than he imagined, even though he’s the one who asked her out.

Before they know it, it’s almost 4 and they’ve been chatting the whole time. Yet somehow, it still feels like they could keep going. She walks him to the nearest subway station since it’s on her way home. She gives him a farewell hug and he follows his gut and kisses her on the cheek, promising to text her. She smiles one more time before turning to walk back to her apartment.

When she gets back to her place, Carrie’s there and ready for a recap. She says everything she can remember them talking about, which is a lot, while Carrie just listens carefully. Throughout it, she’s trying to downplay it, probably for self-preservation purposes, looking back. Carrie lets her dwell on it occasionally, but also interrupts when needed to try to assure her friend that she’s a catch and there’s a reason he asked her out in the first place and she can’t play herself down like that.

What she knows for a fact at this point is that she likes spending time with him, and she does have romantic feelings for him. Everything else? She has no idea. She has no idea if they’d pair together well. She has no idea what he wants from this. She has no idea how he actually feels about her, because he could’ve just thrown out those compliments because he’s naturally flirty. It wouldn’t surprise her. And god, she can’t help but let her mind wander into his career and being in the spotlight and how that just affects…everything.

She just doesn’t know.

(Meanwhile, he returns to an empty place, Luke out with some friends for the night. He can’t stop smiling, replaying the whole day in his head. She’s just so much more than he expected, able to keep up with his quips, often beating them. She laughs and smiles so freely. She’s so damn smart. She’s beautiful.

He’s had his fair share of hookups and casual things, but this? This is different. It’s scary, he thinks, that he’s this invested after one date. It’s unfamiliar territory, and there’s so much more he wants to know about her.

He needs to know everything he can about her. Before she figures out that she’s way too good for him.)

*****

Four weeks pass, and they haven’t seen each other. There have been some sporadic texts here and there, but with the chaos of both their jobs and then Thanksgiving, it hasn’t accounted to more than that.

(She’s trying to get over it and let it pass. He wants anything but that)

On an early December evening, Maia’s just finished cleaning up the dishes when she gets a call. When she sees his name, she blinks. She clicks accept.

“Hello?”

“Hi. It’s Jack.”

She can’t help but chuckle a bit. “Yeah, I know. What’s up?”

“How are you? How was your Thanksgiving?”

“I’m doing okay. Thanksgiving was good! I got to go back home for a few days. How about you? Did you even have a break?”

“Not really. I had some family come to watch some games though, so that was nice.”

“I’m sure it was,” she hums.

“Listen-I…I know it’s been awhile.”

“Almost a month.”

“Yeah,” he breathes out guiltily. “I-I’m really sorry about that. I’ve…the season’s just been so crazy and, yeah. I’ve been meaning to reach out sooner, but just, like. Yeah. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine,” she replies automatically. “I get it. Your schedule is crazy. I feel like you have a game every other day.”

“You’ve been keeping up?” He teases lightly.

She rolls her eyes. “A bit more than I used to, sure. But that really doesn’t mean anything.”

He laughs a bit, before settling down into a serious tone. “If you have time, or if you even want to, because I totally understand why you wouldn’t, I’d love to go out again. I just, I had a really good time with you last time. Again, I know I…if you say no, I get it.”

It’s silent for a couple of seconds, but she knows her answer. “I’d love to.”

“Really?”

“Really,” she smiles to herself at his surprised tone. “You surprised?”

“A bit. I mean, I kinda fell off the face of the planet. I would understand if you didn’t want to see me again.”

“Jack.”

“Yeah?”

“When are you free?”

He sighs. “This week? Not much, unfortunately. I’m only around for dinner tomorrow and Friday, and then I’m gone for a few days on a stretch of away games.”

“Wanna do tomorrow?”

“You around?”

She snorts. “I’m not as busy as you are, Mr. NHL. I’m free most weeknights.”

He lets out a low laugh. “Okay, yeah. Tomorrow night’s perfect. I’ll actually be in the city in the afternoon to meet up with a friend so I’ll just stay and meet you around there.”

“Oh good. I don’t have to pretend I want to go to Jersey.”

“This again?”

She laughs. “I can choose this time. Do you know where you’re meeting your friend?

“Yeah. I have his address. Hang on, I’ll send it to you.” Seconds later, her phone buzzes and she briefly looks at the location on Google Maps.

“Oh. Battery Park. That’s close to where I am. You must really like this friend if you’re willing to travel that far. It’s a pretty long way from Newark.”

“Right? That’s what I told him. So, tomorrow night, yeah?”

“Yeah. I can figure out a place and I’ll let you know tomorrow morning the latest if that works? What kind of food do you like?”

“Anything you like.”

“Jack.”

“I mean it.”

“Okay, okay. How does ramen sound?”

“Perfect. I gotta go, but I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? I’ll text you,”

“See you tomorrow.”

“Can’t wait.”

Tomorrow comes, this time at a lowkey but busy ramen place where they’re sat side by side and their knees are touching. Jack’s hair is out this time, and the waves are falling across his forehead and she just loves the way it looks. He notices the two rings she’s wearing as one quickly catches a light in the restaurant. They continue on from the last time they talked but this time, swimming the surface of deeper conversations.

She talks about her constant doubts about her job and how she sometimes just wants to pick up and movs somewhere else and start new. He talks about how he knows he’s good at hockey and knows this is the only path for him, but how he recognizes that outsiders look and sometimes see a sell-out or someone who doesn’t work hard. But he’s learned to just put his head down and play and to do it well. That’s something she can also relate to.

She talks about how her relationship with her older brother is one that she’s found to be very grateful for, especially because they’re so far apart in age. A lot of who she is is based on his personality. He talks about being the middle child and being close in age to his brothers, and how competition was always just built into every activity they did. He’s realized, especially as he’s gotten older, how much he appreciates his brothers and having all three of them being in the same league, with Luke on the same team, and going through similar experiences but also completely different trajectories.

(Somewhere, they both take a few sake shots and Maia’s not quite drunk, but buzzing, her laughter more free and her face redder).

Even semi-intoxicated, she decides not to ask the questions she really wants to yet that focus around them and what they are, unclear of where they stand. They’re sitting so close to each other and she relishes in it, wanting more. When she runs a hand through her hair to push it back, she notices his eyes flickering at that action, which means…nothing. She has to break away eye contact sometimes because he’s just staring at her so intensely.

No wonder he has girls wanting him left and right, she thinks. She’s kind of no better.

Towards the end of the night (he paid again and she only let him after he said he would let her pay next time. Next time), they plan out vaguely when they’ll see each other next. He’s away for the next week or so, and she just shrugs. She gets it. It would be naive of her to think she can change it. “I’ll let you know the second I land,” he says, and she just nods. She then jokes that maybe their next date could be skating, and he rolls his eyes, though he takes it into consideration. When he asks if she’s serious, she snorts, “I mean, sure. But you’re not gonna have to teach me how, if that’s what you’re going for.” He laughs. Loudly.

When they part ways, he hugs her tightly and for a long time. She breathes him in subtly, her eyes fluttering shut when she feels him press a lingering kiss on her forehead.

Maybe that’s when she should’ve asked. Because that act was way too intimate to feel friendly. But she didn’t, and she watched him walk away, chuckling as he turned around to shoot her a parting wink.

She went to sleep that night, somehow, with so many thoughts circling around her mind)

*****

Maia has an idea of when he’s landing, so she’s not surprised when she gets a call on a Thursday night.

He seems a bit out of breath, and she asks him if everything’s okay. Everything’s fine, he says. He just landed back in Newark and is heading home. He cuts to the chase, and asks if she’s around the next night. She blinks, because she knows he has a game. He clarifies. Is she around after the game? (“Or for the game,” he adds quickly. “If you want to come, I can get you tickets.”) While she’s flattered, she knows that’s crossing a line at this point and she politely turns down his offer. But yeah, she says. I’m around after. What’s up? He asks if he can take her out on a date. And she knows her answer (it’s obviously yes) but she says only if she’s allowed to go to him in Jersey. He protests immediately, but she shuts him up (“Both of our dates have been way closer to where I am. It’s only fair, Maia.”)

It’s gonna be a late night date, since the game (assuming no overtime) won’t end until at least 10:00. He’s not sure what he has in store, but she’s okay with not knowing. The only thing he assures her of is that he’ll drive her back into the city afterwards. Traffic should be light, so she doesn’t fight him.

(That should’ve been another hint that this was something worth pursuing. She has a hard time letting go of control of plans, especially with people she hasn’t known for awhile.

She trusts him already)

When he hangs up, she thinks for a second. He had told her during their last date that he would let her know the second he landed.

And he did.

Huh.

*****

The next night, she’s nervous.

Dinner’s already been eaten. She caught the first period of his game, but had to leave to catch her trains to meet him. With encouraging words from Carrie paired with some hype up music, she’s on her way.

When she steps out of the station on this abnormally warm December night, she immediately sees him leaning against his car. His hair is damp from the shower he probably just took, and he’s sporting a peacoat over a sweater and blue jeans.

He perks up when he sees her and she practically skips over to him. She smiles and pulls him into a hug, and she feels him press a light kiss in her hair.

“Hey.” She says softly.

“Hi,” he mutters in her hair, pulling away to lean down and place a kiss on her cheek. “It’s good to see you.” He opens the door for her as she slides in, and she’s thankful that she followed her instincts and dressed comfortably in her beloved Minnesota sweatshirt, stifling a yawn as she thanked him. She puts on her seatbelt and leans back, watching him climb in.

He turns to her, “Wanna aux?”

“Are you sure?” She asks, already fiddling around to connect her Apple carplay.

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” He chuckles, looking behind him to pull onto the road.

She shrugs. “What kind of music do you want?”

“Whatever you want.”

She snorts. “You don’t mean that.” She scrolls through her playlists and debates on which one to do. “I saw that you guys lost. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he replies automatically and she catches his eye and gives him a look of doubt. He corrects himself. “Okay, it’s frustrating, but none of that right now. I wanna hear about you. How’s your week been? Did that thing with your boss get resolved?”

She blinks. Right. She had mentioned that briefly when he called her earlier in the week. “Kinda.”

“Kinda?”

“Yeah,” she sighs. “I don’t know. You gotta learn which battles to fight, you know? This one is one I don’t have to win.”

He nods with a soft hum, stopping at a red light. “Do you like milkshakes?”

She chuckles a bit at the change of topic. “I don’t mind them.”

“Wanna get some right now?”

“Would it matter if I said no?”

“No,” he admits. “Because I want one.”

“That can’t be on the diet plan you athletes have going on.”

“Oh, it definitely isn’t. Worth it though.”

“Do they have oreo or cookies and cream?”

“Yes.”

“Then yes.” He grins, and she takes a couple seconds just to watch it. “Thanks for coming to get me.”

“Thanks for coming out to Jersey at 10 pm.”

She chuckles. His heart drops to his stomach. “I had nothing else to do on a Friday night.”

He snorts. “Yeah, okay. I don’t believe that.”

“Really?”

He shrugs.

She leans back into her seat. “I don’t have the energy to hang out with people every night. Respect to the people who do. That’s just never been me. I can sit for hours and not talk to anyone.”

“You’re an introvert, then.”

“Is that surprising?”

He takes a second to think about it. “Yes, one, because you always talk about your friends so I know you have a lot. And two, because we literally talked for four hours on our first date.”

She shrugs, looking straight ahead of her to get the courage to respond. “There’s very few people in my life who I can talk with for hours.”

“I’ll consider myself lucky, then.”

She looks back over to him, watching as he shoots her a quick smile before he focuses back on the road. “How’s your week been?”

“The usual. Practices and games and travelling in the west coast, so I’m a little jetlagged, which isn’t great.”

“I didn’t realize that you guys play games like, every other day. Which is dumb, because like, it makes sense, but that just sounds exhausting. What am I saying though? It’s literally your job.”

He laughs softly and she tries to ignore the warmth spreading across her skin. “It can be tiring, for sure. But yeah, I love it, you know? Wouldn’t want to be doing anything else.”

“I know exactly what you mean.” Just then, they pull into this small, unassuming diner and roll right through the drive-thru. He orders a chocolate milkshake and she gets an oreo one, and before he can think about it, she forces her credit card in his hand. He laughs and relents, and they pull out and are back on the road quickly. She sips on her milkshake and smiles to herself, not even asking where he’s driving them to next.

(She thinks they could be anywhere and she’d still want to keep talking to him forever. He thinks that practically every worry in his life could fade away if he could look at her smile for the rest of his life)

He rolls up to one of his favorite views in Jersey of midtown Manhattan, finding an alcove and backing his car into it. Hamilton Park. They both get out and all she can do is stand there and admire the stunning view, milkshake in hand. She’s literally breathless. The last time she remembers feeling like this is when she saw the Pantheon for the first time nearing midnight with her brother when they were in Rome in 2022. She doesn’t notice him unlocking the trunk and setting up the backseat with blankets and pillows until he softly calls her name.

(When her eyes met his, the glow of Manhattan in her eyes, he swears to this day that his heart skipped a beat. He was hers already then)

They settle into the makeshift couch, not quite touching but really freaking close.

“It’s beautiful,” she says softly, just looking at the view.

He hums, his eyes flickering between the view he knows too well and the girl who makes him feel better about who he is simply for just being around. It sure is.

She lets herself admire the view silently for a minute or so more, before she can’t take it anymore. “Jack?” She asks, still looking out.

“Yeah?”

“What are we doing?”

“What do you mean?”

Wrong answer, if the unimpressed expression on her face is any indication. She nudges her knee with his. “Come on. You know exactly what I mean. What are we doing? What are we?”

He shrugs, trying to ignore the frogs in his stomach. He should’ve known she was gonna bring it up first. She’s too smart not to. “I-I like you. Wouldn’t have chased after you if I didn’t. You-you’re amazing, you know that? I don’t think you realize how much you can just stay on someone’s mind. I know this is only our third date, but I feel like I’ve known you my whole life and I like who I am when I’m around you.”

She swallows, pausing to sip her milkshake and wiggling into the blankets. He thinks she’s adorable. “I haven’t liked someone in so long. I thought I forgot what it felt like. But then you asked me out and I see a text from you or hear you through my phone or see you on TV, and I’m like oh. I think I remember what it feels like now. It feels like this.”

He has to take a second because oh, maybe her dreams of becoming an author aren’t just words. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She swallows again. “But I, I can’t do casual. I never have. I really, really wish I could

sometimes. So if that’s what you want, I can’t do it.”

“What makes you think I want casual?”

She snorts, “Because you’re a hot and talented hockey player? You can’t blame me for making the assumption.”

“You think I’m hot?”

Maia smacks him in the stomach. Jack laughs. She takes a breath. It’s now or never. “I just, I know you have girls in your DMs and your comments and everywhere else that are prettier and maybe could give you more of what you’re looking for or something that’s not…me.”

“You’re beautiful.”

She lets out a small noise and smiles slightly. “Thanks. But, I-I know that you have so many options. I won’t be hurt if I’m not the one you choose.”

He taps her knee so she’s paying attention and listening to his next words. “I-I’ve done casual before. I don’t think I can do that with you.”

“You can’t? Why not?”

“Well, A, because you don’t want to, which leads to B, I don’t want to. Not with you.” It’s his turn to swallow now as he looks at the skyline. “I really, really like you, Maia.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“All in?”

“All in.”

“You completely sure?” She interlaces her hand in with his and raises his knuckles up to her lips. He’s utterly floored. But he’s nervous. And she can sense it.

“Yes. I just…it’s, I’m not trying to backtrack. I mean, you’ve already seen some of it. Like, during the season, it’s intense. Game every two or three days, practice pretty much everyday, stretches of roadies and being away. I feel like, not that I doubt you or us or anything, but that’s not, I won’t be around as much as I should be. How is that fair to you?”

“Yeah, I mean, yeah. I figured that from the first day. I get it. Well, as much as I can get it. I’m sure it’s gonna be tough. I know it will be.” She squeezes his hand, leaning on his shoulder. “If you’re willing to try, then so am I.”

“You’re too good for me.”

She scoffs, grinning as he places a kiss on her temple. She places her milkshake by her side, summoning up some courage. She adjusts herself so that she’s fully facing him, and he just watches her intensely. With her white BU crewneck, a blanket around her shoulders, hair falling just past her shoulders, and the soft smile on her face, his mind goes quiet. Peaceful.

She kisses him first. Innocently and softly, before pulling back to gauge his reaction.

He responds quickly, cupping her cheek and pressing his lips against hers again. They’re both smiling into the kiss and everything feels calm. He wraps a hand around her waist as she maneuvers her hands around his neck, playing with his hair. She’s so lost in him that she doesn’t really realize that she moves herself so that she hovers over his lap, knees on either side of his hips. He has his hands placed on her lower back.

He lets out a low groan, “Baby.”

Her brain short circuits, both at the nickname (she’s always flinched at it before, but she loves the way he says it) and the timbre of his voice, but she has enough sense to pull away. They’re both breathing heavily. “Sorry,” she breathes out, leaning her forehead on his shoulder. She closes her eyes. She needs a second.

“Don’t be,” he says, bringing her face back up to his and brushing his thumbs on her cheek. “God, you’re so beautiful. I’ve been wanting to do that since the minute I saw you.”

She chuckles, sliding off of him and settling into his side, staring out at the skyline again. “You’ve had plenty of chances.”

“I kinda knew if I kissed you before knowing what we were, it would be more heartbreaking if you rejected me.”

“If I rejected you?”

“Yes.”

“In what world would I have rejected you?”

“I don’t know. But I’m glad it’s not this world.”

She keeps herself from rolling her eyes, and just leans up to kiss him on the cheek. Because, you know, she can do that now.

(That night, staring out at the stunning skyline of a city she has grown to love, with the warmth of the blankets over her legs and over her shoulder, a boy she was very quickly growing to care for deeply pressed by her side, telling her he feels the same way, she felt lifted. Free.

Unstoppable)

(When he drops her home, it’s 1:18 a.m. and she doesn’t want to get out of the car. With the way his hand has been attached to her thigh, it seems like he doesn’t want her to get out either. But he has an 11 am practice tomorrow and he just had a game. He’s exhausted.

He kisses her once, twice, a third time before letting her go. As soon as she steps through the lobby of her apartment building and out of view, his grin practically splits his face. He smiles all the way home)

158 notes · View notes

emsdevs · 3 days ago

Note

Luke Hughes requests reader is doing the TikTok trend where she ask Luke and Jack questions about her to see who knows her better but pretends that Jack get all the answers right and Luke gets them wrong and his reaction Jack also knows what the reader is up to please

Know Me Better

a/n: i had way way wayyy too much fun with this one! nonnie you're a genius!! sorry for the wait but i hope it was worth it!! fair warning this is mostly dialogue!

masterlist | NHL Masterlists | Luke Hughes Masterlist

It took you days to talk both boys into doing a TikTok with you. Jack was completely against it until you told him you planned to prank Luke, and then he was game. Luke was much easier to convince after you had Jack’s help.

About a week ago, you were doing your nightly TikTok scroll when you came across a video of a girl pranking her boyfriend. She had gotten him and his best friend to answer questions she was asking about herself. However, she was pretending that whatever the best friend said was right and her boyfriend was wrong. The best friend was obviously in on it, and it took the boyfriend way too long to catch on. As soon as the video ended, you knew you needed to try the video with Luke and Jack.

Now, the two brothers sat at their kitchen table, you standing behind them with your list of questions at the ready. You prop your phone up and press record.

“Okay, guys, so I have this list of questions about myself, and I’m gonna make my boyfriend and his brother,” you point at Luke and Jack respectively, “and by the end, we’ll see who knows me better. You guys ready?”

“So ready, babe.”

“Yeah, let’s go.” “Okay! First question is easy. What is my favorite color?”

“Oh! Easy it’s purple!” Luke is the first to answer.

“No bro it’s green,” Jack says smoothly.

“Jack got it right! Good job!”

“Babe, no. Your favorite color is purple. It’s always been purple,” Luke is confused, his brows furrowed.

“No, hun, I changed it a few weeks ago remember? We talked about it with Jack.”

“Whatever,” he gives up, not wanting to argue while doing something you were so excited for.

“Okay, next question! What is my favorite flower?” “Oh! Marigolds!” Jack jumps in first this time.

“Um, no. It’s lilies.”

“Actually, Lukey, Jack is right! How did you even know that?” “Heard you guys talking about it last week,” Jack shrugs, knowing that’s not what he heard you say your favorite flower was.

“You mean when I got her lilies, and she was so happy because lilies are her favorites? So she told me that lilies were her favorites ten times?” Luke was beginning to get frustrated, narrowing his eyes at his brother. He knows for a fact that lilies are your favorite flowers, so he doesn’t know where Jack is pulling his information from or why you’re agreeing with everything Jack says. Then again, what if Jack is right? Is Luke a bad boyfriend?

“Anyway! Next! What color were my nails two weeks ago?”

“Light blue!” Jack speaks up again. He had no idea what color your nails were. He was guessing random stuff at this point.

“They were dark red, kinda a maroon color, and your ring fingers had a tiny white heart on them,” Luke knows there’s no way he was getting this one wrong. He had gone to your nail appointment with you, content to sit and mess around on his phone while you got your nails done.

“Wow, Luke, that’s impressive detail, but Jack was right.”

“What?” he was borderline shouting, not really angry, just offended. He knew he was right, but what if he wasn’t? Either way, how was Jack getting every question right? “Babe, I know for a fact that’s what you got. I bought them. At the salon. I was there. I paid. Right in front of you.”

“No, baby, that was the set before the blue ones,” you force yourself to ignore the pout that now sits on your boyfriend’s face, “Okay, next up! What’s my go-to karaoke song?”

“Oh! It’s ‘Black’ by Dierks Bentley!”

“No, dude. It’s ‘Dancing Queen’ from that one Meryl Streep movie,” Jack had seen you sing that song once at karaoke, and it was after you sang “Black.”

“Oh, my god! Jack got it right, again!”

“No, babe. We sing ‘Black’ together,” Luke was giving you puppy dog eyes now, and you’re not sure how long you can keep this up.

Jack steps in to save you from answering again, “Yeah, bro, but she said her go-to karaoke song. That one is for both of you.”

“Whatever. How many more questions are there?” His pout is intensifying, and you can tell if you keep this up much longer, he’ll walk out. You decide to make the next question a little more obvious, something only Luke would know.

“Okay, Lukey, you should get this one. What did I eat on our first date?”

“Chicken alfredo,” Luke answers without even having to think about it. He remembers every detail of that night.

“Nah, she had a plate of shrimp.” You don’t eat shrimp. Jack knows this. Luke knows this. That’s when it all sets in for Luke.

“Are you two kidding me?” he shrieks standing up, giggles coming out of his open mouth. “You’ve been messing with me this whole time?”

“Yes, Lukey,” you’re cracking up. You can’t help it, “You got every question right.”

“I knew it! You two had me freaking out thinking I was a bad boyfriend or something!”

“Sorry, man. She put me up to it,” Jack could barely talk through his laughter, but he still managed to throw you under the bus.

“Jerk!” Jack continued laughing as he walked away. You stopped the video, laughter still taking over you and Luke, “I’m sorry. I saw a video like that and thought it would be funny,” you smile at your boyfriend sheepishly.

“Yeah, real funny,” he rolls his eyes before grabbing your waist and throwing you over his shoulder.

You’re overcome with giggles yet again, “Where are you taking me?”

“To bed! We’re watching Secretariat, so you can make this up to me! And your hand better be in my hair the whole time!”

taglist: @heartsforjh @alex-wotton @devilinpradaheels @juxmi @macklin-celebrini-71 @puckmedude @alexxavicry @dancerbailey3 @madebyhappymeals @beenucks @

join the taglist

#em's writing #em's inbox #em's nonnies #luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #lh43 #new jersey devils #njd #nj devils #nhl #nhl x reader

377 notes · View notes

ink-stainedkiss · 14 hours ago

Text

Nerd Gojo Headcannons

A/N: I’m so sorry for my lack of activeness. please forgive me🙏🙏 I’ve had so much stuff with school and yesterday was my birthday so my schedule has been packed. I wanted to give you guys something small for now so my accounts not collecting dust, but i promise more will be coming in days prior!! Love you all!💕

Nerd!Gojo who is still completely shocked you chose him out of everyone on campus. Gojo was a known geek, someone who got excited about the latest comic and his grades never fell below an A+. Well lucky for him, you found the fact he was so nerdy to be extremely cute.

Nerd!Gojo who loves planning adorable dates with you, but it’s never commonplace. He will set up picnics right in front of a beautiful lake, taking you to a pottery class and giggling at how dumb your ‘masterpieces’ look, or simply creating a candlelight dinner in your apartment.

Nerd!Gojo who adores you and he makes it extremely known. For someone so shy when the two of you first met, he definitely has warmed up to you. Before, he was too scared to even stand next to you because he was afraid he would slip up and embarrass himself, but now he never leaves your side. You can’t exit the same room with him without giving him a long kiss goodbye, even if you're just grabbing ice from the hallway. Hugs, kisses, handholding, cuddles, you name it, Gojo loves it.

Nerd!Gojo who isn’t the best at taking care of himself. He often stays up late to finish homework or a project that could easily be done the next day, but unfortunately he’s a try hard and will force himself to stay awake until it’s done. Before you, he relied on energy drinks to keep him up and when all of the work was done, he would sleep the weekend away, barely leaving his dorm. Even now, you have to scold him for his unhealthy studying habits.

You were peacefully chatting with your friends, going on about the tests and assignments being piled on top of each other. As you spoke, your group’s eyes shift behind you, but you couldn’t turn before two lanky arms were sliding around your waist. Soft lips gently landed on your exposed neck and in your peripheral vision you saw a puff of white hair. Of course it was Gojo. Your friends did not hold back their cheeky looks, some of them turning and looking off in another direction while muffaling their giggles.

Blush rose to your cheeks instantly and you heard your boyfriend speak up,”Hi Baby.” He’s obviously tired, his voice groggier than normal, but he still has the energy to cover you in his love. You shift your body to face him, cupping his cheek, and you get a good look at his face. Like you expected, he looks on the brink of passing out. His usually bright eyes were a bit dimmer and there were vague shadows coating his under eyes. His own hand reached up and held the one of his face, turning his head to plant tiny kisses to your palm.

“Have you been sleeping?” Gojo sees the disappointed frown on your face, because you already knew the answer. He sighed, leaning into your touch,”Maybe.” The short response was enough to finalize your question. It didn’t help that he had shut his eyes and was practically sleeping against your palm. Turning to your friends, you excused yourself, dragging a half-asleep Gojo on your side the entire time you left.

Nerd!Gojo who knows he should listen to your stern lectures on why he needs to stop doing all nighters, but even if he felt like shit after, without fail the two of you would cuddle on his bed and take a long cat nap. You were never as tired as Gojo, so most of the time you would be awake, reading, or scrolling on your phone, while Gojo slept soundly on your lap.

Nerd!Gojo who may or may not do your homework if you leave it out. He tells himself he shouldn’t, since you tell him it’s not his responsibility to do your own work, but he can’t help it. You’re his girlfriend after all and it would be mean of Gojo to not fill out the first half of the paper and maybe the back half if he has time. (He does it regardless)

Nerd!Gojo who nearly cries when you get him a figurine of his favorite superhero character. He constantly gushes about how cool they are and doesn’t notice how you aren’t even listening to the topic, just focusing on how his eyes light up with pure joy. You have adapted to Gojo’s interest, never denying a trip to the movies with him to see a new action film he has been freaking out about. Holidays are like Gojo’s heaven because you always end up getting him another item for his very large collection. Each time you are smothered in kisses then dragged to his room to watch him rearrange his overcrowded stock.

Nerd!Gojo who is so thankful for you and some nights, wakes up to watch you sleep calmly. His fingers rake over your face and images of your future together flash in his head.

152 notes · View notes

luvacookie · 2 days ago

Text

୨୧ say cheese.

choso kamo always gets what he wants in the end.

❥ warnings : kind of stalker choso, alcohol usage, light smut, photo taking, fem blk coded reader, intended use of lower case.

❥ cookie for ur thoughts ? : a little choso drabble bcs im going through it and need him biblically. also ignoring that ive been missing for 9 months…

possessive ! choso who likes to poke fun at you all the time, loving to get you all riled up because it’s cute to see you with an attitude

possessive ! choso who sneaks his way into your life almost daily, some how finding away to piss you off differently every single day

possessive ! choso who tells you that it’s just a joke and to lighten up when you snap at him

“it’s not fucking funny ! is it that hard to leave me alone ?” you shout at him, your hands resting on your hips.

he raises his hands, a small smirk on his face. “i’m sorry princess, forgot how sensitive you are.”

possessive ! choso who watches as you stomp away, muttering profanity under your breath about how much you hate his stupid face

possessive ! choso who had been following your every move for longer than you could imagine, silently stalking you on your socials and even going as far to sometimes stalk you in person

possessive ! choso whose gears grind when he sees you talking to literally any other male but him, you were his after all

“your new boyfriend is cute isn’t he ?” he asks playfully, though his joking demeanour doesn’t quite match the dull look in his eyes.

you scoff, “him ? my boyfriend ? you insult me. he’s just a friend.”

“that’s why you were all fucking over him, yeah ?” he mumbles, looking off to the side somewhere.

possessive ! choso who goes to all the same social events as you because it gives him an opportunity to see you all dolled up and outside of college

possessive ! choso who sees you at a party dancing with another guy and something inside of him snaps

possessive ! choso who drags you away from the random, forcing you into a close proximity with him and him only

“what the fuck !” you shout at him, mildly intoxicated and definitely angered.

“why were you all up on that guy y/n ? you know he was just trying to get a quick fuck from you,” he says harshly, missing the way your face contorts.

you scoffed in his face. “so what, maybe i wanted a quick fuck from him too.”

possessive ! choso whose blood boils at the statement, disgusted at the thought of that creep putting his cock in you

possessive ! choso who ushers you up stairs into the nearest bedroom, locking the door behind him

possessive ! choso who kisses you roughly as soon as he gets his hands on you

“such a needy slut huh ?” he mocks you, breathing heavily whilst you whine at him for more.

“shut the fuck up and kiss me choso,” you snap, dragging him back in for a longer, more heated makeout.

he moans against your lips and pushes you on the bed, “wanted this for so long princess.”

possessive ! choso leaving dark bites all over your exposed skin, warning off anyone who dared to come near you for the rest of the night

possessive ! choso undressing you swiftly then getting his phone out of his back pocket

“smile baby, want everyone to know who you belong to,” he mumbles, angling the camera over your body.

you comply with him, giving him a sweet, innocent smile.

“fuckkkk... i’m gonna fuckin’ ruin you,” he groans, the flash highlighting all your curves.

possessive ! choso who follows through on his words, giving you the most soul-shattering orgasm of your life

possessive ! choso who sets that picture as his lock screen when he’s done so he can always stare at your beautiful body and face

#🍪: alexies cookie crumbs.#jjk x black!fem reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #choso smut #choso x reader #jjk #choso kamo #x reader

153 notes · View notes

checkeredflagggs · 2 days ago

Text

Febuwhump Day 3: Pinned Down

pairings: gen

summary: a story about y/n, Redbull’s new second driver, told in non-sequential order

a/n: I love febuwhump and have participated before for other fandoms but this is a first for me — attempting to compete it via smau only. Hopefully I can write a complete story eventually and I will be posting it on its own masterlist in the correct order to read but it’ll be written based on the febuwhump prompt list! @febuwhump

a/n2: based on the 2024 year; sorry checo but you got replaced earlier!

y/n_rb

liked by redbullracing, maxverstappen1, and 1,231,245 others

y/n_rb: let’s do it babes! One last race before summer break!

view all comments

user1: getting a dose of Senioritis here?

↳y/n_rb: NO! In fact I’m counting down the days till I can get BACK into the car again and break hasn’t even started!

↳y/n_rb: and stop calling me old!!

maxverstappen1: Show them how it’s done!

↳y/n_rb: oh you know it!

redbullracing: get it girl!

↳y/n_rb: 🏆🏆🏆🏆 getting it!

↳y/n_rb: ^^^ all my trophies thank you

↳user2: yeah!!! Show them them at you’ve been getting it already!

↳y/n_rb: 👈🏻😎👉🏻

logansargeant: one last weekend before I get a break from seeing you? Thank you 🙏

↳y/n_rb: you’d think right?

↳logansargeant: …what do you mean?

↳y/n_rb: 🤭🤭🤭🤭

↳logansargeant: WHAT DOES THIS MEAN??

↳user3: so slay of her to menace everyone liked by y/n_rb

fernandoalo_oficial: ¡Lo harás genial, chico! you'll do great, kid!

↳user4: isn’t it so nice seeing 2 rookies get along?

↳user5: there’s no way that old man is a rookie???

↳y/n_rb: YOU TAKE THAT BACK! HE’S A ROOKIE!

↳y/n_rb: Mr. Fernando sir of course. I’ll do you proud 🫡

↳fernandoalo_oficial: ¿Sabes que puedes llamarme solo Fernando? you know you can call me just Fernando?

↳y/n_rb: I don’t think you understand how much I can’t do that. Thanks 😊

↳user6: wait you speak Spanish? I just realized

↳y/n_rb: while you were busy goofing off, I studied the blade (Mr. Fernando)

↳user6: iconic actually

liked by user, user, user, and 2,234,123 others

tagged: y/n_rb, lewishamilton, fernandoalo_oficial

f1: and that’s contact. y/n_rb was pinned down between the wall and lewishamilton who himself was boxed in by fernandoalo_oficial. This marks the end of the race for y/n_rb. No contact has been made from y/n_rb yet.

view all comments

user7: Jesus…

↳user8: I hope she’s ok. That crash was bad, bad

user9: it’s been almost 2 minutes and they still don’t have word from her…

↳user10: the marshals are booking it to her

↳user11: why did it take so long????? She slammed into that wall so hard

user12: air support has apparently been called for

↳user13: it’s that bad?

↳user12: her car is all over the track and she STILL hasn’t responded

↳user14: they’ve called the race for it

↳user15: good god finally

user16: this is either gonna be the best day of her life or the worst

↳user17: we don’t even know if she’s ok?

↳user16: she crashed with Lewis Hamilton and Fernando Alonso though

↳user17: …ok you might be on to something

↳user18: let’s be real — she’d probably comment something like “my fav threesome”

↳user16: 😂

↳user17: that does seem like her

user20: it’s been a couple of hours — is there still no word?

↳user21: logansargeant posted something. Apparently he’s at a hospital — I’m assuming it’s for her

logansargeant

liked by lewishamilton, fernandoalo_oficial, maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri, and 1,928,333 others

tagged: y/n_rb

logansargeant: still no news but I’ve been told that’s a good thing?

view all comments

user22: keeping y/n_rb in our thoughts!

lewishamilton: where?

↳logansargeant: check the group chat — I’ve sent the location

↳lewishamilton: on my way

↳fernandoalo_oficial: mismo same

user23: thanks for the update Logan!

oscarpiastri: need anything before I come?

↳logansargeant: my bag?

↳oscarpiastri: 👍🏻. Food?

↳logansargeant: shockingly good here

francisca.cgomes: dis-moi — est-ce que mon amour va vraiment bien? tell me — is my love really ok?

↳logansargeant: as y/n would say — babe you’ll be the first person I text (when I finally can)

↳pierregasly: are you…are you helping y/n steal my girlfriend? (Merci de nous tenir au courant. Thanks for keeping us in the loop.)

↳logansargeant: (channeling y/n) our girlfriend Frenchie 🤝

↳francisca.cgomes: ma chérie…

↳pierregasly: 🙄🙄

charles_leclerc: leo is ready and waiting to give healing kisses when able too

↳logansargeant: careful there — she might try to steal your dog

↳pierregasly: she might try to steal your girlfriend too

↳charles_leclerc: …noted

↳alexandrasaintmleux: oh? 🤨

↳charles_leclerc: nothing to see here

maxverstappen1: Tell y/n_rb that Jimmy and Sassy (the #1 pets) are waiting for her back in Monaco 🇲🇨

↳charles_leclerc: Siri how do you say “you’re wrong” in Dutch?

↳maxverstappen1: Wouldn’t know — never been wrong before?

↳maxverstappen1: You can tell her in French though

↳user24: unconscious and still able to cause mischief…

↳user24: i think i wanna be here when i grow up!

↳maxverstappen1: No

↳charles_leclerc: non

↳pierregasly: un seul suffit

↳logansargeant: there are so many better role models out there

↳oscarpiastri: please don’t

Taglist

@anamiad00msday @suns3treading @daniskywalkersolo @awritingtree @justheretoreadthxxs @coral7161 @lost4lyrics @mastermindbaby @freyathehuntress @angelluv16 @nichmeddar @mxm47max @voidvannie @justaf1girl

144 notes · View notes

skzdust · 2 days ago

Text

Take From Me, Leave Nothing Left

SMUT. MINORS DNI.

This fic was an anonymous request (here)! Thank you to the requester and I hope you all like it! I had so much fun writing it teehee

Title is from "Hypnosis" by Sleep Token!

Summary: You've been texting Seonghwa all day, and when he gets home, he's about to show you how mean he can be.

Pairing: Park Seonghwa x afab Reader

Includes: overstimulation, nipple play, vibrators, dildos, gagging, needy texting, creampie, pleaseeeee practice safe sex irl!

Word count: 1.7k

Taglist (Comment on a post/send an ask if you'd like to be added): @weirdowithaphone, @caught-in-the-afterglow, @palindrome969, @skzstan12345, @katsukis1wife,

@hyunjinsjeans, @somethingkindazainy, @silverstarburst, @atzlordz,

Network:@mirohs-aurora-society

Reblogs, likes, comments all appreciated!!!

Masterlist

-----

11:34am, Feb 02

You: Hiii Hwa Seonghwa 💕: Hello my love =) You: When are you going to be homeeeeee Seonghwa 💕: I have a full day my love Seonghwa 💕: There is much dancing to be done You: :( Seonghwa 💕: I’ll be home soon enough, I promise, darling You: You’d better Seonghwa 💕: xx

1:43pm, Feb 02

You: Can you hurry up with the dancing Seonghwa 💕: We’re dancing so fast, my love You: Please? Seonghwa 💕: Just be patient for a few more hours for me, doll You: Idk I really want your cock You: But I’ll try Seonghwa 💕: Good girl xx

3:57pm, Feb 02

You: Hwa, please, need you Seonghwa 💕: You NEED me? You: Yes, I do Seonghwa 💕: Patience is a virtue, doll You: Okay, but getting railed within an inch of my life is also a virtue Seonghwa 💕: That doesn’t make sense You: Please? Seonghwa 💕: I’ll be home soon, promise You: Okay, hurry back Seonghwa 💕: I’ll do my best, love

5:41pm, Feb 02

You: You going to be home soon? Seonghwa 💕: Wrapping things up now, shouldn’t be more than a few minutes! You: THANK GOD You: Was considering pulling out the vibrator Seonghwa 💕: Wow Seonghwa 💕: Didn’t know you were disobedient as well as needy. You: I’m not disobedient, you didn’t say anything about the vibrator :) You: What’s a girl to do when her man’s not here to fuck her? Seonghwa 💕: Just be ready for me when I’m home.

The door creaked open, and you practically jumped up from where you were sitting on the couch, scrolling through something on your phone. “Seonghwa!”

“Hi, baby.” He didn’t look at you, locking the door behind him and setting his bag down. “Someone’s been needy today, haven’t they?”

You swallowed, already hungry for whatever he had planned. “Yeah, I have.”

He still didn’t look at you, walking into the kitchen to get himself a glass of water. “Bothering me while I’m at work.”

“I’m sorry, Hwa.”

He laughed. “Don’t lie to me, you’re not sorry.”

“I just want you.” You mumbled.

“I know.” He took a sip, finally turning around to face you. “So you’re going to get me. You’re going to get a punishment.”

“A punishment?”

“Mhm.” He tilted his head a bit. “And it was a busy day for me, so I think I deserve someone— something— to take my stress out on, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, of course.” You breathed.

He smiled, that big grin like sunshine. “Perfect, then, baby.” He jerked his head towards the bedroom. “Go.”

You scrambled to stand up and get to the bedroom, getting your clothes off and thrown into a pile in the corner. You laid yourself out on the bed, your lingerie giving you the extra bit of confidence you needed to feel really sexy.

Seonghwa walked into the room like the wolf who knew he had the bunny cornered. You could feel your pulse quicken.

He smiled, all teeth. “Aw, look at you, all ready for me.”

“Yeah.” You sighed.

He leaned over you, tangling his fingers in the straps crisscrossing your chest, taking a moment to admire how they looked on your skin before he yanked towards himself, pulling you up off the bed. You struggled to get your hands under you. “Hwa!”

“Sir.” He said, looking at you darkly. “You know to address me as sir. Don’t make that mistake again.”

“Yes, sir.” You nodded quickly.

He let go, pushing you back onto the bed. “Hands and knees.”

You obeyed his command, getting yourself into position and looking over your shoulder.

“Fuck.” Seonghwa groaned. “So pretty.”

Your breath caught as he moved to the dresser, pulling out your collection of sex toys. He selected a big vibrator and walked back over. “You want this?”

“Yes, sir.”

He laughed, mumbling something to himself as he walked back over to you. He helped you take your lacy underwear off, throwing them aside with the rest of your clothes. You inhaled as you felt the vibrator touch your entrance. Seonghwa teased you with it for a little bit, then, without warning, shoved it inside.

Seonghwa was usually one for foreplay, teasing you till you were soaked, working you up slowly. Starting with just a finger before moving onto a bigger dildo, and then finally his cock. But it seemed today he was down to business as he switched the vibrator onto its highest setting and began to ruthlessly fuck you with it.

You made a sound that might’ve been a moan or a squeak or something in between, your arms shaking at the effort of keeping you up. Seonghwa kept on going, and he started talking. “You know, you talk a lot of game for someone who can barely stay in the position I’ve asked you to. You’d think that after all of your talk and neediness you’d be able to withstand a little more than one vibrator.”

“I can!” You moaned. “I can take it, sir.”

“Oh, can you?” He teased. “Can you take more?”

“Yes!”

He leaned over you and started to play with one of your nipples. “I’m gonna overstimulate you until you’re sobbing and begging me to stop, baby. And then I’m going to keep going.”

Your mouth dropped open in a long moan, and you arched back against him.

“Yeah? You like the sound of that?” His voice was almost soft.

“Yes.” You whined.

“Good girl.” He whispered, just loud enough to be heard over the buzzing of the vibrator.

His pace suddenly turned from fast to punishing, and his hand worked harder at your nipple, overwhelming you with stimulation. It wasn’t long until you were coming with a moan, your legs shaking.

He pulled the vibrator out and pushed you down onto your front before rolling you onto your back. His eyes surveyed your form. “Beautiful, but I need you looking a bit more debauched.”

You smiled, your mind in a bit of a post-orgasm haze. “How do you intend to do that?”

“I intend to fuck your face and your pussy at the same time.”

Your head tilted back with a groan. “Fuck, Seong-sir.” You caught yourself just in time.

He ignored your near slip-up but for a twitch of his lips. “Open your legs.”

You did., opening your mouth too.

“I would tell you you’re a good girl, but you’re just taking a punishment, so doing what’s expected of you doesn’t deserve all that much respect, wouldn’t you agree?”

Before you could respond, Seonghwa pushed the vibrator he’d just been fucking you with into your mouth, muffling a noise from you. The silicone had a strange, nearly bitter taste in your mouth, and you could taste yourself all over it. He repositioned himself, getting in a good place so he could start to fuck you with two fingers at the same time as he was fucking your face. Thankfully, he didn’t turn the vibrator on, but the act was dirty enough that your entire body felt like it was on fire. You shut your eyes, settling into the sensations.

He laughed, a low sound. “Fucking slut. Do you like that? Does that feel good to you?”

You nodded, moaning as he shallowly fucked your mouth.

“Of course it does.” He continued. “You would like being treated like this.”

This continued for a while, and then he went back to the drawer to retrieve more toys, this time a gag and an even bigger dildo.

He strapped the gag onto your face, pulling on it a few times to make sure it wasn’t going anywhere, and then began to fuck you with the dildo. “Look at you, taking it like a whore. That’s all you’re good for, isn’t it? My little fucktoy.”

You moaned as much as the gag would allow. You were starting to get overwhelmed, all of the sensations so potent. You could feel every nerve in your body so strongly, especially the ones between your legs.

You weren’t ready to start begging, yet. It was still on the positive side of strong, not quite edging into overstimulation just yet.

But it hit that point quickly when Seonghwa slid a couple of fingers in beside the dildo, stretching you even wider. You moaned a few times, pointing at the gag to show him you needed to tell him something. He paused for a moment to undo the straps.

“Sir, it’s— it’s so much— it’s too much.”

He studied your face for a moment before his mouth spread into a smile. “No, it’s not, not yet.”

You watched as he undid his belt and took off his pants and boxers, letting his cock free.

You let out a breath looking at it. Seonghwa still had to get off, and leave it to him to get you as sensitive as possible before doing so.

He lined himself up and smirked at you before pushing inside. “Fuck, slut, you’re so tight, you feel so good.”

He let both of you adjust for just a moment before starting to fuck you, his hips snapping back and forth into you. His mouth fell open as he fucked you, mumbling things in your ear. “You feel so good around me”, “such a good fucktoy”. You shivered and moaned with every degrading name and the sensations he gave you with them. He started playing with your nipples again, and your moans turned into whines. It was so overwhelming, you were so overstimulated, but it felt so good, he felt so good.

His thrusts became more erratic, more stuttering, and his hips pushed forward one last time as you felt an unmistakable warmth filling you. You loved it when he came inside, claimed you as his.

He fell limp, and you rolled onto your side, curling into him. His arms wrapped around you, and you thought if you didn’t have to, you’d never move.

But, of course, that wasn’t the case, and after a few moments Seonghwa gently kissed your hair. “Okay, baby, let’s get in the shower.”

“But ‘m cozy.” You grumbled.

“You’ll be even cozier once you’re clean.” He pulled out slowly, his cum spilling all over the sheets. “And we need clean sheets, too.”

“You’re right, you’re right.” You sighed.

“And then we can cuddle after.” He smiled.

“Yes please.” You smiled back. “Love you, Seonghwa.”

“Love you too, baby.”

#mirohsaurorasociety #skzdust writes #seonghwa #park seonghwa #seonghwa x reader #park seonghwa x reader #fic requests #ateez #ateez fic #ateez smut #seonghwa smut #ateez x reader

113 notes · View notes

minkieater · 2 days ago

Text

EIGHT FIRST DATES ꨄ︎

006 》 PARK SEONGHWA

maybe starting back at square one is what you needed. during a night out with two of your girlfriends you haven’t seen since your nights out at the frats, a particular bartender has perked your interest. before the question of will he accompany you at thanksgiving, will he let you have him so easily?

wc 21.7k i told y’all its getting juicy | smut minors dni, drinking, mentions of death, hwa’s situation is a lil fucked up

your bed was warm— warmer than usual, warmer than it should be. it felt comforting, relieving almost, you didn’t want to open your eyes and face the day, instead relish in the unending solace your bed was feeding you. you groaned, stretching your body out, half awake and eyes still shut, not expecting your arm to be stopped halfway in its reach.

your eyes fly open, adrenaline shooting through you. you don’t remember leaving with jisung, and who the hell else could be in your bed?

dark brown hair laid over his sleeping face, knotted and frizzed to oblivion, his face buried in one of your pillows. on his stomach, his arms were tucked underneath the pillow, face hidden behind his bicep, only a fraction of his face was visible to you. the last person you’d ever expected was asleep next to you, radiating over six feet of body heat. you can feel your heart pounding against your chest, racking your brain for any memory of the night before. you remembered being in the car, san carrying you inside, but after that was darkness— nothing.

you’d definitely gotten more drunk than intended, but this drunk? to wake up next to yunho? your hand comes up to clutch your chest, checking for clothes on your body— a big tee hung loose on your shoulders, but as you rubbed your legs together, they were bare, which means the possibility is there.

you erupted in flames, there’s no way.

“yunho.” you whisper yelled, but he didn’t so much as stir, muffled snores coming from his nose. you shook his shoulder once, twice, voice getting louder, “yunho!”

one of his eyes peeled open, looking at you for just a moment before his eyebrow curled up in question. his eyes slowly moved as he took in his surroundings, as realization set in– he didn’t seem as taken aback as you were.

“morning,” he grumbled as he untangled his arms from beneath your pillow, flopping onto his back. he stretched his arms behind his head and you watched as his chest puffed outward, the muscles in his biceps flexed, how his fingers scrunched to fists.

you swallowed, still whispering, “why are you in here? yunho, there’s no way we—”

he looked at you as if you had three heads, answering your question before you asked it, his neck snapping to the side and eyebrows hung so low above his eyes you felt stupid for even considering the fact you might’ve done something. a sound of amusement left his nose and his face softened, his voice deep and mangled with sleep as he said, “you were drunk and asked me to stay with you, i didn’t really have the option to say no. plus, i was kinda scared you’d choke if you got sick again or something.”

your cheeks flush again, the embarrassment growing worse. you bring your palm to your forehead, trying to rack your brain of events from the previous day, groaning. “i’m sorry, thank you for staying with me.”

he laughs, a deep chuckle, one you’d never heard before, “do you know how fucking insane you sleep? hitting me, throwing your entire body on top of me, i woke up at least four times.”

a smile grows on your face, some of the embarrassment washing away— he was being normal about it, you had no reason to not be. “good, you deserve it.”

“hey,” he warns, then yawns, speaking through it, “you said you were tired of being mad at me. no take backs.”

“i don’t remember saying it, so it doesn’t count,” you sit up in your bed, and your head pounds. you groan, palm returning to your forehead, a slew of curses flying from your mouth.

yunho audibly stretches again then sits up next to you, “let’s get you meds and food.”

you frown, “what if i just go back to sleep?”

“at least brush your teeth,” his nose scrunches up, “you got sick last night, like, all over the parking lot.”

your eyes nearly bulge out of your head and you gasp in shock, the remnants of your embarrassment showing in your flushed cheeks. “you didn’t at least flush my mouth out with mouth wash?”

he gives you a look that says are you kidding me?

“you’re right, you did more than enough. thank you for taking care of me,” you nod in defeat, tone genuine despite the humor laced behind your entire exchange so far. you take a second getting out of your bed, bones cracking as your legs bend over your mattress, you slept like shit.

while brushing your teeth, memories of yesterday flood your mind like flashbacks, going through the hours of the day from start to finish. you groan with a mouth full of toothpaste, hand coming to hit your forehead again, embarrassment washing over you again. from almost falling off of jisung’s shoulders to kissing him in front of everyone, you think maybe you should just pretend yesterday never happened.

when you come out of the bathroom, yunho is still in your bed, laying on his back, typing away on his phone. you pull on some sweatpants and turn to him, “are you cooking breakfast?”

his phone hits the bed, eyes pointed, “you should at least help.”

your lips pulled into a line, but you couldn’t argue. “fine.”

you followed behind yunho all the way down to your kitchen where vivi was sitting at the kitchen island, passing your mom and matt in the living room on the way there. they all mumbled different versions of good morning, your house smelling of freshly brewed coffee and whatever candle your mom had burning.

“morning vee,” yunho greets as he comes around the corner of the island, picking up her coffee mug from the granite. he takes a sip and grimaces, “needs more cream.”

“we don’t have any,” she complains, not batting an eye at yunho for stealing her drink, “only tiny’s oat milk.”

“hey,” you frown, “i need that, don’t waste it.”

“i’m not wasting it if i’m drinking it,” she bites back, then plants her palms on the counter to stand, slipping off of her chair.

“we’re about to make breakfast,” yunho says, and she stops in her movements, “you should stay and help, or laugh at tiny when she tries to cook.”

a smile spreads across vivi’s face, blue hair laying over her cheeks. she climbs back into the chair, setting her sweatshirt covered elbows down on the counter with her chin in her palms, “good thing you’re here yuyu, she’ll burn the whole fucking house down if she tries to cook on her own.”

“hey!” you plant your hands on your hips on the opposite side of the counter, “i am more than capable of making eggs and bacon.”

vivi raises her eyebrows in amusement, “yeah, okay.”

you let out a huff and make your way to the coffee machine, grabbing your mug from the cabinet above the machine, pouring yourself a full cup. after adding oat milk and taking three ibuprofen, you were ready to cook— behind your back, yunho had already begun laying out all the ingredients.

footsteps came slowly down the stairs, getting louder as they hit the platform and you know the others are awake. you turn to vivi, “when’s ace coming home?”

vivi doesn’t look up when she answers, “some time this morning, pretty sure.”

your lip lifts in dissatisfaction. you raise your voice, head turning in the direction of the living room, “mom, when’s ace coming home?”

“his location says he’s twenty minutes away, i don’t know if he’s dropping reia off,” your mom yells back from the living room, and san winces at the volume as he enters the kitchen.

yeosang follows behind through the threshold, san has a hand raised up to the side of his head. with a bare torso and sweatpants, he frowns, “it’s too damn early for you to be yelling.”

“i dare you to go say that to her,” you jutt your chin out in the direction of the living room, smirking at san. he rolls his eyes, but takes your challenge to your surprise.

“mom, it’s too damn early to be yelling,” san says just loud enough for her to hear.

“tiny yelled first!” your mom argues, completely dismissing san calling her mom— she’s used to it. you hear her footsteps before you see her as she makes her way into the kitchen, hair and makeup done already. “take some ibuprofen, i know you all got trashed yesterday.”

“tiny got the most trashed out of all of us,” yeosang defends himself, taking a seat next to vivi at the counter. in a white tee and basketball shorts, definitely clothes he keeps in the guest room dresser, he looked exhausted.

your mom stands at the entrance to the kitchen, taking in the sight of all of you. she looks you up and down, popping an eyebrow as she said, “i can tell.” she walks further into the kitchen, taking a seat at the table off to the side, “who drove?”

“yunho,” you answer, pointing in his direction with your thumb, then slid the bottle of ibuprofen across the island to the two boys. you didn’t even look at yourself when you brushed your teeth, too consumed with embarrassment from the day before— you couldn’t imagine what you looked like.

“good boy,” your mom smiles with affection in her lens-covered eyes, she loves yunho— every parent does. “how was it? did you see who you wanted to see?”

yunho turns on the stove, grabbing a pan from one of the cabinets beneath the kitchen island. he places dairy free butter on the pan as it heats up, and you grab for the eggs beside the stove.

“it was so good,” yeosang answers for you, turning around in his chair to face your mom, “we saw everyone we wanted to. tiny’s friends were really cool too— oh, guess what?”

your mom leans forward, “what?”

“i met a guy.”

you tune them out as you crack an egg over the heated pan, grateful yeosang took over the conversation. vivi watches you and yunho, her chin still in her palms, you had mere centimeters between yourself and the boy you slept next to. the thought brings heat to your cheeks and you crack the egg a little too hard, some of the shell falling into the pan.

“teens,” vivi whines, “it’s the first egg and you already fucked it up.”

“she’s gotta warm up,” yunho waves a hand in your sister’s direction, “let her cook.”

you fight a smile, tightening your lips as your eyes lead to vivi’s. she rolls hers in annoyance, “if i taste one shell in my eggs i’m suing you.”

“suing me?” you say a little louder, the nerve. “you’re so dramatic, make your own damn eggs.”

“yun, where did you sleep last night?” san asks from across the island, sat next to yeosang at the island. he’s leaned over the granite, cheek in his palm, looking half asleep. “your bed was basically untouched when we woke up.”

your eyes widen and your head snaps up to look at yunho, who’s quick to answer. “on the couch.”

your mom directs her attention to yunho, her head turning to squint in his direction. before san could get a word out, she interrupts, “i was down here at five and you weren’t on the couch.”

yunho’s eyes look at you for a split second before he sighs in defeat, he was too tired to lie his way out of this. you held your breath as he said, “i slept in tiny’s bed.”

the entire kitchen snapped to look at you and yunho with something between shock and confusion. too similar to a sitcom, all four of them in the same tone asked, “what?”

yunho shrugs, and as if he’s done it a million times before and it was no big deal, he says, “i was scared she’d get sick again.”

yeosang lifts a single eyebrow, “i think we should put a pin in this conversation until ace gets home.”

simultaneously, vivi lets out a loud chuckle as she says, “you got sick?! at a music festival?”

you scoff, “yes, i got sick— and what’s ace gonna do?”

vivi has a wicked smile on her face as she mumbles under her breath, “that’s so embarrassing…”

“i just feel like he should be here for the discussion of tiny and yunho sleeping together,” yeosang says and then turns to san, “don’t you think?”

san is staring at the two of you, still in complete surprise. you feel like maybe everyone is overreacting just a bit. yunho had taken over cooking the eggs long ago, you planted your hands on the counter beneath you and stared down your two friends. “first of all, don’t say it like that, you guys act like we’ve all never slept beside each other before. do you not remember all of our slumber parties in the basement? you only took over the guest room like, a year or two ago.”

“that’s different,” san counters, “that's all of us together.” he turns to yeosang, a grin growing on his cheeks, “i wonder what ace will say.”

you shake your head with a look of disgust on your face, then you turn to look up to yunho, “why are you so quiet? defend my honor here.”

yunho shrugs like he doesn't care at all, “they’ll stop once there’s food in front of them.” his nonchalance was going to be the death of you.

“yuyu, when will the food be ready?” vivi’s cheek is in her elbow now, laying on the countertop as if she’d fall asleep within minutes. “i’m so hungry i'm going to die.”

“i told you already,” you snap, “make your own damn eggs.”

vivi picks her head up, pointing her gaze at you, “you aren’t even doing anything! yunho’s cooking the eggs and the bacon!”

“vivi,” your mom warns from the kitchen table, she stands up and makes her way towards the island. “be nice to tiny or else yunho won’t give you any of the food he made.”

you look up to your mom who was wearing the craziest smirk. vivi snaps her neck, “what does that have to do with anything?”

your mom doesn’t answer, she simply shoots yunho a wink before walking back to the living room. she yells over her shoulder, “make sure you clean up!”

you slowly turn to look up at yunho, giving him a questioning look and mumble under your breath, “that was weird.”

“whatever, let’s eat,” he brushes you off, putting eggs and bacon onto plates. “damn, we should’ve made toast.”

“wait, i can do that!” you exclaim, whipping around your kitchen to grab the toaster from another cabinet and a loaf of bread from the pantry. this was easy— you couldn’t mess up toast. you steal a piece of bacon from the serving plate, keeping it hanging out of your mouth as you put bread in the toaster, turning it on.

you hear the front door open and everyone’s head turns. ace’s groggy voice calls from the foyer, “i’m home!”

“we’re in here,” you call back, eyes back on the toaster, awaiting your toast to pop from the silver appliance.

ace and reia make their way into the kitchen and yunho is back behind the stove, heating the pan once again, “you guys hungry?”

“yes, please,” reia smiles, standing around the island. ace kisses her cheek before moving around the countertop, stealing a piece of bacon from san’s plate and eating half the strip in a singular bite.

the toaster pops and you pull out two slices of bread, throwing them down at the two boys at the end of the island. you pop in two new pieces of bread and push down on the lever, then ask your twin and his girlfriend, “how was your weekend?”

“so good,” reia gushes, leaning onto the counter now, her elbows on the granite. “we had a gorgeous cabin, a hot tub on the balcony, it even snowed.”

“damn, how far away were you?” san asked, biting into a piece of bacon, his mouth already full. “it wasn’t even close to cold enough for snow here.”

“like three hours away,” ace answers, “long ass drive, it only flurried, didn’t stick or anything. how was the music festival?”

“don’t even ask,” you put a hand up, “save me the embarrassment, i beg you.”

ace smiles, “did you at least get to see jungle?”

“yes!” you exclaim, the thought bringing a smile to your face that matched his exactly. “it was incredible.”

“wanna know something?” yeosang turned to ace, a cocky smile on his face, only turning to you for a split second to smirk before he brought his attention back to ace. your twin nodded, mindlessly chewing on a piece of vivi’s bacon that he’d stolen while she was checking her phone. “tiny and yunho slept together last night.”

“gross,” ace grimaced, then looked up to yunho, eyebrows raised in a way you couldn’t place, unusual for the person you shared DNA with.

“finally,” reia answered simultaneously, a smile spreading across her face. the kitchen went silent, six heads staring up at reia, all wearing different expressions. you didn’t have time to read every one before you were doing damage control.

“finally?” you ask, eyebrows twisted in confusion, face wearing something between shock and disgust. you whined, “why’d you say it like that, yeo? we slept next to each other.”

reia’s posture shrank, her lips pursing, she quickly looked away from you and to ace instead, probably for him to do his own damage control for what she just said. you put your hands on your hips, “you’ve never been silent once in your lives, speak. what do you mean by "finally?”

reia stumbles over her words and ace cuts her off with a nonchalance he’s been practicing for twenty years, “finally as in you’ve been looking for a boyfriend for almost six weeks now, and we all know yunho’s a keeper.”

yeosang and san nod in agreement, san even using his thumb to point in ace’s direction with a mouth full of eggs. you scoff, “if i was that desperate, i’d just bring yeosang.”

yeosang fist pumps the air, “i’m special.”

“definitely special,” you mumble under your breath as more toast pops from the toaster, and you keep a piece for yourself before handing out the other.

“are you gonna call mingyu today?” san asks from the end of the island and your head snaps up, staring at him in surprise. you must’ve said something about it last night.

“why the hell would she do that?” ace asks, upper lip lifted in disapproval. “don’t do that.”

“she talked about it last night,” san shrugs, “she was crying in the car like, ‘i miss him, jisung was nothing like him.’ i was just wondering.”

ace sucks a breath in and your face flushes, out of embarrassment and guilt towards jisung. you hoped he didn’t know how you felt, you had a great time with him, he didn’t deserve to feel a fraction of sadness because of you.

“moment of weakness,” was your answer, reality seeming to wash over you again. that’s right, that was your whole intention behind yesterday– getting drunk, forgetting about mingyu, getting better. except what happened was the exact opposite. “no, i won’t call him.”

“good,” yunho answered with a heavy hand on your shoulder, “no more getting drunk to forget about him, either.”

you looked up to him with a weak smile, “will do.”

────── ꨄ︎

you hadn’t seen any of your girl friends in ages. the last time you went out together was months ago, a weekend at the frats that you barely remembered, time that you barely spent together. you’d brought the boys along that night, you spent half the time getting a handle on them and the other half up in heeseung’s bedroom– you were overdue for a night out, and actually spending it with the girls this time around.

giselle and julie, two girls you’d met your freshman year of college, you were in the same pre-rec classes. you got together well, but you were never super close– you had your hands full with your boys, maybe that was your fault. to make matters worse, maybe vivi had a point when she said the only girls you hangout with are your cousins, you had to prove her wrong, the sixteen year old can not and will never be correct.

sat around a table at a bar near campus, the two girls were talking your ear off, asking you for a list of life updates. julie’s smile reached ear to ear as she sipped her fruity drink, “there has to be a guy, it’s been months!”

“there’s been,” you lifted your hand, counting on your fingers– hyunjin, chan, mingyu, jisung… “four guys, actually.”

“what?” they exclaim simultaneously. giselle continues, “four? and we heard about none of them?”

she’s right– and to think a few weeks ago you ached to talk to a girl who didn’t know anything about mingyu, an unbiased opinion, to hear you out. you had two girls sitting right in front of you that you could have talked to the entire time, could have spilled every detail and every emotion to. you physically relaxed, shoulders dropping, your jaw unclenched. you missed them.

“the first one was hyunjin,” you began, and the entire story unraveled. you told them everything– you didn’t need to hold anything back. from the lie you told to your cousins to the age gap between you and mingyu to almost falling off of jisung’s shoulders– they heard every detail.

“so, hyunjin was an asshole, chan is still your friend, mingyu is the love of your life, jisung was a rebound situation,” giselle pondered after you finished, twirling her straw in her drink. “who the hell even are you?”

“what happened to our baby who barely looks at anyone other than heeseung?” julie teases, and giselle giggles at her question.

“heeseung was never anything serious and you two know that better than anyone,” you shake your head, “he just wanted to fuck, and i just wanted to fuck him.”

“i always thought there was more there,” giselle counters with a shrug, “i can’t believe yunho slept with you.”

“and the way–” julie forces a repulsed shake throughout her entire body, “–ace’s girlfriend said finally? what the hell does that mean?”

“you need to get over that, jules,” giselle comments, “he’s literally her brother.”

“every time i look at her i’m reminded of him, it’s not my fault!” julie puts her hands up in defense then brings her eyes to you, “back to the real problem here, please, yunho and the word ‘finally’?”

“i agree, the finally thing was weird, but ace said it was just because yunho’s a keeper and if it came down to him being my boyfriend– oh.”

“oh?” the two girls ask.

“that motherfucker was lying,” you gasp, looking at them with wide eyes. “that finally totally meant something else.”

“in what way?” julie asks.

“in a they’re rooting for you and yunho kind of way?” giselle leans closer, holding her glass between both hands. “he is hot, and he’s tall as fuck. what school does he go to again?”

you cringe, “ew, ew ew ew, i can’t think about him that way. before all of this, ace even suggested that i choose yunho, san or yeosang, but i think he was just saying it so i’d get our cousins off my back– i don’t think he realized that i actually wanted a boyfriend out of this. maybe i didn’t either when i first did all of this.”

“so ace is rooting for you and yunho and reia’s heard all about it,” julie says in a matter-of-fact kind of way, like she’s putting together puzzle pieces.

“plus, vivi was being a bitch to me the other morning when we were making breakfast and my mom said that yunho wouldn’t give her any food if she was mean to me,” you raise your eyebrows, as if you were putting together puzzle pieces now, too.

“so ace and your mom are rooting for yunho,” giselle gasps, then her and julie share a look.

you bring your surfside up to your lips as giselle asks, “well, how has yunho been during this whole dating situation? has he been supportive?”

you tilt your head, “at first, i mean, he drove me to my date with hyunjin, but once mingyu came around it was like a total 180– he was not happy about mingyu. then he was supportive again with jisung.”

“mingyu seems to be the only one that would’ve really worked,” giselle lifts her brows, sitting back in her chair. “i’m realizing things that i’m not sure should be realized.”

you bring a palm to your forehead, sighing. “we should get drunk.”

“hammered,” julie agrees, setting her now empty glass down in front of you, giselle following suit.

“i’ll get us another round,” you say and hop up from your chair, taking a deep breath.

this is all too much– you have never looked at yunho like that in your life, not even when you were in high school and in your horny phase, with a crush on anything that walked and had a heartbeat. you’d be damned if you talked yourself into it now, not even knowing if yunho felt the same way. it made sense, but it made so much sense that you felt that it had to be planned, set up– made to convince you. you weren’t sure if you were even making sense at this point– all you knew was that you and yunho would never happen.

you were going to drive yourself insane.

as you made your way up to the bar, it was busier than when you got here. familiar faces surrounded you, being so close to campus, but none that you’d actually say hello to. you found one spot open as if it was meant for you to take, and you stood with your upper half slightly leaned over the luster deep oak, hopefully so the bartender would notice you.

the bartender… you knew him from somewhere. dark as onyx, straight hair that touched his strong looking shoulders, a slender figure, sharp jaw and curved nose that was nothing short of stunning– is he really just a bartender with a face like that? you really hoped he’d notice you, and not just for drinks. you wish you styled your hair neater this morning, applied your makeup with more care, you didn’t think you’d be scouting tonight on top of getting drinks with friends.

“what can i get for you?” he asked, flashing you a blinding white smile, a set of perfect teeth on his perfect face. his eyes were as dark as his hair, skin a deep golden, almost reflective with the heat he was no doubt feeling behind the busy bar.

you stuttered as you told him your drink orders for the table, internally smacking yourself for the mishap. as he cracked your can, you watched his fingers grip the bar key with practiced movements– it triggered your memory. you lifted a brow, “by chance, were you working the music festival across the city this past weekend?”

“i was, yeah,” he said with a small chuckle, handing three drinks to you. “here you go.”

“thank you, i knew i recognized you from somewhere,” you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear with a smile, “funny you work so close to my campus.”

“campus? should i be ID’ing you again?” he wore a lazy smirk, standing with his weight shifted onto his right leg.

“no, i’m a senior,” you waved your hand, “no need.”

“tab?” he asks, already making his way back to the computer.

“han,” you call after him, “han julie, i think it’s under.”

internally you slam your fist against the bar… han julie is so close to han jisung. you set it up with chan earlier today in class to meet with jisung tomorrow, you needed to get your jacket back, but you also needed to tell jisung it wasn’t going to work out– if he even thought it would after you left in such a mortifying way. impending doom loomed over you.

seonghwa shoots you a thumbs up without looking back at you and you scurry back to the table with heat on your cheeks. as you sit down, you immediately spill, “that bartender worked the music festival last weekend, isn’t he hot?”

“seonghwa?” julie pops a brow, “he’s been working here since before we started coming here.”

“i’ve never been here, i had no idea,” you answer, immediately taking a sip from your can.

“as regulars of this establishment, we still know absolutely nothing about him,” giselle says with her lips pursed, making you giggle. she continues, “the other bartender though, belle? we know all the drama,” she smirks.

“there’s bartender drama?” you question, getting more comfortable in your seat. the music is louder now as people start to file in, for a wednesday you didn’t think it’d get busy– you supposed in a college town any night was like a friday.

“of course there’s bartender drama– you see that guy over there? shaggy brown hair, red shirt, big lips, super cute,” julie points to the end of the bar, “that’s jake, they’re hooking up, have been for a few months now. see the guy next to him?” you nod and julie giggles, “sunghoon, also hooking up with belle. they’re friends, have no idea they’re both sleeping with her.”

you gasp, “how do you pull off something like that?”

“belle is a bitch,” giselle shrugs, “neither of them get special treatment. easy.”

a hand comes over your mouth as you laugh harder, “how do you know that?”

“see that other guy sitting at the table over there? yellow beanie, hoodie, jeans. that’s jungwon, he knows everything, is friends with both of them, but doesn’t tell them. he told us, though,” julie laughs and giselle high fives her, both of them erupting into a fit of giggles.

“you were not kidding about being regulars here,” you say through a breath, “aren’t they in the same frat as heeseung?”

“yes,” julie nods, “but hee never comes here, don’t worry.”

“i’m not worried,” you shake your head, “i am curious about seonghwa, though. you guys really know nothing about him?”

julie leans into the table, leaning her chin on her palm, “he’s more closed off, doesn’t fraternize with the girls who throw themselves at him. keeps to himself, doesn’t get into the usual local bar drama.”

you suck your bottom lip between your teeth, contemplating. he’s gorgeous, not one for drama, keeps to himself… you could get behind that, put all your worries behind you– how is the question.

“don’t tell me you’re thinking of making him,” giselle pauses, counting on her fingers like you had earlier, “man number five.”

“why not?” you say with a smile, “he might fix me.”

“girl, you don’t need to be fixed,” julie counters, “investigate the yunho situation.”

“i will be forgetting the yunho situation from here on out, actually,” you say, then take a sip of your surfside. an idea comes to mind, and with a wicked smile on your face, you ask the two girls, “does anyone want a shot?”

“jesus, who even are you anymore?” giselle asks jokingly, a smile growing on her face. she points her index finger in the air, “yes to the shot, though.”

her question sits with you as you walk back to the bar– you supposed you were different now, after all of this, experience changes a person. you should’ve kept in closer contact with them, kept them up to date on your life– you wondered if they’d like chan’s friends, too…

“you’re back,” seonghwa says as soon as your ribs hit the bar, perfect teeth hidden by a tight smile of plump pink lips, “something wrong?”

“not at all,” your cheeks flush, for some reason you can’t scrounge up a hint of confidence with him. he’s intimidating, not at all soft, or open– even if you wanted to crack that wall he put up, you couldn’t find it in you to try. “can i get three shots of tito’s?”

seonghwa nods and grabs a bottle of ketel one from beneath him, then lays out three shot glasses. your brows furrow– did he hear you correctly?

“um, i’m sorry, i meant tito’s–”

“i heard you,” he doesn’t look up as he pours the clear liquid into three glasses, then slides them your way. “on me.”

you cock your head to the side, it’s like he was feeding you an opportunity. “then can i have another round on me? and an extra for you.”

his smile grows, “you want to buy me a shot?”

“if you’ll let me,” you nod, trying hard not to bat your eyelashes at him. you didn’t want to be like the others, one flip of your hair and expecting to get your way– even if that’s what you were used to. if you were going to get him, it needed to be in a way that was appealing to him. a challenge.

you call the other two girls over, taking your first round of shots with sour faces and deep exhales to get the taste out of your mouths so you can stomach another. seonghwa clinks his shot glass with the three of you, saying cheers as the glasses hit the bar again before you shoot them back. verbal exhales and sour faces again, seonghwa was the only one unaffected– you pulled your card out of your mini purse that was slung over your shoulder, “put the shots on this one, please.”

“yes ma’am, thank you very much,” he nods, walking over to the computer again. “don’t go anywhere,” he calls after you, and you pause your turn back to the table, staying at the bar instead. the girls shoot you surprised looks over their shoulders as they scurry back off to the table, and you give them the same look back– it couldn’t have been that easy, right?

he returns with your card and two receipts, “you didn’t say leave it open.”

ah– no, not that easy, you’d have to work harder than that. an airy giggle leaves your throat as you pull out your phone’s calculator, and he picks your brain. “what’s so funny?”

you look up after leaving a hefty tip and signing your name, “nothing, just thought you were keeping me here for another reason.”

he lifts a brow, “another reason, like what?”

you suck on your bottom lip– it was now or never. “maybe to ask for my number or something, i don’t know.”

a sound of amusement leaves his lips and he looks down for a moment, it hits you right in the gut. you lift a brow as you slip your card back into your purse, “what’s so funny?”

“i know those two girls, they must’ve told you i don’t fuck around with people who come to the bar, right?” he lifts his eyebrows, using his chin to point in the direction of your two friends who sat back down at your table.

“they did,” you nod, the alcohol buzzing through you must have made every ounce of confidence return to you as you asked, “did you notice it was my first time here?”

seonghwa nods. you keep your gaze on him, so straight faced as you answered you couldn’t believe it came from your lips, “then i’ll gladly never return if it means you’ll fuck around with me.”

his lips curve upward, “that’s a new one. i’ll think about it.”

you let the smile through as you turn on your heel, you’ll take that– it feels like progress, even if it was his way of getting you away from the bar. when you sat back at the table you kept your body language nonchalant just in case he watched you from behind the bar, he didn’t need to see you squealing to your two friends like a teenager, even if you were fighting for your life to keep your voice down.

as you put your phone down on the table, you noticed notifications filling your screen– you were quick to unlock it and read.

👨‍👨‍👦‍👦 (and tiny)

9:34 pm

yeo: helloooo what are we doing yeo: are we doing anything tn??

twin: im w reia

sannie: my boyyyy sannie: back in shawty’s good graces

yunho: thanks to me

twin: i’d like to think i had a hand in it as well idk

yeo: mainly thanks to yunho tho yeo: he’ll prolly plan ur engagement

you giggle to yourself, and type back.

you: nah that's prob where i come in you: im at the bar by campus w giselle and julie you: im free after if someone wanna shcoop me

yeo: oh bruh ur drinking again yeo: on a WEDNESDAY

sannie: no crying or getting sick this time pls

you: no im being casual and normal tn you: bouta get my claws on someone new you: imagine me laughing all evil rn

yeo: oop

sannie: oh

you: wish me luck ladies !!!

yunho: good luck be safe yunho: let us know when to pick you up

you loved the message and put your phone down, then shake it off as ease rushes over you. if yunho was seriously into you, he wouldn’t have interacted with that message at all.

“who was that?” julie asks, sipping from her straw.

“the boys,” you say with a wave of your hand, “they asked what we’re doing tonight.”

“did you tell them to come here?” julie’s face lights up, eyes bright and eyebrows high, hope clear in her expression.

“ace is with reia, sorry jules,” you frown, shaking the liquid around in your can. she immediately pouts. “they’ll pick me up later.”

you look out onto the small dance floor where people have already begun occupying the space, dancing along to whatever pop song played through the speakers. with warmth flooding through you from the shots, the idea seemed almost appealing. you popped a brow as you looked at your two friends, who were already following your idea.

you follow behind a head of pink hair as the head of black hair leads the way, the three of you falling into a triangle in the middle of the tiny dance floor. the group of you are all giggles and shitty dance moves, more swaying your hips than anything, heads thrown back in laughter and more than a drop of liquor fallen to the ground. it reminded you of the frats, being covered in a sheen of sweat in a dark living room, red solo cups in everyone's hands, the room so loud and hot it didn't take long before it started spinning. for a moment, you forgot why you stopped going– you almost missed it.

“this makes me miss ENA,” you pout as you look at the other two girls, “are they still throwing?”

“i don’t think they’ll ever stop throwing,” julie laughs, sipping her drink, swaying her hips. she stops dead in her tracks to give you a look, “does this mean you want to go?”

“you haven’t stepped foot into ENA since you and heeseung…” giselle turns her head slightly as she stares you down, furrowing her eyebrows.

“i know, i know,” you shake your head, “i don’t know, all that talk about the members tonight just has me thinking about it, i guess, and i haven’t seen you guys since our last night there.” you look over their heads, jake and sunghoon still sat at the bar then to jungwon in the corner, you let out a sarcastic laugh. “unity my ass.”

“i’m not against it,” julie shakes her head, “i’ve had my eye on sunghoon for a minute, i’ll make him forget all about belle.”

you throw your head back in laughter, “we’ll go soon, then.”

when you make it back to your table, your surfside wasn’t quenching your thirst in the way you needed it to. your legs were tired, you had loads of homework to do tomorrow, plus you missed your bed. before you sat down, you said, “i’m gonna go get water, then i think i’m gonna have the boys come get me.”

“boo,” julie frowns, throwing a thumbs down in your direction. you smile, you did that same exact thing to yunho at the music festival.

“i’m sorry,” you say in the same tone, “i’m tired.”

you scurry off to the bar and seonghwa was even quicker to approach you this time. “more shots?”

“water, actually,” you nod, putting your elbow onto the bar, propping your chin on your palm.

“dancing got you all tired out, huh?” he smirks as he scoops glass into a cup, pouring water from the soda gun.

“you were watching?” you quirked a brow, taking the cup from his hand, muttering a thank you after you took a sip.

“it might’ve caught my eye,” he shrugs, “you leaving?”

“hope you enjoyed the show, then,” you smile, and a singular bat of your eyelashes cuts through your defenses. can’t win them all. “yeah, about to get picked up.”

“boyfriend coming to get you?” he asks, and he looks entirely serious when the words leave his lips. your top lip lifts in disgust as your eyebrows furrow.

“have any of our interactions tonight made it seem like i have a boyfriend?” you bite, words unintentionally sharp. that was a stupid question on his part, even more so when you think of who’s picking you up.

he simply shrugs and leans his arms against the bar, the muscles in his bare biceps tensing all the way up to his shoulders, pecs pushing against the cotton of his black tank top. you fight to not salivate. “who knows.”

“i have half a mind to be offended right now,” you stand straight, propping a foot up on the step of the bar. “do you accuse every girl who flirts with you of cheating?”

“not typically,” his entire demeanor bleeds not giving a fuck, “just can’t imagine a pretty girl like you is single.”

“oh,” the word is weak as it slips from your lips, cheeks flushing again. “well, i am, and if you have any ideas on changing that i'll be here for another…” you look down to the nonexistent watch on your wrist, “...twenty minutes.”

he chuckles, a genuine one, and you feel like you’ve won. “i don’t have time to date, if i did, i’d be like belle here.”

belle passes behind him as he says the words and a brow quirks on her face, but she doesn’t say anything. that wouldn’t have made any sense to you if giselle and julie hadn’t given you the run down. you smile and counter, “i’m flexible.”

“i’m not,” he says, and then he turns on his heel, giving you one more sentence over his shoulder before helping another patron. “hope to see you again, though.”

you stood dumbfounded for a moment before you were back off to your table, texting the boys to come pick you up immediately. rejection hurts no matter who it is, but to work up to something all night and have it pulled from beneath you is criminal. frustration sits on your face until your boys are outside to pick you up.

after bidding the two girls goodbye with kisses on their cheeks and leaving a wad of cash on the table to pay for your part of the bill– and then some, probably, you didn’t count– you were in yunho’s car, ranting up a storm as soon as the backseat door snapped shut.

“i’m not?!” you exclaim, you were sure you looked like a toddler throwing a tantrum. “that’s ridiculous.”

all three boys are wearing small smiles, amused by your rage. your eye twitches. “what is so fucking funny?”

“it’s wildly entertaining when you don’t get what you want,” san says, trying not to break out in a full laughter. “when it’s anger and not crying, specifically. a crying tiny makes me want to commit the rumbling.”

you pause, looking at san for a moment before your lip lifts upward, you couldn’t hold in the full laughter that erupts from you. after that the entire car is consumed in laughter at san’s statement, and just like that, all your anger is forgotten. what else are these three losers for?

────── ꨄ︎

thursday had you weak. after getting drunk the previous night plus classes all morning, you were running around campus, under the dark looming cloud of jisung and what you had to do in a few minutes. you guessed you just had to feel him out, maybe he’d take it really casually, hopefully he didn’t even want anything further with you. hopefully he really meant lets just have fun.

on the way to the coffee shop on campus, the one you hung out at with chan not that long ago, you ran every single scenario through your head. what you’d say, what he’d say, if he’d take it well, if he didn’t, you quickly realized you didn’t know jisung very well. getting hammered with someone, sitting on their shoulders and mindlessly making out with them numerous times does not make for getting to know someone well. it was fun, though– until it wasn’t.

if under different circumstances, that could’ve been one of the best nights of your life, and it very well still might be if this conversation goes well and you can let go of your embarrassment.

with all intentions of ripping off the bandaid, no time to waste, you rip open the door to the coffee shop and rush inside, your adrenaline quickly fading at the sheer volume inside the coffee shop. or, you should say, lack of volume.

you weren’t sure if all eyes were on you or if you made that up as you look around, avoidant of all eyes until you see the ones you came here for, chocolate and covered in big, thin frames. a smile spreads across your face as you walk toward the mop of curly hair just sticking out of a booth, slipping in the leather seat across from him.

“hey,” his smile is shy, nervous. your jacket is folded neatly beside him, two cups of coffee in front of him. “i wasn’t sure what you like, so i got you an iced americano.”

“oh my god, jisung, you didn’t have to get me anything,” you say, shaking your head, but the smile hasn’t left your face. “thank you so much.”

“no problem, i have your jacket, too,” his own smile grows as you take a sip of the coffee, no trace of discontent on your face. “are you feeling better?”

“so, so much better,” embarrassment creeps up on you, “i’m so sorry for leaving how i did.”

“it’s totally okay, i hope it wasn’t anything i did?” one side of his face scrunches, and you want to pinch his full cheeks.

“no!” you exclaim, probably a little too loud. you quiet your voice, “it had nothing to do with you, it was self sabotage, really. i had such a good time with you, i wish it was under different circumstances. i know that doesn’t make sense.”

“i feel like i kinda put the pieces together,” he purses his lips, fingers wrapping around his coffee cup, and you know that means please explain.

you sigh, “i’m gonna preface by apologizing, i’m sorry if this is shitty, but it’s true. i was seeing this guy and i ended things with him, but it wasn’t on good terms. i figured getting drunk at a music festival would be my best bet to forget all about it, to make myself feel better, but clearly that wasn’t very smart.”

jisung lifts a brow, “so the older guy that chan told me you were seeing…”

you cringe, “yeah, that would be him. that wasn’t smart of me, either.”

jisung nods, “i understand. you knew i was interested in you though, right?”

“yeah,” you breathe, “chan told me.”

jisung sits back into the booth, his lips pursed again in thought. you bite your lip in the silence, waiting for him to say something. “hold on, i just want to make sure i’m understanding. you knew i was interested in you, and you came onto me, knowing that your heart was broken already and it wasn’t going anywhere.”

you deflate, guilt rising in your throat like bile. your head drops forward, “again, jisung i am so sorry, i know it’s so unfair to you. if there’s anything i can do-”

“i still like you,” he says simply, “which is stupid, but i do. i had a really good time with you on saturday and i thought we clicked really well, was that the alcohol? were you faking? just doing what you had to do to get over some other guy?”

you stare at him, eyes widening, stumbling over your words. “what- no, jisung, i wasn’t faking it, i did have a really good time with you.”

“you didn’t even ask chan for my number,” he argues, folding his arms over his chest. “i know i sound like a brat right now, but i genuinely feel kind of played. used, even.”

“jisung, i thought you at least had a semblance of what was going on… you said let’s just have fun,” your voice was weak, nearly trembling as guilt and embarrassment made a carbonated cocktail in your gut.

“you think i agreed to be a rebound?” he raises his eyebrows and they sit higher than the frames of his glasses. “who in their right mind would agree to that?”

you let out a breath of defeat. “jisung, i am so sorry, genuinely. you’re right, it was a shitty thing for me to do. if there’s anything i can do to fix it, please tell me.”

“there’s nothing to do, i’m just sad, yanno?” his mouth stretches to one side, “all of our friends got along, it sounds stupid but i felt like i was looking into the future with just that one night.”

that had tears welling in your eyes, but you kept them there. for the sake of your pride and not wanting to come off as manipulative– what the hell else could go wrong for you?

“it doesn’t sound stupid,” you sigh, “and thank you for being so honest with me. i am so, so genuinely sorry for making you feel used and played, that was not my intention. can i tell you something?”

he nods, then picks up his coffee to take a sip. you clasp your hands together atop the table and take a breath, “the tall one, yunho, told me that i should be twenty two and just live, to do whatever i want because i almost started dating a thirty year old. i was being selfish, the only thing i was thinking about was me and what i wanted, i wasn’t thinking about anyone else.”

“this isn’t me making excuses, or defending myself in any way, but i haven't been dating for long, like barely six weeks, and i’m trying to navigate the whole idea of it. who i want, what i want, how i should act, what i should do– saturday isn’t how i’d normally act, i’ve never made out with someone i just met that day, i’ve never acted like that in front of so many people. i am so, so sorry you got that side of me, jisung. i am still learning, and i know at my big age that’s something i should know already, but unfortunately it’s not and you got hurt because of it.”

you take a deep breath, “i know it’s not fair to you, and it’s wrong that i hurt you, i am not making excuses for myself. again i am so sorry, but thank you for telling me, for your honesty. you’re teaching me with this conversation.”

jisung stares at you for a moment, before his lips twitch upward ever so slightly. “my first impression of you was that you were hot and untouchable, for some reason i feel a lot better after hearing all of that.”

you stare back in shock, completely taken aback for a moment until a sound of amusement rips from your chest. “what the hell does that mean?”

jisung giggles, “you’re just like me, you loser.”

“loser?” you gasp, “i am not a loser. go back to being mad at me immediately.”

he takes another sip from his coffee, “thank you for apologizing, and owning up to all of that. this dating shit is not for the weak, i can understand where you’re coming from. does this mean i get a second shot?” you open your mouth to speak, but he interrupts, laying a hand on your jacket. “before you answer, i can hold this jacket hostage easily.”

“i’ll make a deal with you,” you smile, “if i get my shit together and learn how to act right, then it’s me who will get a second shot with you. no need to hold my baby hostage.”

he nods, “i’m not mad at that deal, but only come crawling back if you learned a lesson or two.”

“maybe even three,” you nod, “are we okay?”

“more than okay, tiny. next music festival we go to, you’re back on my shoulders again.”

your cheeks flush at the nickname, “no place i’d rather be.”

after a few more minutes of conversation and an awkward goodbye, you left the coffee shop with an iced americano and your jacket in tow. you pull your phone from your pocket, a few unread messages on the screen, the first one catching your eye.

4:06 pm unknown: is this who i think it is lol

you raise an eyebrow at the screen as you sip your drink, immediately responding.

you: um idk you texted me dawg you: who is this

your walk back to the parking lot was slower than usual, your adrenaline was long gone, you were sure the conversation you just had only aided in making you slower. when you sat in the driver's seat of your car, the number still hadn’t responded, so you checked your other messages.

3:12 pm yeo: want ramen yeo: craving ramen bad rn

you audibly say fuck to an empty car, if you’d gotten to answer just an hour earlier...

you: YES you: am i too late you: pls tell me u didnt get already

you stare at your phone, waiting on an answer, tapping your foot along the floor of your car.

yeo: got u spicy miso yeo: and extra egg yeo: u should be home by now

you: i love u soooooo hard you: ill kiss u you: omw you: han jisung just read me for FILTH

you turned your car on and booked it out of the parking lot, forgetting all about the unknown number that texted you. the drive was quick, jungle playing through your speakers from start to end, your driveway filled with cars belonging to your friends. you saw ace’s closest to the garage, and reia’s parked right beside him– do any of these people ever have class?

“i’m home, give me my ramen immediately,” you say as you walk through the door, kicking your shoes off in the foyer.

“hi to you too, teens,” matt answers from the living room, and you look up, everyone was sitting on the couches— matt, your mom, yeosang, ace, reia, yunho, san and vivi.

“jesus christ,” you say, horrified at the literal army staring at you, “didn’t realize i had such an audience, were all of you waiting for little ol’ me?”

ace snorts, digging his hand into the bag of chips between him and his girlfriend, “we’re watching episodes of america's funniest home videos on youtube.”

“oh my god, pause it?” you yell, sprinting through the hallway to get your hopefully hot ramen from the kitchen. in all its glory, your ramen was still hot, in the middle of the island in a red to-go container, chopsticks still untouched laid on top of the lid.

“how was class honey?” your mom asks from the living room as you damn near ripped the chopsticks apart and flung the lid off the top of the bowl.

“class was class,” you answer as you sip your broth, making sure the temperature was just right. you smiled in delight, it's perfect. “got my jacket back, han jisung ripped me a new asshole, though.”

“what the hell does that mean? who’s han jisung?” your mom asks as you made it to the living room, her expression was nothing short of horrified.

you chuckled at her expression as you neared the couch, “chan’s friend, he basically said i was fucked up and the worst person to ever exist for playing him and using him at the music fest.”

“what?” san asked, a bewildered expression on his face. “all you did was kiss the guy, that’s an insane accusation.”

you shrug, facing the couch. “i kinda get it, i didn’t ask for his number or anything, i just kissed him a bunch and let him buy me drinks, then i didn’t speak to him again until i needed my jacket back.”

you look at the seating arrangements on the couch and blink twice, silently telling the eight of them to make room on the massive sectional. matt interrupts and your shoulders tense, “that doesn’t sound like you, tiny.”

vivi moved to the end of the chaise and san pivoted to the corner, leaving space between himself and yunho. you ignored the feeling in your stomach as you sat between the two, “how would you know, matt?”

he sighs as you pull your legs under you, mixing your noodles around in the bowl. “i know you, whether you want to admit it or not, and playing around with some random guy’s feelings doesn’t sound like you at all. what happened to that nice guy? mingi?”

“mingyu,” you correct him, “he just didn’t work out, and it wasn’t my intention to play with his feelings, i was just taking yunho’s advice.”

“let’s not throw me under the bus, all i said was that you shouldn’t date a thirty year old because you’re still young and inexperienced,” yunho defends himself from beside you, and you smirk in response because you totally did just throw him under the bus.

“yunho,” your mom whines, “we liked him, he was great!”

“yeah, but what if tiny was engaged in six months? at twenty two years old? would we all be team mingyu then?” ace counters, “yunho did teens a favor if you ask me.”

“no one is asking you,” you grumble, then take a massive bite of your ramen, shoveling it in your mouth. that iced americano did nothing to curb your hunger.

“tiny, i don’t think you should be dating anymore,” matt shakes his head, speaking in his best parent voice, and you point your gaze at him from across the couch, shooting daggers with a mouth full of ramen. “it’s clearly bringing nothing good to your life, you can tell your cousins that you and your ‘boyfriend’ broke up.”

“that’s like, the worst thing she could do,” vivi speaks up from the end of the couch, “karina and sakura will have a field day with that information, she’d never hear the end of it.”

you give vivi an appreciative look the best you could with a mouth full of noodles, you think that’s the first time that’s ever happened.

“you’re going to end up with irreparable damage done to you, like an STD, or something worse,” matt says, flailing his hands around as he speaks. your irritation grows as if it was being shot directly into your bloodstream.

you finally swallow your noodles, “do you think i’m going around fucking anybody and everybody?”

“language,” he replies, “no, i don’t. but i think you should be careful—”

“i think you should keep your opinions to yourself,” you bring your bowl down to your lap, licking the broth off your bottom lip. “i’m an adult and i will do what i want with who i want, if i end up with an STD i’ll take my adult self to the doctors with my adult license and my adult car.”

“with your adult insurance that isn’t mine?” matt counters, his voice raising. “because as much as you think you’re an adult, you’re still a child living under my roof.”

“oh no,” ace mumbles under his breath, his forehead going into the space between his thumb and index finger. he’s heard this argument before.��

you let out a dry laugh as the heat grows exponentially, “your roof?” your laugh gets louder and your vision turns red, “you still really think it’s your roof? it’s my dad’s roof, my dad’s money that pays for all of this. i’ve seen the checks.”

your mom scolds you from across the couch with your name, your actual name, and her voice is loud, laced with a tone you only hear when you argue with her husband. “you do not speak to him that way.”

“why not? it’s not like he’s my fucking father,” you bite back, venom on your tongue.

“you still speak to him with some fucking respect,” she was always best at giving back what you gave in the first place tenfold, “we were all just fine down here until you got home.”

you lurch forward, “until i got home? how about until he opened his big mouth? you know what,” you stood up from your spot, bowl of ramen still in hand, “i’ll eat in my room since i’m the problem here. enjoy your show.”

you stomp up the stairs, steam shooting from your ears. it felt immature, the pang of feeling fucking stupid was the only thing that followed you up the hardwood staircase, not a pair of footsteps came with it. good, you hoped they were all enjoying themselves down there, without you.

no matter how idiotic it felt to fight with your mother’s husband in a room full of people, you couldn’t help it. something about matt, his incessant need to parent you, to get under your skin, to act like your father when he wasn’t him– it drove you up a wall. nothing else in your life triggered your short fuse, nothing else set you off the way he did. it happened all the time, you couldn’t stop it, you couldn’t fix it, you didn’t want to.

it didn’t take long eating alone at your desk until your eyes caught the framed picture of your dad, and the cogs in your brain came to a full stop and your anger completely dissipated, replaced with a sadness and an ache only he could fill.

────── ꨄ︎

12:07 am unknown: that girl from the bar weds night? unknown: ur friends left ur number on the receipt when they closed out, i assumed u told them to lol

you curse yourself friday morning for not staying up later.

8:21 am you: ohhh this is seonghwa? you: i did not ask them to do that lmaooo but they're real ones you: hey <3

to your surprise, he’s quick to answer. you blink back exhaustion and yawn, sitting up in your bed– you need full brain power to play the game.

seonghwa: damn and i actually texted when u didn’t even want it seonghwa: im sick

you: LMFAOOOO you're up early you: didn't stay out late?

seonghwa: nah, working first shift at my other job seonghwa: could say the same about u seonghwa: except u didn’t text me back so im guessing ur well rested

you: omg two jobs a hardworking man! you: i have class so im up early either way

you didn’t get a text back within a few minutes, so you got up a little earlier and went downstairs to make coffee. it was already brewing on the pot as you reached the kitchen, so you got your mug and oat milk out, ready to pour when the pot allowed you to.

“you good?” ace asked as he walked into the kitchen, shirtless and in flannel pajama pants, scratching his clearly slept on head.

you nodded, back pressed against your island, staring at the pot as if it’d make the coffee brew any faster. ace walked to your side, “you don’t have to get so defensive with him, you know.”

you looked up at him through flattened brows, “fuck off.”

“i’m serious,” he argues, “he means well, only has your best interest in mind. let him in sometimes.”

a sarcastic smile plays on your lips, “like i said, fuck off.”

“alright,” your twin shrugs, “i tried. don’t come crying to me when you’re over this immature bullshit and vivi and i have a relationship with him and you don’t.”

“it’s too fucking early for this,” you groan, your head falling back. “i don’t need to hear this from you, anyone else is fine, but from you? keep your nose out of it.”

“okay, tiny,” he shakes his head as the coffee pot dings, letting you know it’s ready. you make your regular cup and head back up to your room, sitting at your vanity with your phone face up. as if on cue, it lights up.

seonghwa: i keep forgetting ur a student thats crazy seonghwa: with the tip u left me i feel like i owe u something. meanwhile ur a baby

you smile at your screen.

you: im 22, not a baby you: you don’t owe me anything but if this is your way of saying you wanna see me then i’ll take it

seonghwa: im 26, thought i was gonna have to soft block u

you: that’s a hard block, how do u even know what that is? you're basically prehistoric

seonghwa: prehistoric is craaaaazy

you giggle, at least yeosang’s insult was good for something. you gather all of your products to do your hair and makeup, setting them up in the order of use in front of you.

you: anyways, about seeing me?

seonghwa: still on the fence seonghwa: still not flexible

you: only one of us has to be

seonghwa: im free after my shift tonight, but i work early in the morning so i'll be kicking ur ass out early if need be

you: i wont lie, that was easier than i thought it'd be you: give me a time and a place and im there

as you got ready for the day, your body was on fire with excitement, a wide grin on your face. he put up such a front on wednesday— who would’ve guessed how easily you’d tear his walls down?

classes went by with a breeze, you were inching closer to the short but much needed thanksgiving break, then the lengthy winter break when the real fun began. the only looming thought was the closer you get to thanksgiving break, the closer you get to thanksgiving. you, still boyfriendless– you let the thought pass by without rattling your nerves. you’d be getting one step closer tonight.

seonghwa still hadn’t answered with a time or place after classes ended, even if it was only around three pm, you tried to not let it bother you. were you going to his place? then technically it’s not a date.

it could be a date– it depends what you’d be doing at his place. you wondered what it looked like. you know he has two jobs, he clearly takes care of himself well, you imagined it looked similar to hyunjin’s apartment. dim, cozy, spacious, decorated well, maybe a bit on the more editorial side of furnishing a place, taking in seonghwa’s overall vibe.

you began floating again, once more in dreamland, excited to get to know seonghwa. someone new, not in the bubble of people you’ve somehow created, someone on the outside. you didn’t meet him on a date with someone else, he isn’t a friend of a friend, he’s someone fresh, that no one knows. well, except julie and giselle, but for the sake of the moment, they don’t count. you convinced yourself into having high hopes– now he just needed to text you back.

after class, you busied yourself with homework, even going into next week’s workload– still no text back. you were stumped, and no one else was even home to cure your boredom. you cleaned your room, changed your sheets, did laundry– took an everything shower, ate dinner, you were trying not to lose your mind by the time it hit seven, and still no one was home.

why is no one in your house when you’re going crazy, but it’s a full house every other damn time?

he said he was working a shift tonight, was that at the bar? was he closing? that meant he might not be off until midnight. you sat on your bed, fully lotioned in your robe, with your index finger pressed to your lips. this was starting to look more and more like a booty call situation, and that was not what you were interested in. you had half a mind to text him first.

you: i guess not then…

no, that seemed too desperate.

you: hello??

what if he thinks you’re clingy already and calls off the whole ordeal?

you: if you want me to come over just to fuck i can tell u rn im not interested

now you just look flat out insane. you sigh, falling back against your bed, towel flying off of your head with the force you pinned yourself down with. you pulled your phone back up to your face.

7:48 pm seonghwa: hey sorry i ran late for my other job i didn’t have time to answer seonghwa: im not closing tho so i should be okay for like 9:30?

a shriek leaves your lips and you sit straight up again, thank god you didn’t send any of those messages. you take a deep breath, beckoning your heart rate to slow down before typing out a response. you’d think after going on so many dates you’d be a little more casual…

you: ur totally fine, are u sure ur not too tired? we can do another night

seonghwa: i don’t have another night unfortunately lol unless you wanna wait another week seonghwa: i get it if that’s too late or whatever

you pop a brow, he doesn’t have another night? what the hell does he do with all of his time, or lack of?

you: no that’s fine, just lmk when ur off

seonghwa: [location:attached]

you hear the front door open downstairs and roll your eyes, fantastic timing for people to get home. your issue has already been solved. you supposed if he didn’t have any free time, it wasn’t a booty call situation, but really the only time he had to spend with someone else– your curiosity was more than sparked. at least you’d have things to talk about.

you weren’t on edge getting ready, maybe you were getting more seasoned at this dating thing than you thought. you were grateful for it, though, especially since you assumed you were going to his place, most businesses were closed after nine except bars, you figured it was safe to assume he didn’t want to go to one after just leaving one.

in the same lounge set you wore to see hyunjin, when seonghwa texted you that he was off his shift you were already ready to go. you assumed your parents were in bed already when you went downstairs, and you could hear the boys yelling from the basement, that meant they were on the game. a part of you ached that you hadn’t seen them since last night, but you brushed it off, you were leaving the house in stealth mode. if they didn’t know, they couldn’t meddle.

seonghwa didn’t live far from the bar he worked at– which wasn’t far from campus at all. it was a quick drive, and parking was easy in his development. that was a weight lifted off your shoulders.

the complex was mid-sized, three massive apartment buildings in a straight line. each building had the same makeup from the outside: gray siding, a black patio, two black front doors on either side of a staircase. the cement staircase led up to the next floor, which had two more doors on either side of the platform, and then one or two more floors that repeated. you’d never been here before– you wondered if you knew anyone else that lived in the complex, maybe someone that went to your school.

seonghwa opened his front door before you made it up the cement walkway, a small smile on his face, “you were quick, i literally just walked in the door.”

your cheeks flush as you walk through the threshold into his apartment, “i’m a fast driver.”

“you look put together,” he says as you make your way in, and you whip your head around to look at him, not exactly sure how to take the comment, but his back was to you.

“is that a compliment, or?” you trail off, slipping your boots off your feet. he let out a noise of amusement through his nose as he closed the door behind you, but he didn’t answer your question.

“sorry, i had my siblings this week, they just went back to my mom this morning,” he ran a hand through his hair as he walked past you, “excuse the mess.”

“not at all,” you looked around– the mattress from his bed was on his living room floor, if you could call it a living room, blankets and pillows thrown everywhere. “your place is adorable, it’s homey.”

it was also the last thing you expected from his place– far from hyunjin’s, far from anything you imagined.

“i brought home food from the bar before the kitchen closed, if you’re hungry at all,” you followed him to his table that was just outside of the kitchen, the only place that was enclosed by a wall beside his bathroom, “it’s just chicken tenders and fries, there’s drinks in the fridge. i’m gonna go take a shower.”

he didn’t even look back at you before he slipped into the bathroom that was off the side of the kitchen, the only actual room in the whole place. you took a breath and pulled out a chair, cringing as it scratched against the light hardwood floor, cringing even more as it creaked when you sat down. before you pulled apart the to-go boxes, you took a moment to really look at seonghwa’s place.

it was clearly a studio apartment– almost a fully open floor plan, which you didn’t think was common for a complex like his. behind you was the kitchen, small but functional, it had a white stove with criminally old burners– you wondered if stoves that old still passed inspection these days– and beyond was a light wood countertop, save for a silver sink stuck directly in the center of the slab of wood. next to the stove was a washing machine which popped an eyebrow from you, you’d never seen one in a kitchen before. above was matching cabinets, one was missing a handle, the other two were a faded brass color. his fridge was small and white, a freezer beneath it, covered in little pieces of paper with drawings in crayon, streaks of red and blue across the pages, held up by alphabet magnets.

how old were his siblings?

you almost got out of your seat to look at the radiator, you’d only seen them in movies, it was like you had stepped back in time. the massive windows above the radiators that opened in the middle were breathtaking, you could only imagine cleaning on summer mornings, opening the windows to let fresh air in, music playing throughout the space.

the small table and chairs you were sitting at were placed more towards the common area, or living room you supposed, to tie the areas together. a wall separated the kitchen from the living room, which was openly connected to his bedroom, only a desk between his couch and bed– that didn’t have a mattress on it.

his mattress was laid out in front of the couch, a mess of pillows and blankets thrown on top, his coffee table moved to the end of his bed. his wardrobe hung on clothing racks against the wall at the end of his bed, with a tv to the right, facing the couch.

everything was so condensed into such a small space, you wondered how the hell he lived like this. you were positive you couldn’t even fit all the contents of your bedroom into a space this small. there was closet space directly next to the front door, and you wondered what he kept in there if all of his own clothes were out on display– a pit in your stomach grew, you felt bad for him.

you unpackaged the to-go containers from the plastic bag, laying them out side by side, one box for chicken tenders and the other for fries. would it be rude if you checked his fridge for ketchup?

you bit into a fry, feeling a little awkward with the only sound in the whole place coming from the bathroom. the muffled noise of running water should be more comforting than it is, but you couldn’t find any comfort in the situation you were in. you tucked your feet up onto the chair, wrapping one arm around your knees, the other grabbing another fry from the container.

after what feels like hours, you hear the squeak of the knob until the water finally shuts off, and seonghwa walks back out into the open space in nothing but a towel tied around his waist. you tried your best not to gawk, but his body made it impossible– lean and muscular with droplets of water cascading down his skin, you almost felt wrong for looking.

what made you actually turn your head was when he walked over to his clothing rack and dropped the towel. you gasped, wide eyes focusing on the to-go containers instead, blinking rapidly. he just got fully naked in front of you without saying more than three sentences to you, you think you either got yourself into a weird situation or he was just really comfortable with himself.

maybe you should’ve told the others where you were going.

barely a minute went by before he was next to you at the table, black sweatpants hung low on his hips as he sat backwards on the chair beside yours. he bit into a chicken tender, running a hand through his wet hair, shaking it out ever so slightly.

you blinked at him, wondering if you were invisible. you cleared your throat, “i saw the pictures on your fridge, did your siblings draw them?”

he shakes his head, face completely serious as he says, “i drew them, what do you mean?” you blink at him twice, honestly believing him before he smiles. “yeah, they drew them for me in school. cute, right?”

you return the smile, a semblance of warmth returning to your body. “so cute, how old are they?”

“four and six,” he says, and as if he was beating you to asking the question yourself, he adds, “my mom had me stupid young, had them stupid late.”

“those are fun ages, though,” you grab another fry, “do they stay with you often?”

“they are not fun ages, and they’re with me during the week, they see my mom on the weekends,” he shrugs as if that’s normal. your chest aches, you wonder about their situation.

“oh,” you want to smack yourself across the face– you have so many questions, and all you can muster is oh? at the same time, you’re a little scared to pry, you don’t usually have trouble navigating conversations with anyone, but seonghwa was more than intimidating. you try a different route, “i have two siblings, too, a twin and a younger sister.”

“you have a twin?” he raises his eyebrows, “is she hot, too?”

“she is a he,” you correct him, “but if that doesn’t matter, we do look freakishly similar for being fraternal twins, yes.”

“how old is your younger sister?” he asks, grabbing a few fries from the container closer to you. you try not to get distracted by his fingers as they pass you.

“sixteen, that’s the age that’s not fun. after thirteen, girls are insane until they’re in their twenties,” you joke, stretching one leg back to the floor.

“girls are still insane in their twenties,” he doesn’t even look at you when he says it, his voice completely flat. “the six year old is a girl, nari, she’s an angel, it’s jun that’s a fucking menace.”

“a menace?” you giggle, “how so?”

“look at my living room,” he looks over to the mattress, blankets and pillows strewn about the floor. you cringe. “they usually sleep in my bed and i sleep on the couch, but he insisted we have a sleepover, and didn’t stop scream-crying until i moved the mattress to the living room. that was three nights ago and i still haven’t been able to move it back without him flipping out.”

“aw,” your heart warms at the thought, you wish vivi wanted to spend time with you, too. your relationship could be so different. “he just wanted to be close to you.”

“he wants to live inside my skin,” he doesn’t sound happy to say it, but you could see the faint smile on his face. “i’d let him, if i could. they’re growing up too fast.”

“pretty soon nari will be the one whipping you into shape,” you lean onto the table, resting an elbow on the surface. “my sister does not let me breathe– everything i do is a problem. she makes fun of me for being single, for being lactose intolerant, for being mad at her when she steals my clothes. when i tell her to get off my back, she tells me i need to see a therapist.”

“sounds like typical sibling shit,” he pops a fry in his mouth, “it’s cool that you guys are close in age, though, at least she doesn’t slip up and call you mom.”

the ache in your chest gets worse– you can’t help but pry a little. “they call you dad?”

“they’re four and six and see their mom eight days out of the month,” he lets out a dry laugh, “we don’t even share a dad and somehow i am their dad. we don’t have to get into it.”

with that sentence, a part of you wants to get into it. he didn’t mention his dad once, and it could be the one thing you have in common– you keep it in your back pocket, not wanting to push him further. you sit in a beat of silence before you ask, “what’s your other job? you said you work two?”

“three,” he corrects you, bringing a hand to rub his eyes. he did look tired. “i’m a bartender, an electrician and i pick up shifts at another restaurant downtown on the weekends sometimes.”

you wonder where his siblings were on wednesday night. “damn,” you say under your breath, “i almost feel bad for being here.”

“don’t be, i invited you,” he shook his head once, “wouldn’t have done that if i didn’t want company. what do you do?”

god, it felt so wrong to say you didn’t work one job compared to his three. “uh, i’m a student. full time.”

“ah,” he nods without a single reaction to you being unemployed, “what are you in school for? wait, let me guess.”

“psych major.”

“no.”

“communications?”

“no.”

“damn. nursing?”

“no.”

“damn!” he laughs, and the sound is music to your ears. finally, some emotion. “i’m stumped.”

“education,” you laugh with him, “i want to be an elementary school teacher.”

“is there a story involved as to why you want to teach? or you just like kids?” he finishes off the plate of fries, looking at you like he was fully interested in what you had to say. it helps ease more of the tension you weren’t sure was one sided.

“no story, i just like kids,” you nod, and cross one leg over the other. “i’ll start student-teaching soon, so maybe i’ll see jun or nari in my classes.”

“i’ll tell them to bully the fuck outta you,” he gets up from his chair, closing the to-go containers and stacking them on the table, a smile on his face. “tell junie to do all of this to your classroom.”

“none of my business as long as i’m student teaching,” you counter, “i’ll encourage him behind the real teacher’s back. maybe even give him new ways to make forts in your living room.”

“speaking of my living room,” he says as he walks toward the mattress, stopping just before it with his hands on his hips, looking over his shoulder at you. “should i move it back? or should we ignore it and sit on the couch like it’s not even there?”

“we could always lay on it,” you offer, “i’m not too old for a sleepover if you’re not.”

he smiles, then without answering, bends down to sort out the blankets. you get up from your spot at the table and pad over the hardwood floor to where he stood, helping him lay out the blankets a little nicer– even if you’d ruin them by getting onto the bed, anyways. it scratched an itch you didn’t realize needed scratching.

as you get comfortable on the bed, sitting at the top so your backs are leaned up against his couch, you ask, “why did you invite me over, anyways?”

he looks at you inquisitively, an eyebrow raised as if he didn’t understand your question. you rephrase, “you said you don’t hook up with people from the bar, i’m wondering why you said yes to me.”

he faces forward, thinking about it for a moment before he answers. “if i’m being honest, it was circumstantial. you texted me this morning, and i was in the mood to say yes.”

your jaw drops, “i feel like i should take offense to that.”

he shrugs, “if you want to, go ahead. i don’t hook up with people from the bar because all it does is create drama, and my hands are full enough as it is. i haven’t seen you there before, and i have a feeling i won’t see you there again, and somehow your number ended up in my possession, so… here you are.”

you blink up at him, you don’t think you’ve ever spoken to anyone so blunt, so careless as him– no, it’s not that he doesn’t care, it’s that his priorities are elsewhere. women and relationships are not at the forefront of his mind, it’s his siblings– his family. the ache in your chest gets heavier.

“your silence is freaking me out,” he interrupts your thoughts, “don’t think i just invited you over here to fuck you, i don’t care about that. it was really your persistence, and not the dimwitted kind of persistence that fawns over me and how i present myself– sorry if that sounds cocky.”

your smile grows as he speaks, but he shows no signs of stopping, “this sounds corny, but i have a lot of shit in my life, and for some reason i feel like you might… understand some of it, i guess. there’s a look on your face that tells me you aren’t just how you present yourself.”

you tilt your head, curious about his analysis of you, “what does how i present myself tell you about me?”

“rich girl,” he says, adjusting himself so he’s facing you, his arm laid over the couch behind you both, “pretty, pretentious rich girl like every other girl at that bar who’s never had to work a day in her life. daddy’s money is my guess.”

you can’t help the smile that creeps onto your face. “you’re not entirely wrong.”

you can’t read his expression, his eyes are pointed in a way that makes you think he can see through you. “but that can’t be all there is, you might walk around with your tiny purse and matching outfit and perfect hair, there has to be something else. something wrong.”

you cock your head to the side, “you think there’s something wrong with me?”

he smacks his lips, “poor verbiage. not something wrong, but you aren’t like the others who fling themselves over the bar in hopes that i’ll look in their direction, then curse me out when i don’t– i could definitely see you throwing a fit if something doesn’t go your way, which is half the reason i initially shut you down, by the way– but i have a hard time believing that your life has been all flowers and rainbows.”

“ah,” you nod in understanding, “i get what you mean. so you invited me over to unpack all of my trauma and confirm that your theory is true?”

seonghwa smiles from ear to ear, head rocking forward with a hearty laugh, you can’t stop yourself from laughing along with him. you continue, “i mean, no one’s life is all flowers and rainbows, everyone has their own shit they’ve had to work through. how can you tell all of that about me from meeting me one time?”

“i work with the public,” he says as if it's self explanatory, “i meet a lot of people, especially being a bartender, i hear a lot of shit, and i’ve learned what shit looks like on different people. i remember you from the music festival, too– you were with that brown haired boy and you looked fucking miserable despite smiling and giggling with him like a teenager.”

that takes you by surprise, your smile fades quick and your eyes widen under his gaze, but he holds it. “you were pretending to be happy, for your sake or his, i’m not sure.”

you gulp. “a little bit of both, probably,” you shift uncomfortably despite being on a literal mattress, feeling more seen than you were comfortable with. it seemed like he had a superpower, or maybe a curse, being able to read people so well– to see deeper than what others want you to see.

“so, to answer your question,” he rests his head against his hand that was propped up by the couch, “the idea of you understanding me and my life is what intrigued me, and a fateful series of events caused me to say yes to seeing you again.”

you release a breath you didn’t know you were holding, seonghwa may be twenty six but you think this has to be his eighth or ninth life on this earth just from his wisdom. you’ve never had anyone read you so fast, so clearly– be so blunt and honest without being hurtful.

“you could’ve just said you thought i was really pretty, you know,” you joke, and he laughs again, then pats around the bed in search of something.

“there’s that pretentious rich girl coming through,” he jokes back, his voice light and airy, but that edge returns as he pats the mattress down a little harder, “fuck, i can’t find the remote.”

“i don’t mind just talking,” you reach out to put a hand over his, and he physically relaxes, shoulders drooping, looking at you through black strands of hair that have fallen over his face. it made the shadows of his face deepen, the color of his eyes look somehow darker, he looked younger– different.

“i’m used to background noise,” he shakes his head, then slips his hand out from under you to run it through his hair. “the quiet is so… quiet.”

“is quiet okay?” you tilt your head, bringing your hand back into your lap. always having to entertain, feed and bathe two little kids on top of working three jobs was sure to be exhausting, you wondered how much quiet he actually got to experience.

he nods, “yeah, quiet’s more than okay.” you couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto your face, how soft he looked in that moment with his hair half dried, eyes a little more hooded than they were before. you wonder how often he has people over his apartment, if he ever gets the chance to just talk, or let his frustrations out.

in that moment, you felt like you could understand him, at least a little more than before— he wore a hard exterior, made himself out to be a tough shell to crack, but it was in protection, preservation for what matters to him most. it made you look inward. you wished you looked at your family differently, you wished you thought of your siblings with more care, you wished at least a part of you sought to protect them at all times, like seonghwa did his own.

they’re the only other two people in the world that have gone through everything you have, the only two people that could understand that part of you. they didn’t need to understand you fully, not when it came to your relationship problems, or why your room needed to be clean at all times, but what’s at your core? all your pain, all your grief, your loss, the very things that make you who you are? they understood that easily, when no one else could.

instead of being jealous of vivi, for how young she was when your father passed, you wish you protected her childhood a little more. preserved her innocence, her naïvety, you wished you ushered her toward welcoming another father figure in her life instead of keeping her away. it’s a privilege, a strength, not everyone gets a second one, not everyone gets a first. ace had always been better at seeing the bigger picture than you.

you lay down on the mattress, sinking under the blankets, letting your head rest on the yellow pillowcase. “tell me more about your siblings.”

seonghwa looks down at you, eyes full, heavy, shaped like the moon— he didn’t hesitate in telling you everything about them. their favorite colors, their favorite subjects in school, little stories about them growing up. his entire face lit up when he said their names, he told you funny stories about hectic mornings getting ready for school, a scary one about the one time his grandma forgot to pick them up from the bus stop. it was heartwarming and heartbreaking at the same time, especially when you realized how little he spoke of his mother. eventually he moved down on the mattress, laying beside you on his back, only his head turned toward you in conversation, so comfortable on the topic he got physically comfortable, too.

“can i ask you a personal question?” you asked, both hands under your cheek, body turned on its side. it was cozy between you two, laying here, talking like this. sharing personal stories with someone you’d just met was never your cup of tea, but with seonghwa, you haven’t talked about anything other than personal topics.

“only if i get to ask you one in return,” he replies, and you shoot him a lazy smile— you could’ve bet money on that answer.

“deal, but you don’t have to answer. why do you have them during the week, and your mom on the weekends?”

he sighs, turning his head straight, looking up at his ceiling. the lights in his apartment were dim, cascading a faint yellow over his skin, over his living room. he didn’t seem hesitant to answer, instead choosing his words carefully. “it’s not court ordered, it’s our own kind of system, i guess.”

“i was twenty when she had nari, she was thirty six. i was twenty two when she had jun, and she was thirty eight. after she had jun, their dad fled, just like mine did right after she had me.”

you took a breath, heat rushing to your face. you knew it’d be personal, maybe hard to talk about, you didn’t expect him to share it so openly, without hesitation.

“she was sixteen when she had me, so my entire upbringing was a little fucked up— i was like her friend growing up more than i was her son, my grandma raised me for the better half of my life. she was a wreck after he fled, we couldn’t reach him, couldn’t find him, she couldn’t believe it had happened again. she fell into a pretty deep depression, especially postpartum, and i didn’t trust her with the kids, nor did my grandma,” he used his hands as he spoke, but he didn’t look at you. he kept his face upward, staring at the ceiling, but he kept going.

“my grandma and i took shifts, she watched them while i was at school, at work, then i came home and took over— that’s kinda the system we still have to this day. when i moved out and brought them here, my mom actually started to get better. she’s medicated now, more stable, but she’s not really the same, and i’m not sure she ever will be… so they ended up being my responsibility. i think they might always be,” he finally looked over to you, he didn’t look uncomfortable. he didn’t look sad or angry, but instead content, like everything that happened in his life was for a purpose. “i trust her enough now to have them on the weekends, and she’s never fought me on the ordeal. i couldn’t imagine my life any differently, it’s hard, but i wouldn’t want it any other way.”

you didn’t realize there were tears in your eyes, let alone falling down your face until seonghwa hopped up on one elbow, his other arm swinging over to wipe a tear off of your cheek. “don’t cry for me.”

“i’m sorry, i can’t help it,” you sniff, hands coming up to rub beneath your eyes. “just not what i expected.”

“yeah?” he teased, “did you think i was just some hot bartender who invited you over to fuck your brains out? instead i’m sitting here talking about my sob story of a life?”

you laughed through the tears, “kinda.” you both fell into laughter, but he stayed propped up on one elbow. “i’m happy that i asked, and thank you for sharing that with me. you’re incredible, i wouldn’t be able to handle half of what you do.”

“i’m sure you do a fine job for your hot brother and annoying sister,” his voice was still light and teasing, his hand coming back to brush a hair out of your face.

“ace has all of the strength, he’s the one who’s always looked out for me and vivi. i’m the coward,” you admit, shaking your head.

“it’s my turn,” he says, and you don’t give him an answer. instead, you hold your breath, a small part of you was nervous for what he’d ask. “if you could go back in time and change anything, what would you change?”

without missing a beat, you said, “i’d stop my dad from leaving the house the morning he passed.”

“i knew it,” seonghwa said excitedly from beside you as if he had cracked the code, “i wasn’t expecting you to also be fatherless, but i knew there was something.”

you couldn’t stop the snort before it happened, a fit of giggles taking over you so hard you fully turned over on the mattress. “fatherless—” you said through a laugh, “—is terrible!”

“well, am i wrong?” he was laughing too, small chuckles that he couldn’t contain, either.

“no,” you turn back over, shaking your head, breaths of giggles still pushing through your words. “i do have a step dad, but i don’t like him.”

“why not?” seonghwa asks, and instead of being propped up on one elbow, he shifts so he’s lying on his arm, his palm holding his head up, still on his side.

you sigh, “he wants to be my dad. he’s been with my mom since i was thirteen-ish, my dad died when i was twelve. i guess i got it in my head when i was little that he was trying to replace him, and i haven’t gotten myself out of it.”

seonghwa makes a face, one that doesn’t look pleased with your answer. “you realize how fucking stupid that sounds, right?”

“you don’t know him,” you bark in defense, “he drives me insane. he always has something to say— about what i do, who i date, where i go, what i wear, what i’m eating? it’s ridiculous.”

“sounds like he’s trying to be a father,” he deadpans, but his tone wasn’t malicious. “isn’t that what he signed up for? when he married a widow of three kids?”

“i never wanted another father,” your voice was quieter now. you’ve heard all these words before, but they sounded different coming from him, from someone who doesn’t have half of what you do.

“but you’re lucky to have another father figure, and it sounds like he’s still trying to be one after almost ten years of you pushing him away. take it from someone who’s dad never gave a fuck about him, if he wants to be in your life, you should let him,” he says, his voice harsh, but you can hear the truth in his tone.

it's different from when your mom says it, different from when vivi or ace says it, too. taking seonghwa’s situation into account, he’s had it harder than you have— his father left, abandoned him and now he’s trying to be a father figure to kids that aren’t his own, without having had that parental figure in his life. with no one to learn from, and with much less resources than you have at hand. his advice holds heavier weight.

“be grateful for what you do have,” he adds, his voice softer now, likely from reading your expression which you don’t doubt has gone completely sour. “your mom, your siblings, your stepdad, the privilege you have to live your rich pretentious girl life. don’t take anything for granted, trust me.”

“i don’t know how to stop,” your voice was near a whisper now, “hating him— being this way, pushing him out, it’s all i’ve ever done, all i've ever known.”

“what do you mean, you don’t know how to stop?” he lifts an eyebrow, “that’s an excuse. what do you do when you argue with your friends, and then you make up? you go back to normal, like nothing happened.”

the thought of going back to normal with matt— normal is this, the fighting, the yelling, the insults, the wedge you stuck into your relationship almost ten years ago. you think about the night you asked him about whiskey, when you were excited to show off your skills to mingyu. how excited he was to show you his collection, to teach you all of his knowledge on whiskey, he probably thought that was a bonding moment for the two of you. did you even thank him for it? have you ever thanked him for anything, once in your life?

“if ace is the strong one and you’re the coward, then lean on him, let him be your strength.” he moves another piece of hair out of your face, trailing the back of his knuckles against your cheek. “sorry if i’m overstepping, i wasn’t planning on giving you a therapy session tonight. i couldn’t help it.”

“no,” you shake your head, then bring your hand up to grab onto his, the one that was just against your face, holding it there. “you didn’t overstep, your advice— your perspective on it, all of it, i appreciate it a lot. thank you.”

he smiles, it was tight lipped, but it was genuine. “i charge one hundred an hour for my sessions, by the way.”

you let go of his hand, throwing it towards his chest with a laugh. “way to ruin the fucking moment, hwa.”

“hey, i wouldn’t get anywhere in life if i handed out freebies to the rich, would i?”

“and when you say i have daddy’s money, did it occur to you that it was dead daddy’s money all along?”

“don’t matter to me as long as the bills are blue, baby.”

the two of you exploded into laughter again, it was comforting sharing your dark humor with him, even more comforting that he shot it right back at you. you’d made plenty of dark jokes in your life which usually met with weird stares or awkward chuckles— but with him, the flow was different, it was raw and real. if you let yourself think about it for too long, it might even scare you how easy it felt with him.

to know barely anything about one another and immediately jump into heavy conversation, to talk about such deep, dark things… that isn’t a connection you make easily. maybe seonghwa really did see something in you on wednesday, and if it was a fateful series of events that brought you to his bed today, maybe you should start praying more often so the gods would share more of their luck with you.

you lay there for a minute longer after your laughing had subsided, remembering that the two of you were in an empty apartment, on a bed, and this is what the two of you had decided to do with your friday night. trauma and therapy. you supposed there wasn’t a proper time to get horny from the moment you walked in the door.

you let out a huff of amusement through your nose at the thought and seonghwa turns his head to you, you missed when he moved to lay on his back again. “what’s funny?” he asks, a smile still playing on his lips— there was humor in the air, if you weren’t careful you’d both catch the giggles again.

“you know the deepest shit about me and you haven’t even kissed me yet,” you turned your head to face him, your grin still stretched from ear to ear.

“wanna know what else is funny?” he asks, and you nod. “you know the deepest shit about me, and you don’t even know my last name.”

you think about it for a second, you don’t know his last name— but you can’t claim defeat so easily. “do you even know my first name?”

he smacks his lips, looking at you as if you were insane. “do you think i’m a fucking monster?” you raised your eyebrows, unimpressed, because you never told him. “it was on the receipt from the bar, you paid with your card.”

“you paid attention?” you ask, surprised.

he smirks, then says your full name, and then starts reciting your entire credit card number from memory.

you gasp, shooting up from your spot on the bed, sitting straight up. “seonghwa! that has to be illegal or something, how do you remember that?”

he sits up too, shrugging, his demeanor turning cocky, “i have a good memory. what’s my last name, baby?”

with that one question, with that name, the energy of the room shifted. you stay silent, keeping your lips pursed— you didn’t want him to know he was right. his smirk grows, head tilting to the side, his arms stretching behind him. you watch the muscles in his abdomen flex and curve, how the muscles in his shoulders became more defined with the movement.

“come on, you wanna kiss me, don’t you?” his tone was taunting, inflection dipping and rising just to egg you on further, “work for it.”

your eyes flickered to his mouth as he spoke, those devastatingly pink lips— “is this going to be another tease about making me work for something, for once in my life?”

his smile grows, “you know me so well.” he uses his arms stretched behind him to haul himself to the top of the bed again, his back hitting the end of the couch as a makeshift headboard, then looks over to you, head tilted in thought. “i’m surprised you’re not running for the hills.”

“why would i be?” your eyebrows furrow, expression clearly confused. “thought you scared me off?”

he shrugs, as if to say maybe a little. you shake your head with a reassuring smile, “it takes more than a sad story to freak me out, seonghwa.”

his head dips back, body shimmying down so he could rest it on the cushions of the couch, jughular on full display to you. you nearly lick your lips. he thinks out loud, “i can’t tell you the last time i had someone here.”

your eyes widen— surprised at the realization he isn’t hooking up with people weekly, even more surprised at the sheer honesty. you crawl up next to him, wanting to touch him in some way, scared to make the first move.

“is it still okay that i am?” you wonder, reality looming above you again, it wasn’t just you that had the option to run for the hills. as much as he shared with you, you shared with him, as shallow as your issues seemed compared to his own. you shared a similar darkness, but his reality was still much different than yours.

he lifts his head back up, face inches from yours and you hadn’t realized how close you’d gotten. his features are so sharp, it makes the simplest gaze in your direction feel intense. you don’t shrink under his eyes, instead you stare back with a question in your own, awaiting his answer— patiently.

“if you left right now, i’d be more disappointed than i’m willing to admit.”

you smile, eyes drifting down to his lips again, then back up to his eyes. you wanted to feel his lips on yours, you wanted him, whatever he’d give you, you’d take greedily. your voice was quieter now, huskier, a blanket of lust making it sound velvety when you replied, “i’m not going anywhere.”

he leans in, a faint ghost of a smirk on his lips, his entire attitude changing. “figured out my last name yet?”

“if i say no?” you reply, playing into the game he had started with you, holding his gaze with his mouth centimeters from yours. you could feel his breath hot on your lips, god you wanted to close the distance, you needed it after all you’d just shared with each other.

“i’ll have you spelling it out for me before i’m done with you,” you might’ve moaned at his words if he didn’t take your lips with his own after he said it.

sweet yet heavy, seonghwa kissed you like he’d been waiting hours to do it. he had you on flat on your back with no time to waste, your head hitting the yellow pillowcase once more, the pink blanket you had covered yourself with still between your bodies. you arched up into him, hands immediately roaming his skin, feeling every dip and curve of muscle on his abdomen, his chest, his shoulders. you were panting into the kiss before you knew it, legs trapped beneath the blanket, beneath the weight of his body, you were more than eager.

his mouth moved to your jaw, placing hot, wet kisses along the skin before his tongue trailed along the bone from your chin to your ear. you let out a noise you knew you’d be embarrassed about later, abdomen clenching as your hands fled for his hair– it all happened so fast, your brain was fogged over before you knew it, a cloud of sheer lust and an adoration for him sweeping you under.

he ripped the blanket from between you with a grunt of frustration, throwing it to the side, likely onto the hardwood floor beside the mattress. his hands finally touched you and you all but melted into him, whimpers and mewls leaving your throat as his fingers danced over the space between your top and pants, body reacting far too much when you weren’t doing anything yet.

“here i thought i was touch starved,” he teased, lips right under your ear, he had just finished harshly sucking a spot into your skin. “listen to you, making all those pretty noises for me.”

“shut up,” you say through a breath, your eyes closed, head digging into the pillow beneath you. your legs hooked over his back, desperate for friction, for anything. “just touch me.”

“is that any way to ask for what you want?” he pulls back, arms holding him up, he looked so good above you. with that question, you knew all too well what game seonghwa liked to play, what made him tick. luckily for the both of you, you were into it too. he smirks, “as much as i love how desperate you are for me, you didn’t even say please.”

you whine, but quickly reel it in– you know this game, you’ve played this game before. “i’m sorry,” you quickly gushed out, “please touch me, seonghwa.”

“seonghwa, what?” his tongue peeks out of his lips, his smirk turning devilish. you could feel your panties dampen at the action. “what’s my last name, baby?”

you take a deep breath, words coming out like a moan, “i don’t know.”

he chuckles, it sounded saccharine. his head dipped down again, taking your lips between his, letting the weight of his hips crash into you. you moaned at the contact, hips immediately hooking around his, your core grinding up into him.

you weren’t expecting him to moan too. a fire set ablaze from your head all the way down to your toes, every inch of your skin burning. so mindless, guttural, like he needed release just as much as you did– it pulled you under even deeper.

“let me taste you,” you mumbled into his lips, and his tongue swiped against your bottom lip, messy and hot and nasty. “please, let me? wanna suck your cock.”

his head fell into the crook of your neck with a groan, stilling himself for a moment before he flipped you both over. sitting with his back against the couch again, he looked down at you through flattened brows, his expression not here nor there. he was just as gone as you were.

he lifted his hips for you to pull his sweatpants down, just far enough for his cock to spring up, slapping its heavy weight against his stomach. your mouth filled with saliva, you could feel your eyes glaze over– long, veiny, not too thick– an angry red tip with precum smeared around the top half of him… if you opened your mouth, you’d drool.

“so hot, fuck,” you mumble under your breath, sitting between his legs, then dip your head down to spit the contents of your mouth over his length. you spread it over the length of him, slow strokes with a heavy hand, seonghwa keeled.

abdomen clenching already, his head dipped forward with a long groan, right from his chest. a smile spreads across your face at how sensitive he was– “you want me to take care of you, baby?”

he looks up to you with wide eyes before his eyebrows furrow, your words sending him into a whole different headspace. “come on, don’t be shy, tell me what you want.”

you didn’t know where your words were coming from, you weren’t usually the person doing the dirty talking. as his eyebrows knitted further together and his jaw went slack, you felt an edge, almost a high from how your words made him react– this was new, but you loved the power it gave you. it was too easy to switch roles with him.

you squeezed the base of him, “words, hwa. speak.”

“fuck,” he moaned under his breath, “want your mouth on me, please, make me cum.”

“there you go baby,” you smiled, and your hand began stroking him again. “that wasn’t so hard, was it?” he only moans in response as your head dips down, licking his tip once, twice, three times before taking him into your mouth fully.

his hand flies to your hair, gripping it right at the root, and you couldn’t stop the moan from leaving your lips. he kept you there, at the base of him, with your nose touching the patch of hair on his skin, his limbs locking up– you wondered if he was trying not to cum.

he definitely needed this more than you did.

when he let your hair go, you popped off of him with a quick intake of air, catching your breath for just a second before taking him in your mouth again. you kept your hand at the base of him while you worked his tip, tongue swirling along the underside, lips sucking harshly around the width of him. he was mewling, small tuts of air leaving his lips accompanied by other noises of pleasure, all which made you want to please him further.

you finally worked into a rhythm, hands moving at the same pace as your mouth, twisting and sucking, the only noises audible were the wet squelches of your mouth and the moans he couldn’t stop feeding you.

“fuck– ngh, gonna cum, wait,” but you didn’t listen, no, he needed this. if he was going to fuck you the way you wanted him to, he needed this first. your hand gripped him harder, mouth working him faster until he was spilling down your throat, releasing a long, languid groan that you were sure had you soaked through your pants.

his head fell back again as you popped off of his length, after swallowing every drop of him and licking him clean. he let out a long exhale, “that was borderline demonic.”

you let a noise of amusement slip past your lips, “seemed like you needed it.”

“more than you know,” he replied, then picked his head back up, looking you up and down. “you’re still wearing clothes?”

“someone forgot to take them off,” you tease, crawling onto his lap.

you attach your lips to his again and he takes them greedily, quick to slip his tongue between your lips, probably tasting himself on your own. he breaks the kiss, but your eyes stay shut, his voice is deep and husky again as he says, “i’m supposed to putting you in your place, ruin that pretty little display you put on for me.”

you remember what he said earlier– you look put together. you smirk, “we still have all night,” back arching into him, your arms going around his neck. he tucks his legs beneath him and flips you over, putting your heads at the foot of the bed, your legs hung over his thighs as he bends down to keep his lips attached to yours.

his hands travel up your waist, slipping beneath your top, hands coming up to cup your chest over your bra. you release a sigh of contentment into his mouth as his lips move to your jaw again, breaking away as his fingers come down to the hem of your top to pull it over your head. your top meets the pink blanket on the floor somewhere as seonghwa’s eyes widen at the black lace adorning your chest, his hands coming up to grab, pinch, squeeze.

you whimper, hips bucking up into his own, silently begging him for more. “i love this,” he comments, tugging on one of your straps, and you gasp as it snaps back against your shoulder. “almost wanna leave it on.”

“get the full picture first,” you whisper, and he’s quick to understand– leaning back so he can tug your pants down your legs, groaning when he’s met with a matching thong. his jaw goes slack again as his hands run up your thighs and you push them apart, back arching up involuntarily.

“please,” you beg, barely above a whisper, laid out almost completely bare for him. he looks up to you and his eyes look impossibly darker, onyx eyes reflecting nothing, you were both far past gone.

he slips his middle finger beneath the lace and pulls the fabric to the side, then lets out a whistle when he sees just how wet you were for him. “you’re soaked, baby, want me that bad?”

“you shouldn’t be talking, based on how fast you just came down my throat,” you bit back, hips twitching as you felt the cool air of his apartment breeze over your center.

“watch it,” he warns, “don’t forget i choose whether or not you cum.”

you smirk because the threat feels empty with the way his eyes haven’t left your core, how his face is growing closer, you were sure he didn’t even realize he was moving. enjoying the fight for power, you push him a little, “if you can make me cum.”

his eyes flash up to you, that darkness laid within them showed a whole different purpose. he raised his eyebrows, “if i can make you?”

you nod, smirk still wide across your cheeks, and the smile that grew on his face was wicked. he laid flat on his stomach immediately, not bothering to take your panties off before his tongue was diving straight into your center. you choked out a moan, hips grinding into his mouth, grateful yet still begging for more.

“yes, yes,” the word was a chant on your tongue as he licked up and down your folds, lips sucking around your clit, tongue massaging circles into the nerves. his mouth followed your hips as your hands dug into his roots, hips twitching and bucking into his face, back arching off of the mattress.

oh, there was no discussion about whether or not seonghwa could make you cum, it was about when. with how fast you made him cum, he wasn’t too far behind you in time, tongue making easy work of your core. you felt the heat build, the muscles in your abdomen tighten, clenching as you could feel your orgasm growing.

seonghwa ate you as if he hadn’t tasted pussy in years. it was messy yet precise, his tongue made a rhythm that was perfect for you– your moans grew higher in pitch as you let the feeling in your core build, build, build–

at the peak of your orgasm, when you just began to feel euphoria wash over you he pulls away, ripping the high away from you, leaving you empty, untouched. you shrieked, gasps leaving your lips as your hand flies to your center, “no! please, no, no no.”

he caught your wrist, letting it ride through you, the utter incomplete feeling of your orgasm being ruined. he still wore that same wicked smile, “if i can make you cum, right?”

you stumbled over your words, stuttering as he smiled down at you, “that– i- why did you– no one’s ever–”

“pretty rich girl, always gets what she wants,” he teases in a sing-song tone, and the words begin to feel cold. it makes your head even fuzzier, the clarity and shift in power you felt when you made seonghwa cum in your mouth was gone. his index finger trails up and down your folds and you twitch, gasps leaving your lips as remnants of an orgasm you didn’t get to fully feel rack through your body.

back into submission, where you were comfortable being, where you enjoyed being– that’s where seonghwa brought you to. you wondered if he liked you or hated you until his index finger slipped inside you, curling upward, sliding across that spot that had you keeling again.

“fuck,” you cried as he began to pump his fingers, your hands coming up to squeeze your chest, pinching your nipples over your bra. you missed the way he took a quick intake of air at the sight, you were a vision to him, so beautiful and so eager for him, he could bring you to orgasm over and over all night.

he added another finger, continuously curling them against that one spot, hooking them there and pumping them into you. your neck craned forward to look at him and he could see it all over your face, that you were close, that you were hiding it from him– or trying to, so he wouldn’t take this one away.

as you were about to reach your peak, he slipped them out of you, and you let out a prolonged whine of frustration. seonghwa couldn’t help his smile, even after all this time he still had it.

“seonghwa please let me cum,” you begged as he slipped your panties down your legs, but he ignored you. he reached behind you, unclasping your bra with one hand, throwing the matching set wherever the rest of your clothes were. you were incessant, your voice strained, weak as you begged further, “please, i need it, i’ll be good. please.”

“i told you i’d ruin you, baby,” he barely looked at you as he slipped off his sweatpants, grabbing the condom he stored in the pocket earlier. he ripped it open with his perfect teeth, slipping it over his hard length with ease, “you ready for the other thing i told you?”

your face was red, splotchy, your eyes glassy and not all the way there, but your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. his heart warmed at the sight.

“park,” was all he said, and you swore you were trying to make sense of his words, too overstimulated without any stimulation. he slipped inside you, met with no resistance as you both moaned while he pushed himself all the way to the hilt, the stretch was tantalizing– the size of him was perfect.

he stayed there for a moment, for you or for himself you didn’t know, but it took him a minute to look back at you again. when he did, he almost came from the sight of you, but he needed to find his resolve– he took your chin in his hand, “my last name. spell it.”

“what?” you questioned, you were too cloudy for this– he was balls deep inside you, and he wanted you to spell?

“my last name is park, spell it.” he used the same tone on you as you used when you told him to speak– it made you dizzy. he pulled out all the way, only the very tip of him poking at your entrance, and naturally you obeyed.

“P.”

your voice was weak as he pushed all the way in, softly this time, his cock curving perfectly upward.

“A.”

you basically whined the letter as he thrusted into you a little harder, thank god it was only four letters.

“R.”

your head flew back into the mattress, eyes screwed tight as reality set in that his cock might be anatomically perfect.

“K!”

you screamed it, you couldn’t help it, the strength behind his thrust had you seeing stars.

“goob job, smart girl,” he gushed as he worked himself into a rhythm, letting his hands come forward to cradle your cheeks, rubbing the pads of his thumbs over your skin. you released babbles of utter nonsense as he picked up his pace, pistoling his hips into you.

“‘m not gonna last,” he huffed, eyes falling shut above you, and tears filled your waterline. you needed to cum.

you reached a hand down to your center carefully, and to your surprise, he let you– you worked quick circles over your clit, your breath getting caught in your throat, his cock hitting that spot inside you over and over.

“yes, gonna cum,” you moaned out, thighs spreading impossibly wider, fingers moving quicker on your clit. it didn’t take long before you felt on the brink of your orgasm, the tears at your waterline spilling over your cheeks.

“cum with me,” he breathed, dipping down to attach your lips again, all teeth and spit. the reprieve you felt as your orgasm crash over you was blinding, and seonghwa wasn’t far behind, hips stilling inside you just as you started to ride it out. he pumped you both through it slowly, with nothing but heavy breaths in the air and your skin pressed against his.

you laid in silence for a few minutes, breathing into each other’s skin, feeling the rise and fall of each other’s chests as seonghwa laid on top of you. you finally broke the silence, “do not ever do that to me again.”

he let out a deep chuckle, exhaustion clear in his voice, “don’t taunt me and i won’t have to.”

he finally rolled off of you, keeping you close to his side, you cuddled up against his hot skin as the cool air of his apartment danced over the both of you. “i haven’t had sex in a long time, i know i didn’t last long. i owe you.”

“you don’t owe me shit,” you said groggily, your eyes closed with your cheek pressed to his chest. “if you wanna fuck again i’m game, but never apologize for that. i enjoyed myself thoroughly.”

he got up much to your dismay, tying off the condom and throwing it in the trash in his kitchen, returning with a water bottle that he opened before handing it to you. “at least let me make you cum properly.”

“how can i say no to that?” you give him a toothy grin, then take a sip from the water bottle. “i know you’re tired, though, we can literally just go to sleep, hwa.” “we’ll go to sleep after,” he bends down on the mattress, planting a kiss on your knee, all exhaustion that was in his voice moments ago was gone. “i want to make the most out of tonight. don’t think we aren’t talking again before bed, either. ooh, maybe we can order takeout from that twenty four hour spot by the campus, too?”

8fd masterlist | main masterlist

tags :p @chimivx @emmxxsworld @alisonyus @livixcore @skzswife @dawn-iscozy @yusalterego @velvetring00 @minvxq @moonlightgrleric @unicornwhisperer666

117 notes · View notes

achromatophoric · 2 days ago

Text

Immediately after an inexplicable incident where Wednesday accidentally swallows Bianca’s siren necklace.

Bianca: Shit! Addams, you have to puke it out!

Wednesday: No.

Bianca: Bitch, now is NOT the time to be stubborn. I need that back.

Enid: *wincing* She can’t, B. Sorry.

Bianca: Like hell she can’t. Just jam a finger down your goddamn throat, Addams.

Wednesday: *narrows eyes* I dare you to try.

Bianca: *steps forward* Fine, if that’s what it—

Enid: Stop! It won’t work! Willa doesn’t have one.

Bianca: *halts and scoffs* What, a throat?

Enid: A gag reflex.

Bianca: *blinks*

Bianca: Yeah, I’m gonna need more than that.

Enid: Luna scout’s honor, Willa doesn’t have a gag reflex. Just trust me on this. You do not want to lose a finger.

Bianca: Why the fuck would I lose a finger?

Wednesday: Because no part of me lacks conviction.

Bianca: *stares*

Bianca: So… what? You don’t ever puke?

Wednesday: Of course not.

Bianca: *rolls eyes* Then what are we—

Wednesday: I swallow harder.

Bianca:

Bianca: *looks to Enid for confirmation*

Enid: *blushes as she nods*

Bianca: 😐

Bianca: 🤦

Bianca: 😫

Bianca: Fuck. What-the-fuck-ever. Just get me a brand new necklace.

Wednesday: I can simply return yours in approximately—

Bianca: ❗️🙅❗️

Enid: 😨

Wednesday: But—

Bianca: ‼️🙅‼️

Wednesday:

Wednesday: *reluctant grunt* Fine.

Bianca: *jabs a finger at Wednesday* New goddamn necklace, you hear me? It better be brand spanking new. In fact—

🎶 You will get me a new siren’s necklace. 🎶

Wednesday: *dazed monotone* I will get you a new siren’s necklace.

Enid: 🫢

Bianca: There. Done. I am fucking OUT. I don’t wanna see either of you again till she has my NEW necklace ready.

Bianca: *storms off, cursing all the way

Enid: *calls after* Sorry again, Bianca! We’ll totes get right on it!

Wednesday: *snaps out of daze*

Wednesday: 🤨

Wednesday: 🤔

Wednesday: We could simply replace the ch—

Enid: *aghast* Wednesday, NO! Absolutely not!

Wednesday: *pouts*

#bianca is so done #gross implications #bianca barclay #wednesday addams #enid sinclair #wednesday netflix #wenclair #incorrect wenclair #incorrect wednesday addams #incorrect wednesday quotes #incorrect quotes #ficlet

136 notes · View notes

todosdream · 2 days ago

Text

stress relief | ony

15k wrds. strangers to friends? to lovers. slow burn. plot with smut. fem black oc. see the moodboard.

warnings: MNDI! lots of profanity, usage of n word, pet names, mentions of weed; smut: unprotected sex (PLS BE SAFE), edging, a spank or two, naaasty talk, degradation? more like brat-taming, dacryphilia for two seconds, ony rightfully has a bbc, begging, ony’s a talker (duh), choking? really just a hand necklace, pussydrunk ony, lowkey d/s but not explicitly mentioned

additional #: oc needs to get laid fr. kt needs her headphones. becca needs a new job. author doesn’t box. shout out mrs. etta. ony is chalanting with a girl for the first time. (and he’s vibing with it.) oc really needs to get laid. oc is a bit bratty… sorry. ony needs to get off his ass. oc is actually very bratty, damn. oh hell, oc gets laid!

“girl, I’ma be real with you… you need some dick,” crystal’s best friend tells her through her screen. kt’s giving a look, an interesting mix of pity and annoyance. her knotless braids are framing her face, mocha skin radiant as always but lashes looking quite barren. “yeah, and you need a lash refill, ho,” crystal snorts. since she’s bringing up needs and shit. it’s unfortunately been a while since they’ve hung out, kt now visiting family in colorado for about a week.

being the type of friends they are, the both of them have no issue communicating through tiktoks and sending pictures of silly things. just yesterday kt sent a picture of herself holding up a peace sign with a joint between her lips. she stood next to a 'no smoking' sign, the ‘no’ smudged. she thought she was just so clever. crys in return sent a saved picture of an unimpressed squidward, a typical exchange between the two goofballs.

“yeah, okay, ho. I’m just saying. maybe you’d be a little nicer to me if you got some,” she rolls her eyes, giving yzma. her rescheduled lash appointment can’t come quick enough. “says the girl getting some every day and still being mean to me,” crys scoffs.

kt’s living with her boyfriend, expecting his title to change to fiance after feeling a certain anticipatory energy from the man. her time consists of working and chatting with friends, and being with and posting videos with her partner. crys, however, explores her free time in many ways. picking up hobbies that have about a 50% chance of sticking, trying different restaurants, teaching her dog funny tricks, and the occasional friend hangout. it’s friday night and she’s doing her own nails just for the hell of it. although the uninhibited girl’s words trigger an automatic negative response, crys knows why she’s speaking them. when the phone call ends, kt will turn over and cuddle up to her man, maybe ‘get her shit rocked’ as she likes to so delicately put it. crys, however, will be left with her dog, her empty home and bed, and whichever toy she vibes with for the night.

she likes being alone, it’s an accomplishment for her to feel confident and comfortable being single after wasting her time with people that don’t care, men that don’t even actually like her. but when it’s all said and done, people are meant for connection. of course platonic, family, community… but that pull? that yearning? it can’t be replicated, no matter how many times she rewatches bridgerton or insecure.

it’s been a while since she just let go with anyone other than those already close to her. the last time she let someone new in, he showed her exactly why ‘niggas ain’t shit’ is such a popular phrase. it was a situation that didn’t make any sense, and in retrospect, she cringes. the embarrassment, the useless attempts at communication, the settling… never again. however, that’s a part of her life that’s being fully neglected. no dates, no late night rendezvous, no flirting, no sex.

one word: cobwebs.

“why are you more worried about my coochie than I am, anyway?” crys jokes as she fixes her gel polish, deflecting the conversation. it’s not something she wants to discuss or harp on. that’s just life for her right now. she’s tired of people wasting her time, so she became unavailable. simple. plus, she knows kt’s nosy ass man is lying next to her and listening because that girl never wears her damn airpods. “you think that’s an insult? girl. that only makes you look bad, not me,” she sasses. crys hears a soft snicker in the background. “oh, fuck you,” the girl mumbles in response. “and will you please put headphones on the next time you decide to go talkin’ bout my coochie? cause I’ll happily tell all those stories about yours, pimp.”

“stories?” crys hears in the background of the call. “ain’t no way she just called you that. what the hell that mean, crystal?” the bestie purses her lips and squints at crys. she watches as the brown skinned girl tilts her head, making her curls flop to the side with a ‘gotcha’ look. “I know where you live, you know that, fo’head? have a good night with your vibrator, ho,” she speaks lowly. shuffles are heard as she drops the phone onto the duvet next to her. “she don’t mean that, pookie, she’s just all pent up.” kt’s middle finger is all that’s visible on the screen before the phone echos a tone a few times, indicating the end of the call. crys snorts in response and sits her phone to the side. she sighs, looking over her nails for any imperfections as her mind echoes her words.

she wouldn’t be opposed to a night in the sheets. it’d be nice to dust off the cobwebs. get some head, maybe get her shit rocked like she hasn’t had in a while. part of her wants the slow and sensual, romantic sex with someone special. the kind of sex that touches her soul, that you can feel on every level. the other part… well. that part stays right in the cage where it belongs. that part likes to drown in frisky pleasure even if the one giving it is a life source draining leech.

it’s normal to want pleasure, it’s human. but the thought of all the bullshit that comes with dealing with another human, let alone a man in this day and age is enough to make her reconsider taking that step. so like usual, she brushes the words off and refocuses on her spa day so that she can be at her best for the work week.

ᥫ᭡

despite her best efforts, the next week is particularly irritating. mercury must be doing her shit, maybe all the damn planets, because so many people have had wack ass attitudes and it’s rubbed crys wrong. terrible interactions with customers, coworkers called out and left her in a busy store with little help, and she broke a nail doing something very much so not in her job description. on top of that, the amount of random things outside of her control that have gone haywire is deeply irritating. her tv crapped out and decided to just stop working out of nowhere, her wifi is out for local renovations, and her trash can is missing.

again.

it’s a wonder she hasn’t either had some type of crash out or just cashed in her pto for a fucking break. instead, she decides to get dressed for the gym and puts on a purple workout set. if she wants to be cute and sweaty she damn well will be. she grabs her favorite gym shoes and her essentials. she leaves her curls alone for now, but takes a scrunchie to put it up later. when she gets to the gym at a completely different time than she’s used to, it’s practically empty, save for a young and obviously bored receptionist that’s glued to her phone and a middle aged woman power walking into her destiny.

seriously, crys will have some of what she’s having. the woman is on fire.

sighing to herself, the frazzled girl goes to scan her member qr code, only for the damn scanner to decide to stop working. the blonde receptionist behind the desk sighs as if doing her job is the last thing she wants to do. crys usually wouldn’t blame her for that, but the way she’s popping her gum has the curly headed girl imagining a modern re-enactment of that one scene from that madea movie. the receptionist seems to be in absolutely no rush to fix the scanner, completely oblivious to the metaphorical cloud over crys’ head that’s growing by the minute. she fights the urge to furrow her brows and take a week’s worth of irritation out on the worker, deciding to take a deep breath instead.

the brief look up that the girl gives in response has her immediately regretting her decision.

before she can even think of something to say, the door opens behind her. she’s in no mood to look at the person, figuring they’ll both be waiting in line. she doesn’t want to seem open to small talk because she’s just not. however, the receptionist— becca, her nametag reads— looks up like the sun just graced the sky for the first time in centuries. she stands up straighter, obviously trying to make herself look like she’s doing the job that she’s been failing at, and calls over crys’ shoulder. “hey, ony, technical difficulties. you’re free to go ahead you don’t have to wait, I can check you in once this is fixed,” she smiles. that lucky bastard. it’s the first smile on her face in the entire time the bristling girl has been there. crys swears if this was a cartoon scene, the blonde girl would be fluttering her lashes with hearts in her eyes.

there’s a deep chuckle from behind. “thanks, becca. they should give you a raise,” a low, raspy voice responds. crys’ eye twitches. the hell they should, she thinks. hand me the damn performance review form cause I got shit to say. becca, now looking as if she’s on cloud nine, waves him off dismissively. “just doing my job. leg day?” she questions, trying to sound as casual as possible and not like her drool is threatening to ruin the damn scanner beyond repair. “mhm,” the stranger hums. “nice kicks,” he mumbles.

crys is too busy zoning out and imagining herself tap dancing on the broken pieces of the scanner to realize that he’s talking to her. the way becca’s eyes shift gets her attention. “oh. uh, thanks,” she murmurs, looking up. all she sees is a muscular back walking towards the men’s locker room. she doesn’t have time to look him over because ms. becca decides she actually can do her job and calls out to her that the scanner is fixed.

it just needed to be plugged up again.

ain’t no fuckin’ way.

becca doesn’t even seem embarrassed. she’s holding the scanner lazily and looking around, probably for that ony guy. the blonde doesn’t realize that crys is holding her phone out, and she’s still popping that damn gum. instead of saying something to the girl like she really wants to, she grabs the scanner from the “worker” to check her damn self in and quickly heads to the locker room. the girl doesn’t deserve her week’s worth of anger.

after some time, she’s finally out on the floor to stretch out. soon after the warm up, she’s at the punching bag. it’s not her usual choice of workout, but she took classes when she was younger and knows it’s a great way to release all that irritation from the week in a more physical outlet.

crys quickly wraps her hands and soon she’s throwing punches and listening to rico nasty, an artist who has several tracks on her ‘temper tantrum’ playlist. she gets into her groove, trying to remember the important tips from the classes she attended years ago. it’s hard to recall all the basics, but she gives it her best shot. not too long after, she notices a shadow of someone’s frame behind her. it must be that lucky asshole from earlier, probably here to be a bother. or maybe becca decided to do her job and came to tell her to move her bag off the floor. she sighs, taking out her headphones and turning to look. it’s the stranger. the man’s arms are crossed as he watches, showing his sleeves of tattoos.

crys wishes she could say he was ugly, but he’s definitely not. he’s fine as fuck, actually. his skin is dark and healthy, making him look like he actually has a skincare routine and not just 100-in-one soap. he has an athletic build visible even through his clothes that makes her want to drool like dear old becca. he’s tall, maybe 6’4 or 6’5, so she has to look up at him, even being on the taller side herself. his black durag matches his all black workout fit and she wonders what exactly lies underneath considering the size of his arms.

his demeanor is calm and steady, confident in a way that’s quiet, as opposed to many other gym bros™. his face is calm and there’s barely any tension in his body. crys thinks she’d like to make him bothered, just to get a rise. see if he’ll hold ip or bite back. but no, that’s rude, and she doesn’t know this man at all. his eyes are looking at her intently, and she despises how beautiful they are. why do men get to have natural lashes that look like that? it’s not fair she has to get extensions when his are so long with an almost perfect curl. and the color of his eyes make it worse, the light brown contrasting his dark skin so prettily. and his lips? full, perfect for kissing, among other things.

lucky bastard.

“you gone bite my head off if I suggest how to fix your form?” he asks with a simple raise of his brow.

ᥫ᭡

ony’s a hardworking man. he likes to handle business but have some fun on the side too. he’s chill. everyone would describe him as that. he’s the levelheaded friend, usually the calm in a storm, and not one to be all over the place physically, mentally, or emotionally. he’s a steady beat and he likes it that way. life is peaceful and secure, challenging in certain ways, but calm in others. he has a good paying job as a personal trainer, proper work life balance, and a good head on his shoulders. he doesn’t do too much, honestly, but that doesn’t mean that his life doesn’t have some interesting twists and turns. his boys always seem to need rescuing in some form, sisters all a whirlwind of their own. his mom is always a source of entertainment, although his dad is much like himself. he likes his life, simple as that.

but things have been becoming monotonous lately. his clients aren’t having any interesting developments and his social life is steady but uninteresting overall. his family group chat is going through a quiet spell and his boys are actually not up to anything stupid like they somehow always are. he’s been particularly unfulfilled by the game and there’s no sport he wants to keep up with as of late. it’s all kind of… blah. he’s grateful that nothing’s going wrong. he could be having a bad week as opposed to a boring one, but he aches for a spark, something different to bring a bit more color to his life. maybe he should get a pet? maybe some little fish couldn’t hurt. he thinks over the new idea while he follows his usual routine to pack up and leave for the gym.

and then he sees crys.

he notices her form as she stands at the check in desk, interest piqued. he’s never seen her before, and he comes to this gym at least five nights a week. he knows names and faces, especially since there’s usually no more than five people when he comes. her figure catches and keeps his eye, his gaze taking in the woman’s long legs, thick thighs, and plump ass, seeing how her afro falls around her shoulders. his excuse for where his gaze is centered is that it’s all he can see from where he’s standing, but it’s not much of an excuse. she’s just fine as hell. her workout fit is cute and colorful, contrasting his dark and bland one. her hand is in on her hip that’s popped out, accentuating her form.

his interest is definitely piqued.

he gets to see more of her when he comes around to speak to becca. pretty almond eyes, soft looking lips, the bottom currently being chewed with vigor. she’s beautiful… but one look at her profile and the flames in her eyes tell him all he needs to know: look the other way. ony grew up surrounded by strong black women in his life, his mom, sisters, aunts, cousins… learning to read body language and— well, the room, was something he learned quickly and he’s applied that lesson everywhere in life. everything about her body language and that cute, barely contained frown screams bad day. so he greets becca— who’s really a sweet girl, just unbothered— compliments her shoes, and moves on about his routine.

it’s like clockwork. he puts his stuff away, makes sure his chain is safe and secure, fills his water bottle, waves at mrs. etta on the treadmill, stretches, locks in, and gets the workout started.

he’s getting into his mode and enveloping himself in the feel of the workout, but he can’t help the way his eyes are pulled back to crys. the way she stretches, the way she adorably bobs her head to the seemingly… aggressive? music. she’s gorgeous and new, which has him feeling like every routine move he makes is just a little different. her and her angry pout and her curves and her curls…

she approachs a punching bag, which ony can admit he didn’t expect. the outfit convinced him she’d be power walking with mrs. etta, or doing pilates in the corner. his mom always told him what assuming does to someone, though. he looks away as he tries to focus on anything other than her. he counts his reps like usual, trying to submerge himself in his music. it doesn’t work. as soon as she takes her first swing, his eyes are back on her, taking notice of how she punches.

hm.

he can see she knows a bit more than someone just randomly choosing to throw a few hits, but he isn’t fond of some of the habits she has that could actually hurt in the long run. he debates approaching, but he’s always been one to help others in the gym. attitude be damned, he’s a personal trainer. he knows the importance of doing things correctly. after watching for a while, he decides to walk over. he knows that if she doesn’t fix her punch, she’ll be angry all over again tomorrow because of sore wrists. she turns, obviously annoyed, but he’s not scared. she looks him up and down, her facial expression barely shifting. he wonders what she’s thinking, wants to hear her voice. when she finally looks up at him with those eyes, he almost tilts his head.

how can someone be so fuckin’ pretty?

she’s a vision with her bare face. eyes he could get lost in, features he wants to admire for moments on end. he would actually guess that she’s quite sweet behind the haze of her frustration. obviously a multifaceted person, and he’s interested in the idea of learning all those facets. who she is, maybe what she likes, what she doesn’t like. maybe even what makes her happy, what would put a smile on the adorably scrunched up face. for some reason, he wants to see that happy expression. actually, as a matter of fact, he wants to see all her expressions. smiling, confused, relaxed, aroused. she’s caught him with a simple gaze and he’s confused about it.

“you actually know what you’re doing?” she asks. it’s not meant to be a jab, truthfully. she’s been hit on by guys that try to “help” just to flirt, but ultimately make a fool of themselves— and her for giving them the opportunity. she doesn’t have the patience for it today, it in fact might be the straw that breaks her back. she can see amusement tickle at his expression, but no signs of him being offended.

because he’s not. he can tell she isn’t asking in a facetious way, she just seems… tired. like she doesn’t want her time wasted. he can respect that. “I promise you, I do,” he says with a slight smile. just a little one, unable to contain his utter enjoyment in her sass, and still having that almost sickening feeling of attraction.

crys hums, her gaze sweeping over him again briefly, taking in his calm but confident demeanor. the little smile on his face is lowkey pissing her off, but she has enough sense to know it’s because she has a lot of stress to work out. he’s fine as hell and now’s really not the time for all that. even still, he’s bold to come over with the metaphorical storm still rolling above her head. bold… or stupid. who walks towards a burning house? but she knows if he could tell her form was off from so far, she could really be messing herself up with how she’s going at the punching bag. she wants to just kick and punch it randomly, similar to what her ‘temper tantrum’ playlist suggests, but she knows that’s no good. and again, he’s fine as hell.

all the same, she’s still irritated and frustration-filled. “sure, yeah,” she mumbles as she turns back to the bag.

ony’s quite intrigued, interestingly enough. he knows a person close to the brink when he sees one. he can see the irritation in her eyes and in the way her shoulders are set. her movements are stiff and her brows are still pinched, gorgeous even with the possibly dangerous amount of upset toiling in her. despite her tense demeanor, he can tell she’s still at least trying to be respectful. and he appreciates it.

“what’s your name?” he asks, shifting to stand next to her. she’s staring at the bag, itching to just punch. “crys,” she answers, sparing him a glance as she fixes the wrapping on her hands. she’s pulling it tight, her movements swift. she can feel him watching her intently and she doesn’t know how she feels about it.

he nods. “ony. I’m no expert but I can share a few tips to keep you from gettin’ hurt. mind if I touch you?” he asks, the question second nature from dealing with his clients. he knows better than to start without given permission, and he definitely knows he doesn’t want to be on the receiving end of her irritation. “s’fine,” she answers, ignoring the very inappropriate response that her brain comes up with. not now, brain. nasty ass. she really just wants him to hurry up so she can go back to punching, but she supposes she can hold back for a few more minutes if it’s him that’s going to touch her. plus it’s important to do it right, and even through her upset she knows that and is grateful for his help. if he could just be a little faster, though, that’d be wonderful.

he approaches, gently taking her hand in his as he unwraps her binding. “it’s a good wrap, but they shouldn’t be too tight. you gone hurt yourself that way,” he mumbles. his hands move slowly, demonstrating to her as he explains. it’s not in the show off-y way she expected, but direct and intentional instead. she’s glad he’s helping but a part of her is focused a bit too much on how his hands feel, how calming his voice is. “you should be able to spread your fingers. this’ll save your wrists and then some, yeah?” he murmurs, gently tapping her hand. still upset, she hates how soothing the contact is. she doesn’t need soothing, she needs violence.

that… might be dramatic. she knows it. but the week’s frustrations have all built to this moment and she plans to take full advantage of the punching bag in front of her. if he doesn’t pick up the pace, he might just take its place, handsome or not. “gotcha,” she mutters. “can I hit the bag now?” ony chuckles, and she’s mad that she really likes the sound. “sure. do a couple jabs.”

she takes a deep breath, her focus zoning on the bag. his presence fades slightly as she begins going at it, a bit overzealous. he lets her take a few punches, seeing how she obviously needs it. his gaze sweeps her form, watching her hips swivel slightly as she swings. her hits start with a decently healthy form, but the more she gets into it, ony can tell her focus is slipping. “okay, hold,” he murmurs. she doesn’t hear him and continues punching. her breathing is picking up and the cute scrunch between her brows is deepening. “hold,” he says louder, getting her attention. she huffs and raises out of her stance, blowing a stray out of her face. she steps forward and holds the bag to stop its movements, looking over at him.

ony could almost laugh at the way the curl flops right back into place. swears he could almost see her eyebrow twitch. damn, who pissed her off? “you got some good habits and some bad habits,” he mumbles, standing parallel to her now. “need to swing your hips more, not push through your arm. pop the bag, don’t push your punch.” he moves slowly as he speaks, demonstrating his words with his movements. it’s easy to follow, but his muscles are stealing the show, to crys’ dismay. “I was doing that,” she mumbles in response because she indeed was. “mhm, at the beginning. the more you put in, the less you focus on your form,” he says as he returns to his earlier position, arms crossed. “go again,” he nods. “bossy,” she mumbles. she likes it. he’s giving proper tips and doesn’t really care about her attitude, seeming unaffected.

ony chuckles, seemingly knowing there’s no actual anger in her tone, at least not completely directed at him. crys supposes he’s right. when she gets in the flow, her mind focuses less on her form and more on the happenings of the week. she definitely could’ve weakened her stance, and his words bring memories of her previous instructor. he might not be an expert, but he knows what he’s saying for sure. she gets back into her stance and takes a few more hits, more focused on her form this time around. she can’t quite lose herself to the exercise with the newfound focus, and she doesn’t like it. “better,” ony calls out. “keep goin’.” so she does. she follows his instructions to a t, feeling a bit more comfortable with the continued form as she practices.

“nice, real nice,” he murmurs, shifting to hold the bag from behind. he notices the hesitation in her movements as she focuses on her form. “come on,” his deep voice encourages. “where that fire go, huh? tellin’ me you can’t fight and focus?” crys, probably feeling goaded, looks up to him for a moment. ony could laugh again at the look in her eyes, but he doesn’t. “don’t look at me, look at the bag. you mad, I know it. let it out,” he nods his head to the bag in his hands. he doesn’t have to tell her twice. she starts to hit with more vigor, putting more into her punches. “mhm, yeah. control that shit, stay tight. swivel your— there you go, exactly,” he encourages. she’s picking it up, movements smoother and becoming more confident by the minute.

shit’s sexy as fuck.

crys is actually starting to fuck with him more, feeling herself in the workout. the way he’s talking is having an affect on her, and she knows she’ll be thinking back on this very moment tonight. his voice is deep, and slightly raspy as she keeps at it, and the encouraging makes her wonder if he’s like that in… different circumstances. she can feel her breath picking up for several reasons. “had you mad as fuck, huh? had you fucked up?” ony questions, pushing her a bit more. “let that shit out, ma. ain’t doin’ you no good to hold it in.” they both know that he’s telling the truth. she was just about bursting at the seams and his encouragement is helping her tap back into that. she punches harder, small grunts falling from her lips. the week’s frustrations are pouring out of her now and she’s pushing herself so that she can get him out of her head.

the way he’s talking to her in her amped up state just shouldn’t be legal. she’s pretty sure he’s the type to talk his girl through it, probably tease and taunt to get a reaction. damn, she needs to get laid. “form,” he reminds as her focus slips. she gives a quick nod, readjusting herself quickly before taking another shot. ony likes how quickly she responds to his guidance. “hell yeah, you got that shit. keep goin’, mama. ain’t nobody fuckin’ with you, that’s for damn sure.”

damn his fine ass with his deep voice and his face and his pet name.

she keeps going until every ounce of upset is drained, listening to his encouragement and occasional shit talking at a particularly weak punch or slip of focus. she’ll be honest, she feels good. great, actually. she feels as if she actually knows what she’s doing, confident in her moves. the upset has trickled away, but its absence is leaving too much space to think about the man in front of her. his fine ass is pushing her in the way she likes and needs, encouraging but taunting just the way she likes it.

after several more minutes, she steps back, panting. “killed that shit,’ ony mumbles, double tapping the bag. she really did, the difference between her earlier attempts and now is stark. and all because of just a few pointers. he watches as she catches her breath and unwraps her hands. “you done?” he questions. he wasn’t expecting her to finish so soon, she was just getting in her groove. he was honestly expecting a few more rounds.

“yeah,” crys answers as she nods. “thanks for your help, really. just needed to blow off some steam.” feeling better now, she decides that she should finish out with her regular workout. the less angry she is, the more she focuses on that damn smirk on his face, the way his muscles move with each shift of his body, the birthmark she’s spotted on his jaw. she’s trying hard to resist the pull she feels as she catches her breath. she gets another chuckle from ony. “could tell. I almost didn’t even come over. bad day?”

crys gives a sheepish smile, sliding her wrap in her bag. ony likes the smile a lot, but he wants more. “my bad. bad week, actually,” the woman responds. ony shakes his head, uncrossing his arms. “no harm, I get it,” he responds. and he really does, most of the time people’s attitudes really have nothing to do with you. “you should keep at it though, you got good form. at least when you’re focused. with some more practice, you could easily make it muscle memory.” and I’d like to see you more, he thinks. crys smiles and nods. “think I will. thanks again for your help, woulda been pissed if I hurt myself.”

ony’s eyes trail over her features. with the metaphorical cloud gone, she’s shining brighter. her smile is gorgeous, revealing a small gap in her teeth and a crinkle by her eyes. yeah. fuckin’ beautiful. “course. can’t have you gettin’ mad again, yeah?” he laughs, the sound deep as it rumbles from his chest. crys playfully rolls her eyes. “whatever, ony. actin’ like I’m godzilla or something. you can gone back to your workout.”

the two separate, continuing their sessions. but their eyes continuously meet as they sneak glances at each other and they exchange flirty quips. crys questions the amount of weight ony chooses for his sets, teasing that she’d thought he’d lift more. ony calls her out for a weak rep, telling her she should start over for half-assing. they just can’t seem to get enough of each other, teasing and poking at one another like crushing kids in school.

crys is definitely eating their interactions up. he’s fun in a way that isn’t childish, regardless of how he makes her almost giddy like a teenage girl. he’s not afraid to go along with a joke, but it’s obvious he’s not one to be messed with. no matter how many shots she takes, no matter how much she teases, he never breaks a sweat. it’s almost as if he’s welcoming the challenge and crys is more than willing to indulge.

ony likes her fire. it’s invigorating and it keeps him on his toes. he’s used to women being like becca— fawning, overly sweet, and obviously interested. the push and tug he gets from crys is different, and he’s enjoying every interaction, every tease, every glance at that ass. she just draws him in and he can’t get enough. where the hell has she been and why are they just now meeting? he could’ve shown her a lot more than boxing tips by now.

for her cool down, crys decides that since the gym is pretty much empty, she can take some extra time to do some yoga and meditation. she zones in and takes a plethora of deep breaths, regulating her nervous system and releasing tension. grounding herself in the present moment and releasing stress, anxiety, and frustration. it definitely helps as a follow up to the punching bag. she’s always appreciated how centered she feels after even just a few minutes of reconnecting with herself, tending to her mind, heart, and soul and not just her body. she should definitely do yoga often to stay balanced, but shoulda woulda coulda.

the second she starts to stretch, ony’s eyes are stuck on her like glue. she stretches for a long time, he notices. it seems like some type of meditation, the way she holds her hands together and closes her eyes, highly focused as she takes deep breaths almost audible where he stands. it’s interesting how he can notice the shift she makes from her earlier demeanor. she’s much calmer, locked in in a way unexpected to him. of course he knows how to calm himself, how to regulate. but those stretches… not only is he sure he could never replicate them due to lack of flexibility, but he can see the intention in each move, seemingly in each muscle and breath.

it’s weird to him how pulled he feels in her direction. he just wants to know her and is curious if she’d give him the chance. and of course he wants to know her body too… he could definitely help her relieve a lot of that stress. over and over again. probably until she couldn’t take anymore. something about her just keeps pulling him back in. maybe he’s just interested in her newness with his life currently feeling a bit more dull, but he knows he’d be just as interested if it wasn’t. she has spice, a good sense of humor, sweetness, she’s undoubtedly beautiful with all her little quirks, and that ass is the kind that a man would go to war for.

seriously.

especially with the way she’s sitting and stretching with her legs wide, chest flush against the floor. it’s making ony have thoughts, and a lot of them. after a while of being unable to stop looking, he decides to walk over. he stands above her with his arms crossed, head tilting as he looks down at her. “how the hell you even doin’ allat?” he murmurs quietly, almost to himself. and what else can she do? he wonders.

crys laughs in response, still enjoying the feel of the stretch. “I do it often. years of youtube videos, I guess,” she responds. she raises, intentionally moving slow for the practice. it’s just a bonus that she can feel his eyes on her ass. “sit down,” she grins, looking up at him with mischief in her eyes. he had his turn helping her, and now she’s going to do the same. whether he likes it or not. plus, it’d be real nice to spend some more time with him. she likes his presence and his laugh and his little jokes. his looks, his demeanor, the way he’s not scared when she nips at him instead either remains unaffected or nips right back… kind of everything about him, so far at least. “huh?” he asks, eyebrows raising. “nigga, if you can ‘huh’ you can hear. sit down and stretch with me,” she laughs.

ony likes the sound. a lot, he realizes. and her sass really tickles him. so why not? he shrugs, plopping down on the floor next to her.

“yoga’s more than stretchin’,” she begins. “yeah, it feels good for the body, but it’s good for the mind too. it’s a lot deeper than I can explain. it’s one of those things that’s been taken from another culture and kinda wiped of its authenticity.” he watches her as she talks with her hands, her caring a lot more about it than he expected. but he’s interested and following along with her words. “I try to respect it, y’know? it has a lot of benefits. can I touch?” she asks with a tilt of her head. he appreciates how her curls bounce with the movement and gives a simple nod of his head. “sit up straight,” she adjusts his back. “and keep your focus on your breath, keeping an awareness of your body as well. stay mindful of the present moment.”

the moment her hand touches him, he sits up. not because of her words but because of the feel of her hands on him. she’s gentle with her guidance, her touch almost hesitant and her voice has softened in a way that sends a slight chill down his spine. “sorry, are my hands cold?” she asks apologetically. “as fuck,” he answers with a laugh. “keep goin’ though.” crys laughs and pinches him softly. “aht, aht, I’m the teacher now, I give the directions. straighten out your legs.” ony rolls his eyes in response but follows her instruction. he mumbles a soft “yeah, aight.”

she gently bumps her shoulder against his at his sass. “lean forward and reach for your feet, curving your back. take a moment to center yourself, focusing on your breath and how your body feels. don’t think about anything, not even me,” she teases slightly. ony can’t help but smile at that. “you make it difficult, sweetheart,” he mumbles. her stomach flutters in response. he takes a deep breath before closing his eyes, reaching for his feet. “don’t forget to breath, nice and deep. relax your mind and let your thoughts fade away,” she mutters softly. “relax. really feel the peace and the stretch.”

oh, ony feels something, alright. but he focuses his mind on the way his muscles feel. he’s used to stretching, but the mental part has never been the most important aspect. he likes how quiet his mind is, how the peace envelopes him like a warm hug.

she guides him through several more positions, helping him to stay centered mentally. her voice is so soothing, her touch as she adjusts him doing things to him. he feels good. really good. the combination of the practice with her presence is something he intends to make sure he gets more of. she’s so cute with her little chides. a “stretch deeper, ony” here, a “you’re not even trying” there. and her obvious favorite, “you know you can do better than that”. actually, no, her favorite thing to say in reprimand is his name. it’s a pleasant hint of flirting and teasing mixed with gentle guidance and words of calm.

by the end of the night, ony’s hooked. before she can walk to the locker room, he gently grabs her wrist to get her attention. “hey, wait, ma,” he murmurs softly. she looks up at him with those eyes again and he’s suddenly parched. “can I get your number? you know, I can send you some boxing tips.” crys tries to fight a smile but fails. “oh, really? boxing tips? sure, long as I can send some yoga tips.” he laughs a bit, smiling at her tone. “yeah, send ‘em. gotta be on my namaste more, shit was nice.” crys tilts her head back slightly as she laughs. “boy, whatever. here.”

ᥫ᭡

crys is folding. real bad.

at first, she thought she’d just do some light flirting, maybe just tease and taunt and go on about her merry way. she didn’t have any intentions on really following through with the man because he just seems like a threat to her safe, protected little bubble of diy nails and chilling alone at home. but as time goes on, she realizes that she’s in a quicksand situation. swapped informational videos of boxing and yoga are just the beginning. soon, they’re texting back and forth. funny videos sent at way too late at night, a range of questions exchanged as they get to know each other, random voice messages that make her stomach tingle… she looks forward to speaking with him, even changes his text tone so she knows when it’s him.

he’s just so funny in such a simple, straightforward way. sometimes she bites at him and he doesn’t budge a bit, not giving her the satisfaction of a reaction. sometimes they go back and forth like a tennis match. he’s not afraid of her sass and she loves when he actually bites back. he’s just… attractive. in a lot of ways, on so many different levels. she ends up going to the gym late more often because he’ll be there, spotting her while she lifts and helping her with her boxing. ms. becca at the front desk seems to really not like it, but her non-working ass can move on somewhere. crys and ony start a routine that whenever she comes to work out with him, they grab food and sit in one of their cars to goof around. they even decide to power walk with mrs. etta every now and then.

it’s insanity to kt, though. she doesn’t understand why they haven’t ‘fucked each other like bunnies’ already and she reminds crys every time they talk. they’d scrolled his instagram together several times and he’s a popular topic between the two of them, three including kt’s boyfriend. he, of course, has a front row seat to these conversations since ms. kt never wants to use her damn headphones.

one particular night, crys is just really not feeling the workout. she’s more tired than usual and ony can tell. she’s not her usual, witty self. not a single jab has any bite to it, and it’s the same with her words. he doesn’t like it. she’s not supposed to be quiet or sad. he doesn’t like the distant look in her eyes and how she gives a weak smile at his teasing. “hey,” he murmurs. “go get changed and get your stuff.” he watches as she looks up at him with a furrowed brow. “you’re obviously not feelin’ up to it. we’ve done enough, let’s grab sum to eat.”

crys was going to push through, get her workout regardless. “nah, I’m good,” she shrugs him off. “no, you ain’t. quit playin’, it’s not a suggestion,” he grumbles back. that surprises her, but she guesses it shouldn’t really. one thing that she’s noticed is how good he is at reading people, and he’s really good at reading her now. he knows when to push, and has learned how to in several different circumstances. she guesses this is one of them. his tone is different than usual though. it’s set, no room for negotiations, no joking around. his eyes are focused and sharp in a way that almost even she doesn’t want to argue with. “…right. yeah, okay. I can go by myself though, you can finish your workout,” she mutters softly.

“what I say?”

crys didn’t need to be told again. his whole demeanor is looking more immovable than ever, eyes and tone telling her to get her ass to the locker room, basically. if it were anyone else, she would’ve fired back and asked who the hell he thought he was. but at this point, she’s too tired and she really doesn’t want to poke the bear. so she sighs and nods, grabbing her bag as she shuffles back to the locker room to get her stuff. she’s grateful, honestly, because as soon as she sits in the passenger seat of his car, she feels like she’s been hit by a bus but it’s really just a wave of exhaustion.

“you pushin’ too hard, ma,” he murmurs, his eyes on the road as he drives. he’s seen her energy decreasing over time, the spark in her eyes dimming. he’d slide a comment in or two about taking a break only for her to brush it off like it was no problem. she’s stubborn and he knows that, but fully capable of taking care of herself, which is why he wasn’t expecting it to get this far. she’s drained and he’ll be damned if he just stands by and watches her continue down this path. especially with the way her head is leaning against his window. usually he’d say something about her hair products getting on it, but he couldn’t give a damn about that.

“you been slackin’ and you know it. wassup?” he questions as he spares her a glance. she sighs, her eyes closing as he makes the familiar trip to their usual spot. “stress. I’ve just been stressed,” she answers. that much he could tell. it’s not really the information he’s looking for though. “mhm. why?” he presses. his voice is a mix of tenderness and concern but also firmness. he’s not going to let her brush this under the rug. “just a lot of shit goin’ on, ony. work’s a mess, they can barely do anything without me there they’re always arguing and never getting anything done. I’ve been looking for another job for months with no luck and it’s really starting to become a problem because I want to leave soon. and I don’t know, I just want to be in a different situation than I am right now.”

ony hums, rolling her words over in his head. he knows she’s been trying to leave her job, even sent her resume out to a few people he knows just to help out. he can understand her frustration, he was in a similar boat before he started his own thing and became a personal trainer. he gets it, the stress from working in a place that drains you and how so many job rejections can affect a person. “it’s alright, ma. I know that don’t mean much to you right now, but it’s gone work out, aight? I’ll put some pressure on my folks, help see what’s out there. you still got some pto right?” he asks. she sighs, rubbing her forehead. “yeah, but I’ve been saving it for a rainy day.” he could almost chuckle.

“it don’t seem like it’s rainin’ to you?” he pushes slightly. “take some time off. rest and relax so you can come back better. do yo yoga and shit, smoke some, whatever. you need a break, babygirl. no positive change is gonna come from you stressin’ and burnin’ out. it’s a three day weekend coming up, take the couple days before that off too.” she looks out the window as they pull into the drive thru. he’s right and she knows it. it’s just so easy for her to get swept up into the stress and lose herself a little bit more and more until she realizes just how close she is to burning out. she can feel tears gathering in her eyes from the stress.

“oh, pretty girl,” he mumbles, seeing the emotion in her eyes. he pulls off to the side and parks in the back of the lot instead of getting in line. “c’mere, crystal,” he croons, reaching an arm around her to pull her close. she sniffles and her shoulders shake as she cries into his shoulder, letting out what she’s let build up for so long. “s’okay, ma. you really doin’ good shit, providin’ for yourself and workin’ hard. it’s gonna work out, you gotta believe that,” he presses, squeezing her tighter. “but you can’t do this, okay? you can’t wither away like this. your health is important and if you neglect it, it’ll affect everything. I don’t like seein’ you upset and tired and drained. wanna see that pretty smile, get a taste of that sass that irks me so much.” she laughs slightly in his arms, her own wrapping around him as he gives her the most comforting hug she’s had in a while. “you’re right or whatever. big headed ass,” she mumbles.

“there she is.”

ᥫ᭡

after that night, she did exactly what he suggested. she took those extra days off and just recovered. smoked, slept a whole bunch, had a self-care day, and even booked a massage just for an extra treat. of course she talked ony’s ear off, and texted him and her best friend a bunch too, but it was necessary in her eyes. she knows they love her presence, even if they call her annoying. by her last day off, she feels rejuvenated.

she feels less stressed. she has a revamped resume, a mini twist out that’s cute and lets her leave her hair alone, new nails, and a new attitude. but… crys is running out of excuses to give as far as her and ony. his support that night meant more to her than he probably even knew. the way he held her, calmed her down, and comforted her… it’s something that’s been plaguing dancing in her mind. he’s shown that he can handle her full range of emotions no problem and can support her regardless of how strongly she feels. at this point, even she’s started to wonder why they haven’t done anything. she hasn’t made a move, no, but neither has he. he seems perfectly content with the way things are and is starting to become bothersome.

she can’t get him out of her head. his voice, his laugh, his features. every time he encourages her while she’s going at the punching bag, she wants to push the damn thing out of the way and just tackle him. when she can feel his eyes on her while they stretch, she wants to show him exactly what she can do and how her flexibility can blow his fucking mind. she wants to kiss him, touch him, hear those encouraging words that he gives her in an entirely different setting.

but his lack of action is causing her to overthink. is he not as affected as she is? does his heart not pound in her presence like hers does in his? how the hell is she the only one gnawing her lip at the thought of more? maybe it’s because she hasn’t had sex in so long. maybe that’s it. she’s just like this because of her wack ass sex life.

contrary to crys’ perspective, though, ony is losing his shit.

he definitely would’ve made a move by now if these were usual circumstances. he’s just so thrown off by how much he likes her, how much she makes him feel. she’s so much more than that pretty face and that mouth watering body. she’s funny, witty, and she packs a nasty ass punch both with her words and her hands. he likes the full range of crys. mouthy and annoying, intentionally trying to get a raise out of him. flirty and teasing, sensual in the way she draws him in. sweet and serene, almost like an oasis of calm and tranquility. oh, and he can’t forget how expressive she is with every emotion. her anger when her order’s wrong at the late night burger place they frequent, her excitement and joy when mrs. etta tells her about another good scan at the doctor, her sadness when she sees a sad tiktok during rest periods.

he just doesn’t get it. how can one person be so damn enthralling? how can someone’s quirks and flaws be so beautiful? he’s never felt pulled like this, but you know what? he’s fucking with it. she’s done nothing but add color to his life, a great addition that he felt like he was waiting for without even knowing. he loves her presence. she makes him smile and belly laugh, she pisses him off, she lights him up. he can be goofy with her, serious, sensitive even. he just wants more and more of crys, and even when he thinks maybe there’s nothing left to surprise him about her, she whips something new out of her arsenal. it’s just crazy how she has him by the throat but he’s happy to be along for the ride.

but he’s really wanting that ride to go somewhere. he’s always thought that it was crazy that crys is single, he just doesn’t understand it. in his eyes, she’s everything great in a woman. confident, sensitive, hardworking, sweet… annoying but in the best ways, enthralling, sexy as all hell.

when he’s ranting to eren about her for the nth time, the brunette raises an eyebrow at him and asks what’s taking him so long to ask her out. ony blinks. he thought they were… well, something already. but the sense that’s been chasing him for quite a while now finally catches up to him and hits him like a truck. he has to say something. do something. the unspoken thing doesn’t work for adults, and definitely not if he actually wants to keep her. is he an idiot? he wants to say no to his own question so badly, but he knows he would be delusional if he did.

so he quickly decides to get his shit together. the next time he sees crys, he’s asking her on an actual date, and that’s it. this whole thing could’ve been at a different point if he’d taken his head out of his ass and asked her out that first night he saw her in the gym. but it’s too late to try to change the past, and he can fix his mistakes in the present.

ᥫ᭡

unfortunately for ony, crys has a nasty attitude the next time they meet. her answers are short and snippy, and not in the usual, fun way. they had plans to go shopping together to buy mrs. etta a congratulatory something for completing her treatment, both having become extremely fond of the lady and being supportive of her on her journey. ony picks her up, being the gentleman he is (he hates her driving) and it takes no time at all to notice the bitter air around her. he actually realizes it the second she closes the door to her townhouse too damn hard. she huffs and puffs as she gets settled in the passenger seat.

crys doesn’t really know exactly why she’s so mad. it’s another one of those days where the stress has built up so quickly without her noticing, something that happens when her head isn’t fully in the game. she doesn’t want to take it out on ony, never means to, but something about knowing that he can handle that shit keeps her from being as mindful as she should be. “hey,” he speaks, his eyebrow raising at her lack of greeting. “hey,” she greets blandly. “what’s wrong, ma?” he asks, looking from her to the road as he pulls off. she just shakes her head. “thanks for picking me up,” she murmurs. “of course,” he responds.

he’s eyeing her every once in a while, trying to pick up on whatever he can. she’s fiddling a lot, tapping her fingers as she looks out the window. antsy? irritated? what is it, he wonders. but he’s not super fond of playing the guessing game, by now she should know that she can talk to him about any and everything on her mind and in her heart. he’ll listen, he’ll care, and he’ll support. hasn’t he shown that? “you lyin’ to me, ma. don’t like it,” he mumbles. she doesn’t answer and he really doesn’t like that. “what’s the issue, crys? talk,” he presses, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. this isn’t anything he’s used to from her. mouthy sometimes? sure. that’s nothing he can’t handle. but the silent treatment mixed with the tense attitude is not how he was planning to spend this time with her.

“nothin’, just tired.” she murmurs. his eyebrows furrow. “we can reschedule if you want,” he responds, understanding. “nah,” she says simply. she can’t explain it, she doesn’t really want to act like this. she’s just not exactly happy at the moment and the two seem to have very different vibes. guess that’s the theme, huh? she thinks. “mama, you not bein’ fair. tryna talk to you,” he mumbles. she rolls her eyes, looking out the window. “yeah, talk. your favorite thing to do,” she mumbles.

ony pauses, but only for a moment. “and that’s supposed to mean?” crys sighs, as if she’s really just over him. “nothing, ony, m’sorry. are we goin’ to macy’s or ross first?” she’s trying to deflect, and although ony’s not stupid, he lets her. maybe she just needs time, she can be like that every now and then. carrying around irritation from an earlier incident until it eventually fades and she’s good to go. sometimes she just needs to process her emotions, and ony’s cool with that. he’s cool with anything with her, it seems.

they end up at ross first, mrs. etta’s favorite store that she talks about when they power walk with her. they get her random things, little trinkets that remind them of her, lotions and candles, and a few decorative pieces for her house. they move to macy’s to get her a perfume she likes, and a few other random things that draw their attention. last is dollar.25 tree and a couple other craft stores, the mission being to grab a big basket and additional stuffing to make her a custom gift basket with a congratulatory card from both of them. crys is quieter than usual the entire time, but not necessarily agitated. it seems like shopping for mrs. etta is cheering her up.

seems.

once they get to her house, ony can tell by the way she groans as she flops onto her couch that she’s not a hundred percent. at this point, he’s confused and maybe a bit worried. what is it that has her so upset? he doesn’t like when she’s quiet, much rather her be loud and expressive with whatever emotion she’s feeling. it’s eerie when she’s quiet and ony can’t tell what she’s thinking or feeling. he doesn’t like to be in the dark.

“c’mon, ma, let’s go ahead and get this assembled. we can talk and smoke after,” he mumbles, moving to set the stuff down on her dining room table. he wants to sit and smoke, get her to shake herself out of whatever fucking funk she’s in, but he figures it’s a good idea to finish up mrs. etta’s gift. he really wants it to be perfect. he’s known mrs. etta for a while, she was even one of the people that encouraged him the most when he first started training, and he’s extremely happy that her treatment is done. a bratty sigh is heard from the girl on the couch and ony has to close his eyes to center himself. “we can’t take a break? all that shopping. m’tired.”

ony licks his lips and lets out a breath. “sure, ma, take a break. imma get started on this, I’ll chill after,” he responds. crys doesn’t like the little breath he takes, his tone coming across patronizing to her. “you tired of me? cause I can really do that shit by myself,” she responds lowly. she swears she can see a vein appear on ony’s forehead, but only momentarily. “nah. just want this gift to be good,” he mumbles. crys sits up to look at him. “it’s good already, we put a lot of thought into everything. what, you think I can’t assemble it myself?” her head tilts. because she could make the prettiest damn basket all on her own, really. she’ll prove it if she has to.

ony’s on the brink. he’s been patient all day— he’s always patient with her. it’s usually no issue, but today she’s really pushing it. mrs. etta should be the focus right now. “you don’t hear me talkin’ to you?” she asks, her eyebrows beginning to furrow. “yes, love, I hear you,” he murmurs. “just focused.” he’s really trying to keep it together.

crys scoffs, “yeah, well, you can focus and talk. you wouldn’t have to focus as much if you waited on me.” ony wonders what he did to be in this position. he hasn’t done shit to her, hasn’t said anything disrespectful, and he knows that she isn’t usually one to take her shit out on him, so he’s just thinking. wondering what has her so mad. “there you go again, not fuckin’ responding,” she huffs, standing up and crossing her arms. “you can just get the hell out forreal, I can finish this mysel—“

“sit the fuck down.”

crys blinks. and then blinks again. “excuse me?” she asks. she couldn’t have heard that right. he wouldn’t talk to her like that, he’s not insane. but the look he gives when he turns to her gives her second thoughts on that theory. “you heard me. sit the fuck down. I’m not leavin’ and you’re about to act like you have some fucking respect instead of poppin’ off at the mouth. I’ve dealt with your shit ask damn day, trying to be patient and understanding— like I always am with yo lil ass. I’m not playin’ crys. sit down,” he demands. and he really means that shit too, she can tell.

crys’ jaw is damn near on the floor by the time he finishes talking. “who you talkin’ t—“ she starts, only to be interrupted by a slow approaching ony, having put the materials he was working with down. “crys, I swear, if you don’t get some act right—“ he starts, trying to keep his breath even and his body calm. tired of being interrupted, crys decides to give him a taste of his own medicine. “what? what you gone do? talk my ear off? stand there and look at me with your arms crossed? I ain’t scared of you, ony. you don’t do shit and won’t do shit to me.”

“nah. I’ma fuck you,” he answers as he steps into her personal space. if crys’ jaw was on the floor before, it’s in hell now. there’s no way he just said that. “fuck that nasty ass attitude right outta you. you playin’ in my face, ma. you know I don’t like that shit. I’ve been so fuckin’ understanding with yo ass, somethin’ not every nigga is willin’ to do, by the way. you push and you push and I let yo ass. is that the problem?” he tilts his head, chest almost touching hers as he looks down. his eyes are dark, his jaw tense. the vein she thought she saw earlier is bulging now, almost angrier than ony himself. “is the problem that I let yo lil ass keep pushin’ me? cause I swear it don’t mean that I’ll just let the shit slide. and I’ll prove that shit too.”

ᥫ᭡

“fuck,” crys pants, tugging on the sheets in front of her. “please,” her voice breaks. “just— just lemme come. I’m so close, ony, please!”

she’s been on all fours for a while now, face buried in the bed as ony works her with his tongue and fingers. she’s in a pool of her own arousal, thighs wet and pussy drenched from the several times she’s been close to the edge, only to be disappointed each time as she’s denied her orgasm. her bottom lip is bitten raw, toes almost permanently curled and eyes finding a home in the back of her head as she pushes her hips back again and again to coax ony to at least let her have one. if she knew this was going to be the result of her attitude today, she would’ve just asked him to fuck her before they even left to go shopping. she’s waited enough for this, and even now when she’s so close, she’s getting denied.

there’s a harsh but absolutely welcome smack to her ass and she whines so damn pathetically that ony almost laughs. pulls his full lips from her clit with a pop and massages the cheek. “you want me to stop?” he asks, his voice low and raspy in a way unfamiliar to crys. she quickly shakes her head and grips the sheets tighter. “no, please! keep going, wanna come on your face,” she begs, pushing her hips to meet his lips again. the sound and sight of her is addicting, ony thinks. he likes the way she seems so desperate for his touch and tongue, craving that release that he’s been building up for so long. “you wanna come?” he asks, his fingers sliding back into her soaked pussy. he can feel her clench around him almost instantly. fuck he’s going to enjoy tonight. “yes! yes, wanna come!” she pants, rocking her hips to meet the thrust of his long fingers.

“then shut the fuck up and let me have my fun,” he murmurs, diving his face back in as his tongue meets her clit once again. “ah, shit,” she whimpers, her eyes rolling back again at the pleasure that washes over her. “yes, yes, just like that. fuck, you eatin’ my pussy up,” she moans. she’s never been so mad but so pleased at the same time. he’s torturing her and she doesn’t know how much longer she can last before she releases all over him without his say so. she’s already been through so much, she doesn’t want to find out what else he’ll do , even if it’s his fault. “my fuckin’ pussy,” he pulls back to murmur, flicking his tongue quickly over her pearl as his fingers continue to pump. she’s so wet, his fingers move with ease, and the sound that’s made is delicious. “say that shit.”

“fuck, I’ll say whatever you want,” she whines, back arching and toes throwing up gang signs. “s’your pussy, baby! take it take it take it,” she moans, throwing her ass back over and over. she’s so damn close, so damn close. she can almost taste it. her tummy feels like it’s about to burst and her poor pussy is sobbing. he pulls back once again to her dismay, reading her body like a book. “you betta not fuckin’ come,” he murmurs, fingers moving faster as they stretch her. how the hell is she not supposed to come? is he insane? “you fuckin’ kidding meee?” she whines, her head falling down onto the sheets. ony likes how spent she looks already, and he hasn’t even fucked her yet. “you know damn well I ain’t,” he grumbles, smacking her ass again. “arch that shit. it’s gone be a long night if you don’t listen to me, baby.”

in a turn of events, ony’s pussy drunk. he’s enjoying himself way too much, taking in her moans and slurping up what’s now his to pleasure. he’s just drowning in her, hands exploring everywhere he can touch. caressing, appreciating, adoring this beautiful woman falling apart on his tongue. he could do this all day and be grateful every second of it. he’s absolutely aching in his shorts, but something about bringing such a normally mouthy girl to babbles is too hard to turn away from. he didn’t even mean to take it this far, he just doesn’t want to stop. he wants her to keep feeling good, and the way she begs and reaches back for him to bring him closer lets him know that he’s doing his job

“please, I can’t,” she begs, back arching but breath deepening. “ony, I caan’tt, m’gonna come,” she whines. she’s trying, really she promises she is, but it’s just become too hard to hold out. it’s too good, she wants it and needs it. if he doesn’t stop or give her the green light, she’s gonna make a mess of both of them, and she’s not going to regret it. ony groans at her whines, basking in the sound of her begging and pleading. he can feel how she’s clenching, hears the desperation in her voice. she’s gone, melting into a pile of goo at his touch, and he’s never felt more satisfied. not only are they both having the times of their lives, but that attitude is just about gone and she’s actually acting like she has some fucking manners.

he reluctantly pulls back and removes his hand from her, licking at his fingers like a man starved. “flip over,” he huffs, standing and palming his aching dick. she seems to be too out of it, raising her head full of messy curls to look up in his general direction. “w-what?” she questions. ony doesn’t have time for her shit, so he grabs her hips and flips her over his damn self. the way he looks down at her is downright sinful and crys flutters simply at the sight. “fuckin’ bratty ass. you did this to yourself, crys. was gonna take you on a nice ass date, make love with your pretty ass, do shit the right way. but that fuckin’ mouth of yours,” he grumbles as he grabs her by her ankles, pulling her to the end of the bed. “is too damn bold with me. gotta fix that, sweetheart. you gone be my good girl after tonight, I can promise you that.”

she whines and grinds against his hand as his thumb traces circles on her puffy clit. looking down at her, he realizes that this is one of his favorite sights now. her eyes are blurry with tears from the constant denial, her face scrunched in a cute and sexy pout of pleasure, her tits shifting with each movement. ony could watch her like this all day, bringing her to the edge over and over just to see those pretty tears fall and hear that voice of hers crack. that’d only be torture for himself as well because he feels like he’s about to burst. “you so damn beautiful. you want this dick, sweetheart? tell me, I’ll give it to you,” he murmurs, licking his lips as he lets his shorts fall. crys whines and nods, unruly curls all over the place. so damn breathtaking.

“gimme it, please. wanna come all over it, baby. paint it for you,” she begs. her arms reach to hook around the back of her knees, pulling her thighs back slightly to open up for him. her words only serve to rile him up more. “you a lil freak, huh? mmm, you can do better than that, baby. stretch them legs like I know yo lil freaky ass can,” he grumbles, pulling his underwear down and off, his cock hanging low between his legs. crys knew it— she just knew it was big, and she was right. it’s long and thick with a minimal curve, and if she wasn’t so deprived she’d get on her knees and pay him back for the teasing. she whimpers and bites her lip, sliding her hands to hook behind her knees instead. she pulls her thighs flush to her chest and keeps going, extending her legs.

“fuck, yeah, baby, show me that pretty pussy. fat pussy all mine,” he grumbles. he lessens their distance, letting himself rest on her as he takes her in. what a fucking vision of a woman. he takes his dick in his hand and lightly taps it against her before her rubs himself all in her wetness. “look at ‘chu, baby. so fuckin’ sloppy. this all for me?” he asks, tilting his head as he looks back to her face. she goes to speak, but ony considers her next words unimportant in the grand scheme of things. before she can speak, she feels him start to press into her. she lets out a breathy moan, her grip tightening on her legs. “f-fuck,” she moans at the same time ony lets a groaning “shiiit,” pass his lips.

the two pant, looking each other in the eyes as he continues to press forward. crys is seeing stars, feeling the stretch of him. her face scrunches and her eyes begin to close. “mm-mm, keep them pretty eyes on me,” ony‘s breathing heavy , his hand coming to lightly wrap around her throat. “sexy ass. you bet not deny me that shit.” crys can only lick her lips, forcing her eyes open to meet his, clenching at the way he speaks. his words add to the growing fire within her. “there you go, baby. love that shit,” he murmurs, leaning forward to press his lips against hers in a nasty, sloppy kiss. crys is upset at the fact that this man is really bringing her to her knees. “so damn fine. don’t know why I waited so long to be in yo shit. too fucking good,” he groans, pulling out just slightly before pushing back in. crys gasps, pulling her legs closer just to have something to grab, but it just makes him go deeper.

“feels so good, onyyy,” she moans, keeping the eye contact as much as she can. ony’s hovering over her now, watching her with his bottom lip between his teeth and his eyebrows together in concentration. he’s moving slowly, letting her adjust to him and just taking in the view in front of him. “onyyy,” she moans, clenching around him as her pussy flutters. he’s so damn fine and it’s been so long since she’s been touched. he’s deep in her shit and she’s on cloud nine. she wants more, so much more, and she wants it all from him. she hates it took so long to get to this point and hates that she the fact that she stopped herslef from persuing him. she wants this, needs all of him. “fuck me,” she chokes out. “c’mon, please.”

“relax,” he mutters, his free hand rubbing up her thigh. “just keep that pretty pussy open for me. I’ma always give you what you need, sweetheart. always.” and he means it. he’s never going to play with her, not her heart or her mind. but he’ll play with her pretty pussy until the sun comes up, until the cows come home. he’s never felt anything so good, seen someone so beautiful while they take his dick. she’s everything to him in this moment, her curls sprawled around her like the sun’s halo, face showing all the pleasure she’s feeling. her breathing is deep, her eyes staying on his just like he said.

he’s fucked. shit, he might just be in love.

“ooo, fuck, ony,” she keens, her nails slightly digging into the skin of her thigh. “so big. oh my God, baby.” she’s having the time of her life. he’s stretching her so well, and he feels so damn good digging into her like that. ”yeah, yeah. been waiting for thisss,” she pants, unable to keep her mouth shut. it’s just so good and it’s hitting that spot. would could blame her? “give it to me,” she moans. ony groans above her, his hips starting to meet hers sharper and sharper. she’s still so vocal, and he’s eating it the fuck up. “mhm,” he breathes, his hands moving to rest on hers, helping to hold her legs as she falters. “take that dick, babygirl. s’all for you. swear it is,” he groans. she doesn’t know it, but she could ask for just about anything right now and he’d give it to her.

her eyes scan over him, her hand reaching out to lightly scratch down his abdomen. “fuckin’ me so good, ony.”ony groans at the touch of her nails, his gut tightening at the way she’s looking up at him. he pulls out, reaching down to tap himself against her again. she’s too much, her voice, her eyes, her touch… the way she keeps clenching around him. “you fuckin’ dangerous, mama,” he pants. “can I beat this pussy up, baby? lemme take it.” crys bites her lip and nods, looking up at him in a way that makes him grip her thighs a little tighter. fucking minx. he’s beating himself up for not doing this sooner. he adjusts himself on the bed, leaning down to press his lips to hers as he slides back in, the two of them moaning into each other's mouths. he immediately picks up the pace as he sucks her bottom lip into his mouth, nibbling slightly as he presses more of his weight onto her.

crys starts to gasp with each thrust, toes curling and a squeak escaping her when she feels his hands on her clit. “w-wait— fuck, wait, m’gonna come quick,” she moans, fingers gripping ony’s shoulders as he pins one of her thighs to her chest. she wants to come with him, but her earlier pleasure is coming back with a fucking vengeance. ony chuckles— actually chuckles, and rasps down to her, “that’s the point, sweetheart. give it to me.” if she wasn’t on the brink of a mind blowing orgasm, she’d be pissed and annoyed at that fucking smirk. but instead she pants and pants until her breath stops. her orgasm washes over her in delicious waves, and she’s just frozen in pleasure, unable to do anything but come and come, pulsing around ony.

“breathe, mama. come on, breath through that shit,” ony guides, pressing kisses up and down her neck. right, breathing. she forgot about that. crys lets out a long moan, her eyes rolling back as she tastes her sweet release. sweet isn’t even the word, though. the denial and delay just makes things ten times stronger, her orgasm wracking her in a way she wasn’t prepared for. she’s holding onto ony tightly as he talks her through it, breathing heavy as she just takes it. “yeaah, there you go. breathe, baby, I got you. gonna take real good care of you just like I said,” ony grumbles, nipping at her skin here and there and slowing his thrusts and his assault on her clit. he has to pant at the way she’s so tight around him, and he’s just so strained holding back good open release. “you deserve that shit, baby.” more kisses and nips than either of them can count are placed on crys’ neck as crys comes down and tries to calm down as well.

his hand reaches to gently caress her cheek as he presses soft, sweet kisses to the other. “you’re so beautiful, babygirl. you feel okay?” he asks softly. okay? she’s riding down a fucking rainbow of happiness and bliss. okay is an understatement. crys figures that would boost his who a bit too much, so she just tilts her head to rest on the side of his. “mhm,” she hums breathlessly. “so good,” she murmurs. ony’s glad, pressing more kisses to her sweet face. he’s happy he can make her feel good, especially considering how she was sarlier in the day. “good enough to gimme another one?” he asks. he just can’t get enough, so he has to ask. he wants this night to last as long as it can.

crys lets out a breath, wondering just what the hell is wrong with the man. she’s been through the wringer for a good while now. but it’s felt amazing every step of the way, so the answer is yes. of course it’s yes. she nods. “just one more, sweetheart,” he croons, looking down at her dazed face. he pulls out, turning her over onto her stomach, much gentler this time. he guides her on all fours and reaches to rest his hand on the headboard, his other hand positioning himself once again. once he begins to push inside, his arm wraps around her torso to hold her tight as they both moan. his hips start to move again, this time with a slower pace as he braces himself on the headboard.

ony can’t help but feel the shift on the room. it’s much more intimate than before, crys sensitive from one release already. he wants to be so many things for her. he can be a little aggressive, knowing she likes when he bites back. he can be goofy and unserious. and he can be soft. he can be serious with her and about her. that’s what he wants. “wanted this for so long, baby. wanted you,” he murmurs into her ear. the sound makes her pussy flutter, causing him to chuckle again. “sh-shut up,” she mumbles, her hands slowly tightening around the sheets below them. the combination of his intimate confession and his thrusting into her is a double whammy that she didn’t see coming.

“mmm, I’m serious babygirl. want you, been wantin’ you,” he presses, eyes falling shut as his hips continue to move. she feels so good, it’s ridiculous. he’s going to be in it every day if she lets him. “gotta make you mine, ma. I’m forreal.” and he is, because what kind of idiot would he be to let her slip through his fingers? crys let’s her head fall back in a moan as he starts to gently work her clit. everything about this is just insane. who knew what today was going to bring? “y-you never… ah,” she cuts herself off with a moan as he curves his hips, fucking her in just the right way in such an intimate moment. fuck, what was she saying? “I never said anything, I know. s’my fault, no excuse. I was just too busy enjoyin’ bein’ around you,” he murmurs, moaning as he holds her tighter. his hips are starting to move a bit faster and crys is starting to meet his every thrust.

“but you mine now, right? I’ma do— fuuuck, I’ma do right by you, mama. always,” he groans. he means every word. it’s like she has a spell on him and he doesn’t care. if she wants his heart, she can take it. he leans back from the headboard, sitting up on his knees as he keeps her back against his chest. gosh, crys’ heart just flutters. “yeah,” she moans. “yeah, ony, m’yours. f-finally.” that puts a tired smile on ony’s face, his already racing heart squeezing. with one hand massaging her clit and the other now on her hip, ony begins fucking into her faster. “that’s right, baby. and I’m yours. can’t get rid of me, can’t push me away, sure as fuck not scarin’ me away,” he groans. i’d important to him that she knows that, with her lil stubborn ass.

crys reaches back behind her, grabbing onto him. “yeah, j-just like that, ony. me and youuu,” she moans, feeling that familiar sensation again. her body’s almost tired of it after so much teasing and edging and repeating. “gonna come for you, baby,” she groans. she has no fight left, it’s going to rock her and she knows it. “you gonna come for me?” he asks, his voice coming out breathy as he continues to thrust into her. he doesn’t remember the last time he felt as good as he does in this moment. he doesn’t want it to end, but he can’t hold anymore. she’s tight around him, pulsing as her release approaches once again. “paint my dick, baby, just like you said. then I’ma give you this nut,” he huffs, working his hips more and more. crys is a moaning mess, her head dipping as she feels another strong orgasm approaching. “keep breathin’,” ony croons. “want you to feel all that shit, mama.”

she breathes as even as she can, breaths deepening as she quickly approaches that line. “ohhh, ony!” she cries out, her eyes squeezing shut. ” let it out, baby, give it to me. give me that shit,” he groans to her, working her clout faster and faster as he keeps pumping into her. it’s all too much and it brings her over the edge, her toes almost cramping and hips moving without her knowledge. “there it goes, keep breathing. fuck yeah, mama, take that shit.” it’s an intense feeling and she’s chasing it, breathing like ony directs and it makes the difference. she feels the shit down to her toes. her eyes are crossed and she can’t even fucking speak, just taking whatever comes as her eyes shut tight. “that’s it, baby, feel that shit. know you feel good, I know,” he pants.

ony’s fucking into her faster, the way she’s clenching around him making his head spin. his grip tightens on her hip as he chases his own high, watching her fucked out face. she looks so good like that, spent and satisfied and his. “fuuuck, you so gorgeous, crystal. gahdamn you feel good as fuck,” he rambles, praising her over and over just because he can and she deserves it. soon, he’s pulling out and pumping himself all over her ass, groaning as his body jerks. “yeah, ony,” crys coos with a raspy voice. she’s giving a tired wiggle of her hips, encouraging him to spill all over her. “fuckin’ perfect.”

the two pant, spent from such a lovely day together. it’s silent as they just back in the afterglow of their impromptu endeavors. eventually, ony starts to press sweet, calming kisses to her shoulder and back. he appreciates the small marks on her skin, random beauty marks and freckles. “perfect, mama. you were perfect,” he rasps. as far as he’s concerned, today couldn’t have been more successful. crys is… well, crys is out of commission at the moment. her mind is fuzzy in her post orgasm bliss, and she’s catching her breath as she basks in his kisses. “fuck…” she mumbles. that was very unexpected but completely welcome. the wait was more than worth it, and now she can have that again and again and again. “yeah,” ony chuckles tiredly. “yeah, that was crazy. damn.”

the two laugh together, gross and sticky, but so happy with the situation. that line was finally crossed, and there’s no going back. not that either of them would want to, anyway. ony glances down at crys as she rests for a moment, eyes closed and lashes tickling her skin. the earlier tensions are gone, nothing but fondness and connection in it’s wake. he reaches to caress her cheekbone, tucking a curl behind her ear and out of her face. “sorry for earlier,” crys mumbles into the quiet. she really is, she doesn’t like when she projects her upset like that. she nevers wants that for anyone she’s connecting with, especially not ony. he’s been understanding with her in a way that she’s learned to deeply appreciate. “but I’m glad we did this.”

ony hums, pressing another kiss to her shoulder. he can deal with a little push from her, especially since he gets to keep her. she’s a sweet girl, and she invigorates him. he appreciates her expressiveness and range of emotions, and understands that sometimes she’s just human. he’s okay with that. but now that they’re together, he has the ability to take a different approach. sometimes she needs him to snap back at her, and that’s what he’ll do with absolutely no hesitation from now on. there’s a mutual respect and understanding, and ony really fucks with that shit. “just needed some attention… and dick,” he murmurs. and he’ll give it to her whenever, wherever.

crys groans and starts to fuss, turning to weakly slap at his chest. “oh, shut up! go get me a damn towel!” here he goes saying some slick shit, right when the moment is good. he’s such an idiot sometimes, but it never fails to put a smile on her face. ony lets out a bellowing laugh, backing off of her and standing on his only slightly wobbling legs. he hopes she didn’t see that, but she’s already talking shit again. “yeah, pussy got you walkin’ crazy,” she sasses as he starts his trek to the bathroom, watching his sweaty but oh so fine figure walk away. ”better act right or you’ll never get it again,” she huffs. ony laughs again, shaking his head. “don’t make me start this shit all over, crystal,” he calls over his shoulder. she rolls her eyes but nuzzles her face into a pillow as she grumbles under her breath. she’s not scared, she’s just still recovering, is all. “yeah, that’s what I thought,” he laughs.

soon, they’re all cleaned up and on fresh sheets, crys refusing to sleep in the crusty bedspread after everything was said and done. they get into a spat about who gets to sleep on which side of the bed, and then over whether they should sleep with some time of light on. ony also demands to cuddle, but crystal fusses that she’ll get too hot and won’t be able to sleep. for that brief period, it’s war.

eventually, though, after bargains and begrudging compromises, crys is on her back on her usual side of the bed and ony is half-sprawled on top of her, head buried in her neck and hand softly rubbing her outer thigh. a random sitcom plays with no sound and the room is a nice, cool temperature with the fan blowing on the both of them. crys caresses ony’s back gently with her nails, eyes closed as she enjoys the weight of him on top of her. the pleasant feeling is like a weighted blanket, lulling her to sleep. ony is holding crys close, enjoying her warmth and presence. he’s taking full advantage of being able to cuddle with her. they fall asleep like this, wrapped up in each other, and wondering what the next day will bring.

hoooooly moooooly. this was not supposed to be this long. was hoping to post this sooner, but the words just kept coming omg. pls excuse any mistakes lmao. hope you like it! feedback welcome and wanted 🫶🏽

#this was supposed to be 5k words #how did we get here #aot onyankopon #attack on titan #onyankapon #onyankopon smut #black oc #aot x black reader #aot x reader #ony x black reader #onyankopon x black y/n #onyankopon x reader #onyankopon x you #writings — fic

134 notes · View notes