#me having to really stretch a reason why he should stop

[minkieater]

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

[just-wrting]

Think I Like You

Title: Think I Like You

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Half Mink!Reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Master List

Summary: You try to figure out why Zoro won’t take you seriously even if the answer isn’t what you expect.

A/N: I’m not dead! I’m just all over the place with a lot of stuff. I sleep a lot which I can’t tell if it’s a sleep issue or a depression issue, but I’m always tired. I still work full time but also do school part time now. Plus I’ve still got a boyfriend! But he wanted to end this weekend on 1062 which means Zoro brainrot for me.

You stretch and roll over, burying your face into your pillow. Ever since you changed where you nap, you've started sleeping so much better. Something about being more comfortable or something like that. The actual reason doesn't really matter. You're just happy you're sleeping better.

"You owe me for this."

"I don't owe you shit. Not my fault you nap in my spot." You reach up and pat his cheek. "What do I need to do for you to be quiet?"

"I already told you, you owe me."

You open your eyes just a little. "What could I possibly owe you? I don't like to drink, I don't keep money, not to mention I can't even tell if you're the type of man to be swayed by physical charms. What could I possibly offer you, Roronoa?"

"For starters, you can start referring to me by my name like everyone else does." He looks pissed. "You should fight me."

"You didn't take me seriously last time, Moss Head. Why would I bother trying again?"

He pulls on your ear. "I said like everyone else, not like how that idiot says my name."

You ignore him and bury your nose in his stomach. Dinner has been started, and if you don't ignore it you'll end up going to the kitchen early. It's less that Sanji minds seeing you, it's more of the fact that you struggle to suppress the urge to knock shit off the counter and dip your fingers in the sauces. Such is the life of someone like you.

You let yourself doze a little. You can still hear what's going on, but just like every common house cat, you ignore it. What you can't ignore is the gentle scratching behind your ears. As far as you remember, no one has done this since you were a kid. You don't hate the feeling, but you start to feel flustered over it. Ever since you left home, you've made sure affection comes at your own terms so you haven't had this in years.

There's no point in asking him to stop. You're clearly fond enough of him to nap on him, what's the big deal about getting ear scratches? Besides, he's the type to get embarrassed and loud if you point out you're awake. That's not something you feel like dealing with right now. You're too touch starved to complain.

Despite the comfortable conditions, you don't actually fall asleep. You spend the next forty-ish minutes pretending to sleep, waiting for dinner to be done. The time passes by relatively quickly, though you're sore afterwards. You couldn't bring yourself to even twitch, worried that he'd stop.

The dinner call goes off, and you pretend to wake up. You have no clue why you're acting, but it was too late to stop twenty minutes ago. Standing up, you stretch halfheartedly. At first, he doesn't say anything. It's only once he catches up to you that he starts asking questions.

"What's the deal with the noise you make?"

Raising an eyebrow, you look at him. "I don't snore, so I have no idea what you're talking about."

"I'm not stupid, I can tell you aren't snoring. The other noise, the one that's relaxing. I can usually feel it when you're laying directly on me."

"What do you mean? The other noise?" You pause to think it over before it clicks. "We aren't talking about that."

You know what he's referring to. It's not like it's something you can control, but it's still embarrassing. Of all people to be you around, it's been Zoro. No one on the crew has judged you for being what you are, it's just embarrassing to be a mix. Your mother's human, and your dad's a mink. You look decently human, just with a few quirks.

"What do you mean, we aren't talking about it? We're talking about it right now."

Your face starts to heat up. "I mean I don't want to tell you."

His eyes narrow in suspicion. "Why not? Is it supposed to be embarrassing or something?"

"If I say yes, will you drop it?"

"Yeah, sure."

His face instantly relaxes. If you could smack him, you would. The last time you tried, it hurt. So you put your hand on his shoulder and give him a push. The only thing it does is cause his other shoulder to hit the doorframe, but you use it to march past him.

You take your seat, leaning back against the armrest of the booth seat. Kicking your feet up on the space next to you, you watch the crew carefully. Everyone is smiling and in a good mood, so you don't have anything to worry about. You don't ever admit it, but you care about them even if it's difficult to show.

Zoro picks up your legs and lays them in his lap. Since it doesn't seem to bother him, you're tempted to just sit normally. You have no idea what's going on in that head of his, and you doubt he does either. However, you actually do enjoy touching him, so you'll stay like this for now.

There's more commotion as Sanji brings out the plates. The one you're most interested in is a large tuna fillet that gets set in the middle of the table. You can't stop staring at it, the tender flesh a beautiful golden color. It's hard to tell if it smells better than it looks or looks better than it smells. Sanji has never failed to impress you with his dishes, so you can't wait to sink your teeth in.

Before you can even start to load your plate, Sanji sets a small plate in front it you. It contains a disk of packed rice, some avocado slices, and chunks of fish. You're assuming it's more of the tuna. Whatever it is, it was made specifically for you.

You don't mind the special dishes. You'll try almost everything, and unlike Luffy, you'll eat it slow enough to give a review. Everything tastes good so you don't get the point, but it probably makes Sanji feel better to have honest reviews and not just someone who loves food fawning over his cooking. Though if you're not careful, you worry that he'll start having write an essay about it.

"And for you, a special tune tartare! If you like it, I'll make it again for everyone some time."

You nod. "Yeah, I'll let you know. I always do. Not that you've ever made a bad dish."

You can't stop the tip of your tail from flicking back and forth in mild annoyance. By the time you get halfway through the tartare, all of the fillet is gone. It's not like it's the biggest deal, you just wish you could've had some of that too. It's not fair that since you got a special tuna dish, that you don't get the other one.

"If you tell me what that noise was, I'll share," Zoro teases while pointing at you with a bite of tuna. "I bet you can't resist answering now."

"I'm a cat. I was making a normal noise that cats make. Consider it a compliment."

You lean forward and take the bite of tuna. It's flakey and melts on your tongue with a slightly sticky glaze that has hints of honey and garlic. You lick your lips savoring the balance of flavors. None of them are overwhelming, but it's hard to gauge in just one bite what you think about it.

"You can't just," Zoro stutters. "You can't just take the food off of my chopsticks. Get your own!"

You grab his wrist and lick the glaze off of the chopsticks. It feels like there's another flavor there that you can't quite tell what it is. It's some sort of herby flavor, that while you enjoy, you can't pin down.

"Here!" Zoro doesn't look at you as he shoves his plate towards you. "Just take it since I don't want your germs."

You want to tease him, but you'll leave him alone. It's better to leave it in front of other people since Robin's insinuations are becoming too much. For now you'll just eat the food. Later, you'll tease him.

—-

"You're still not taking me seriously, Roronoa. Why did you want to fight if you won't take me seriously?"

You lunge, hand reaching for his throat. He blocks it with his arm, causing your claws to dig into his skin. Using his arm as leverage, you pull yourself closer to him, swinging your sword at his side. His parry is effortless, and he looks bored. It's so aggravating that he won't take you seriously in a simple sparring match. Perhaps he'd take you more seriously if you actually tried to kill him.

You disengage before leaping over him. This time, you swing your sword at his neck as he turn around. It's once more blocked, and he smirks. You're just barely faster than him as he takes a halfhearted swing at your sword arm with his other arm. You catch the flat of the blade with your knuckles, steeling your arm against the shock wave of the blow.

Kicking your leg out in front of you, you aim for his knees, intending to bring him down. Despite the grip on his sword, he catches your ankle in his hand and pulls your leg to the side. You let your body pivot with the movement, twisting until your leg is behind you. You yank your foot forward as hard as you can, pulling him into your back.

He's quick to let your ankle go and grab your shoulder to steady himself. In a fluid motion, you swing your arm and grab your dagger. You flick it in your fingers and thrust towards his ribs. His hand trails down your arm to your wrist and pins it behind your back. He gives it a squeeze trying to get you to drop the dagger.

"Are you actually trying to kill him?" Nami tells from the side. "Are you stupid?"

You roll your eyes, sweeping your leg behind you and hooking Zoro's. Despite your efforts, you can't get him off balance, only causing him to take a step back. By now you're getting pissed off. You aren't a bad swordsman, it's just that this jerk is ridiculously smart in battle. This is probably the only time he'll use his brain all day.

You jerk your head back, hitting his jaw. The sound of the impact makes you regret it, knowing you'll feel like shit later. You manage to free yourself as he loosens his grip, and you elbow him as you twist back around. The only reason you're still going is because he won't take it seriously. It's like he finds it funny that he's able to fend you off so easily.

You rush towards him, tossing your weapons to the ground. Digging your claws into his shoulders, you use your momentum to knock him over. It only works because he's too busy rubbing his jaw to notice you in time. The two of you tumble to the deck, and you lean in as close as you can.

"Why won't you take me seriously? Is this just a game?"

Faster than you can blink, he's able to flip and pin you under him. He's even more smug than the last time you sparred, and you can't tell if you want to smack him or if you should kiss him. Not that you could smack him, he's got your hands above your head. While kissing him would let you win, you're not willing to fight that dirty in a friendly match.

"You're a brute, Zoro. You can't just manhandle the other crewmates just because you feel like it." Sanji pulls him off you. "If you were in the mood to fight I would've taken the offer."

You tune out their fight as Chopper checks your head and shoulder. You're a bit sore now, but you'll be fine in a few hours. Nothing keeps you down for long, even if it's usually just you going against the doctor's orders. The only thing actually bothering you is the fact that for a moment you thought he was going to answer your question. Though the fact you thought about kissing him is also an issue.

It's not difficult to figure out why you thought that way. Your parents made sure that you knew to find someone strong enough to protect you in case of something happening, even if you knew how to take care of yourself. That, and he's easy on the eyes. Even if he's an idiot half of the time, that doesn't matter. Your parents never said to find a smart man, just a strong one. Everything else was your choice.

Chopper hands you a damp towel, and you use to clean under your claws. Tiny spots of blood rest under them, probably from when you grabbed Zoro. If the pinprick wounds bothered him, he doesn't show it. He's too busy trying to shove Sanji off the boat. As long as you stay dry, it doesn't matter if they end up overboard. They can both swim.

After a few minutes, Nami separates them. You watch her glare at the men before you stalk off to take another nap. The sun is just starting to dip below the water, so finding a nice patch of sun to lick your figurative wounds isn't possible. You'll have to settle for sulking in some weird spot. Perhaps it's time to torment the fish in the tank once more.

Lounging on the sofa is probably the second best place to nap. The sound of the tank constantly humming while you watch the fish swim in tempting circles puts you at ease. You stretch out fully, let your arm and tail hang off the edge. The tip of your tails twitches slightly as you trace the movement of a particularly large bass. That should be tomorrow's lunch, perhaps in a stew. Even though it hasn't been long since you had food, your mouth starts to water at the idea of seafood stew.

"He really doesn't take you seriously, does he?"

You recognize Robin before she even speaks. Her stride is longer than Nami's with her steps being lighter than everyone else's. Not to mention she smells floral. It's never overpowering, but it allows you to pick her out from the crew.

"I guess not. Maybe I should've gone for his other eye."

She laughs, sitting down next to you. You aren't opposed to the company, especially if it's Robin. There something about her that puts you at ease.

"I don't think he'd like that," she muses. "What did he say to you?"

You scoff. "He didn't say anything. Bet he's too proud to take me seriously, like the jerk he is."

Robin smiles knowingly. "I'm sure he has his reasons. Maybe you should talk to him, just the two of you. I'm sure he'd tell you when no one else is around."

You frown. "What is he? A shy school boy? There's only one reason for not taking me seriously in a fight, and it would be him not thinking I'm even worth it. No point in having him tell me that in private, he can just keep it to himself."

She reaches out her hand, gently brushing your hair from your eyes. "Then what do you think about him?"

"I think he's an idiot who swapped out his brain for more muscles."

"Let me rephrase that. What feelings do you have about him?" There's a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "At least figure that out."

You shift so you can place your head in her lap. "I guess he's fine most of the time. I don't know why I enjoy his company, I just do. He's never really pushed me on anything, just sort of letting me do my own thing. Not to mention he's comfortable. As much as I hate admitting it, I suppose I like being around him."

She continues to brush your hair with her fingers silently. It's one of those tactics of hers. She'll stay quiet until you keep talking.

"What do you want me to say? He's nice enough to me, I can respect him as vice-captain, and he's decent looking. Everything else I think about him is my little secret." You're starting to get irritated talking about him. "Actually, I think I'll go talk to him now. I'll drag that answer out of him if I have to."

Robin looks at you with worry as you sit up. "Perhaps this is just a misunderstanding. What are you going to do if his answer isn't what you expect?"

"I'll deal with it when it happens," you say with a shrug. "It's not like it'll be anything surprising."

You take your time wandering around the ship. It's not hard to tell where he is, you'd rather put it off for a little bit longer. This weird feeling in your chest has been bothering you a lot lately. It can't be ignored anymore, but that doesn't mean you're one hundred percent ready to admit it.

Thankfully, he's exactly where you knew he was. You won't tell him that you enjoy finding him when he's working out. Something about him being shirtless is nice. Not that he usually bothers with wearing a shirt, so you can usually just stare whenever you want. Maybe he just likes the attention, and you'll gladly give it to him.

As soon as he leans back on the bench, you sit on his lap and stretch out over his torso. You rest your chin on your hand, pressing your palm on his chest. Watching as he sets the barbell back on the stand, you wait for him to start talking. It would be fine with you if he kept working out, but he seems opposed to the idea.

"Is bothering me amusing to you?"

You tilt your head slightly. "You're not cute when you're mad, so no. I was just hoping we could talk."

"You don't have to sit on me to talk."

"That's just personal preference. Besides, you tend to avoid talking about certain things and this keeps you from leaving." you say with a Cheshire grin. "I enjoy your touch, so this is ideal for me."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Zoro looks away from you. “You keep saying weird stuff.”

You don’t even blink as you respond, “I enjoy your touch. That’s what that means. I’ll even be nice and tell you the answer to your question from earlier. As a cat, I sometimes purr when I feel comfortable and content. Though some cats purr when scared.”

“So you’re scared of me? Is that what that means?”

“No. The only thing particularly scary about you is the fact that you’re an idiot.” Your ears twitch. “But since I answered your questions, you can answer mine. Why don’t you fight me seriously?”

He looks at you for just a moment, before looking at the ceiling. It’s like he’s embarrassed by the answer and is hoping you’ll forget about it. However, you’ve already made up your mind about what you want. You’re just waiting to see what he’ll do.

“I-,” Zoro cuts himself off to hide behind his hand. “I could hurt you really bad. That would be bad.”

Your tail swishes on the ground in mild irritation. “So you think I’m incapable of defending myself. That would explain the times you’ve interrupted my fights.”

“It’s not that!” He sits up, wrapping an arm around your waist to make sure you don’t tumble to the ground. “I don’t want you to get hurt if I’m around. It’s my job to make sure you’re safe.”

You’re nose to nose with him now. Even at this distance, he can’t seem to make eye contact. You can smell the liquor from dinner on his breath. It would be so easy to close the gap and kiss him, but for some reason the thought makes you nervous. You’re usually close to him, so why is this time different?

“Why should you keep me safe?” you mumble. “Do you save me out of obligation for the crew? If so, aren’t there better people on the crew to swoop in and save?”

“Does it matter why?” The way that his lips almost touch yours as he speaks makes you flustered.

You close your eyes. “Yes. I don’t want to get my hopes up if you think of me as nothing more than a burden of a crew-mate. Just be honest with me for once, Zoro.”

You don’t regret the soft begging tone as you say his name. You regret not saying his name in that almost pathetic tone sooner. The way that he kisses you makes your head spin. Even though he’s holding you close, you have to wrap your arms around his neck to make yourself feel more steady.

Zoro kisses you like he’s been wanting to for months. His hold on your waist makes it impossible to move, and the way that his hand grips yours hair makes you moan. You can barely breathe as his tongue explores your mouth, your grip on reality slipping as his fingers dig into thigh.

Even when he pulls away to let you breathe, you find yourself lost in the way he touches you. Sloppy kisses trail down your jaw and neck, coming to an end with his teeth on your collarbone. The way that his fingernails scrape gently against your scalp as he tugs lightly on your hair causes you to expose more of your chest to him as you lean into his palm.

You’ve never felt like this before. Hot, heavy, and breathless all while being lightheaded. You wouldn’t have it in you to resist him if he wanted more. In fact, the pathetic words of begging him to ravish you weigh heavy on your tongue. Yet he just continues to press kisses along every inch of skin exposed to him, ignoring how hard you’re panting as little moans escape you. He’s oblivious to everything but the act of kissing you.

Zoro only pauses after you tug his hair harshly. You didn’t mean to, you couldn’t help the reaction to him biting down on the side of your neck. You couldn’t even help the strangled groan that leaves you as he leaves a mark. For some reason, your body is shaking like you have some sort of withdrawal.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice rough and low.

You kiss him again, desperate to get as close as you can. Desperation courses through your body as you realize just how badly you’ve waited for this. You’ve spent months being almost attached to him so it makes sense, you just can’t figure out how you missed it. The long nights spent curled up in his lap, face buried in his neck has left you craving him so much.

You whine as he pulls away, unwilling to let this stop. It doesn’t even matter anymore how prideful you’ve been up until this. It’s so obvious how much you want him. Nothing could hide it anymore.

“Zoro.” You don’t even open your eyes. “Please.”

He gives your thigh a tight squeeze as you whimper. You can tell that what little restraint he has is fading with each whine of his name. Yet he’s able to pause and hold you close, breathing heavily into your ear. Eventually, he covers your mouth with his hand, stifling your words.

“Not like this,” Zoro says, his tone meaning he’s serious. “If you really want it, I want to make it special.”

“S-special?” You don’t know what that means. When was the last time someone told you that you were special? “How?”

“Just better than in the exercise room on the Sunny. You deserve to be treated better than that.”

You nod, and he lets his grip loosen. Despite the fact that nothing much happened, you feel drained. Maybe it’s because you really enjoy naps, but the exhaustion is hitting you hard. You don’t hide it, letting yourself go limp as Zoro picks you up.

“You can sleep in my bunk tonight. Not that it matters if I say you can as you usually show up anyway.”

You caress him jaw before giving his cheek a kiss. “Thank you, Zoro.”

The flush on his cheeks goes unnoticed by all beside you. Not that it matters, you don’t want to hide your feelings for him any longer. If he agrees to it, you’ll parade your feelings for the world to see.

[chaosburning]

a smile comes easily to his lips. " i'm sure he'd love to hear that. " maybe he would. maybe the rest of the club would after all the denying alexis did on a constant basis. tig seemed to be the worst, reading into actions that were just between friends. right? or had he really been so blind to what was right in front of him?

jordan sitting in his lap clearly screamed that he'd been an idiot this entire time. the way all his blood instantly rushed between his legs was another indicator he'd been fighting just a little too hard over a certain set of emotions. part of him had a hard time believing anyone would look at him that way. another part always tried to rationalize that someone good and wholesome from the diner couldn't possibly want any part of the life he led. it was violent and messy at the worst times. at the best of times? it was family; loving and whole.

although, lex was starting to forget what that felt like.

at some point, both his cut and t-shirt fell to the wayside. a kiss presses to the center of jordan's chest followed by a graze of teeth over one of her bra cups.

" probably? fuck. i'm sorry. " is a whisper chased by another deep kiss. " i don't want to stop but with everything that just happened i don't.... " lex leans forward to kiss the middle of jordan's forehead. " want you to get hurt again. "

his hands on her thighs have jordan letting out a warm chuckle in his ear, rocking her hips again to see if she could elicit the same response. she knew she was playing a dangerous game if she wanted to take things slower, but it felt so good, and he was canting his head to the side, encouraging her.

"too bad. tell jax i said you're occupied." oh, if only it could be so easy to pull him away when he needed a break, but she knew that samcro would come calling and lex would go with her doing nothing but wishing him well cause that's who he was and she had no desire to change that.

"although i suppose i could find something to do in that big bed all by my lonesome..." calloused fingertips meet warm, smooth skin as his hands drag her t-shirt up with their movement and for a moment, she thinks she should just give in, let him push the fabric over her head and let them come together the way they both clearly want, but it also occurs to her that she might have to be the voice of reason between them.

"do you want me to stop?" great, cause that sounded really confident there. "we should stop, right?"

[verareids]

feel the same - s.r. x bau!reader

spencer misunderstands a conversation he overhears between reader and derek. tags/cws: misunderstandings, confessions of feelings, use of 'y/n', gn!reader, fluff, mild angst, derek morgan has big brother energy wc: 1708 (much longer than I thought lmao) a/n: I'm truly obsessed with season 1 spencer as of late so I HAD to write a fic with him in mind. <3

also posted on ao3

“You know Pretty Boy likes you, don’t you?”

Spencer had been trying to get some sleep on the flight back after working a case that had drained all his energy when the sound of Morgan’s voice caught his attention. Without opening his eyes, he knew exactly who he was talking to. Spencer had never outright admitted to anyone that he had developed feelings for you but it was getting harder to deny. Once Derek had started pointing out the way he’d look up when you entered a room or the way his eyes lingered as you walked away, he was becoming concerned that this crush was more obvious than he’d like it to be. 

He’s been trying to ignore it, telling himself it’s unprofessional when really it’s because he believes there’s no way you could possibly feel the same. There’s a myriad of reasons why he wished Derek would keep his big mouth shut but honestly – that was probably the biggest.

“Likes me? How old are we?” The smooth sound of your response makes Spencer smile to himself in spite of the current situation. 

“(Y/N), come on…” Derek chuckles and is immediately met with a long stretch of silence. Spencer can picture the death glare he knows he’d see on your face if he were to look at you in this moment. “Look, you know he’s never gonna ask you out himself so maybe you should just–”

“Derek.” You interrupt with an evident sternness in your tone. “I’m not having this conversation with you. I’ve told you, it’s not happening.” Ouch. Spencer had never allowed himself to dream that you would reciprocate his feelings but he definitely wishes he had been asleep for that one. With that, he forces his eyes shut tighter than before and takes in one deep, slightly shaky breath and decides to try to go back to sleep, if only so that he doesn’t have to hear you reject him even harder.

~

Spencer wakes up as the jet is landing and he quickly gathers all of his things, walking out and across the strip with much more urgency than usual. This detail doesn’t go unnoticed by you, not much does – especially where Spencer is concerned – and you make a mental note to check in with him later. He had caught your eye the first day you met him which must be, what? Half a year ago now? And he had been on your mind ever since. You had bonded quickly as friends, being the two youngest members on the team. About a month ago you had finally allowed yourself to acknowledge the fact that you had developed feelings for him. You’d sit next to him at any given opportunity, listen to his infamously long rants much longer than anyone else would, spend just a little too long staring at his lips as he talked you through his theories. It didn’t take long for people to notice. Elle had her suspicions, JJ made a comment every now and then, but Derek – he wouldn’t let it go. He teases you about it constantly. You haven’t given him the satisfaction of admitting it, you haven’t been able to deny it either.

When you eventually make your way into the building along with the rest of the team you notice that Spencer had already left. It’s only then you start to be concerned. It’s unlike him to leave in such a hurry, even more so to not even say goodbye. You rack your brain trying to come up for a reason for this strange behavior. Is he sick? Upset about something? Was it you? You begin to go over every interaction you’d had with him recently when you have to stop yourself before you spiral. He’s just tired. If it was serious he’d tell you… right?

~

The next morning you walk in to find Spencer at his desk working on the report he didn’t write last night before he had basically ran away.

“Morning, Spence!” You greet him, making an effort to sound cheerful as you lean on his desk. He doesn’t look up, like he’s trying extra hard to look busy.

“Morning, (Y/L/N).” He replies without looking up. His tone seems normal, his use of your last name is what sounds the alarms in your head.

“Hey… are you feeling alright?” You ask tentatively, not wanting to pry too much in case you really had done something wrong that you clearly weren’t aware of. “I noticed you kind of left in a hurry last night.” He finally looks up and meets your eyes, easing your nerves slightly. His eyes shift away and then back to yours before a soft smile graces his lips, one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“I’m okay.” He responds after a while in a way that sounds like that’s not all he wants to say. You go to reassure him, make sure he knows he can tell you anything, but stop yourself when you notice the way he tenses when you place a hand on his shoulder. Retracting your hand quickly, you begin to fidget with your fingers before running them through your hair nervously.

“Spencer… I–” You start and stop and Spencer feels a little guilty as you seem to stumble over your words anxiously. “Is it me? Did I do something? Because if I did I–”.

“(Y/N).” Spencer cuts off your panicked rambling. You take a steadying breath as he slowly rises to stand in front of you, your eyes trailing up when he towers over you. He looks around the room and sighs before focusing back on you. “Can we go somewhere to talk?” You nod and begin walking towards a storage room with Spencer following close behind, quickly checking that there's no one in there before stepping inside.

“What’s going on with you?” You break the silence as Spencer closes the door behind him. “You know you can talk to me about anything.”

“I’m sorry if I’ve been acting weird.” You notice the way he dodges the question. He can’t meet your eyes anymore, his gaze shifts around the room and he smiles awkwardly at you.

“Spence, that’s not–” You interrupt yourself, trying to find a way to put your thoughts to words without overwhelming him. “I only want you to be okay. You’ve been acting differently since last night… If there’s something going on I want to be there for you.” When you say that he smiles sadly. He looks down in thought as if he’s considering something.

“I heard you talking to Morgan…” He mumbles, still staring at his feet – wringing his hands together. You furrow your brows in confusion. Talking to Morgan? “On the jet on the way home…”

“Oh.” This isn’t happening. You figure you should’ve known Derek’s relentless teasing would be your downfall. He must know you like him now. There’s a reason you never wanted him to know how you felt. You couldn’t stand the thought of anything ruining your friendship. Spencer visibly deflates even more in front of you at your lack of response. You begin scrambling to come up with a way to get out of this horrifically embarrassing situation.

“Look, I– I didn’t mean to make this awkward…” Oh god. The way he’s stuttering and tripping over his words. You stare blankly at him, then duck your head, bracing for the impact of his rejection. “It’s not like I thought you would feel the same way I just–” Wait what? Your head snaps back up to see his face, eyes widened, which seems to startle him a little. “I wasn’t going to say anything but I guess I just got really in my head about it.” He begins to look a little panicked. “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, I’m sorry if I did.” You just keep staring up at him, mouth agape in disbelief. “(Y/N)?” He says your name with a sad desperation and it reminds you that you should respond.

“Sorry, I–” You say slowly while shaking your head. “Are you saying that – Do you like me?” Now it’s Spencer’s turn to look confused, but it was all starting to make sense to you. You had thought he was acting weird because he had found out about your feelings, when in reality, it was the other way around.

“Yes?” He replies hesitantly.

“I like you too.” You say simply with a shy smile but Spencer looks completely taken aback. 

“You do?” The way his eyes light up with a subtle excitement was adorable. Soon after, that look was replaced with skepticism. “But I thought— you told Morgan you didn’t like me.”

“I told Morgan to stop teasing me about you because I didn’t think this…” You gesture between the two of you. “Was ever going to happen.” Spencer let out a sigh of relief and smiled bashfully.

“You could have just told me.” You feel his eyes scanning your face as if he were still looking for proof that you weren’t messing with him.

“You didn’t tell me either.”

“I thought there was no way…” You make eye contact as he trails off in thought. “I guess it doesn’t matter now.” Spencer takes a tentative step closer to you but doesn’t move to touch you in any way, so you reach out to take his hands in yours, lacing your fingers together.

“Well… maybe if we don’t have to fly out for a case today, we could go to dinner tonight?” You’re staring down at your intertwined hands, squeezing once before looking back up. When you see his face he’s still looking down with a big dopey grin on his face and you can’t help but smile right back.

“Yes— definitely.” You giggle at his obvious enthusiasm. 

You both stay in the storage room for another couple minutes, mostly just staring starry eyed at each other. Eventually you both decide that you should get back to work. You try to hide whatever was now going between you as much as you can but like always, Derek Morgan figures you out within minutes and he, along with the rest of the team, teases you relentlessly. (You wouldn’t have it any other way.)

[shadow4-1]

I'm just imagining using a secluded space on base to do some yoga away from the 141, only to realize Ghost's been watching disapprovingly the whole time.

Like, what you lack in raw strength compared to the boys, you have in agility. You're not nearly as rigid. You're flexible, and it's only because you take the time to work on it. You have several methods but dancing and yoga are by far your favorite.

Neither hobby you can enjoy on base much, because well...you always get stared at. So, you take it upon yourself to clear out part of old studio space used for storage. It's kind of crappy, with cracked tile and dust bunnies galore, but it'll do. You play some music in your earbuds and do your beginning stretches on your mat.

When you're in the zone you're in the zone. You end up in a place far away and yet still within yourself. The burning stretch from some of your maneuvers feels so good you nearly groan. You get lost in the personal meditation. One certain position uses a specific pair of muscles in your lower back. It takes you a moment to realize why it makes you gasp. You bite your lip and decide to take a short break.

As you untangle your body you feel something's off. You're physically fine, but your heart starts to race. Your stomach lurches. You move to stand, suddenly startled by seemingly nothing.

"Yer doing it wrong."

And just like that Ghost makes himself known from behind a shelf. He's in his workout clothes, which isn't much but some slinky basketball shorts and a tank top. Black of course. His mask is the soft one he uses when he's not on the field.

You scoff at him, still feeling on edge but also relieved at no immediate threat.

"You do yoga?" You ask incredulously. "Fine, big guy. Show me how it's done."

He rolls out a mat and gestures for you to copy him. It's a simple move, one you've perfected. And yet he still shakes his head at your form. You try it again. Wrong. Again. Wrong.

"Where am I going wrong?"

You don't expect him to reach over and grab your back leg. He pulls it out further. You stumble and he rights you with the same arm. He tuts at you, but he's the reason you're off balance.

"Lift your back. No. Higher. Your hip should be down."

Next thing you know he's behind you, his large hands making your body twist and bend. You end up in the same position as you'd been in earlier, but this time you can really feel the stretch. Maybe he was right, you were doing it wrong.

You tilt your back up and feel the familiar stretch. It's better than you've ever been able to get it on your own. You can't help the soft groan that leaves your lips. The last time those muscles had been used was before you joined the 141, when you'd still had a boyfrie-

Two hands grab at those spots. Large thumbs work circles into the areas. Despite yourself, you moan. This was going a bit too far but...

The more he kneads the more you fall to your knees. You can't hold the position with your back up anymore. You practically collapse onto the mat, ass up, Ghost knelt over you.

He still doesn't let up. His thumbs dig into those circles hard enough it should hurt but instead you only feel bliss. You bite your lip, it feels so fucking good. Eventually he relents, and stops digging into you. You whine at the absence.

"That feels so good." You groan, voice sounding way too needy for what just occurred.

"M' glad." Ghost huffs amusement evident in his tone.

Ghost grabs you and flips you over onto your back. He grabs one of your legs and pushes it as far forward towards your head as he can without hurting you. He does the same to the other. It's a weird position, but it's not far off from some of the other ones you're used to. It burns but it also feels good. Considering you're flat on your back, you feel supported.

You smile up at him, a little breathless but also happy that he's willing to help you out. Yoga did not seem like something any where near his wheelhouse.

"I didn't know you liked yoga. How did you learn about this stuff?" You ask, using your own arms to hold your legs in position as Ghost gets up higher on his knees.

Ghost huffs behind his mask as he looks down at you. He narrows his eyes, his head blocking out the white light of the overhead flourescents. You feel a hand slide between the material of your shorts and the curve of your ass.

"The Kama Sutra."

[navybrat817]

Alpine have seen unspeakable things

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMkAu7W81/

Bahaha. Poor Alpine. She certainly has.

Corrupted Cuddles

Pairing: Roommate!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: You want to cuddle with Bucky and Alpine tells you exactly where you should sit.

Word Count: Over 1.2k

Warnings: Fluff, pet names, teasing, humor, sugary sweetness, inner monologue, established relationship, referenced smut, Alpine has seen some things, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: The TikTok video was too funny and right up Stud and Smartie's alley. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Today was a day for cuddling since it was cold outside. You had no reason to venture out into the world and leave the comfort of your apartment, unless you wanted to use it as an excuse for Bucky to warm you up once you got inside. But you didn’t need the excuse. If you told him you were cold, he’d warm you up right away. He may call you out on the fact that you feel perfectly fine, but he’d still keep you close before he loves having excuses to cuddle with you, too.

“Okay, Stud,” you called out, wiping your hands as you finished up the last chore on your checklist. “Get ready for some cuddles.”

He chuckled from the living room. “Why do you say that like it’s a warning?”

“Because it is a warning,” you smiled, grabbing drinks for each of you, too. “You are going to cuddle with me, and you are going to love it.”

“I have abso-fucking-lutely not doubt I’ll love it, but there’s just one problem with your plan,” he said.

You paused before you went into the living room, an eyebrow raised as you took in the sight of Bucky laying on the couch. He looked comfortable, and your beautiful harlot of a man had no shirt on because why would he? You had to blink a few times to focus. “And what exactly would that problem be so we can come up with a solution?”

Cuddling was going to happen. Couch, floor, bed, it didn’t matter. And he knew when you had your heart set on something, that was that.

He nodded to the ball of white fur between his thick legs. “Alpine demanded cuddles first, and I don’t know if she’ll move if I ask,” he teased.

You smiled as Alpine lifted her head to look at you. Bucky could easily get her to move. “Maybe I could try asking?” you suggested.

“Be my guest,” he smiled.

“Hey, Al,” you smiled, reaching down to scratch behind her ear. You really did adore her. “I don’t want to interrupt, but is there room for me to get some cuddles, too? Please?”

If she didn’t move, you’d wait your turn. She was Bucky’s girl first, and you were lucky she accepted you as quickly as she had. You also knew Alpine loved you just as much as she loved Bucky. You liked to believe in her eyes that you two were her mom and dad.

With a gentle meow, she stood up stretched, but didn’t move from her spot.

“So, is that a no on the cuddles?” you asked as Bucky tried not to laugh. He was enjoying the little show. “Well, if I can’t sit in your spot, where should I sit?”

Alpine stared at you with knowing eyes before she turned her attention to Bucky and gently placed a paw on his crotch.

There was dead silence in the apartment. Surely she didn’t… “I’m sorry, I should sit where?”

Alpine put her paw there again as your mouth fell open. Bucky, on the other hand, smirked, his blue eyes sweeping over you. “You’re right, Al. Smartie should sit right there,” he said, nodding to his crotch. “Well, she gave you her answer. Take a seat.”

“What the… What? Did you teach her that?!” you asked. Bucky just laughed more, his shoulders shaking. “You did, didn’t you? And if you didn’t, we clearly corrupted her!”

You thought Bucky was going to stop breathing for a moment. “Yes… our… poor pussy got corrupted,” he joked. You felt like you set yourself up for that. “And I won’t confirm or deny. She’s just a very observant cat.”

Waving a hand at him, you were having a hard time not laughing, too. “Okay, you are no help,” you said, looking at Alpine again. She was observant. “Al, where does Stud like to sit?”

Leaping off the couch, she made her way over to Bucky’s chair where he usually sat to read. God, she really was smart. She could take over the world one day.

“Okay, now where does Smartie like to sit?”

“Did you just refer to yourself in the third person?” Bucky asked.

“Shh. You are once again not helping,” you replied. And Alpine once again didn’t hesitate to go back to Bucky and put her paw right in his lap. God, she knew. Would the gang believe you if you told them what was happening? Probably. They wouldn’t be surprised either. “Okay, where else do I like to sit?”

“I don’t think-”

You about fainted when the cat moved up and firmly put a paw against Bucky’s lips.

Can I get to hell for corrupting a cat? Wait. No. This isn’t my fault. I will not burn for this.

“Okay, so…” you huffed when Bucky grabbed his left pec, his laughter ringing out again. You swore you saw Steve laugh like that recently. “She knows I like to…”

“Sit on my cock and on my face? Clearly,” Bucky smiled, nudging the cat to move and reaching for your hand. “But I thought that was just common knowledge after we got together.”

Your cheeks got hot. Yeah, you and Bucky went at it like bunnies some days. And yeah, Alpine had certainly waltzed around the rooms at various times when your man had you bouncing on his cock or taking a seat on his face. It just happened.

“Yeah, well, that’s because…” Bucky leaned his head back and licked his lips as he waited for you to continue. “Not to stroke your ego, but you have an amazing cock and mouth, and you’re the one who always wants me to sit on them!”

Bucky was so good to you that he didn’t care about the times you hadn’t perfectly groomed yourself. He wanted you, and that was that. It was a good feeling.

“Yeah, I want you to sit on them. And please, continue stroking my ego,” he encouraged, pulling you into his lap. “And when you’re done you can stroke my-”

You clamped a hand over his mouth. “Alpine has already been corrupted enough,” you said, removing your hand and trying not to moan when he settled you over his bulge.

“Pretty sure she was corrupted before we slept together,” he told you. “I jerked off one night and said your name and I’m pretty sure she slept by your door the next day to make sure I behaved.”

“You jerked off to the thought of me? That’s so sweet,” you smiled. And hot. Having a gorgeous man like him stroking himself, saying your name…

“You know I have and ‘sweet’ isn’t the word that comes to mind. Now will you please take a proper seat on my lap,” he asked, pulling you in for a kiss.

Before his lips touched yours, you looked over your shoulder. “Al, do you…” The cat was nowhere to be found. “Where did she go?”

“I think she’s giving us some alone time.”

“Well, all I wanted to do was cuddle,” you teased.

He groaned and kissed a trail to your neck. “Why don’t we cuddlefuck instead?”

You smiled before you repeated his words in your mind. “…Cuddlefuck?”

Al knows what's up. Poor Al. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[hoshifighting]

hey since requests are open could you do a Seventeen reaction to s/o crying while having sex, something where they haven’t figured out the reason for her cry and are confused?

(spoiler alert, her being deliciously split in half is the reason 😫?)

Seventeen reacting to you crying during sex (bc you're being deliciously split in a half)

Seungcheol

hates seeing people cry, especially you. he immediately stops, his face full of concern. "hey, babe! babe! what's wrong?" when you finally manage to tell him that it's because he’s making you feel so good, a cocky grin spreads across his face. "Is that so?" he says, resuming his movements with newfound confidence.

Jeonghan

his eyes widen, and he stops everything, his worry evident and kind of adorable. "shit, are you okay? darling did I do something?" You find his concern cute, and when you finally explain, he relaxes, a sly smile forming on his lips. "oh, really?" he says with a newfound vigor. "let’s see if I can make you cry even harder." he resumes with more intensity, determined to see u cumming with tear streaming your face.

Joshua

his reaction is tender. he immediately caresses your cheeks, his voice soft and soothing. "babe, it’s okay. what’s wrong? tell me.." even after you assure him it’s because of the pleasure, he tries to distract you, his fingers playing with your clit to heighten your experience. "let’s make you feel even better, yeah?"

Junhui

goes completely still, his eyes wide with concern. you manage to choke out that it feels so good, and a slow smile spreads across his face. "oh, I see," he murmurs, resuming his motions. "I’ll keep going, then."

Hoshi

is immediately worried and slides off you, his face a picture of concern. "Y/N-nie did I do something wrong?" when you beg him to be inside you again, his worry turns into amusement. "alright, but you asked for it," he says, thrusting deep and sharp, finding your pleasured tears a fucking tease.

Wonwoo

goes still too, "what did I do wrong babe?" he needs a few moments to process when you explain it’s because of the pleasure. "oh," he says softly, starting to move again. "I didn’t realize you felt that good."

Woozi

holds your hands, his eyes wide with confusion. "why are you crying?" he never thought seeing you cry in this moment would turn him on so much. when you tell him it’s because it feels amazing, he bites his lip, clearly affected.

Minghao

immediately soothes you, his voice calm and gentle. "darling, hey, look at me, what happened?" when you explain, he lets out a relieved breath, resuming his hips, cock stretching your wet pussy. "good to know, baby" he says with a smirk.

Mingyu

looks like a worried puppy, thinking he hurt you. "oh my god, baby, we should stop–" when you grind on him, urging him to continue, he relaxes a bit. "okay, if you say so," he murmurs, resuming his movements still a little concerned.

Seokmin

is surprised at how pretty you look while crying. he never knew he’d find it so arousing. "hm, babe? are you crying? why?" when you tell him it’s because of the pleasure, he grins. "the more you cry, the harder I’ll go," he says, and you cry enen harder, just to feel his cock splitting you open.

Seungkwan

almost panics at first, thinking he’s hurting you. "oh my God, are you okay?" "babe don't stop! please!" you beg and he coos at you, his worry melting away. "hm? it's that good baby? huh?," he whispers, resuming his movements as you roll your eyes at the back of your skull.

Vernon

is the most confused from all of them. "why are you crying?" even though you tell him it’s because it feels good, he resumes with uncertainty. "babe? are you sure? it's not hurting you... it is?" he says, watching you closely until he gets used to seeing your pleasured tears.

Chan

stops immediately, his concern evident. "what’s wrong? should I...stop?" when you squirm and tell him to continue, he resumes, determined to make you cum around his sore cock. "I’ll keep going," he says, his voice soft. "but I’m going to make sure you’re okay." he dries your tears during it, his movements precise and caring.

[eternalsams]

Call Me Daddy ⇴ J.Seresin

pairing: Jake Seresin x single mom!reader

warning/content: fluff, kids shenanigans, Jake being so good with a kid, Jake being Jake, tiny innuendos (blink and you miss it), reader's daughter's name is Lila

summary: When your daughter mistaken Jake for her father, you're more than embarrassed. That until she tells you why she called him that.

word count: 1.9k

a/n: English isn't my first language so please take that into consideration.

masterlist

What would be better for his quiet alone night in his little apartment? Canned green beans or canned lenses? Why not take both and choose back at home? Jake sighed and dropped the two cans in his shopping cart. The earbuds in his ears blasting music to shut off the noise around him and his fingertips drumming the rhythm against his thigh. He could hear people walking behind him and sometimes complaining about how much space he was taking in the aisle. But he really couldn't care less. He went back to the main aisle and walked past the cookie section, stopping in his tracks and eying the sweet aisle. He grimaced and looked down at his shopping cart, he's been forcing himself to keep a healthier diet when he noticed he gained a few extra pounds the last few months. He softly groaned as he let his inner thoughts win and walk in the cookie aisle.

He tried to ignore the full chocolate ones and kept walking to the more 'healthy' ones. He picked a box and tried not to stare at the numerous calories at the back. "Come on, baby. We already have those cookies at home." A feminine voice came from the other side of the aisle. Jake turned to the voice and completely forgot about his cookies when he noticed something way sweeter. He could tell you were exhausted by the small bags under your eyes but other than that, you took great care of yourself, probably to hide the real fatigue from the others. You were trying to reason with a little girl, not older than 6 from what he knew of kids, and Jake could tell she was your daughter. She was practically your clone with how much she looked like you. Jake mindlessly dropped the cookie box into his cart and the little girl's attention was on him in a second. But all could Jake see was the pleading look in your eyes as you tried to convince your daughter she didn't need the dinosaur shaped cookies. His eyes staring at you might have discouraged your daughter because she put the box back onto the aisle and grabbed your hand silently.

Jake blinked a few times as you left the cookie section to keep going with your shopping and only then he noticed the little girl's eyes staring at him. He softly waved at her with a smile and her rosy lips stretched with a grin. Jake scoffed and decided it was enough cookies for now and looked a last time to his hand-written shopping list. He didn't see you again for the rest of his errands, that until he felt a light tap on his arm. He turned around and looked down at the little girl he saw earlier. He paused the music in his earbuds and smiled at the girl. "Hey, where's your mom? Did you get lost?" He asked as knelt down, starting to look around them. "Are you my daddy?" She asked him and he felt his neck crack as he abruptly looked back at her. "What? No-" He laughed nervously, not knowing where this was coming from. "Lila? Lila!" Your voice called and jake could see you running to them, crouching down to take your daughter in your arms. "What did I tell you? Keep your hands on the cart and stay around me." You said sternly and Jake stood back on his feet, rubbing his neck. You took the little girl's hand in yours and looked up at Jake with an apologetic and yet suspicious look. "I'm sorry, she usually don't wander about when shopping." You said and Jake nodded with a smile. "No harms done."

"Is that my daddy?" Lila asked, looking between you and the tall stranger. Your eyes widened and you glared at your daughter as Jake scoffed, finding the situation way funnier than he should. "Lila! He's not- I'm sorry, sir." You apologized once more and Jake chuckled. "It's alright, really. She's a cute kid." He desperately tried to make conversation but he knew nothing about you. Except for your daughter. "She is, usually. But she's never done that to any man, that's weird." You said more to yourself than to him. "Well, I'm flattered." Jake smiled and you nervously chuckled. "I'm Jake." he introduced himself, freeing one of his hands to shake yours. You told him your name with a shy smile and looked down at your daughter. "Well, Jake. It was nice meeting you but I've got a dinner to get." You started to walk back and Jake felt the need to stay close to you but didn't do anything. He so wanted to ask for your number or something but he didn't even know if you were single. He knew Lila's dad wasn't in the picture, because why else would she have called him 'daddy'? But maybe you had a husband waiting for you at home, Lila's step-dad. He sighed when you went out of sight and grumbled something under his breath before opening his music app and clicking on the play button.

When you parked your car in your alley, Lila unbuckled her seatbelt but you stayed in your seat. "Mum we're home." She leaned over to your seat, waiting for you to get out and open her door. "I know, baby. I know." You blinked a few times, thinking about your meeting with Jake. That was new. It had been years since a man caught your attention. Jake had been really nice to Lila from what you saw and really nice to you too. You kicked yourself mentally for not asking for his number. You really lost all your flirting techniques.

A few hours later, you called Lila for dinner and she came running to the kitchen, already dressed in her pj's. You kissed her head when you put her plate in front of her and took your seat in front of her. "Baby, why did you think the man from the store was your daddy?" You asked between two bites. Lila didn't even wait to swallow her food and started answering. "Not with your mouth full please, baby." You leaned over the table and wiped her mouth with a napkin. She loudly swallowed her vegetables and clumsily put down her fork. "It's because of Ethan." She said and you frowned. You knew of Ethan, he was one of Lila's friend from school. "What did Ethan said?" You got curious. "He said his parents look at each other like we look at jewels. He said that one time his daddy watched his mom like she was a princess." Lila smiled and you started to realize what she meant. "So when you asked Jake if he was your daddy-" You started before she cut you off with a grin on her face. "He was watching you like you were a princess." She giggled, putting her little hands in front of her mouth.

You huffed and leaned back into your chair, not believing your ears. When Lila finished her dinner, you sent her to brush her teeth and go to bed, not without a complain from her. And when you were sure she was asleep, you grabbed your laptop and opened the few social medias you had. Jake. You tried looking through possible mutual friends, but nothing. From the local companies accounts, still nothing. You stayed up way later than you'd ever admit looking for this man but it was like he never existed. At least on the internet. Than you remembered the kind of supplies he had in his cart. You also noticed how firm his whole body looked and you looked up the local gym. You looked through the different posts, videos, photos, anything. And then you found him. His back was facing the camera and he was wearing a black tank top and a backward cap, but you could recognize those shoulders anywhere now. You hoped for a linked account in the caption but it seemed he didn't have one. Though you had his name and function. Lieutenant Jake Seresin.

A few days passed without having any sign from Jake. You almost went to the groceries when Lila was at school, hoping to meet him again but you decided against it. You had no idea how to get in contact with this man. Hell, you didn't even know if he was single, but you needed to know. You looked at your watch and noticed you still had a few hours before leaving to pick up Lila from school. You changed into some comfortable sweats and a lose shirt before grabbing your keys and leaving for a quick jogging. You tried your best to suppress any thought concerning Jake and focused on your breathing before you could get a side ache. Your eyes even started tricking you as you started seeing Jake's face to every blond, tall men you saw. You shook your head to the first one and ignored the next ones. Then someone called your name.

You turned to the voice and your eyes widened when you recognized Jake. The real Jake. "Oh, hi, Jake right?" You tried to play innocent, not like you tried to stalk him. He smiled at you and caught his breath, him too seemingly on his run day. "Yeah, from the grocery store, you remember me!" You chuckled at that, if he only knew. "Yeah, yeah I remember you. Hard to forget your daughter's dad." What the shit? You smacked yourself internally and giggled nervously when he laughed. "I never thought I'd see a kid walking to me and ask if I'm their daddy." He smiled even more, how was that even possible? "It's nice to see you again." You said, trying not to look at his bulging biceps peeking out from his shirt. "It's nice to see you too. I um... I wanted to ask for your number the other ay but I didn't know if that was appropriate." He said, taking his phone out of his pocket, hoping dearly he wasn't reading this wrong. "That's really not inappropriate." You chuckled and took his phone when he gave it to you, entering your phone number into his contacts. "So... No step-dad for Lila?" He dared ask and you looked up at him with a shy smile. "No, no step-dad. It's been a rough few years for mom so, no time for meeting step-dad." You playfully said as you gave him his phone back.

"I hope mommy won't be too hard on me then." He boldly said with a cocky smile. Your breath got caught in your throat and you felt yourself blushing at his words. "I'm sure she'll be great if you don't misbehave." A boldness you didn't know took over your body and had you say those words, getting you to blush even more. Jake didn't seem to mind one bit as he laughed and looked down at his feet for a moment. "Do you think I could ask you out for dinner?" He then asked, looking back at you. "I'd love to, but I don't really like leaving Lila with a babysitter, I'm a bit of a mother hen." You said. You were a bit sad that could discourage Jake but your daughter would always come first. "No problem! I can come over and cook you two dinner, what do you say?" He smiled at you and you felt your heart flutter with affection. "I'm sure Lila would love that." You told him. "And what about you? Would you like that?" He took a step closer to you, now standing in your personal space. "I would love that." You smiled at him.

taglist: @senawashere @hardballoonlove @blue-aconite @iliketopgun @callsign-hummingbird @roosterforme @jessicab1991 @atarmychick007 @hangmansgbaby @callsigns-haze

@els-marvelvsp @averagewriter-inthedark @theglenaissance @hangmanforever @goldenseresinretriever @djs8891 @callsign-magnolia

[tweedcola]

I'm very new to posting here but please enjoy 4.1k words of soft Bucky smut!

Do It Properly

You’re not sure what wakes you in the end. Whether it’s a creaky floorboard, a rustling of your sheets or merely the change in the air that another person brings. Whatever the reason, you open bleary eyes and squint into the darkness, reaching for your phone to check the time. You only notice another presence in your bedroom when he clears this throat and steps forward to the end of your bed.

You let out a tiny ‘eep’ of surprise before your mind registers who the shadowy shape belongs to, but you recover quickly enough to ask, “Bucky?”

Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes; centenarian, former Winter Soldier and current cat-dad stands looking defeated by your feet.

“Hey,” he responds hoarsely, and you scramble for the switch on your lamp, desperate to see him properly.

The light starts low, gradually brightening the room as it warms up, bringing Bucky into visibility. He looks… well. You’ve seen him worse, definitely. He has this issue (you think it’s an issue, he doesn’t see the problem) in which he throws his whole body into fights with reckless abandon, his own well being taking a backseat when you’re not on missions to remind him that he should look after himself. That he needs to look after himself so he can come back home to you.

His right hand is bandaged which means it must have been pretty bad – they generally don’t bother wrapping up the super soldiers as most of their injuries have faded by the following morning, but it’s his face that really makes you gasp.

“Buck!” you whisper, horrified, as he shuffles forward, bashful under your gaze. “What happened?”

He shrugs off his jacket and you’re hit with the scent of gunpowder and smoke as he chucks it unceremoniously on the floor by the desk chair where Alpine is curled up. Al activates with an inquisitive puurp? arching his back in an elongated stretch to greet his daddy. Bucky turns to scritch the feline’s ears, rolling his shoulders at the same time. You take that to mean, don’t ask but you can’t ignore the angry red welts around his neck, the dark purple blooming under both eyes and Bucky’s wince when he huffs a laugh at Alpine when he kicks his back legs against his fingers as he tickles his tummy.

“Bucky…” you try again, shucking back the covers and reaching for his shoulder. You kneel on the bed and run your hand down his back soothingly, pretending that you’re not looking for further injuries. “You get your nose broken honey?”

Bucky ducks his head and looks at you through his eyelashes pitifully.

“Sam set it back already. Took the shield to the face,” he admits slowly, enjoying your touch as you ease the muscles in his shoulder and at the base of his neck with your fingers, searching out the pressure points that make him groan.

“Why, what’d you say?” you tease, gently.

Bucky huffs again, then cringes as it causes him pain, slumping close to lean on you.

“Wasn’t my fault,” he mumbles into your neck, pressing his forehead to your shoulder. His left hand comes up to play with the strap of your tank top and you shiver against the cool metal. “Steve doesn’t enunciate. He only warned me to duck after he threw the damned thing. Jerk didn’t stop laughing the whole way home.”

You press your lips together and stroke the back of his head, making sure he stays buried in your neck so he can’t see how you’re struggling to hide your amusement.

“And this? You get on Sam’s bad side too?” you stroke his neck lightly, brushing against the vicious bruising that decorates the delicate skin there. Bucky stiffens almost imperceptibly, and you realise that he can’t talk about it. Not yet anyway. You know he’ll come to you when he’s ready.

You heave a sigh and push at his shoulder until he straightens, tilting his chin up to look you in the eye. “You just let me know if I need to go kick bird-boy’s ass, yeah?” you grin, peppering kisses over his eyebrow, betting that it’s a pain-free area before pulling him close again.

“Thanks baby,” Bucky answers on a heavy sigh. You continue threading your fingers through the short hair at the nape of his neck, knowing the comfort of your touch is what he needs right now, rather than a dissection of his latest mission. You need the contact too, the physical reminder that he’s safe in your arms for the time being, though you make a mental note to ask the Captain why it looks like someone tried to garrotte your boyfriend. Honestly, what good is Steve if he’s not watching Bucky’s six when you’re not there?

You remain kneeling on the bed, letting Bucky use you as a crutch for as long as you can bare the weight of the 240-pound super soldier but eventually you have to push at his shoulder to get him to draw back. He harrumphs disappointedly but you know he’s not serious when his eyes drop from your face to skim along the length of your body, his right eyebrow raising appreciatively at the thin camisole and itty-bitty lace panties you’re wearing to counter the heat.

“Damn babydoll…” he begins, his hands hooking around the backs of your thighs to tug you along the bedspread, slightly closer to the edge. “You look good enough to eat.” He gives you a wolfish smile that has you admittedly a little weak in the knees and goes to duck towards your tits but you push at his forehead with a scoff.

“Uh-uh Barnes, don’t even think about it. You need a shower.” With your hands on his hips, he allows you to keep him at arm’s length while you slide from the bed and steer him towards your bathroom, his expression shifting from predatory to a dopey pleased grin as he allows you to take care of him.

“You gonna join me, sugar?” he asks, leaning against the sink as you turn the knobs and crank up the heat to a frankly dangerous degree because Bucky really doesn’t like the cold. You turn to catch him stifling a yawn into his fist, still fully dressed and you gesture at him impatiently.

“I don’t know, you gonna be able to keep your hands to yourself Sergeant?” You start unbuckling and tugging at his clothing, fighting with the supple leather that moulds to his arms as Bucky endeavours to stay awake. It’s a testament to how tired he actually is when you drop to your knees to wrestle his trousers down his legs and he doesn’t make a lewd joke, though you do see his half-hard length give a valiant twitch in his boxers before you tug those down too.

You help him into the shower, thankful that you don’t see any other bruising on his body but knowing that doesn’t mean he isn’t hurt before you go to gather his clothes up into your arms. You don’t get that far though, as the glass door slides back open behind you and you’re tugged into the near-scalding water still in your sleep clothes.

“Buck!” you squawk, pressing yourself away from the water ineffectually as the spray soaks the front of your vest anyway. He crowds you up against the tiles that are already slick with condensation, effectively ensuring that no part of you has stayed dry.

“Mmm, you said you’d join me…” he mutters into your shoulder, nuzzling against your damp skin as his hands play with the lace covering your backside.

“And you said you’d keep your hands to yourself,” you huff playfully, reaching for the bar of Imperial Leather soap because old habits die hard and for Bucky the saying is doubly true. You lather the soap between your fingers and start moving it along his shoulders and back where you’re able to reach.

“No…” he drawls, slipping his fingers beneath your panties to stroke over the skin of your hips and ass as he presses his now very interested cock against your lower stomach and rocks you against him. “I didn’t answer and you interpreted my silence as agreement,” he murmurs. “I was very careful about that.”

You draw back and are faced with his incredibly pleased smile, almost impish in his glee that he’s managed to wrangle you into the shower with him for him to do as he pleases. You don’t have the heart to shatter his illusion with the truth, that you’d follow him anywhere under any conditions.

He tickles the soft skin between your thigh and hip and you squeal. You love seeing this side of Bucky, almost child-like in his mischief, even if the activity that you’re doing is very adult.

“Hmm, very clever…” you muse, drawing the soap down his right arm before sliding it up the other, ridding his skin and left arm of two days of sweat and gunpowder before starting to work on his chest. Bucky lets you work for a few quiet moments, watching your movements with half lidded eyes. You glance up at him and snort at the expression on his face; he’s hard for you but obviously can’t decide if he’s more sleepy or horny.

“Relax Buck,” you implore, working soap over his hips and kneading the bone there before making your way down his lower back, eliciting a sinful moan when you hit a knot and the muscle releases.

Bucky mumbles something into the skin of your neck between sweet kisses and you use one hand to tilt his head to the side when you ask him to repeat himself.

“Magic hands,” he slurs, rocking himself in time with your ministrations. “Magic, angel hands. Y’so good to me darlin’.” He pulls back and busies himself with playing with the strap of your tank top. “Wanna be good to you too.” Bucky’s hands drift southward to the waistband of your underwear, dipping his fingers in and teasingly raking his nails over the sensitive skin of your pelvis.

You shudder and feel his cock jump in response. Abandoning your task, you let the soap slide from your grip, ignoring the dull clunk as it hits the porcelain of the tub and instead wrapping your hand around his length and giving him one firm stroke from root to tip.

Bucky grunts, his hips jerking forward towards you. His hand slips fully between your thighs and you let out a sigh when his clever fingers part your folds to trace over your clit gently. Your natural slick mixes with the hot water still beating down on you both creating a heavenly slide that Bucky uses to his advantage, his movements becoming slightly rougher as you pant in his ear.

“That’s it baby, that feel good?” his voice is gruff as your desire heightens and he dips his forefinger into your core up to the first knuckle just to feel you clench around him when he strokes over the top of your clit just right. “Mmm, certainly seems like it feels good.”

You just have the wherewithal to register the slightly mocking tone in your boyfriend’s voice and retaliate with another firm tug on his member, the soap suds lingering on your palm making the glide smooth and slick, cutting off the rest of his sentence when it devolves into a whine.

You continue to jerk him slowly, reveling in the stuttering mess that you’re able to reduce him to with such a simple touch.

“Mmm, so sensitive honey,” you coo into his ear, increasing your pace incrementally. Bucky is completely at your mercy, his hand slackening in your panties and the coil in his stomach tightening with your movements. He rocks upwards on a gasp before straightening and grabbing desperately at your wrist.

“Stop – stop,” he pants, squeezing the base of his dick to stave off the orgasm that had crept up unexpectedly. “Fuck, almost made me blow my load in your hand baby, shit.” Your giggle sets him off with a growl and Bucky hoists you up into his arms, shredding your underwear with a wolfish grin.

“Bastard,” you say playfully, nipping at his bottom lip as he steadies you on a convenient shelf that you’ve only needed to replace three times since Bucky moved in with you.

“You gotta learn doll, none of your underwear is safe around me.”

As if to prove his point Bucky grabs a fistful of your top at chest level and you can see the gears turn in his head as he gets ready to yank and separate the body from the straps –

“Wait!” you call, throwing out an arm to catch his. “Just gimme a minute, damn,” you mutter, peeling the offending piece of clothing from your body and letting it drop to the floor with a wet thwack. “Running out of pyjamas thank you very much, some hopped-up super soldier keeps shredding all my clothes.”

There’s no remorse on Bucky’s face as he eyes your tits hungrily and you wonder when you lost your soft, sleepy boyfriend to this sex-starved menace. Deciding to tease him just a little more, you cup your chest, stroking lightly over your nipples and watch as his pupils dilate fully.

Bucky feels barely restrained, watching as you enjoy the delicate grace of your own touch and damn near drooling, desperate to get his mouth on your tits. He’s captivated by your movements.

“You okay there, Sarge?” you question, punctuating your words with a soft gasp as you apply more pressure to the sensitive peaks of your breasts. You arch your back a touch, your chest lifting just an inch or two closer and Bucky is salivating.

“More,” he requests, the whimper in his voice dampening the order. He recognises the tone for what it is – a plea – and he’d give almost anything to have his hands on you but – god – the way you’re writhing and panting before him, the slick folds of your cunt on display when you let your thighs fall open – Bucky can’t help but think you’re a goddess. He watches you for a minute longer, his body so tense that even the slightest touch might shatter him but what’s a goddess for if not to be worshipped? And Bucky will supplicate at your feet for eternity for you to rid him of his wrongs and cleanse the days before you. He’s been the luckiest son of a bitch for over a year now and he knows he’ll find heaven within you, that you lay peace and forgiveness down before him with simple caresses and erase his guilt with your lips.

You gift him a coy smile and let your hands drop, twining your fingers with Bucky’s and drawing him close until he’s stood between the ‘v’ of your legs, sharing your breath and feeling the heat rolling off your skin.

You tilt your head up and slant your lips against his, dragging his hands up your body to replace where yours had been on the mounds of your chest, encouraging him to squeeze and play as he wishes as you hook your calves over his hips and urge him closer still.

You chance a quick glance up at his face to find that he’s completely enraptured with your chest, snorting a laugh even as he feathers his thumbs over your nipples, raising goosebumps up your arms.

A shudder runs through Bucky’s body when he feels the tip of his cock brush against the heat between your legs and he tilts his hips forward to glide his length along you, delighting in your gasp when he grinds down against your clit.

“You want this?” Bucky asks, his expression split between cocky and desperate as he rocks against you, spreading his hands over your lower back and digging his fingertips into the meat of your ass.

“Mmm,” you whine, your head lolling back to rest against the shower tile, waiting for him to start pushing forward, for that first divine stretch that feels like nothing else –

But it’s not forthcoming. You crack your eyes open and lift your head questioningly.

“Please baby,” Bucky whines, pressing his hips into yours again. You reach up to stroke his cheek and just stop yourself from frowning.

“You need me to say it, Buck?” you ask softly, still running the tips of your fingers along his stubbled jaw, enjoying the scruff that pulls at your fingers.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah –“ each breathless plea is punctuated by an eager grind against you and you bite your lip against a moan when you feel his cock throb from where it’s trapped between your bodies.

“Okay honey,” your voice is shaky with desire for your man but you fight to keep your tone clear so he knows exactly how much you want him. “Please fuck me Bucky – I want it so bad, needed it the whole time you were gone – ah!”

You’re barely through your sentence when he thrusts into you, burying himself to the hilt before stopping just as quickly as he’d begun.

“Fuck,” Bucky hisses. “Fuck, that’s so good.”

“Mmm,” you whine in response. “Need you to move honey.”

He raises his head and shoots you a look. It’s one that you don’t get very often but you cherish the pinched eyebrows and lip trapped between his teeth as he fights to stop himself from coming prematurely.

“Needja to be patient baby,” he gasps out, his hands clutching at your thighs bruisingly as his Brooklyn accent slips into place. You can almost see his thought process as he runs through baseball statistics and multiplication tables in his head. You’re sweating by the time the tension finally drains from Bucky’s shoulders and you can’t stop yourself from clenching down on him when he gives a couple of gentle test-thrusts.

“You’re not helping,” he grunts, as he gets a better grip on your slippery skin to hoist your legs higher, and you’re honestly not sure if he’s speaking to you or your pussy.

You don’t have time to dwell on it though, as Bucky lets you know he’s ready with a sharp snap of his hips and a grunt from deep in his chest when you dig your nails into his shoulders in surprise.

“Careful with the claws, kitten,” Bucky groans before really laying into you.

You cling to one another as his hips snap into yours orchestrating a rhythm of skin hitting skin that is only amplified by the water. The bathroom echoes with your lovemaking, even as you bite at your lip – it’s still the middle of the night and you share walls with two other apartments in this block, not to mention your poor downstairs neighbours.

It only takes a few moments for Bucky’s rough strokes to build your pleasure high enough for you to stumble and a sharp moan of his name escapes you.

“Oh god honey,” Bucky pants, uncurling his left arm from around your waist to reach out and grab the top of the shower door for stability. “That good, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you pant, “S’good Buck, it’s good.” Your words escape you in a staccato, hiccoughing rhythm that he punches out of you in time with the movement of his hips. You tip your head back and Bucky takes the opportunity to litter a series of sweet kisses against your neck, whispering words of devotion in between the brushes of his lips, drinking in the ecstatic sounds that you’re making.

“Fuck sweet girl, you’re so good, s’good, don’t wanna leave, never gonna leave ya again, love you so much baby,” Bucky’s inner monologue escapes without direction as your pleasure climbs, his words encouraging your end almost as much as his movement.

“Please – please Bucky,” you stutter out, dropping your hand between the two of you to stroke at your clit, your desperation for an orgasm acute after being without him for too long.

“Me, honey, let me,” Bucky insists, leaning his upper body away from you slightly to find the best angle. His practiced fingers find you easily and you feel yourself clench involuntarily around him when his thumb massages you in just the right pattern. The moan that you let out is quiet but so desperately needy that Bucky hisses when his cock throbs in response but by that time it’s too late for you anyway.

You dive off of the precipice, arching your back and feeling your pussy pulse uncontrollably as you’re ignited from the inside. Bucky pushes in to the hilt one final time before he too lets go, whimpering quietly as he joins your bliss.

You remain entwined beneath the water for a few long moments, relishing in the feel of one another before Bucky tilts his head back to look at you, his eyes still hazy with lingering pleasure. You know he’s not able to get drunk but if you saw him like this at any other time you’d assume he was intoxicated. You snort internally and go to make fun of his pussy-drunk expression when –

“Marry me.”

You slap your hand against the shower wall, groping desperately for the button that will halt the stream of water beating against the glass because you think that you just heard your super soldier boyfriend propose to you while he’s still very much inside you.

“What, Bucky-what?!” you finally locate the off switch and shower ceases, leaving the pitter-pattering of water droplets as the only sound in the room while you and Bucky stare at one another. “Did you just – ”

“No.” His response is short and sharp, cutting over the end of your question, as though he can’t bear to hear the words leave your lips. When you blink at him, he has the gall to look guilty and his shoulders drop in defeat. “I said – I – ” he takes a moment to clear his throat twice before speaking again.

“I said marry me. I’m sorry.”

Silence reigns again while you absorb the shock of his words.

“Bucky…” you begin slowly, wriggling back slightly to bring attention to his cock still buried to the hilt and his hips still fit snuggly between your thighs. “…are you proposing to me while you’re still balls deep?”

Bucky groans and lets his head drop to your shoulder as your laughter rings out but you wrap your arms around his neck and squeeze him as close to you as you possibly can, hooking your ankles one over the other at the small of his back so he can’t escape you.

“I – I had a plan, and a ring –” he starts to explain into your neck but you silence him with a tug to his hair so that you can meet his eyes. The concern etched on his face disappears almost as soon as he sees your joyful expression and he gifts you the softest, sweetest smile in return before taking a deep breath in and you just know what’s going to come next.

So you reach up quickly and place the tops of your fingers over his mouth.

This man – this man who has been through so much more than anyone should have to, who has survived horror and death and the loss of his autonomy only to come through the other side still able to love – deserves to have exactly what he wants. He deserves to have this moment, his proposal, exactly as picture perfect as he’s always imagined. And so although you know you’ll say yes, that you’ll marry him in a heartbeat, you halt Bucky’s next words.

“Wait,” you instruct gently. “Just wait. Do your plan – give me the ring.” You don’t explain further but brush your lips against his once, twice and whisper, “I love you.”

“I love you sweetheart.” Bucky responds just as quietly, and you feel the full force of his devotion and adoration hit you when he rests his forehead against yours briefly.

The moment is ruined when he steps away from you to turn the shower back on to wash away the evidence of your lovemaking with a mumbled; “It’s a good thing you didn’t say yes, Sam woulda never let me live it down if I’d proposed like that.”

You shuffle under the warm spray and wrap your arms around Bucky’s waist to gaze innocently up at him. “Oh – I’ll definitely be telling Sam about this,” you state. “My pussy game is so good that I got a marriage proposal? Bucky, I’m telling everyone.”

Your squeal echoes off the tiles as Bucky growls and digs his fingers into your waist in retaliation, grinning wickedly, and barely able to stop himself from sprinting to his underwear drawer to recover the ring nestled at the back.

He’ll do it properly tomorrow.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

baby shoes

words: 2.3k

warnings: 18+ only!, smut, best friend!rafe, childhood friends to lovers, pretty fluffy :), p in v sex, unprotected smut, breeding!, pregnancy kink?, no actual sex while pregnant but lots of like. bump descriptions?

rafe rolls his eyes as you let out a squeal, already knowing what is happening.

“oh. my. god.” you pick up the baby shoes off the shelf, a pair of sparkly flats with the cutest flower straps you've ever seen. “rafe, they're so tiny!”

you hold them up for him to look at as if he's never seen baby shoes before, despite you pointing them out to him every time you're out shopping together.

“yeah, real cute.” he says, keeping his voice completely monotone.

“rafe, don't be so sour.” you pout at him. your friendship is an unexpected one. started in kindergarten and has only grown closer since, your sweet nature in contrast to rafes hard exterior.

“y/n.” rafe sighs, taking the baby shoes from your hands as he sets them back on the shelf. “we look at baby shoes and onesies every time we go to target. i brought you here to buy you a pair of boots, let's go.”

rafe tries to usher you down the aisle. despite you also being a kook he refuses to let you (or, really, your parents credit card) pay for anything.

you nod and continue to the women's section when you cross by a pair of ugg boots made for toddlers and stop in your tracks. “raaaafe!” you coo.

--

look how cute this baby is rafey

“are you serious?” rafe questions reading your text message. “im laying right next to you.”

“too much work to roll over and show you.” you shrug, both scrolling on your phones, having just gotten back from a long day. so long rafe insisted you slept at his because it was closer. only one block closer, but you didn't argue. rafes bed is also yours, and yours his. you've always shared, no need to change now just because you're older.

“that baby isn't even that cute.” rafe huffs out.

you turn over now, rolling onto your stomach to glare at him. “rafe cameron, you are such a dick!”

“oh, so you'll roll over to yell at me?” rafe questions, a smile on his face. usually he wouldn't take shit from anyone, but you're not just anyone to him.

“yes because you deserve it asshole. that baby is adorable.”

“yours would be way cuter.” rafe grins, knowing how flustered you get talking about having a child of your own.

“okay, true.” 

--

“what the fuck is going on?” rafe questions, his mouth literally dropping as he walks in.

“oh my god!” you squeal. “you told me you were coming over at 2, you idiot!” 

rafe looks at the time on your alarm clock. 1:55. rafe may have not knocked before letting himself in, but he figured it was fine. 

“what are you wearing?”

“it's… it's a fake pregnancy belly. my friend carly who works with the school plays said they were getting rid of it bc it was getting old… and i asked to have it.” you shrug, your embarrassment melting away the longer you talk about it.

“why would you want that?” rafe questions.

“i just wanted to see what id look like.” you shrug, turning again to look at yourself in the mirror, running your hands over the tshirt stretching around the plastic material. “i think i look cute.”

rafes eyes are on the round swell of your belly. he thinks you look more than cute, he thinks you look so ravishing he wants to make that belly real right this second.

“gonna take a shower.” rafe makes a turn towards your bathroom before you can argue, saving himself by locking the door behind him.

-- 

“why are you in a mood?” rafe just entered your house but he can already tell from the look on your face that something has upset you.

“freaking kelsey is pregnant.” you spit her name out like it's an insult. she's been your sworn moral enemy ever since she “dated” rafe in the fourth grade and told him he had to choose between staying friends with you or dating her. he chose staying friends of course, but you've despised her anyways since.

“okay…” rafe waits for more reasoning to you being so upset.

“that should be me.” you whine, not ashamed as you throw a little tantrum, stomping your feet on the ground.

“it can be.” rafe shrugs.

“huh?” you question, plopping back on the couch behind you, waiting for rafe to join you for movie night.

“you're not a kid anymore, y/n. you're 21. have a baby if you want.” rafe simply states.

“i- who would i even have a baby with? im single.” you've been single a majority of your life. there were flings in high school, but no one that lasted.

what you don't know if rafe contributed heavily to those relationships ending. he had staked his claim on you, and no guy was worthy in his eyes.

“id help you raise a baby.” rafe says without really thinking, sitting down on the couch next to you, not flinching as you turn to place your feet on his lap, always wanting to stretch out and get comfortable.

“you would?”

“im with you all the time anyways.” rafe nods. “if you had a baby id basically be their dad anyways.”

“id want that.” you admit. “you're the only guy out there i trust enough to get me pregnant.” you're not really thinking about your words themselves as you press your fingers to your stomach, imagining it filled up with a baby, with rafes baby.

“alright, we gotta talk about something else.” rafe shifts on the couch, pushing your feet off his lap to turn himself slightly away from you.

“wait why?” you question, sitting forward.

“just… change the subject.” rafe takes a deep breath, trying to calm down the boner that is growing in his pants.

“no, tell me!” you move closer, which only makes rafe turn away more. “tell me, rafey!”

he's never kept anything from you, and shockingly you can't figure out why he's behaving like this now.

“jesus, stop!” rafe scooches away when you grab onto his arm, trying to get him to face you, to look at you.

“tell me!” you complain again.

“because im fucking hard okay!” rafe shouts, standing up from the couch. “it's getting me fucking hard thinking about getting you pregnant so change the fucking subject!”

you sit on the couch in shock, eyes wide open. you know you shouldn't, he's your best friend after all, but you find your eyes moving lower, and sure enough, the front of rafes pants and tented, cock pushing away from his body.

“i-i-” you stammer.

“you nothing. okay? we forget this happened. just stop talking about getting fucking pregnant and stop talking about me being the one to do it.”

“but i want it to be you.” you blink up at rafe, head suddenly clearing. you do want it or be rafe. he's the only one who should be waking up in the middle of the night with you when your baby cries. he's the one you want to experience every milestone with. he's the one you want filling you up over and over until your tummy starts to swell.

“we can't go back.” rafe says, his tone suddenly serious. “we can't go back to just friends.”

“i know.” it's all you need to say for rafe to surge forward, dropping his knees to the floor as he kisses you, mouth easily dominating yours. you let out a soft moan as his hands cup your jaw, keeping you close even though you press yourself into him, hands fisted in his shirt.

“let me have you.” rafe pants against your mouth. “i need you. let me fill you up.”

“yes.” you nod. “yes, please. take your clothes off.”

you don't care that you're in the middle of your living room, you immediately tug your shirt off over your head, bearing your breasts to him. rafe knew you never wore a bra when in your own home, but seeing your bare tits is still a shock.

he doesn't even take his shirt off despite you tugging at it, cupping your chest as he leans in, mouth wrapping around your nipple.

“oh my god!” you squeal, fisting your hands in rafes hair, holding him close to your body as his tongue flicks over your nipple, hardening it quickly.

“i… im sorry baby i need to get inside of you.” rafe feels crude, tugging at your shorts to pull them down your legs, tossing them away.

“i need you too.” there will be plenty of time now that you've admitted feelings for each other to take your time, to go slow and learn each other's bodies.

rafe stands up, looking down at you in just your underwear, eyes glassy with lust as he pulls his shirt off, followed by him tugging his pants down, finally getting your eyes off his face as your eyes move down. you reach forward, hand rubbing over rafes length, annoyed that the fabric of his underwear is not allowing you to see him properly.

“fuck, stop.” rafe takes a step back. “im supposed to cum in you. get you pregnant. you're gonna make me bust.”

you smile, flattered that your simple touch can cause him to almost lose it.

“where do you want me.” you whisper. you aren't a virgin but you certainly aren't as experienced as rafe. while you know he partakes in hookups at parties you don't attend, you were never interested in sleeping around just for the sake of sleeping around.

“just lay back, baby.” rafe let's out a huff as you turn from sitting on the couch to laying down, your breasts falling beautifully as you wait for him to make the next move. “let's get these off.” rafe pulls your underwear down, but you keep your legs together to hide yourself for a little longer.

rafe shucks his underwear off next, praying his throbbing erection doesn't cause him to cum the second he gets inside of you.

you let out a low moan just from the both of you being naked. “gonna kneel down. wrap your leg around me.” rafe helps position you, spreading your legs as his eyes take in your wet cunt, pretty and perfect as he wraps your knee around his hips as he sinks himself down, moving to drape his body over yours.

“ill go slow.” rafe says, hoping he can stay true to his word as he reaches down, running his cock briefly through your folds, obsessed with the way your expression changed into one of pure pleasure.

“okay, just at first.” you nod. you need slow to open you up, to stretch your walls to allow rafes size, but you dont want it to stay slow, needing to feel him pound into you, make a mess of your cunt.

rafe sinks in with a gasp as your tightness and warmth envelops him. “fuck.” he mutters out, eyes squeezing closed as he inserts himself until he’s fully buried inside you pussy.

“feels real good rafey.” you pout. “cant believe we didn’t do this sooner. could already have a baby by now.” “oh, im gonna give you plenty.” rafe bends down to kiss you, letting himself get lost in the kiss, focusing on your mouth against his to distract from his throbbing cock.

“move.” you gasp, starting to grind your hips. “move.”

its all rafe needs to start smashing his hips back and forth, rocking into you in a steady but fast motion, aiming every time to get his cock as deep inside of you as possible.

“yes, yes!” you squeal, hands gripping his shoulders. as good as rafe thrusting into you feels, you want his cum more than anything. you begin to squeeze your pussy around him every time he pulls out before thrusting back in, and you can tell from the way rafes mouth hangs open that he likes it.

“fuck, im already close, sorry.” rafe has never had a problem cumming too early with anyone else, but hes never been with you, his best friend who he’s been head over heels for since kindergarten, who is begging to have him put a baby in your womb.

“cum in me. please.” you don’t even care about your own orgasm. you don’t even want it, already feeling so overwhelmed from the way rafes cock swells inside of you.

your eyebrows raise when you realize what the warmth spreading inside of you is, never having let a man take you without a condom. you let out a moan to match rafes as he cums, flooding your insides as he grinds into you. 

you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down onto you, not caring about the weight as you squeeze your cunt, milking any last drops out of him.

--

“oh my god, i’m gonna cry its so cute.” tears brim in your eyes as you look at your finished nursery, rafe having done the last of the decorations when you were napping, putting the final touches on.

“you're so cute.” he hums, wrapping his arms around you as he stands behind you, also looking over the room. 

“thank you. its perfect.” you sniffle.

“you’re perfect.” rafe has been overwhelming you with compliments lately, wanting to make sure that you know he is still very much attracted to you with your pregnant belly. “and beautiful. and hot. and sexy.” “oh, stop it.” you roll your eyes with a giggle, turning to face rafe.

“it would be inappropriate to have sex in our babies nursery, wouldn’t it?” despite the baby not even being here yet, rafe looks around the former guest bedroom and realizes that it simply wouldn’t be right.

“you’re not getting me on the floor anyways.” you press your hands to your stomach. seven months along with rafes baby.

“probably for the best.” rafe places his hand on your back, leading you out of the nursery and towards your bed. “wanna eat you out on our bed anyways, mamas.”

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @cokepewpsii @mysticallystilinski @luvdella @aerangi @folklorsweet @soilderpoetandking @auryyz

[iamgonnagetyouback]

breakdown ⋆˚࿔

synopsis ⭑.ᐟ james potter x blacksister!reader who breaks down in front of him

warnings: mentions of abandonment, reader has a breakdown

word count: 1,004 words

navigation┆ james potter masterlist┆request here 𝜗𝜚

The halls of Hogwarts were silent this time of night, the only sound the occasional creak of floorboards or the soft wind brushing against the stone walls outside. James Potter had been patrolling—another night of prefect duty—when he saw a figure slumped near a window, head in their hands.

He wouldn’t have paid much attention, probably would’ve assumed it was someone sneaking out past curfew, but the gleam of dark hair caught his eye. He stopped, his heart sinking. It was you.

You and James weren’t friends. In fact, you weren’t friends with anyone, really, except your own family and some Slytherins like Barty, Evan and Pandora. Most people knew to keep their distance from the Black siblings, pure-blooded and cold. You walked with your chin high, always distant and aloof, like you didn’t care about the world around you.

But now, huddled near the window, your shoulders shook with quiet sobs. James hesitated, unsure if he should leave or approach. He wasn’t used to seeing you like this—broken.

Slowly, he stepped forward. “Hey…”

You didn’t respond. Your sobs didn’t falter, and he suddenly felt out of place. He wasn’t supposed to see this—wasn’t supposed to see you like this. But something inside him couldn’t just walk away.

“Black?” His voice was softer this time, unsure, but you still didn’t move. He took another step closer, and that’s when you finally looked up, eyes red and puffy. There was a desperation in your gaze that caught him off guard, and before he could say anything, you shook your head.

“Please…” your voice was hoarse, a whispered plea. “Don’t look at me.”

James froze. He’d seen people cry before, but never like this. Never someone so proud, so unbreakable, shatter in front of him.

You wiped your face quickly, trying to compose yourself, but it was no use. Your mask had already crumbled. You knew James could see everything now—the pain, the hurt, the cracks in the perfect image of the Black family. And for some reason, that made it worse. He wasn’t supposed to see you like this. No one was.

“Look, I didn’t mean to—” he began, but you cut him off.

“Just… don’t,” you choked out, voice shaky. “Please.”

James swallowed hard, guilt flooding him. He could leave, give you your space like you asked, but something in his gut told him that’s not what you really needed.

“What happened?” he asked softly.

You stiffened, staring down at your hands, the silence stretching unbearably. James was about to give up when you finally spoke, your voice barely audible.

“Sirius… he ran away.”

James blinked, his heart skipping a beat. Sirius had only run away from home a few days ago, but he hadn’t told anyone where he’d gone—only that he’d shown up at the Potter’s doorstep with nothing but the clothes on his back. How did you know?

You must have sensed his confusion because you let out a bitter laugh, though it was tinged with more sadness than anything else. “I know he’s with you.”

James’s throat went dry. Of course you knew. Sirius was your brother, after all. But that didn’t explain why you were crying—why the tough, untouchable Black sister had broken down in the middle of a dark corridor.

“He didn’t even tell me,” you continued, voice wavering. “He just… left.”

The words hit James like a blow to the chest. He’d always seen Sirius as invincible, but to you—his sister—Sirius leaving must have felt like betrayal. Like abandonment. And for the first time, James understood. You were left behind to deal with the mess of the Black family while your brother escaped.

You sniffled, wiping your face again, but this time your hands trembled. “I’m supposed to be the strong one. The one who holds it together. But…” You broke off, biting your lip hard, as if trying to stop yourself from crying more. “But I couldn’t. Not this time.”

James crouched down beside you, unsure of what to say. “It’s okay to not be strong all the time,” he said quietly, surprised at how soft his own voice sounded.

You shook your head, squeezing your eyes shut. “Not for me. Not in my family.”

He understood that. The Blacks had a reputation to uphold—a legacy of power, of purity. Emotions had no place in their world.

But you were just a person. A sister who had lost her brother to a world that wasn’t yours.

“I can’t hate him for leaving,” you whispered, almost to yourself. “I just… I just wish he’d told me.”

James’s chest tightened. “He was probably trying to protect you.”

“I don’t need protecting,” you snapped, though the words came out too broken to sound convincing.

Silence stretched between you, the weight of everything pressing down. James wanted to say something to fix it, but he knew there was nothing he could say. Sirius was gone, and you were left to pick up the pieces.

“He’s going to be okay,” James finally said. “I’ll… I’ll look after him.”

You looked up at him then, eyes glassy but determined. For a moment, the vulnerability vanished, and you were the strong, unshakable Black again. But this time, James saw beneath it. Saw the hurt that came with that strength.

“Promise me,” you said softly. “Promise you’ll take care of him. No matter what.”

James nodded, his voice firm. “I promise.”

Your shoulders slumped in relief, but the sadness in your eyes didn’t fade. You stood slowly, brushing off your robes like nothing had happened, though the cracks were still there, visible to him now.

Without another word, you turned to leave, but before you walked away, you paused, looking back over your shoulder. “Thank you,” you whispered.

James opened his mouth to respond, but you were already gone, disappearing into the shadows of the corridor, leaving him alone with the weight of your words.

He’d keep his promise. For you, for Sirius. Because now, more than ever, he understood just how much it mattered.

© iamgonnagetyouback ⋆.˚ please do not copy, translate, or repost any of my work.

[theemporium]

Hii!! May I request 💜 violet fluff number 37 for Luke hughes? Maybe he gets injured in a game and the pain meds he’s put on have him begging for reader to continue playing with his hair as it brings him a comfort?

(btw I love your writing it’s always so so good and when I see your page it always brings a smile to my face <3)

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

37. “You should play with my hair some more."

.

All things considered, the hit could have caused a lot more damage. 

It was a dirty hit, a nasty one that had the whole Devils bench exploding with complaints when the referees had only given the other guy a two minute minor. Luke hadn’t even been allowed to play the rest of the period or the rest of the game for precautionary reasons, instead taken straight to medical to do a full evaluation. 

Nothing was broken but his shoulder was a little roughed up and it hurt like a bitch right now—a pain the doctors assured would ease in the next few days. The doctors had prescribed some strong painkillers to help ease the pain and allow enough relief for Luke to rest tonight. 

Painkillers that seemed a lot more that strong if the boy’s current state was anything to go by. 

“You’re really pretty,” Luke sighed as he turned his head to look at you with a goofy smile. “Like, reaaaaaally pretty.” 

“I know, baby,” you grinned back at him. “You’ve only told me a hundred times in the last ten minutes.” 

He frowned. “That’s not enough. I should tell you more.” 

You snorted, shaking your head. “Those painkillers are really hitting you, aren’t they?” 

“Mhm,” he hummed, nodding his head. “Feel really good right now.” 

“Oh, I bet,” you mused as you reached towards him, pushing some of his curls out of his face and pushing them back. 

“Wanna go home,” he murmured, his eyes fluttering shut as you continued to run your fingers through his hair. “Can we go home now?” 

“Five more minutes, babe,” you assured him, your nails lightly stretching along his scalp as he let out a noise of contentment. Almost like a cat. You had to bite back your laugh at the thought. “Jack is gonna bring the car around so you don’t have to walk too much.” 

“That’s nice of him,” Luke mumbled, his cheek pressed against the pillow as he gave up keeping his eyes open. 

“Gotta stay up for me,” you murmured as you pulled your hand away, lightly stroking his cheek instead but the boy just whined in response. 

“No, why did you stop?” His words were slurred together as he blinked his eyes open, frowning up at you.

“I don’t want you falling asleep right now,” you told him in a soft voice, smiling a little when he leaned his cheek into your hand. “We still need to get home and I don’t think me and Jack will be able to carry you the whole way.” 

“I’ve seen how much he can lift, he’ll be fine,” Luke huffed out in response, slowly blinking as he yawned a little. “You’re going against doctor’s orders.” 

You raised your brows in amusement. “Am I now?” 

“Mhm, the doctor told me what I needed to feel better so you should listen to me,” Luke said, his eyes hooded and tired. “You should play with my hair some more. It’s the quickest road to recovery.” 

You laughed, shaking your head. “Well, if the doctor said so…” 

“S’the first thing he learnt in school,” Luke told you, only to be interrupted by a yawn.

“You’re so lucky Jack isn’t here to hear this,” you murmured as you leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead before returning your fingers to his hair. “He would never let you live any of this down.”

.

[luveline]

since you’re looking for marauders requests could you write more for coworker james? 💗 maybe they kiss again or he asks her out or idk whatever strikes you 💗

ty for requesting <3 fem, 1.2k

You close your eyes on a whim, and he kisses you soundly. His lips part against yours to encourage a similar movement, his head tilted ever so slightly to one side and your noses smudged together. “Please,” he murmurs against your lips. 

You wake up that morning to the memory. Mouth still tingling with phantom warmth, hand on a thigh that isn’t yours. 

“What?” you say, confused. 

Your phone is ringing. There’s the confusion; the noise is loud and sudden and constant. You glare at your nightstand, turning onto your side to grab your phone from the charging wire it’s connected to on the floor by your bed. You stretch, whining at your sore back, and breathless when you finally answer. 

James. 

“Hello?” you croak. No one answers. “James?” 

“Did I wake you up? You sound so tired. Are you okay?” 

Too many sentences. You're tired as he deduced, enough to let the phone lay on your pillow as your eyes slip closed again. 

“No,” you say eventually. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“I mean, you didn’t wake me,” you lie. 

“Oh, good. Do you want to get coffee?” 

“With who?” 

“Ha ha. Very funny. Can I please buy you some coffee? Please. I’d love to get you one before work.” 

You groan into your hands. “What time is it, James?” 

“I didn’t wake you, but you don’t know the time?” he asks sceptically. 

“It’s so early.” You’re whining for no reason, just your bed is warm, the sheets are soft. Your lower back aches, and you’ve never felt as comfortable as you do with James on the line. 

“Well… maybe I can pick you up? We’ll get coffee from the Costa drive-thru?” 

That's scary. You yawn and sniff, sitting up, posture flopped like a poorly fish. Your face feels tight under your hands as you rub your cheeks and eyes, James’ tinny voice echoing from the phone but not comprehensible. 

You push yourself out of bed onto tired feet. Then you drag the phone to your ear. “I’m sorry, James, I need time to wake up. Are you okay?” 

“Why wouldn’t I be okay?” 

“I’m just asking,” you say softly. Isn’t this what you should be doing with one another? Soft questions. You really do care about the answer, after all. He must know that. 

“I’m fine. I’ll feel better when I see you–” You laugh, which stops him in his tracks. “What’s funny?” 

“James. I’m gonna get dressed, alright? Let me get ready and you can pick me up and we can get coffee. Um, in half an hour. Okay?” 

Too tired to feel anxious, you say goodbye to James, wash up and dress yourself for the day ahead, and pack your bag for work. Your phone rings the moment you’ve put on your coat, and it’s not hard to guess who wants to speak to you. 

“Hey,” you say, having clicked answer and pulled it again to your ear. 

“I’m outside, if you’re still coming with me. No pressure.” 

“What do I get if I come with you?” 

“Can you just come and get in the car, please, lovely girl? Before I go insane?” 

Lovely girl, you think, weighing your options. You can continue to tease him, as is best. You could even turn him away. But you haven’t wanted to fight with him half as much as you’ve wanted to kiss him this last week, and you decide to be kind to yourself. “You’re dramatic. I’m coming, just need to lock the door.” 

“Don’t rush, I’m only in agony the longer I go without seeing you.” 

“That’s romantic.” 

“I’m trying to be.” 

“Well, maybe pump the breaks.” You open your door, see his car idling past your driveway. You catch his eye as you continue, “You move too fast.” 

He grins at you. Smirks, eyebrows thick and pulling down over light brown eyes as he drops his phone. “Get in the car,” he mouths. 

You really wish you didn’t want to, if only to drive him mad. He’s all bark and no bite anyways, he can’t be truly mean, doesn’t have it in him, and you’re barely in the car when he’s reaching over to take your hand. “Listen, I have something to ask you… and you don’t have to rush into an answer, I just need you to know I’m thinking about it.” 

You sit silently, your minty mouth suddenly dry. 

“Is that okay? Can I ask you something?” 

“That depends on what you’re gonna ask me.” 

His hand is hot. He smells amazing enclosed in the car together, the radio plays a quiet old rock song from the seventies, and his tie is tight to his throat. He’s handsome, and you make assumptions on what he’s going to ask because he kisses you like he feels the same way about you. Stolen kisses in corridors and elevators, less than you can count on both hands. Each one as capering as the first. 

“Would you– I mean, you’re so special, you’re beautiful, and I just can’t get enough of you. I can’t. And this is sort of awkward to ask you, but I figure it’s about time. I mean, it’s been a week already.” 

Your eyes widen of their own accord. “James…” 

“Would you,” —he rubs the backs of your fingers gently, each pass of his touch a heartbeat— “send me the quarterly returns for me to finish on excel?” He starts to smirk again. “They’re more than a week late now. As department head, I’m getting quite concerned about it.” 

You’re too lulled by his touch to feel mad. “You’re not department head,” you say softly. 

“You’re beautiful.” He leans in across the console for a kiss, the car humming under your legs, his lips their own humming where they press to yours. “And so bad at your job,” he says. 

“That’s not funny.” 

He shrugs. “Are we funny?” he asks. 

You want to tuck a stray curl behind his ear, so you do. “Be nice to me today, or I’m not gonna let you kiss me again.” 

“Where’s the fun in being nice?” 

“Where’s the fun in not kissing me?” you ask.

It’s a bold question, the kind where you’re almost begging to get your own feelings hurts when he answers, because it’s a lot to say to someone who’s nothing more than an annoyance turned crush turned occasional kissing partner, and yet. He looks properly chastened. 

“I’ll be nice from now on,” he promises. 

It’s insane. He got too close to you a week ago and you lost control, asked to kiss him against your better judgement, let him kiss you when he wanted to, and now you’re here. It’s too good to be true. 

You’re waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting, and waiting… 

“You okay?” he asks. 

Doubt clogs your throat. You swallow it down. “Yeah, I’m okay. What do you get from Costa? Coconut milk cappuccino?” 

“No,” he says, leaning over for a kiss, proof of his lie a curve against your lips. “What makes you think that?” 

You smile and struggle to kiss back. He just seems like he’d like a coconut cappuccino.

[resu-w-ana]

Merlin noticed it soon after the magic ban was lifted.

Every time someone used magic around Arthur, the king flinched.

Really, Merlin wasn't expecting Arthur to embrace all magic users with love and trust. He really shouldn't do something stupid like that.

He wasn't sure if Arthur knew about his own reaction or not. It hurt nonetheless.

Constant paranoia and perspective to be burned alive took the best of his desire to show people his magical talents. But the freedom was intoxicating, and whatever Arthur was afraid of magic or not, he would never took it's freedom again.

He had enough work as newly appointed Court Sorcerer to not let his magic idle. The knight and Gwen were here to enjoy pretty tricks too.

So Merlin reduced his magic around the king to doing only necessary things.

Making Arthur comfortable were more important than Merlin's desire to enjoy the beauty of magic with his king.

But the problem accrued from where he least expected.

«Why won't you use magic?»

«I- Ehm, It's possible to do without magic just as easy.»

«I saw you moving dinner plate because you were to lazy to stretch yesterday.»

«I thought I was alone! How do you even know that? Were you spying on me?»

«Oh, come on, Merlin. As if you are that interesting. Doors were open, I was just passing by.»

Even if doors were open, Arthur couldn't accidentally catch him, considering the fact, that there was only one way to Merlin's tower.

Arthur's weird explanation aside, the crisis was averted.

Or so Merlin thought. Because Arthur hadn't stopped.

Every time Merlin did something remotely hard by his hand, Arthur asked the same question: «why won't you use magic?»

Now Merlin was the one running out of weird explanations.

He had no desire to explain his reasoning to Arthur, nor asking Arthur for something he clearly wasn't comfortable with.

Merlin even paid attention to king behaviour around magic more precisely, in case it had changed. But no, the flinching was still there.

Contradicting his own reaction, Arthur cornered him with more determination them ever before.

«So tell me, why knights have no idea about yours so called "proper use of magic".»

«Well... They do know very little about proper use of anything. Especially Gwaine.»

«Yeah, Gwaine, who's apple your turned from green to red because he wished for another variety.»

«I-, Merlin started, as Arthur continued:

«Or should I mention fire figures you do for Leon constantly? The story about Lance's and Gwen's dinner table? Gaius' flying potions?"

Merlin felt guilt creeping onto him.

«Do I need to continue? Because I'm cer–»

«No! No! I got your point!»

«So?»

«So...»

«Explain yourself.»

When Merlin still hesitated, Arthur decided to use lethal weapon: «you promised no more secrets.»

Merlin deflated. «It's not a secret.»

«Then tell me.»

«I've noticed you've tensed whatever magic was around. Decided to spare you the trouble.»

«Oh.»

Suddenly, Arthur wasn't angry anymore. He looked sad and... Guilty?

«It's okay» and «I'm sorry» they said at the same time, than stared at each other.

«You have nothing to be sorry for!» Merlin argued.

«It's not nothing and it's not okay!» Arthur replied.

«That's why I didn't want to tell you! Now you feel like you're doing something wrong or not enough or whatever!»

«Well, that's because I do!»

«No, you're not!»

Arthur sighed. «Look, Merlin... You're not wrong, magic does make me nervous. For all my life, every time someone used it, it was with intention to hurt me.»

He stopped, thinking about his next words. «You are an exception. Yours feel safe.»

«Safe?»

«I don't know how to describe it. It feels warm and... safe. I like it. And I like watching you do magic, too.»

«Oh.»

«Yeah.»

«I'm sorry.»

Arthur smiled. «You can repent your crimes by stopping hiding your magic from me,» he said in playfully serious tone.

Merlin smirked. «Of corse, sire. What would you like to watch now?»

[italiangirlcoresblog]

main masterlist \\ 12 3 days of christmas

-----------------••✩🎅🏻❄️🎄✩••----------------

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐱

✩ : just a (not so) chill post-christmas competition with your boyfriend

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭. : oscar piastri

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : fluff, mature

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 1,3k

✍︎ : couldn’t stop thinking about that one mclaren video so i just wrote it down.

last one-shot of the christmas series! i'm sorry it was so short but i've been super busy with my family and relatives, so this is all i could give you guys (for the same reason, i don't have anything ready for new year's either...)

anyways, i hope you enjoyed it and had an amazing time with your loved ones too 🩷

-------------------------❦︎-------------------------

The morning light filtered softly through the curtains, casting a golden glow on the torn wrapping paper scattered across the living room, untouched since you left it there the day before, warming the room as you passed by. When you walked into the kitchen, lazily stretching your arms over your head with a loud yawn, you were welcomed with a rather unique sight.

Oscar, hair ruffled and still in his pajamas, was quietly humming to a Christmas song coming from Alexa, so focused on whatever he was doing that he didn’t even look up when you made your entrance. You bit back the smirk tugging at your lips: he was far too cute like that, all festive and productive, to take it personally.

“Morning,” he mumbled, his voice still rough and low as he flashed you a sleepy grin; so he had seen you.

“Morning,” you replied, reaching out to peck him gently on the cheek, the way his arm immediately sneaked around your waist making you smile against his skin.

“So,” you pulled back and turned towards the counter behind you, “what’s all this?”

To be fair, now that you looked at them, the chaotic selection of candies, including gummy bears, M&Ms and marshmallows, and the two icing bags lying beside them spoke for themselves, making the answer pretty obvious.

Therefore, you weren’t really surprised when Oscar answered: “We’re making gingerbread houses.”

“And you decided to do this now of all times because…?”

“It’s my revenge for how you played yesterday,” he stated, hands firmly placed on his hips as he eyed you with a knowing glance, though he looked like he was trying his best not to laugh.

You clutched at your chest, mouth hung open in an outraged and mockingly shocked expression. “Excuse me, you mean how I clearly destroyed you at Monopoly?” Your tone was now teasing as an amused smirk played on your lips.

“No, I mean how you destroyed the board when you yeeted it across the room halfway through.”

“It was a strategic retreat,” you waved a hand in the air, absently shrugging off his accusation before grabbing one of the decorating bags and pointing it at his chest. “Ready to lose again?”

“First of all, let’s put this down,” he said while guiding your hands down on the kitchen island with his own. “The icing should go on the houses, not us.”

“Wow, zero faith in me,” you shot back, your unimpressed tone dripping with sarcasm as if being babied by Oscar didn’t affect you in the least — although it, in fact, affected you a lot. “Besides, I know how these things work. How hard can it be?”

“Famous last words,” he sighed, the corner of his mouth twitching into a grin as he finally let go of you.

“Alright,” you ignored him, bubbling over with the same excitement of a child on Christmas morning. “Rules are simple: best gingerbread house wins. No cheating, no crying when you lose.”

“Why are you the one making the rules? I’m pretty sure this was my idea.” He quirked a brow, the playful glint in his eyes matching the now full-blown smile on his face.

“Gingerbread house competition rules are universally known,” you stated matter-of-factly. “So, should I get tissues for you now or later?”

He didn’t say anything, just gave you a warning look before shaking his head, laughing at himself in disbelief as he, too, prepared for your little battle.

It took exactly ten minutes for things to start going sideways.

“Oscar!” Your voice echoed through the room once again, a laugh unwillingly breaking through the annoyance in it. “Stop eating all my decorations!” you scolded him, every word a slap on his arm.

“I’m quality testing,” he explained, mouth full of your candies as he popped yet another one in it.

“You’re sabotaging.” You snatched the package from his hands, sticking out your tongue at his disappointed face.

“Uncalled for,” he muttered under his breath, to which you quickly responded with a sharp ‘Deserved,’ before you both focused back on your work, the kitchen falling into a comfortable silence.

Until.

“Stop staring at me,” you said, not looking up from the counter after you felt his gaze linger on you for the hundredth time.

“I’m not staring.” The amusement in his tone immediately gave him away.

“You so are,” you chuckled, stealing a glance at him from the corner of your eye. “What?” you then asked, your cheeks turning a light shade of pink when you found him already looking at you, a subtle smirk playing on his lips.

He nodded toward your house. “Your wall’s sliding.”

“Mother–” You cursed between your teeth, scrambling to fix it, your fingers sticky with icing as you pressed it back into place.

That’s when you felt it — him.

“What are you doing?” you basically hissed, tensing up as he stepped right behind you, his arms sliding onto the counter on either side of you, caging you in. He just stood still for a moment, his chest warm against your back and his breath hot on your neck as he hovered over you, every nerve in your body suddenly hyperaware of how close he was.

“Helping.” His tone was casual, innocent even, but the way it immediately dropped as he took your smaller hands in his made it clear he knew exactly what he was doing.

“I don’t need help,” you replied sharply — and yet you didn’t pull away, your skin tingling under his touch.

“Mhm,” he hummed in your ear, mock obvious in his voice.

You tried to ignore the shiver that ran down your spine at that simple sound, keeping your eyes stubbornly fixed on the gingerbread house in front of you as you mumbled a weak ‘I’ve got it’ you didn’t even believe yourself.

“Sure you do.” Oscar didn’t miss a beat, his mouth ghosting over your cheek as he spoke, the last bits of self-control you had left finally leaving your body.

Since you didn’t have any smart remark to make this time — not a single thought was actually going through your head — he just kept going, only worsening your already desperate situation.

“You’ve got a little…” His whisper trailed off as he brought a hand up to your flushed face, gently taking your chin between his fingers and turning your head toward him, his thumb moving to brush away a dribble of icing that had ended up on the corner of your mouth.

“Oscar–”

“Hold still,” he murmured, “I missed a spot.”

Your breath caught in your throat when he leaned in, his lips burning on your skin as he darted his tongue out and swiped it over the dirty spot in a lingering kitty lick. But it was when he traced the line of your bottom lip with it that you gave in, an unintentional sigh escaping your mouth as you faced him completely.

Your hands moved in sync, yours sliding under his shirt and trailing to his back, nails scratching their way up, while his left your jaw to grip your hips, lifting you effortlessly onto the counter, sending half of the items on it tumbling to the floor. Needless to say, neither of you cared about the mess.

His fingers moved down to your thighs, digging into the plush skin there and forcing them apart so that he could sneak between your knees, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist to pull him flush against you, the sudden contact making your back arch as he grunted softly.

Oscar’s mouth left yours for a moment, only to start attacking your neck right after, your head tilting back to give him a better access as he nipped at the sensitive spot just above your collarbone.

A mischievous smile stretched on his lips as he licked clean a sprinkle of powdered sugar you hadn’t even noticed, mumbling ‘Sweet’ at the taste of it.

“Was this your plan all along?” You let out a breathless laugh in between your gasps, skin on fire under his every little touch.

He didn’t answer. Didn’t have to. His kisses did all the talking.

-----------------••✩🎅🏻❄️🎄✩••----------------

©italiangirlcoresblog // do not copy, rewrite, or translate any of my work on any platforms

[narcissisticsmoker]

The rain hadn’t let up. It poured in steady sheets, soaking through her clothes as she walked, her arms wrapped around herself, the sting of her fight with him still fresh in her mind.

She shouldn’t be here.

She should be back at his place, apologizing, pretending it didn’t hurt when he brushed her off, pretending she didn’t crave something he had never been able to give her.

But instead, she found herself standing at my door.

Of all places. Of all people.

When I opened it, the sight of her—drenched, breathless, eyes dark with something she didn’t want to name—knocked the air from my lungs.

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

Then, finally, I exhaled, leaning against the frame, studying her. “You lost?”

Her lip twitched like she wanted to smirk, but she didn’t. Instead, she swallowed, her voice quieter than I’d ever heard it.

“I didn’t know where else to go.”

That shouldn’t have made my chest tighten the way it did.

I clenched my jaw, my fingers flexing at my sides. I had every reason to turn her away, to tell her I wasn’t playing this game again. But I didn’t.

“Get inside.”

She hesitated, like she wasn’t sure if stepping through that threshold would be a mistake she couldn’t undo.

But she came in anyway.

I handed her a towel, watching as she ran it over her damp arms, still standing awkwardly in the middle of my apartment like she didn’t know what to do with herself.

“You gonna tell me why you’re really here?” I asked, arms crossed, leaning against the counter.

She let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “He doesn’t see me.”

I stiffened, watching the way her fingers clenched around the fabric of the towel.

“I mean, I’m there. I’m always there. And it doesn’t matter,” she whispered, voice hollow. “I could disappear, and he wouldn’t notice.”

Something in me burned. A deep, possessive rage curling through my gut at the thought of him having her and not realizing what he had.

I pushed off the counter, crossing the room in two strides until I was standing in front of her. Too close.

Her breath hitched. She didn’t step back.

“You think I didn’t notice?” I murmured, tilting her chin up with my fingers, forcing her to look at me. “You think I ever let you fade into the background?”

Her lips parted, but she didn’t say anything.

She didn’t have to.

Because I saw it in her eyes—the craving, the frustration, the unspoken desire that had been left to rot in a relationship that wasn’t enough for her.

And worse?

I saw the way she looked at me like I had been the only one who ever really saw her.

The silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating.

Then she exhaled, closing her eyes, shaking her head. “This is a mistake.”

I chuckled, dark and low. “Yeah?”

She flinched when my fingers skimmed her wrist, when I lifted it between us, dragging her hand up my chest—over my heart, letting her feel the way it pounded beneath her palm.

“Then tell me why your pulse is racing.”

Her breathing stuttered, but she still tried to fight it.

“Tell me why you came to me.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, but I wasn’t letting her run from this.

“Tell me you haven’t thought about this.”

Her hand fisted in my shirt, her nails digging into my chest. “Don’t.”

I smirked. “Tell me you haven’t imagined how it would feel if I touched you the way he doesn’t.”

A broken sound escaped her lips.

And then she snapped.

Her hands grabbed my face, her lips crashing into mine, raw, desperate, starving.

I didn’t hold back.

My fingers tangled in her damp hair, pulling her closer, devouring her. I felt the frustration in the way she kissed me, the months of neglect, of longing, of fighting something she had already lost.

I backed her against the wall, pinning her there, letting her feel everything I had been holding back.

She whimpered when I bit at her lip, dragging my hands down her body, gripping her hips, pressing her harder against me. “Tell me to stop,” I murmured against her mouth.

She didn’t.

Her hands fisted in my hair, her nails dragging down my back, pressing into my skin like she needed to hold onto something real.

I groaned, my grip tightening. “Say it.”

Her only response was a moan, soft, breathless.

I chuckled, dark and low, dragging my lips down her jaw, my hands teasing, exploring every inch of her with slow, agonizing precision.

“Look at you,” I whispered against her skin. “He had you, and he didn’t even know what to do with you.”

She whimpered, her head falling back against the wall.

“But I do, don’t I?”

Her fingers clawed at me, pulling me closer, as if she couldn’t stand the space between us anymore.

“Tell me to stop.”

“I can’t.”

That was all I needed.

I lifted her easily, her legs wrapping around my waist, carrying her to the bedroom, to the place she should have always been.