#or Get It and hate it slightly less because you know why it's Like That but you're upset about it anyway

[zyafics-recs]

reblogging comment review by @zyafics

LITERALLY FINISHED AN ASSIGNMENT AND NOW I CAN TAKE A BREATH LETS GOOOO (long annotations below ⬇️)

Arrogant, volatile, downright psychotic — Rafe was a walking disaster.

my psychopath lets gooo

The cabin was small and sparsely furnished: a bunk, a tiny porthole high on the wall, and a single chair bolted to the floor.There was a faint hum of the ship's engines, a constant reminder that you were far from land and any chance of immediate rescue.

ur descriptions paints the scene of s2ep10 when they were on the ship so well, like i remember staring at your words going: wow 😦

"They left. Now, you're my problem. Lucky me.""Now, what am I going to do with you?"

why r all the crazy ones so fine

“To you? Or Ward? Do you only get this cocky when daddy’s not around to rein you in?”

i love LOVE when the reader provokes rafe using his father like bro that's such a trigger for him rein it in 😭

The punch came so fast, you didn’t see it coming. Pain exploded across your jaw, and you tasted blood. He grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him. “You don’t fucking talk about her, dirty pogue. Ever.”

YOOOOOO 😡

The path led deeper into the heart of the island, the dense foliage casting long shadows as the sun began to set.

god, i love ur descriptions so much u don't understand i'm taking notes as i read this 📝

He blinked, momentarily thrown off guard by your words, “Stay out my fucking way or I’ll kill you myself.”

i love how much of a psychopath he is in this fic, like yes, this is the crazy man of s2 (i can fix him 🤞🏻)

He was a product of his environment, molded by a father who saw him as nothing more than a means to an end.

YES, i love maybank!reader's deep analysis of rafe bc we know and that doesn't excuse his behavior but it helps us understand him 🥹

But beneath it all, there was something else. Something you’d seen before, when you looked at yourself in the mirror after you took the biggest beating of your life and Luke finally got thrown into jail: hope. 

i love her lore so so much!!

And you began to see a way out, not just for yourself, but for Rafe too.

she's a love not a fighter fr 😩

"Because he's family. And sometimes, family is all you have. Even when they’re terrible, even when they hurt you, sometimes you can’t just walk away.""Family's supposed to be everything, right?"

my daddy issues babies, sometimes i wanna push u two together like barbie and ken during play sessions (am i making sense idk anymore)

The sight of the blood staining your arm made his expression shift from bewilderment to fury.

I LOVE LOVE LITTLE DETAILS LIKE THIS

“Shut up. Just… shut up.” He turned back to you, his eyes softening slightly as he took in the sight of your injured arm

he has a heart !!!!

"So this is all about you, then? Your precious ass and how it looks to Ward? Typical Cameron bullshit, only caring about themselves."You don't know what you're talking about," he said, his voice dangerously low. "You think this is easy for me? Keeping you safe, dealing with all this? It's not just about me. It's about keeping everything under control."

one of the things i admire so heavily with your writing is ur ability to write tense dialogues, the way they fight back and forth with words!! like i love it so so much!!

"You're impossible," he hissed, his voice a raw whisper."And you’re a coward," you shot back, your voice equally low but no less fierce.The next moment happened in a blur. Rafe’s grip tightened, and before you could process what was happening, his lips crashed into yours with a ferocity that left you breathless.

LOVE LOVE A HATE KISS

The kiss was rough and desperate, fueled by anger and frustration, a collision of two souls too damaged to recognize the depths of their own pain.And yet, beneath the layers of animosity and resentment, there was a spark—as if you were both too messed up to understand how much you needed each other.

the poetry!!! shakespeare!!! u can write hamlet but can william write this?!?!?

"You're impossible," he muttered against your lips, the words barely audible over the sound of your heavy breathing."And you’re an asshole,” you shot back, your voice breathless, your body arching into his touch.He pulled back just enough to look at you, the tip of his nose brushing against yours slightly "Drive me fucking crazy.”

i love when they're making out but they find ways to take shots at each other "I hate you," you panted, pouring as much venom into your words as possible. Your thighs tightened around his hips, feeling every inch of him against you. “Your body doesn’t,” He replies coldly, each syllable slowly drawn from his throat, "“Fucking asshole.”“Fucking brat.”

he's such a prick 😭 i want him in my bed

"Eyes on me,” he growled, his voice rough and commanding. "Let me see you.”

one of the hottest things a man can say to me

“Y-You—“ He sighed, pausing, “Don’t pull that shit again. I’ll get you out, okay? 

one of my favorite scenes got me kicking my feet like a school girl (dude u CARE stfu 😭)

“We’re getting out.”You wanted to believe in him more than anything. In that moment, it was the only thing that mattered, “Yeah?"“Yeah, pretty Maybank. You and me."“Okay.”“Okay.”

I'M OBSESSED WITH YOUR WORDS OH MY GOD

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

FINAL THOUGHTS | okay okay, let me catch my breath because that smut (their banter!!) was so fucking hot 🥵 (why do i use emojis like a middle school boy? anyways) i think what i truly noticed from this fic is how compelling you can make a scene. the way you built transitions so seamlessly through strong descriptions about what's going on (plot wise!) and it's such an admirable skill that i deeply deeply wish i have. especially because the language and vocabulary you use are so clean and expressive without making the audience (like me) feel dumb about not knowing the definition (does that make sense?) also also. as i always point out, i'm obsessed with your build-up dialogues. right before we hit the intense parts, you manage to build up this anticipation and adrenaline from reader and rafe arguing back and forth. and what i appreciate is how you kept the enemies part of enemies to lovers all the way through, only concluding that reader feels complicated near the end. like i love that she didn't fold; she continues to be defiant and her and that brings me to another trait i love about ur writing: ur consistency in your readers. if u plan on making a certain reader rebellious, you keep it to the very end and i love that. oops, this is getting a little too long. anyways, as always, incredible work gigi, i would love to see more of maybank!reader from you especially a second part to their escape (and what it means for them to be back in obx together?? her brother's reaction?? 🫠)

THE OTHER SIDE OF PARADISE - rafe cameron (+18)

request: "a rafe enemies to lovers 🫣 the reader is jjs sister the whole drama before but then she gets left behind on the ship and rafe ends up comforting her and then yea that’s all I got you can do whatever else the rest 😛" + "def some little smut during the enemies part and a long story"

WARNINGS: maybank!reader; kidnapping; smut!; violence!; rafe is a red flag; guns and blood; p in v; they tell each other to shut the fuck up a lot lmao;

word count: 8k...im sorry

The sun dipped low, painting the Outer Banks marshes in shades of fiery orange. Tensions between the Kooks and the Pogues had hit a fever pitch, and in the middle of it all? Rafe Cameron, the last person you'd want to encounter. Ever. 

Every run-in with him left a bitter taste in your mouth, lingering for days. It was like he had a knack for getting under your skin. Arrogant, volatile, downright psychotic — Rafe was a walking disaster. Each interaction with him sucked the life out of you. You were convinced that nothing good could ever come from being around him. And yet, there you were, another Maybank, caught in the chaos of the island's most influential family feud.

You knew the risks, but loyalty drove you forward. And now? Well, now you were in deep shit.

Your plan had been reckless, fueled by the desperate need to save Sarah from her deranged family and retrieve Pope's stolen cross. Everything had gone smoothly until chaos erupted, and you found yourself abruptly yanked away from the corridor by a strong grip on your arm, before you could even call out for your brother and Kie. Another hand clamped over your mouth, stifling any attempts to scream. In a blur, you were dragged into a dimly lit cabin, the men's hold on you unyielding. Struggling was futile against his iron grip. He tossed you inside, slamming the door shut and locking it behind him. The gravity of your situation hit hard immediately – you were alone, at the mercy of Ward Cameron. The man who'd silenced anyone who dared oppose him, even going as far as faking his own death, kidnapping his own daughter, and manipulating his son into committing murder. 

Because in his twisted world, family trumped everything. Even murder.

Your mind raced as you took in your surroundings. The cabin was small and sparsely furnished: a bunk, a tiny porthole high on the wall, and a single chair bolted to the floor. There was a faint hum of the ship's engines, a constant reminder that you were far from land and any chance of immediate rescue. You quickly assessed your options. The door was solid, and you didn't have anything strong enough to force it open. Fuck, fuck fuck. 

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. Panic wouldn't help; you needed a plan. But then, like a nightmare come to life, the devil himself stepped into the room, his eyes piercing as they landed on you. The man who had captured you stood behind him, a smug grin on his face. 

Rafe was visibly surprised to see you, but he quickly concealed it behind a cold, calculating expression. His forehead glistened with sweat, his hair damp and sticking to his temples. His shirt clung to his back, soaked through from the scorching heat, and beads of perspiration trickled down his face. He wiped his brow with a weary hand and his gun gleamed ominously in the dim light.

"Well shit,” Rafe said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Look what we have here. Didn't expect to see ya again so soon pretty Maybank.”

You tried to keep your expression neutral, but your mind was racing with questions. Where were your friends? Were they safe? Was your brother even alive? Before you could ask, Rafe continued, his tone mocking. 

"Your brother really did a number on you, huh? Left you behind without a second thought. Typical Maybank shit, huh? Always knew you were unreliable."

Son of a bitch. You clenched your fists, fighting to keep your composure. "You're lying," you countered, your voice steady despite the fear gnawing at you, "He wouldn't leave me."

Not unless he was forced to.

Rafe chuckled, a dark, humorless sound. "Believe what you want. They left. Now, you're my problem. Lucky me."

“You’re lying.”

His eyes gleamed with a dangerous glint as he advanced towards you. You took a step back, but there was nowhere to go. The cold, metal wall pressed against your back, mirroring the chill that had settled in your bones.

"Now, what am I going to do with you?" he mused, tilting his head as if genuinely contemplating your fate. The gun in his hand swung lazily at his side, but you knew better than to think it wasn't ready to be used at a moment's notice. You swallowed hard, your mind frantically searching for a way out of this hellhole. He was unpredictable and volatile; years of snorting cocaine and family trauma did that to some people. 

But maybe, just maybe, you could reason with him. 

“Rafe, listen. You don't have to do this. Let me go and we can both walk away from this. No one has to get hurt."

Again. 

His laugh was sharp and bitter. "You think I'm going to let you go just because you asked nicely?" He stepped closer, his breath hot against your face. "Nah. You're going to stay right here until I decide what to do with you.“ 

You tried to keep your breathing steady, but fear clawed at your chest. The odds were against you, as they had always been your entire life.

"What do you want, Rafe? The cross? We can make a deal."

His eyes narrowed, the amusement fading. 

"You think this is about money? About that fucking cross? This is about power. Control. And right now...huh, shit, I control you." He leaned in, his voice a deadly whisper. "The cross is mine now. How do you feel about the Bahamas?”

Your top lip curled in disgust, “I’d rather drown.”

His smile twisted into something even darker. “I think you’re worth more alive, at least for now.”

You refused to show him any more fear. “To you? Or Ward? Do you only get this cocky when daddy’s not around to rein you in?”

Rafe’s expression hardened, and for a moment, you thought you’d pushed him too far. He leaned in close, his eyes cold and unforgiving. 

“Watch your fucking mouth, Maybank. You don’t know anything about my family.”

You laughed bitterly, unable to stop yourself. “Yeah, no. You're right. Just that you're dad’s little lapdog, doing his dirty work while he pretends to be some upstanding citizen. And where’s your mom in all this? Oh! She left.”

The punch came so fast, you didn’t see it coming. Pain exploded across your jaw, and you tasted blood. He grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him. “You don’t fucking talk about her, dirty pogue. Ever.”

Anger took over you like wildfire, burning hotter than the pain. Your jaw throbbed, but the rage was stronger. You wanted to hit him back, to wipe that smug look off his face, to make him feel the hurt he had inflicted on you. Your fists clenched at your sides, every muscle in your body taut with the desire for retribution. The fury in your eyes matched the darkness in his.

You spat blood at his face, glaring up at him defiantly. “You’re just a puppet. Your sister hates you, your dad uses you, and deep down, you know it. You’ll never be more than his bitch.” 

His grip tightened painfully, rough fingers digging into your flesh, lips twitching into a snarl, but you didn’t flinch. If you were going down, you’d go down fighting. His eyes flickered with something you’d never seen in him, before he released you, stepping back. “You think you’re so smart, don’t you? So tough.”

“Smarter than you,” you shot back. “At least I know who I am. What are you, Rafe?“

He stared at you, tongue pressed against his cheek, eyebrows furrowed. Then he laughed, a harsh, grating sound that sent chills down your spine. His hand reached out, and your breath stilled throat tightening as he fiddled with a lock of your hair. He’d let out another laugh, entirely dismissive of the trepidation you’d felt stuck.

“You’ve got guts, Maybank. It's gonna get you killed.“

You wiped the blood from your mouth, meeting his gaze with unwavering defiance. “I’ve survived worse than you.”

And you had. If anything prepared you for violence, drugs, and pain, was living with Luke Maybank your entire life. And maybe, if you didn’t hate Rafe with every fiber of your being, after everything he’d done, you’d feel sorry for him. But you didn’t, and he sure as hell didn't feel sorry for you. 

For a moment, the room was silent except for the low hum of the ship’s engines. Then Rafe turned on his heel, motioning to the man by the door. “Watch her. Make sure she doesn’t go anywhere.”

“Do I look like fucking Michael Phelps? Where the fuck would I go? We’re on a ship you crazy bastar—Hey! Rafe! Open the fucking door!” 

The door slammed shut behind him, the sound echoing through the small, dimly lit cabin. You listened to his footsteps fade away, feeling a sense of relief and dread settle in your chest. What the fuck had you gotten yourself into? They could kill you, dispose your body in the ocean and no would give a single fuck. No one would think you’d gone missing, because you’re a Maybank and that’s what your kind of people did, apparently. Your brother would probably assume you’re dead, he’d try to get justice and fail in the end, because the rich always won.

The musty air of the cabin felt oppressive as you turned away from the small porthole, where the bright sun and endless expanse of blue ocean taunted you from beyond. Days had melded into one another, each marked only by the arrival of meals and the sporadic presence of Rafe. You had hoped for some sense of clarity, some hint of what your future held, but his visits offered nothing but insults and foreboding silence.

You paced the small room, your mind racing with the possibilities of what they had planned for you. The guard remained a silent sentinel, a constant reminder that escape was not an option. But then, the cabin door creaked open again, and you tensed as Ward Cameron stepped in, his presence commanding immediate attention. 

He gave a nod to the guard, who stepped out, leaving you alone with the man who held your fate in his hands. A fucking lunatic with enough means to play for all the dramatics he enjoyed. Great.

"Get comfortable," Ward said, his voice smooth but carrying an edge that set your nerves on edge. "We're almost there."

"Almost where?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

"The Bahamas," he replied, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "A little slice of paradise, if you will."

"And what happens then?" you pressed, needing to know more.

Ward studied you for a moment, as if weighing how much to reveal. “Keep out of sight, stay quiet. Rafe and I have some business to attend to, and we can't afford any distractions."

"And if I refuse?" you challenged, though you knew the answer.

Ward's smile widened, but there was no warmth in it. "Let's not be stupid, sweetheart. You're here because you know too much. Refusing isn't an option. Cooperation, however…”

A chill ran down your spine at his words. The stakes were clear, and you realized that your only chance was to play along, at least until you could figure out a way to escape this nightmare.

The rest of the day passed in a tense haze. Eventually, you felt the ship slow, the engines quieting as you approached your destination. When the door opened again, Rafe was there, his expression unreadable.

"Time to go," he said simply, motioning for you to follow, "Move."

You stepped out onto the deck, the warm, salty breeze hitting your face as you looked around. The sight of the lush, tropical landscape did little to ease your anxiety. You were led to a smaller boat, and soon you were speeding towards a secluded island, the main landmass of the Bahamas visible in the distance. This was a world away from the familiar streets and faces of The Cut. It was straight out of a postcard. Something you and JJ would fantasize about while high of your asses and writing bucklists. 

God, JJ. You only hoped he made it. You’d never gone a day without each other before you were dragged into this mess last summer. It wasn’t fair. You only wanted enough money to get by, an easy fix to get everything sorted, finish college, ship your dad somewhere far away from you two. But Ward’s greedy ass had to ruin everything for you. 

As the boat neared the shore, you couldn't shake the feeling of impending doom. The island loomed closer, its pristine beaches and swaying palm trees offering a stark contrast to the danger that lurked just beneath the surface.

Rafe’s hand gripped your arm, his grasp tight and unyielding as he led you onto the sandy beach. Ward followed close behind, his expression unreadable as he surveyed the scene before him.

"This way," he said, his voice cutting through the sound of the waves crashing against the shore. You followed obediently, your mind racing with possibilities. Escape seemed unlikely, but you clung to the slim hope that you could find a way out of this mess. As you walked, you couldn't help but wonder what awaited you on this remote island.

The path led deeper into the heart of the island, the dense foliage casting long shadows as the sun began to set. You could feel the weight of Ward and Rafe's gazes on you, their presence a constant reminder of the mess you were in.

Finally, you reached a clearing, and your heart sank as you saw what awaited you. A small house. In the middle of nowhere. Oh god, you were a dead woman. 

“This will be your home for the time being," Ward said, his voice cold and unfeeling, as if he was offering you a vacation rental and not kidnapping you. You wanted to protest, to demand answers, but you knew it was futile, there was a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, it practically swallow you whole. 

“My son will be keeping you company, don’t get too excited.” 

The way Rafe’s head snapped in his father’s direction told you more than what you needed to know. Once again, daddy dearest was calling the shots without taking his opinion into consideration. Ward’s casual cruelty was suffocating, a stark reminder of the power he wielded over everyone. As he turned to leave, leaving no space of negotiations or pleadings, Rafe’s eyes bored into yours. No questions asked, only blind devotion to his father. 

The door slammed shut, leaving you alone with Rafe once more. He looked at you, resentment playing across his face and something inside you urged you to fight. 

“I’m not going to make this easy for you," you said, your voice a low growl, “I’m not dying here. Not with you.” 

Rafe chuckled, greasy bangs moving as he shook his head, “You really think you have a choice here?” He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming in the confined space, “You think you’re special? Nah, Maybank. He’ll get rid of you eventually, don’t worry.”

“Exactly. He will, not you. You don’t have any control either and I think you hate being here as much as I do. That shit makes us both prisoners.”

He blinked, momentarily thrown off guard by your words, “Stay out my fucking way or I’ll kill you myself.”

You were sure he wouldn't, only if Ward asked him to. He’d fucked up enough before, when he accidentally shot Sarah and didn’t look the slightest bit apologetic. You know he wouldn’t do it again, not if he wanted to keep his head on his shoulder and his trust fund. Ward Cameron hated slips ups, hated even more the monster he raised, but he sure came in handy when he needed him. 

Rafe’s words hung in the air like a noose, but you refused to let them tighten around your neck. "Empty threats," you shot back, squaring your shoulders. "I've dealt with bigger monsters than you, Rafe."

For a moment, a flicker of doubt passed through his blue eyes. They were bloodshot red, perhaps from the lack of sleep or maybe because he was high off his mind, you didn’t care to ask. But just as quickly, his usual sneer returned. "Enjoy your stay, Maybank.”

With that, he turned and left the room. Him and the stupid slamming of doors. You were alone again, your pulse racing but your resolve intact. You had to get out of here. You knew it wouldn't be easy, but you were a Maybank—survival was in your blood. You took stock of your surroundings once more, this time with a sharper eye. The walls were thin, the windows barred, but there had to be some weakness, some way to exploit the situation. You ran your fingers along the seams of the walls, looking for anything that might give. Your mind raced through every piece of advice JJ had ever given you about breaking and entering. You’d done a lot of that over the years, and while most people thought you pogues were simply criminals, they never cared enough to ask why you and your brother spent so much time in and out of the sheriff’s department. 

So, what if two dirty, no-good kids were barely hanging on for dear life? No one gave a shit. 

Weeks blurred into each other, each one marked by the same routine. Rafe's visits, Ward's looming threats, and the endless search for an opportunity to escape. You watched Rafe carefully, noting his every move, his every interaction with Ward. You noticed the way Ward belittled him, treating him more like a tool than a son. It was a toxic dynamic, one that made you wonder if Rafe was as much a victim as you were. You’d seen bits and pieces before, but Sarah had described Ward as some sort of saint up until recently. Rafe on the other hand? Their dynamic was so different from what you were used to. You and JJ were like two peas in a pod, you’d die for him and you know he would do the same, no questions asked. If there was one good thing in your life, it was your brother. 

You couldn't help but feel a twinge of pity for Rafe, despite everything he'd done. He was a product of his environment, molded by a father who saw him as nothing more than a means to an end. 

You saw the cracks in his armor, the moments of doubt and vulnerability. The way his hands would shake every time Ward raised his voice, the way he would bite his nails to hide the embarrassment booming in his cheeks. How he never walked into his father’s space or any other room without announcing his presence. It gave you whiplash. 

You began to argue less with him, your animosity slowly giving way to a grudging understanding. You hated feeling so…forgiving. This boy had done unspeakable things to you and your friends, to your family…and there you were. Feeling sorry for him like you didn’t know better. 

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the small house, Rafe brought you dinner. He placed the plate on the table, his movements tense, his expression unusually subdued. Strangely so, you’d memorized that expression. You didn’t even have to ask to understand what had gotten under his skin. You watched him for a moment before speaking.

"Why do you let him treat you like that?" you asked, your voice softer than usual. You didn’t understand why you did it. You regretted the words the moment they came out of your lips, but there was something inside itching you to ask. 

Rafe's eyes snapped to yours, rage and something else—pain—flashing in them. "What the hell do you know about it?" he snapped, but there was less bite in his words. 

At this point he just sounded tired. 

"I understand,” you replied, thinking of your own father. "I know what it's like to want to prove yourself, to be more than what they think you are."

Rafe's jaw clenched, his eyes dropping to the floor. For a moment, he looked lost, like a boy searching for something he could never find. "You don't know shit," he muttered, but there was no conviction in his voice.

"I know enough," you said quietly. "You don't have to keep doing this. You don't have to be his puppet."

He laughed bitterly, shaking his head. "You think it's that simple?"

"Maybe not. But you can choose to be better than him. You can choose to stop this.”

Rafe looked at you, really looked at you, for the first time. It was borderline unnerving. The weight of his stare. The way your stomach flip-flops under his attention. 

“Shut the fuck up and eat, Maybank."

But beneath it all, there was something else. Something you’d seen before, when you looked at yourself in the mirror after you took the biggest beating of your life and Luke finally got thrown into jail: hope. 

He didn't say anything, just turned and walked out, leaving you alone. 

Again. 

The days continued to pass, but something had shifted. Rafe was less hostile, more contemplative. He didn't treat you as roughly, didn't hurl as many insults. It was a small change, but it was there. And you began to see a way out, not just for yourself, but for Rafe too. You knew what he did, knew what he was capable of, but no one deserved to rot in hell with someone like Ward. You needed to bide your time, to wait for the right moment. And when that moment came, you had to be ready to act. 

Another day began with the same oppressive heat. The sun had just started to rise, casting a golden hue over the island. You were in the small kitchen of the house, preparing a meager breakfast from the limited supplies you had. The routine had become almost mechanical, a way to keep your mind occupied and stave off the rising panic.

Rafe entered the kitchen, eyes barely open as he wiped the sleep away. He poured himself a glass of whiskey, the sound of the liquid hitting the glass breaking the silence. He stood with his back to you, staring out the window. 

“What’s Luke like?”

You froze, your hands pausing mid-motion. It was an unexpected question, one that cut deep and made you want to hurl on the spot even though you hadn’t had anything to eat yet. 

“Why do you want to know?" you asked cautiously, trying to keep your voice steady.

Rafe shrugged, still not turning to face you. "Just curious. You Maybanks are a tight bunch, right? So what's he like?"

Tight bunch…that was one way to put it. 

You took a deep breath, trying to decide how much to reveal. "He’s a drunk, a thief. But he's still my dad."

He finally turned to look at you, his eyes narrowing. "So why do you stick around? Why not just leave him?"

You knew what he was trying to do, giving you a taste of your own medicine. You couldn’t blame him. 

You met his gaze, the raw honesty of your answer surprising even you. "Because he's family. And sometimes, family is all you have. Even when they’re terrible, even when they hurt you, sometimes you can’t just walk away."

Rafe seemed to consider this, his expression unreadable. "Family's supposed to be everything, right?" His voice carried a bitter edge, hinting at his own unresolved conflicts.

"That's what they say," you replied quietly.

He took another sip of his whiskey, his eyes never leaving yours. "Must be tough, having a dad like that."

Tough? It’s heartbreaking. Knowing that the one person who was supposed to love you, cherish you and protect you for life never gave a single fuck about his kids? Yeah, sure it’s “tough”

You nodded, a sad smile playing on your lips. "Guess we have that in common.”

Rafe looked away, his jaw tightening. "Yeah, we do." He set his glass down with a heavy thud, the sound resonating in the small kitchen.

For a moment, the two of you stood in silence, but then he took a deep breath, his shoulders sagging slightly. "I get it," he said quietly. "More than you know."

You watched him, the way his fingers ran along the rim of the glass. "Then why do you keep doing this? You don’t have to."

His eyes blazed with anger. “It's not that simple," he snapped. "You think I have a choice? I killed someone. For him.” 

It was the first time he had said those words out loud. And it made him sick to his stomach. That he’d been scared and high enough to do something so reckless, just so they wouldn’t take away his dad. 

"We always have a choice," you countered, your voice firm. "Maybe not the best ones, but we can always choose to be better."

He stared at you for a long moment, his expression a tumult of emotions. Then he shook his head, turning away. "You don't know anything," he muttered, but there was less conviction in his words than before.

"I know enough," you said softly, watching his retreating back. "And so do you."

He paused at the doorway, his hand gripping the frame tightly. Without turning around, he spoke, his voice low and strained. "I'll see you later."

As he left, the kitchen felt colder, but you knew you had reached him, even if just a little. And that gave you hope.

After that, Rafe’s visits were less frequent, and when he did come by, there was an uneasy tension between you both. You couldn't tell if it was the weight of your conversations or the sheer exhaustion of being trapped in this toxic cycle. Still, every interaction chipped away at the walls he'd built around himself, revealing glimpses of the person he might have been, had his life taken a different path.

Tonight, the air was still, the only sound was the gentle lapping of waves against the shore. You had been biding your time, watching for the perfect moment to make your escape. The house was quiet, Ward was gone and you hadn’t seen Rafe in two days. By now, you knew how the guards outside fell asleep before 2am like clockwork. 

You could it. 

This was your chance, and you couldn't afford to waste it.

You moved silently, slipping out of the small bedroom and into the hallway. Every creak of the wooden floorboards seemed to echo in the stillness, and you held your breath, praying you wouldn't be caught. The front door loomed ahead, your path to freedom. Your heart raced as you slowly turned the handle, wincing at the faint click that accompanied the action.

The night air hit you like a wave as you stepped outside, the cool breeze a stark contrast to the oppressive heat that had been your constant companion. You glanced around, ensuring the coast was clear, then made your way towards the small boat moored at the edge of the beach. The plan was simple: get to the boat, start the engine, and head for the main island where you could find help.

You kept low, moving quickly but cautiously, every step bringing you closer to your goal. The boat was within reach when a noise behind you made your blood run cold. 

The crunch of gravel underfoot was unmistakable. You turned sharply, and in the dim moonlight, the silhouette of one of the guards emerged from the shadows. The asshole who’d gotten you here in the first place. He was closer than you had anticipated. Your heart pounded, adrenaline surging through your veins as you broke into a sprint, abandoning stealth for speed.

"Stop!" the guard shouted, his voice carrying across the trees. You didn't dare look back, your eyes locked on the boat. A sharp crack split the night—a gunshot. You felt a searing pain in your arm, but you couldn't stop. You pushed through the pain, your goal now just a few yards away.

Another gunshot rang out, but you were too focused to determine where it landed. You reached the boat, hands trembling as you fumbled with the ropes. The pain in your arm intensified, but you forced yourself to keep moving. Suddenly, a heavy hand grabbed your shoulder, spinning you around. You struggled, kicking and thrashing, but he was stronger. He pulled you to the ground, pinning you down as he radioed for backup.

"Got her," he said into the radio, his breath hot against your ear. You tried to wriggle free, but his grip tightened. Moments later, two more guards arrived, hauling you to your feet and dragging you back towards the house.

Your mind raced the sting in your arm a painful reminder of your failed attempt. As they pulled you inside, the walls seemed to close in around you, your brief taste of freedom slipping away.

Moments felt like hours as you sat in the chair, the pain in your arm throbbing with each heartbeat. The quiet murmurs of the guards outside were interrupted by the heavy, hurried footsteps of someone approaching. The door flew open, and there stood Rafe, disheveled and wild-eyed, a gun clutched tightly in his hand.

“What the fuck is going on?” he barked, his voice a volatile mix of anger and confusion. His gaze scanned the room, landing on you. 

The sight of the blood staining your arm made his expression shift from bewilderment to fury.

He stormed towards you, his eyes blazing. “What happened?” he demanded, his voice low but dangerous. Before you could answer, he whirled around to face the guards who had re-entered the room. “Are you fucking kidding me?” Rafe shouted, waving his gun erratically. “She’s bleeding! I try to sleep in peace and this is what I come back to?”

The guards exchanged nervous glances, shifting uncomfortably under Rafe’s glare. “She was trying to escape, Mr. Cameron,” one of them stammered. “We had to stop her.”

His expression twisted with rage. “So you fucking shot her?” His voice dripped with incredulity and disdain. “Do you even understand what you’ve done? My father wants her in once piece.”

The guard who had caught you tried to explain, but Rafe cut him off. “Shut up. Just... shut up.” He turned back to you, his eyes softening slightly as he took in the sight of your injured arm. Or maybe the pain was making you delirious.

 “We need to get that cleaned up,” he muttered, more to himself than to anyone else. Without another word, he holstered his gun and gently took your uninjured arm, pulling you to your feet. The guards looked on, unsure of what to do or say. 

Rafe shot them a deadly look. “Get out,” he snapped. “Before I shoot you bitches myself.”

Once Ward’s men had left, Rafe's demeanor changed. His concern, which had briefly softened his striking features, hardened back into anger. He ran a hand through his long hair, pacing the small bathroom before finally stopping in front of you. His eyes were intense, burning with frustration.

He sneered at you, his voice dripping with disappointment and exasperation, "I thought you had some brains in that pretty little head of yours," he spat out, his frustration palpable. "What were you even thinking? Do you realize how close you came to getting yourself killed?"

You tried to speak, to defend yourself, but he didn't give you the chance. His words came fast, each one like a dagger aimed at my heart. "You could've died out there! A bullet barely missed you—do you even understand how lucky you are?"

His fists clenched at his sides, his eyes burning into yours. "I just don't get it. Do you think you're invincible? Because you're not. You're just..." He stopped himself, taking a deep breath as if trying to regain control of his temper. "You're just reckless," he continued, his voice quieter but still seething with anger. "You didn’t think about the consequences, about what it would do to..."

He trailed off, his attention faltering for a moment before snapping back to you. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the battle between knocking you out cold and something else—maybe concern, maybe fear.

"Don't act like you give a shit about me," you called after him, your voice trembling with both pain and defiance.

He stopped in his tracks, his back stiffening for a moment before slowly turning to face you. The fury in his eyes was matched only by the bitterness in your own. "I don't," he retorted, his tone icy. "But my ass is on the line too. You think Ward won't come down on me if something happens to you?"

You stood up, despite the throbbing pain in your arm, facing him head-on. "So this is all about you, then? Your precious ass and how it looks to Ward? Typical Cameron bullshit, only caring about themselves."

Rafe's eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching. "You don't know what you're talking about," he said, his voice dangerously low. "You think this is easy for me? Keeping you safe, dealing with all this? It's not just about me. It's about keeping everything under control."

You scoff through your nose "Here we go again. Control? You think dragging me back here, shooting at me, is control? It's chaos, Rafe. You're just as trapped as I am, and you can't stand it."

His face twisted showcasing his wrath, and he took a step towards you, closing the distance. "Shut up!” he growled. "You don’t understand the pressure I'm under. The expectations, the demands. I didn’t ask for any of this."

"And neither did I," you shot back, a strict finger aimed at his face in warning, “So shut the fuck up.”

He took another step towards you, his face inches from yours, his breath hot and ragged.

"You have no idea what you're talking about," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "You think this is just about me? It's about keeping everything from falling apart. It's about—"

Before he could finish, you grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him even closer, your faces almost touching. "I don’t care about your excuses, Rafe. I don’t care about your pressures or your fucking control. All I know is I’m not staying here.”

The look he gave you was filled with enough ire to have a hint of satisfaction sparking in your chest, the hollow beneath his dark brows deepening as his classical features twisted into an expression of silent hatred. His breath came in short, sharp bursts. His hands came up, gripping your waist, not gently but not roughly either, as if he couldn’t decide whether to push you away or pull you closer.

"You're impossible," he hissed, his voice a raw whisper.

"And you’re a coward," you shot back, your voice equally low but no less fierce.

The next moment happened in a blur. Rafe’s grip tightened, and before you could process what was happening, his lips crashed into yours with a ferocity that left you breathless. His mouth was demanding, almost punishing, and you responded, your hands fisting in his shirt, pulling him closer even as you wanted to push him away.

The kiss was rough and desperate, fueled by anger and frustration, a collision of two souls too damaged to recognize the depths of their own pain. And yet, beneath the layers of animosity and resentment, there was a spark—as if you were both too messed up to understand how much you needed each other. Each fingertip left an imprint, a silent declaration of the strength he was restraining. It was like he was fighting to contain this force within him, to keep it from overwhelming you both. 

If someone told you you’d be kissing Rafe fucking Cameron of all people just a month ago, you’d think they were crazy. And yet… All you wanted were his hands on your body, his warm skin against your own.

Oh his hands.

They roamed slowly yet purposefully over your lower back, over your waist. You breathed out a sigh of relief, taking the collar of his shirt in both your hands as you pulled him closer, relishing in his warmth. He smelled like whiskey and cigarettes. 

He pulled away slowly, your lips the last to part, and blinked down at you. You watched him lick his bottom lip, taking in the sight of you.

“’You’re bleeding—“

“Shut the fuck up.”

His eyes flared with renewed anger, but also with something else—something darker, more primal. Your words were like a match to gasoline. He didn't respond verbally; instead, he took a half step back before swooping you into his arms, lifting you effortlessly.

With a swift, decisive motion, Rafe carried you to the dining table, and you barely had time to register the cool wood against your back before he was on you again, his body pressing down on yours with a desperation that matched your own. There was no tenderness there, only raw need and a desire to consume. He pried your lips apart again, his tongue sweeping in as he kissed you deeply, his mouth moving invasively over yours. His fingers gripped your jaw with a vice-like hold. A strange sensation fluttered beneath your skin, and you wrapped your legs around his hips, closing the distance between your bodies as he pressed flush against your center.

His hands moved with such intent, slipping under your shirt, his fingers tracing every curve with a delicious blend of roughness and urgency. You reciprocated eagerly, your own hands tangling in his hair, urging him closer as your kiss deepened. Everything around you blurred as the room spun, his warmth against you making you breathless, his taste lingering on your lips, intoxicating and irresistible.

You tugged at his shirt, fingers fumbling with the buttons because you just couldn't wait. He let out that deep, sexy growl that made a shiver run down your spine. His hands were all over you, touching your skin and leaving fiery trails wherever they went. It felt like he was trying to memorize every inch of you, wanting to claim you in a way that words could never capture.

"You're impossible," he muttered against your lips, the words barely audible over the sound of your heavy breathing. He leaned down closer to your collarbone, to catch the scent on your skin, and he couldn't tell if you were amused or annoyed from the way your cheeks rounded as you narrowed your eyes at him.

"And you’re an asshole,” you shot back, your voice breathless, your body arching into his touch.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, the tip of his nose brushing against yours slightly "Drive me fucking crazy.”

"Good," you replied, your fingers tightening in his hair, pulling him down again. You could feel the tension in his body, the way he was holding back, trying to maintain some semblance of control. But you didn't want control. You wanted to lose yourself in this moment, to forget everything you'd been trough and just feel.

Rafe seemed to sense this, his hands becoming more insistent, his touch more possessive. He lifted you slightly, positioning you better on the table, his body slotting perfectly between your legs. The friction was exquisite, a delicious tease that left you craving more.

"Rafe," you breathed, and he almost fell to his knees at the soft whimper that left your lips when he couldn’t help but jerk his hips forward. He responded instantly, his hands gripping your hips, pulling you closer as he kissed you with a fervor that left you dizzy. The table creaked under your combined weight, but neither of you cared. Your hand grabbed his forearm, over the veins strained from his grip on you, your nails sinking into the skin exposed.

You broke the kiss, gasping for air, your eyes locking with his. There was a wildness there, a reflection of the storm inside you. You reached up, tracing his jaw with your fingers, feeling the stubble beneath your touch as his mouth, hot and demanding, left a trail of fire in its wake on your neck. A noise of pleasure slipped from your mouth as he palmed at your breast, thumb grazing across your nipple as his teeth grazed your collarbone, kissing down, littering your skin bite marks.

"I hate you," you panted, pouring as much venom into your words as possible. Your thighs tightened around his hips, feeling every inch of him against you. 

“Your body doesn’t,” He replies coldly, each syllable slowly drawn from his throat, "

“Fucking asshole.”

“Fucking brat.”

You opened your mouth to hiss something at him, to fight back, show him that you were the one in charge, but the intention died the moment Rafe cupped you through your shorts. A pathetic excuse of shorts due to the heat. Heat bloomed in your stomach, melting into a torrent want that flooded your skin and left you breathless. His determined blue eyes pierced into yours, watching as he pressed the heel of his palm against the apex of your thighs, his middle finger tracing your entrance and applying light pressure to the sensitive dip between your legs.

“Cat got your tongue, pretty?” He asked, lips brushing over your mouth, loose bangs brushing against your brow “Thought you had more fire in you.” he rasped coldly, moving your shorts and underwear out of the way and your lips parted on a sharp inhale as you felt him touch you for the first time, “Yeah, thought so.” 

Every nerve ending seemed to come alive under his hands, and the room around you blurred into insignificance. All that mattered was the man in front of you, his relentless grip on your senses, his unwavering control over your body.

"God, I hate you," you whispered again, the words almost a prayer, a futile attempt to cling to the anger that had fueled you for so long. But even as you said it, you knew it was a lie. You hated how much you needed him, how much you craved his touch, his dominance. Perhaps you’d been locked away from society for too long. That was the only plausible reason for you to let Rafe Cameron touch you.

Rafe smirked, a dark, satisfied gleam in his eyes. "No, you don’t.” 

You did. At least you used to, everything’s confusing now.

He teased you, his touch light and teasing, drawing out your frustration, your need. "Tell me what you want," he murmured against your lips, his voice a seductive growl that made your heart race.

You bit back a whimper, refusing to give him the satisfaction of hearing you beg. But the need was overwhelming, a fierce ache that demanded release. 

“Fuck you," you spat, your defiance crumbling under the weight of your desire.

He chuckled darkly, his fingers finally slipping inside you, curling and stroking in a way that made your hips buck against his hand. "That's right," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. "Let me hear you."

A broken moan escaped your lips, and you arched into his touch, your body writhing with need. His fingers moved expertly, finding all the right spots, driving you near the edge with a skill that left you breathless. Every touch, every stroke was designed to push you closer to the brink, to break you down until you were nothing but a trembling, pleading mess.

"Rafe, please," you finally gasped, the words ripped from your throat by the overwhelming pleasure. "Please, I need you."

His smirk widened, and he pulled his fingers away, making you whimper in frustration. He didn't make you wait long, though. With swift, practiced movements, he freed himself from his pants, the sight of him hard and ready making your mouth water. 

Without a word, he positioned himself between your legs, the head of his pretty cock teasing your entrance. "You ready for me?" he asked, his voice a rough whisper that made your heart skip a beat. 

You nodded, your eyes locking with his, the intensity of the moment almost too much to bear. "Yes," you breathed, your voice trembling with anticipation. "Please, Rafe."

He didn't need any further encouragement. With a single, powerful thrust, he buried himself inside you. The sensation was overwhelming, a perfect blend of pain and pleasure that made you cry out. Your back arched involuntarily, your lips parting as he entered you, filling you completely in a way you had never imagined.

He rolled his hips firmly against yours, and your head tipped back as his cock rubs perfectly against you. You’d never felt so full. He didn’t give you a moment to catch your breath. After another firm roll of his hips, testing you out, figuring out his rhythm. His movements were hard and relentless, pounding into you, knocking the breath from your lungs with each forceful thrust, barely giving you time to adjust. 

You clung to him, your nails digging into his muscular back, your body moving in perfect rhythm with his. The table creaked and groaned beneath you, but you didn't care. All that mattered was the man above you, his relentless drive, his unwavering control. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer, deeper, his thrusts becoming more erratic, more desperate. You could feel him losing control, his need matching your own. 

Your eyes squeezed shut, blocking him out so you could pretend you weren’t stupid enough to let the man that ruined your life fuck the living hell out of you.

"Eyes on me,” he growled, his voice rough and commanding. "Let me see you.”

Even though you really wanted to shut him out, you just couldn’t fight the crazy pull he had over you. His voice was like a force of nature. You opened your eyes and locked onto his intense gaze. Seeing him above you, his face twisted with raw need and determination sent chills down your spine. His eyes were locked onto yours, filled with this dark, unyielding intensity that left you totally breathless. 

“Good girl,” he murmured, his voice dripping with approval and something deeper, something that made your heart race even more. It made you want to run for the hills, "Fucki—Oh, fuck"

With each thrust, he drove you closer to the edge, your body responding to him in ways you couldn’t control. The pleasure was overwhelming, a torrent of sensations that left you gasping, moaning, begging for more. His name slipped from your lips in a broken, desperate plea, and he answered with a renewed vigor, his movements becoming more frenzied, more primal.

"Fuck," he growled, his voice rough and strained. "You're so tight... feels so fucking good."

You could barely form coherent thoughts, let alone words. Your entire world had narrowed to this moment, to the feel of him inside you, to the overwhelming pleasure that consumed you. Your body arched beneath him, your nails digging into his skin, leaving marks that would undoubtedly linger.

"Rafe," you whimpered, the sound barely more than a breath. "I'm... I can't..."

He understood. His pace quickened, his thrusts becoming almost brutal in their intensity. "Come for me," he commanded his voice a raw whisper that sent shivers down your spine. "Let go."

His words pushed you over the edge, and you came with a scream, your body convulsing around him. The intensity of your release was like nothing you'd ever felt before, a white-hot explosion of pleasure that left you trembling and breathless.

Rafe followed you over the edge, his own release crashing through him with a force that left him shaking. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot and ragged against your skin as he rode out his orgasm, his movements slowing until he finally stilled, still buried deep inside you.

For a moment, everything was still, the only sound the ragged breaths but then Rafe lifted his head, his eyes meeting yours, and for a moment, there was something almost tender in his gaze. 

“Y-You—“ He sighed, pausing, “Don’t pull that shit again. I’ll get you out, okay? 

“Rafe...“

Before you could process his words, before you could question or argue, his lips were on yours again. Differently this time. Gentle. 

Devastating almost. 

“You’re still bleeding Maybank.”

Rafe’s words snapped you back to reality, the pain in your arm a sharp reminder of your injury. The moment of vulnerability between you evaporated, leaving you with the stark realization of your situation. You pushed at his chest, forcing him to back off slightly, and hissed through clenched teeth, "Then do something about it."

He just stood there, staring at you as if he had never seen you before. As if he was truly seeing you for the first time despite having known you since you were seven, despite all the moments marked by violence and terror. And you hated every second of it because your heart was practically leaping out of your chest. No one had ever looked at you like that before.

And then he simply shook his head, drew closer again, resting his forehead against yours, hands back on your thighs, fingers pressing as if he needed to ensure that you were real, that everything was real.

“We’re getting out.”

You wanted to believe in him more than anything. In that moment, it was the only thing that mattered, “Yeah?"

“Yeah, pretty Maybank. You and me."

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

[aewon]

ENHYPEN WHEN YOU…put your hands in their back pockets

pairing ✧ enhypen x f!reader g: fluff warnings: kissing, cussing, pet names, pda, groping, implied shorter reader in sunghoon’s ✧ note: inspired by the no doubt choreo !

LEE HEESEUNG

you’re sitting in enha’s practice room, watching them practice no doubt’s choreo. their choreographer calls for a break and they immediately disperse. heeseung turns towards you and open his arms, wanting a hug.

who are you to deny him? you make your way to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. he sighs in content, resting his head on your shoulder. you decide to be sneaky and slowly drift your hands downwards until they’re snug in his back pockets. you hear him giggle but he doesn’t pull away, “what are you doing?”

“nothing,” you say, deciding to play with him by squeezing his butt, making him let out a curse.

“shit!”

you laugh as he pulls back, looking at you incredulously.

“you are such a menace,” he says, but he doesn’t hesitate to return the favor, making you squeal.

PARK JONGSEONG

you’re in your shared apartment, laying on the couch while jay lays on top of you. your arms are wrapped around him, holding close to you.

an idea pops into your head, and you put it into action, sliding your hands down into his back pockets.

“why are you touching my ass?” you know he’s not mad, just curious by his tone.

“it’s a nice ass, can’t help but wanna touch it,” you end your words with a firm slap to his ass. jay yelps, looking at you with his annoyed face.

“that’s not nice,” he says, but you can see a hint of a laugh behind his lips.

he wastes no time in getting up and turning you around on the couch, giving your ass the same treatment. except he hits harder, with his large palms making it burn slightly.

“ouch! i didn’t hit yours that hard!”

“don’t hate the player, hate the game.” he continues to smirk while you pout, having been outplayed.

SIM JAEYUN

you and jake are standing in line for ice cream at the park. you’re standing behind him while he mindlessly scrolls through his phone.

you decide to be mischievous and put your hands in his back pockets, the position somewhat awkward but you couldn’t care less.

you can’t see it, but you can practically hear the smirk in his voice as he speaks, “you just love touching me don’t you?”

you hum, not moving your hands even as the line moves forward. you and jake don’t really care about pda or people seeing you in public. of course, you’re not animals, so you don’t take it too far but things like this don’t bother you or him.

“baby, what exactly is the point of this?” he asks, turning his head to look behind himself at you. you shrug, leaning into his back before taking his butt into your hands and squeezing hard. he jumps, almost comically, as you laugh quietly, trying not to bring too much attention to yourselves.

“you are so annoying! you’re gonna bruise it!”

you coo, mocking his whiney tone before rubbing it gently to fend off any oncoming injury. “better?” you ask and he hmphs, turning back around. you kiss his cheek apologetically, which makes him smile.

PARK SUNGHOON

sunghoon is very sensitive about touch. he doesn’t really like pda but he doesn’t dislike touch as long as it’s private.

you and the enhypen members are hanging out in your apartment. jay has chosen to cook to everyone’s delight. sunghoon is standing by the entrance, watching the tv with everyone else who’s situated on the couches.

you come up to him, looking at him with a pout.

“what’s wrong?” he asks, genuinely concerned. you do nothing but hold your arms out, indicating you want a hug. sunghoon hesitates for a second because he doesn’t like pda, even in front of his members, but one look into your eyes and he’s cooked.

he wraps his arms around you, you doing the same, hugging him tightly. he rests his chin on your head and sighs softly. he could never deny you. without him realizing, your sneaky hands make their way down, down into his back jean pockets.

sunghoon doesn’t even move, either he’s oblivious or he’s ignoring it for your sake, and his. what he doesn’t expect is for you to take his butt into your hands and squeeze, hard.

he jerks forward, taking you by the arms and pulling you away from him. he looks a mix between stunned and annoyed. you start to giggle, making grabby hands at him like you’re gonna do it again but he grabs them, now smiling.

“don’t even think about it, what’s wrong with you?” he asks quietly, not trying to alert the members.

you just stare up at him before surprising him again with a kiss to his lips.

“aww look at the happy couple, i got that whole thing on video by the way,” riki says from his seat on the couch. the other members begin to crowd him, even jay coming from the kitchen after hearing the commotion.

sunghoon breaks away from you, running over to try and wrestle the phone from riki’s hands while you laugh and watch.

KIM SUNOO

you and sunoo are very affectionate with one another, never hesitating to plant kisses on each others lips or cheeks, hug or anything else.

he’s standing in front of your full length mirror, getting ready to go out while you wait for him. as you come to stand behind him, you put your hands into his back pockets. he looks at you through the glass and smiles.

“whatcha doin?” he asks, though he doesn’t make any move to stop you.

“touching my favorite part of you,” you say, laughing as he gaps in offense.

“tuh, and here and i thought it was my personality!”

“that and your ass, i love it.” with that you take your hands out and give his ass a rough slap.

he swears, looking at you with wide eyes.

“okay, you’re done. no more ass privileges for you,” he says, dragging you around so you’re standing in front of him instead of behind.

you begin to whine, apologizing and saying you won’t do it again.

“that’s a damn lie and you know it.”

YANG JUNGWON

jungwon has brought you along to the recording studio while they prepare for their next album. you’re standing in front of him, his arm wrapped around you. you turn around in his arms, smiling at him, “you sound great babe.”

“thank you,” he says, bringing you in for a hug.

you hands rub his back up and down, before making their way lower and lower until they’re hovering over his ass. without warning you put your hands into his back pockets, and squeeze almost violently.

he jumps away from you, looking at you in pure shock. “what the fuck!” he says, laughing, “don’t touch my butt!”

“why?” you cock your head to the side, “i can’t touch what’s mine?” you ask in a questioning tone. he looks at you in disbelief.

“excuse me, it’s not yours.”

“yes it is, what’s yours is mine,” you say, smiling at him.

“oh really?” he raises an eyebrow, “so if that’s the case, what’s yours is mine?” you think he’s gonna go for your ass and bring your hands around to protect it but without hesitation his hands go for your front, squeezing your chest.

you gasp scandalously, “jungwon!”

he just smirks at you, “what’s yours is mine.”

NISHIMURA RIKI

you and riki have been dating for a few months now but haven’t really escalated to touching each other frequently. whether it comes to kisses or hugs, you’re still a bit awkward with one another.

you’ve decided to take your relationship up a notch in hopes he won’t oppose you.

today finds you with riki, alone in the dance studio as he practices their choreo. you watch him in amazement. how his body moves, its miraculous and you’re mesmerized.

he pauses the music, coming to stand in front of you, “so what do you think?”

“i think it’s amazing, you’re amazing,” you say.

you know riki likes compliments, he just doesn’t like to show it. he waves his hand, like it’s no big deal but you stand up and open your arms, “hug.”

“i’m sweaty,” he says, “you don’t wanna hug me.”

you shake your head, “don’t care, hug me!”

he can’t deny you, so he moves forward to wrap you in his arms. you rest your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. your hands make their way down, before finding comfort in his back pockets.

“oh?” he says in a questioning voice, “didn’t know we were at this point in our relationship.”

“can’t help it, i like being close to you.”

“and being close means touching my butt?” you know he’s not annoyed or angry because he’s laughing, so you hum in confirmation. without warning his own hands slide down to cup your own butt.

“now we’re even,” he says, grunting and laughing as you playfully squeeze his ass. and he doesn’t hesitate to do it back.

© AEWON 2024

[nightlyrequiem]

headcanons about jealous, slightly controlling valeria? your writing eats everytime

I love jealous and slightly controlling Valeria...

also thank you :3

Jealous Valeria Headcanons

It doesn't take much for Valeria to feel jealous. She's territorial over everything. Including you. She tries not to make it your problem. She's self-aware enough to recognize that she probably shouldn't be.

But she is. If you're the type of person to wear skimpy or more revealing clothes, she hates it. I mean, she loved it before you started dating because she loves looking at you, but she hates it because other people will look. One of her biggest fears is someone taking that as an invitation to approach you, and you playing into it. Valeria loves you and trusts you to an extent, but she just can't help but worry about you flirting with other people behind her back.

You two have fought over that a few times. when Valeria was feeling particularly testy about an outfit. You're in a relationship, why do you still want to dress like a slut? Valeria knows you're attractive, who else are you trying to impress? By the end you're upset and possibly crying. She feels bad but she doesn't retract her statements. She doesn't stop you from throwing out the outfit she had an issue with.

Valeria also has an issue with your friends. Men? No. Women? Absolutely not. Nonbinary? No. Mostly if they're attractive. If they're people she deems ugly then she's less inclined to be an issue about it. Regardless, she doesn't like it when you hang out with them. If you make plans, she'll try to make you change them. Guilt trip you into staying home. What, do you like them better than her? You got the hots for one of them? Why are you fighting so hard to go be with them?

Valeria has to have the passwords to your phone and social media. She gave you hers so it's only fair. (Except it kind of isn't because she doesn't use social media. she only has the apps you have so she can monitor you.) If you like something or post something she doesn't like she gets all moody. And God forbid you get a random DM. Your account has to be on private. Sometimes, when you're asleep she'll log into your account and go through your followers and who you're following. Removing whoever she sees fit.

You aren't the only one who has to deal with it though. You've lost a few friendships because Valeria went to them without you knowing and threatened them into leaving you. She gets incredibly agitated when you bring it up.

Breaking up doesn't get rid of her either. Break ups are really only temporary breaks in her eyes. If you try to date it won't go over well. She'll do whatever she can to sabotage you. Harming the other girl or threatening to, spreading lies about you, whatever she can to keep you single. If you can't be happy with her you aren't allowed to be happy with anyone else.

And if you somehow manage to get another girlfriend? Oh, Valeria is livid. Valeria will try to charm you back into her life. She doesn't care if you're in a relationship, she had you first. (She is definitely not a girl's girl...) She'll try her hand at emotional manipulation if that doesn't work. "I'm so miserable without you mi Vida..." "I can't sleep knowing you aren't mine anymore..." and the worst "If you don't talk to me I'll hurt myself." She won't. But she's trying to take advantage of that softness in you.

I think some of this is more than slightly controlling but oh well.

[mytearsbuckochet]

What's your most hated Bummy scene?? I'll tell you mine. It has to be the kiss in the hospital lobby and buck getting outed because of his soot covered mouth. Never hated a 911 episode more than that. I love Buck. They just made a mockery out of him by that scene.

Where do I even start.. Couldn't agree more about the soot scene, although I'm more angry at the writers about that one than I am at Tommy, given how important it was to Buck that he came out to Eddie and Maddie on his own terms and how much weight he gave those interactions I feel like even though that one was supposed to be a cute little "hehe look this is very Buck coded", it fell short in that I would've liked everyone else at the 118 to find out in a more heartfelt way ya know??

In terms of my least favourite(s), the whole arc with billy boils was a very interesting play by the writers in that it highlighted the differences between Eddie and Tommy in a meaningful way. On one hand, Eddie, who has presumably been with Buck in the hospital the whole time he was being treated for his boils, is used to Buck's hyperfixations and Wiki deep dives, and finds them wholesome and cute. I reblogged a post a little bit ago where Buck told Maddie about how her and Chim always finish each others sentences and that theyre basically already dating, and then contrasted with how Eddie was finishing Buck's sentences in that scene. Buddie fanatic aside (I will admit im obsessed with these two idiots), THIS is the kind of domesticity I've always wanted for Buck's partners, where they acknowledge and love those little moments that he has.

Now lets go ahead and look at Tommy's side of this whole thing: Tommy's reaction to seeing the boils + how he treated and viewed Buck's obsession as exactly that, an obsession + the graveyard scene??? You can break it down into "oh well Buddie have known eachother since s2, Bummy have been together 6 months", but from my perspective the fact that Buck didn't even realise Tommy didn't like women until their 6 month anniversary (???) just goes to show that they don't really know that much about one another. Tommy was completely right in the breakup scene; he was definitely not Buck's last, and the poor guy is definitely in need of some self exploration (#letbuckfuck) before I'd be happy to see Buddie honestly (and thats not even considering the work that needs to be done on Eddie, my guy is going through it rn with Chris). Anyway; I just read this amazing fic by playinginthundestorms (on ao3) and I think the way they described Tommy (slightly Tommy bashing), was overall how I imagine he sees Buck. It never really felt like Tommy was fond of these little things Buck does in the way that Eddie (and the rest of the 118) are, more seeing him as childish or juvenile as the fic described. And it makes sense, tommy is older than Buck. A whole other can of worms and probably the icing on the cake for me was the Abby debacle, the misogyny really showed??? like man you have not changed since Hen my lord. Calling Abby out for running off with some "himbo half her age" was wild considering thats what he is currently doing with Buck? Especially with all the shit she had to go through with her mum at the time? Like what on earth is your excuse Temu? Anyway, to cut a long rant short, I actually have given you like 50 reasons, but i definitely think that Tommy was a well placed plot device and it was obvious from the start. Also, ABC could've chosen ANYONE to be Buck's first experience with a man and they were like yep lets use the racist homophobe from Chim and Hen begins cos why not?! I probably would've had a far less negative opinion of him if he was a fresh character, and I think that's on purpose, I think it would be really interesting if they go down the road of hen and chim sharing their experiences with Tommy now that they've broken up, and that they didn't say anything cos they just wanted Buck to be happy. Definitely after that heartfelt scene with Hen especially, that I didn't get cos of that bloody soot scene.

[cre8inghavoc]

Can't help it...

Part 8

inumaki x f!reader

pairing: inumaki x f!reader

summary: Transferring to a new school is tough, but having your three best friends there makes it easier. Things get even more interesting when you start falling for the mysterious boy who rides his motorcycle to school every day. What will happen next?

genre/warnings: [18+] Characters are aged up. Story contains cursing, new friends, alcohol, college!au, no curse!au, dark humour, SMAU and written parts, fluff, smut.

"Actually, you know what Inumaki. I don't care. Do whatever you want I couldn't care less to be honest. So please just leave."

Lies. You don't even know what possessed you to say those things... You did care... in fact you cared way more than you liked. You just didn’t want to believe him. So you turned around and pushed against his chest, trying to create space between you.

“I said, leave,” you muttered, your voice shaky.

But Inumaki barely moved. Instead, he grabbed your wrist, pulling you back toward him. His grip was firm but not rough, the intensity in his gaze making your breath catch. “You think I’m going to just walk away when you won’t even hear me out?” His voice was deeper now, tinged with something darker, something possessive.

“Stop it,” you demanded, trying to yank your wrist free, but his hold tightened just slightly.

He leaned in, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “You’re mad because you care a little too much, don’t you?”

Your heart raced as he got closer, his body pressing into yours, leaving you no room to escape. His voice was low, teasing, dripping with confidence. “You don’t like it, do you? Seeing someone else close to me. You hate it.”

Your breath hitched, your chest tightening as you tried to pull away, but his grip stayed firm. His free hand came up to brace against the wall beside your head, trapping you completely. “Stop pretending.”

Your mind spun, the closeness overwhelming, the heat radiating between you two making it impossible to think clearly. “Toge... stop,” you muttered, but your voice was weak, flustered.

A slow, dangerous smirk spread across his face, and his eyes flickered with something possessive, something more than just frustration. “No. i'm not letting you go just yet.”

You tried to pull back again, but he stepped forward, his body pressing you against the wall. His voice dropped even lower, almost a growl. “You’re mine, Y/N. And I’m not letting anyone get in the way of that.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, a mix of emotions swirling in your chest. The anger, the hurt—they were still there, but they were being drowned out by the intensity of his presence, the way he was looking at you like you were the only thing that mattered.

“You’re lying to yourself,” he whispered, his lips barely brushing your ear, teasing you with the closeness. “You're jealous, aren't you? You think I didn’t notice?”

“Stop,” you muttered, your voice shaky as you turned your face away from him.

“You want me to stop?” he murmured, his voice dripping with teasing dominance. “But you haven’t told me to let go. Why’s that, y/n?”

You swallowed hard, refusing to meet his gaze, but the heat in your cheeks betrayed you. You were flustered, your mind racing with conflicting emotions, but you couldn’t ignore the way he had you pinned, his body pressed so close to yours that you could feel the warmth radiating from him.

“I don’t care,” you whispered, though even you could hear how weak the lie sounded.

Inumaki smirked, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “Liar. You care. You wouldn’t be this upset if you didn’t.”

“Admit it. You don’t want anyone else touching me. You want me all to yourself.”

His words wrapped around you, teasing and confident, and you felt your resolve slipping. You couldn’t deny it anymore—the jealousy, the frustration, the way you cared more than you wanted to admit. And he knew it.

“I’m not letting anyone else have me. Not Alyssa, not anyone. Only you.”

"And you're mine y/n."

His hand cupped your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze, and no matter how hard you tried to look away, you couldn’t. The intensity in his eyes, the way his words seemed to wrap around you, made it impossible to think straight.

“Toge...,”

“Don’t,” he said softly, his thumb brushing lightly against your jaw. “Don’t say you don’t care. Don’t lie to me.”

"Admit it...”

You clenched your fists, your mind spinning. “No,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “You’re wrong.”

Inumaki’s smirk deepened, his eyes darkening with satisfaction. “Am I?” His hand began to move, sliding down from your face to your shoulder, and then slowly, teasingly, down your side.

Your heart raced as his hand slipped lower, grazing your waist.

“I don’t... I don’t want this...”

Lies. Lies. Lies. Lies. And he knew damn well you were lying.

Inumaki leaned back staring into your eyes, only inches away from your face. “You’re still lying to yourself, y/n.”

Inumaki’s gaze softened as he leaned in, his face just inches from yours, so close you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. Your heart raced, your mind growing hazy with each passing second. His eyes held you captive, intense and unwavering, and you felt every ounce of anger and frustration you’d been holding onto start to slip away.

Your breath hitched as you waited, anticipation filling the air between you. But just as you thought he might close the distance, his lips so close they nearly brushed yours, he paused. His eyes flashed with that familiar, teasing glint, and then, just like that, he pulled back, leaving you reeling from the unfulfilled closeness.

He stepped away, smirking in that infuriating way that made your heart race and your cheeks burn. Turning, he walked toward the window, his confidence radiating with each step. He threw a look over his shoulder, his expression knowing.

“Gotta wake up early for school tomorrow, yeah?” he said, his tone playful. “See you then.”

Without waiting for a response, he climbed out the window and left. You stood there, frozen, your heart still pounding as you heard the low rumble of his bike starting up. Moments later, he sped away, the sound fading into the distance, leaving you alone in the silence.

You released a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. He’d left you there, heart racing, the unspoken words still caught in your throat. Frustration bubbled up inside you, a mix of anger and longing as you stared at the empty space where he’d been.

You shake your head as a bitter laugh escapes your lips.

"You little bitch."

@madaqueue @mikko-mikko @arabella0001 @swarachxle @s3ns4ti0n4l @jdgfsgdgdvf @tomikixd @arabella0001 @emotionalasf @unofficialsapphire @miowxh

[medicinemane]

Anyway... as always I'm just so very very very picky when it comes to horror. I just have this very narrow window of what I personally like, and there's just so many things that just have horror elements rather than being horror to me (and don't even get me started on stuff with a human killer, for me personally that's a thriller rather than horror, and I don't care for it cause sadly we've got plenty of human killers in real life)

It's just so hard to do good horror. It's hard to ride the line between showing too little and showing too much, between building tension and being boring... and dear god is it so easy to trend into being goofy

Then you've got the issue of generally having to come up with something totally new that we don't have in the real world (to please me anyway) and having enough lore that it's actually something... but not talking about it so much that you make it sound stupid or open it up to plot holes

Very very very very tricky genre... I think I still respect bad horror, even though I also have disdain for it and don't like it at all... at least they tried, or... at least... some of them tried (some is just schlock)

[tonycries]

The Heir - G.S.

Synopsis. No, your clan leader husband won’t stop until he gives you an heir. No, you don’t think you’ll make it out alive.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, clan leader! Gojo, established relationship, he’s cray-cray (for you), bréeding - like a LOT, oral (fem receiving), unprotected, creampíe, marathon, séx, running from it, use of “my wife”, overstim, FÉRAL Satoru, absolutely heinous, mentions of kníves and bIood, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.3k

A/N. Guess what ya girlie is back with clan leader Gojo hehe.

An heir to the Gojo clan - no matter how small, how weak - could eradicate all three of the big clans before even being born. Much like their father. 

You knew that. Satoru knew that. And, unfortunately for him, so did the stuck-up old toad currently sputtering across from him. 

“I am not asking for permission.” Satoru smiles, deathly calm. “Simply that everyone vacates the Estate. After all, what the madam wants, the madam shall get.”

“But- but young master! It’s madness- An heir can tip the scales of power like never before!” The elder lunges frantically over the meeting room table. “I cannot allow- a-and considering the madam’s lowly lineage-”

Schwing!

They say that the infamous young head of the Gojo clan has a katana as hauntingly beautiful as he is - a blade of pure white, with a sapphire hilt. Though, there wasn’t anyone left to tell the tale - and Satoru wasn’t about to let that change anytime soon. 

The long, deceptively delicate sword glints sharply against Satoru’s humorless grin, and those cold, cold eyes. Unblinking - crazed, as he hums, “What did you say about my wife?”

The man in front of him can do nothing but yelp in fear, “I- it could- the scale of ah-”

“No.” The freezing cold blade presses deeper against skin. And Satoru’s tutting, “Try again.”

“Th-the madam!” Pathetic tears stain those expensive tatami mats below, every shred of previous ego wiped away as the elder’s forced to echo his words. “It is no lie that her b-background is…unsuitable-”

Oh this was why Satoru hated these meetings - and for once in his life he’d been the one to summon it instead of being forced to attend. What a joke. If only this elder had agreed to vacate everyone in the Estate like he’d wanted, then none of this would’ve happened. Seriously, how hard was it to get some alone time with you? 

Satoru sighs, blue yukata rustling as he grips the hilt tighter. “Do you know why you’re here, advisor? Why any of you little council of elders are still here?” And he doesn’t wait for an answer - couldn’t care less about it anyway. Plowing on in that same sweet, dangerous tone - as if scolding a stubborn child, “My lovely wife is kind, you see. Too kind. Doesn’t like for me to get my hands dirty.”

He lets his arm retract slightly, as if giving up on the conversation topic at hand. And oh for all his wisdom, the elder should’ve known better than to let the silence lull into one of safety. Should’ve known better than to let out a breath of relief. Relaxing - ever-so-slightly, to be stupid enough to mutter, “S-see young master. I told- you-”

Because this was Gojo Satoru, and he’s chuckling - and that was never a good sign for anyone but you. “She’d make such a perfect mother, don’t you think?”

---

SLAM!

You startle - there was only ever one person that dared to kick open the doors of the Gojo Estate that way, like he was out for blood.

Eyes tearing from your window towards the now-splintered doorway and-

Oh. Oh shit. 

Your voice dies in your throat as the metallic tang of blood hits your nose - followed very shortly by the realization that this was your husband. Towering figure leaning against the frame, gaze frantic - bouncing off everywhere but you, fingers twitching on the stained handle of his katana, looking for all the world like he’d seen a ghost. 

What the fuck happened?

“Satoru?” you breathe. And the sound of your voice his eyes finally snap to you - widening, like he’d finally noticed your figure standing there. Like he was seeing you after a thousand years. Stepping forward in concern, “Are you o-”

You’ve barely made it two steps before Satoru’s closing the distance in a split-second, dropping to his knees before you with a harsh thump!

You wince at the sound, but if it hurt then he doesn’t show it. Anything but - in fact, looking more blissed out than you’ve ever seen him as he lets his prized katana clatter to the floor, looping two powerful arms around your waist.

And it’s times like this - when he nuzzles his cheek against your stomach, sighing in contentment - that you forget about those blossoming stains of red on his yukata. None of his, you bet. 

Threading your fingers through his soft hair, you repeat, “Are you okay, Toru?”

And oh. 

Oh, it only takes those words - and your sweet sweet voice - before Satoru’s entire body jolts. Taking a sharp inhale, fingers trembling as they clutch onto the fabric of your yukata. “An heir.” Words strained, ragged. Some deep, visceral part of himself peaking up at you through those hazy, half-lidded eyes, “Would you give me an heir, my wife?”

You weren’t making it out alive. 

You’re gasping - partially because of his words, partially because that’s all it takes for him to yank you down. Sprawling you out like such a slut on the floor. “Wha- an heir?”

It’s not something you expected him to even consider - that sleepy, quiet little pillowtalk from earlier today where you’d mindlessly wondered out loud whether your husband was ready for kids. Hell, Satoru was never a morning person, so you didn’t expect him to even have heard the question let alone this. 

Nosing at your racing pulse, whispering, “An heir. You think I’d ever deny you, pretty?” Like he couldn’t believe it himself - sharp canines nipping at your neck, “My heir.”

It’s like it was the only thing he could say - could even think about right now as his lips burned a path down your jaw, into the valley of your breasts. Muffled, “N’ now we have the Estate all to ourselves, so I can ruin you as much as I hah- want.”

And for the second time today, you’re actually registering that this wasn’t the same yukata your husband had kissed senseless in before the meeting. Or, at least, those patches of red were new.

“Satoru…” You pull his face back.

“No- no no please- Come back-” you squeal when he just drags you across the floor by the hips, pressing you up against that massive bulge, back to sloppily kissing the underside of your jaw. “Was jus’ one I swear- m’sorry about gettin’ the fabric dirty.”

“Satoru.”

“Wasn’t gonna break you where everyone could hear right?” 

And fuck he doesn’t wait to hear a response, no - it’s been far too long, and every little scold from you has all the blood in Satoru’s body rushing to his aching cock. His lips are crashing onto yours, so desperate and needy. 

“Sa-toru!” you manage to squeal through the way he sips at your candied lips. Letting out pained, breathless little grunts like each swipe of his tongue against your mouth was driving him insane. 

“Shhh shhh, m’here m’here.” he pants into your open mouth, hands wandering everywhere. Cupping your ass, your breasts, nudging open your jaw to let him suck so filthily on your tongue. “Fuck- m’here.” He’s licking up the drool pooling at the corner of your mouth already, “N’ m’gonna ruin-” One hand makes its way to palm your clothed cunt, “-her.”

But, alas, no matter how many times Satoru’s done this before - it never gets any easier, or as less heavenly of a sight for him. 

With you all disheveled and splayed out for him, your tits almost spilling out of your yukata with the way his hands have been so greedy. So thoughtless. 

Satoru groans, dipping his head forward to peck messily at your lips. “Mmm- ” Pulling back just enough to mutter, “Gonna let me breed this pretty cunt, hm?” 

It’s all you can do to give him a half-delirious little nod of agreement, lower lip wobbling at just how hungrily he was looking at you. Eyes wide, lips curling into a crazed smile, fingers trembling with anticipation as he deftly works on untying your robe. 

“Is my wife gonna give me a pretty baby?” He gasps out, strangled. “An heir?” He presses a sloppy peck to your glossy lips, strings of spit snapping when he breaks apart to whisper. “One to take out all these dumb fucks?” Again, so dizzyingly. And again. “Oh how I’d love to see their fuckin’ faces.” And again and again and again. Kisses punctuated by that little mantra - “An heir. My heir. I need you to give me a baby, pretty.”

And then your yukata’s being pulled down your shoulders, the expensive fabric ripping down the side with the way he was so ravenous. Goosebumps prickling down your skin as fast as Satoru can get his hands on every inch of you.

“Oh, look at you.” his jaw falls slack, palms kneading at your soft breasts. “Fuck- the mother of my kids.” He rolls his thumb over your hardened nipples, rubbing lazy little circles, “I need to- fuck!” 

Before you know it he’s pinning your arching body down onto the floor. One hand easily pinning down both of yours, the other angling your lips back onto his, a knee wedged between your damp thighs. 

You whine at the feeling of Satoru’s thigh rubbing up against your drenched panties.

But he could barely hear - fuck, you didn’t even know if Satoru was breathing with the way he wraps his pretty pink lips around one of your pert nipples. Eyes rolling to the back of his head, cheeks hollowing as he sucks - harsh.

“Need to fill these up- s’gonna be so sweet. So full.” he’s blabbering into your tits, tongue rolling around your sensitive nipples. Incessant, like he was somehow trying to draw out milk. “I can only hope they hah- share, right?”

You buck your hips up, mewling as your throbbing clit catches on the dips and curves of the muscles on Satoru’s leg. “P-please, Toru. Don’t tease.”

And oh, when has he ever denied you? Hell, Satoru would burn down this entire world and himself if it meant giving his wife anything and everything. Especially the future mother of his kids. 

With a final, playful bite, you watch with glassy eyes at the way he dances his lips down. Slow. Teasing. Eyes locked with you all the while like some sort of predator cornering his prey. 

“And this-” Satoru stops halfway down, pressing a deep, sultry kiss onto your bare stomach, “Oh this. Gonna be so round n’ pretty. Absolutely glowing f’me, right? Fuck!” 

Snapping his head down at the feeling of your grinding your hips so sluttily onto his legs, slick seeping through your panties and onto his skin. 

“Oh.” he sighs, awe-struck. More to himself than you at this point, “You can kill me if you’re not with my heir by the time we’re done, pretty.”

A promise.

And with it went whatever was left of Satoru’s poor sanity - and whatever pathetic chance there was of you making it out of this alive. 

Immediately, Satoru fists your flimsy panties in his grasp. So see-through they were practically useless anyway. Reveling in your panicked little gaze as he pulls - rips them clean off your dripping cunt. 

“Oh god- There we go.” he moans, hooking two arms underneath your legs and pushing up, up, up - all the way until your knees were pressing up against your tits. Your lips wobble when Satoru takes the time to admire your pussy, breaths coming out in feverish little puffs to watch the way you glisten and clench at nothing. Licking his lips - salivating even - at the sight of your slick beading through your puffy folds. He runs a thumb along your sopping wet slit, “Better wish her good luck tonight.”

And, usually, your husband was refined - he teased and toyed with your poor cunt until you were begging to have an ounce of friction. But right now, it’s a wonder he doesn’t get whiplash with how fast he’s pushing his face into your pussy.

“Mm-” Satoru’s eyes roll to the back of his head as his tongue laps at your dripping wet cunt. Tipping his head back, back, back to let your sweet sweet juices slide down his throat. “Fuck that. Even luck won’t save you from me- hah-”

“Toru!” you arch off the cool floor as he cards the tip of his tongue between your puffy folds. From the base of your sloppy entrance, all the way up to your throbbing clit. “Hngh- s’too-”

He was going too fast too soon. 

You whine at the palm pushing your unstable hips flat onto the ground, holding you still while Satoru licks all over as he pleases. “Now now, how are ya gonna ngh- fuck so sweet- handle later if ya can’t even handle this, pretty?”

Sucking on your clit in such a messy, open-mouthed kiss. “Fuck. Shouldn’t have told me about an heir.” he’s murmuring into your cunt. Harsh - rolling his tongue against the sensitive nub in a way he knows will have you crying out so prettily. “Fuuuck you shouldn’t h- oh- Ohhh, look at you, my wife.”, breathing in deep, ragged gasps of air only to go deeper. “Fuck- just look at you. You’re so wet I could fuck you just like this.”

As if to prove his point, he’s urgently bullying the tip of his tongue between your plushy walls. And it was true - so pathetically true. You take him in so easily. 

Somehow, you manage to crack an eye open to spy downwards - only to be met with Satoru’s eyes already on yours. Hazy, curtained by his messy hair, swollen lips curving up to flash you such a devilish grin as he squeezes his tongue past that feeble, first ring of resistance. In and out in and out in and-

“Ohh. Squeezing me so fuckin’ tight.” His jaw grinds deeper, nose flush against your clit. “Ya like that idea? Like the thought of me p-painting ah- slutty pussy white already?”

Your embarrassed little whine isn’t enough of an answer for your husband. No, he’s pressing his fingers - all glossy and covered with a sheen of your slick - onto your pulsing clit. Just barely grazing in a way that has you crying out. 

Making out with your cunt so sloppily, “Tha’s more like it.” Heavy eyes boring into yours - goading, even, for you to give more of a reaction. “Fuck- use those words, pretty. Scream.” Satoru’s fucking into your sloppy hole the way he’s been dreaming to do with his rock-hard cock. “After all, we h-have the Estate all to ourselves, right?”

Faster. Sloppier. 

Pushing and pulling his tongue in a way that has you sobbing, “Yes! Please- wan’- ngh” Thighs squeezing around Satoru’s fervent head, “W-wan you to jus’ breed me, Toru-”

Oh.

Fuck, you might’ve just signed your will away at this point. 

Because in a split-second, you’re cumming. 

Shit, were you glad that there was no one in the house. Sobbing out a broken whine of his name, fingers white-knuckled on Satoru’s hair while you gush all over his pretty face. Just dragging your sloppy cunt all over his mouth - using him through your high. 

And he’s more than happy to be dragged and angled all you please. Greedily lapping up your syrupy sweet juices, just dipping his tongue into your hole to feel the way you clench around him. 

But it’s not long before Satoru’s pulling away. Swallowing a disappointed whine, you gape up at the absolutely feral man looming above you. 

Lips plump and glossy, your juices dripping all the way down his chin, his jaw. Teeth bared, a pretty pink blush dusting over those cheeks - and you have half the mind to wonder how high the kill count actually is. Whether you’d be on it, too. 

“Heh, kill count?” Satoru grins, teeth grazing so dangerously over your racing pulse. Shit, did you say that out loud? “Funny, real funny.” And with that, he’s thumbing apart your swollen folds, biting his lips at the sight of your quivering hole. “Wonder if our- hah- kid’s gonna have your-” Without warning, he spits. Once. Twice. Gliding the pads of his fingers along the thick globs of spit on your cunt, “-humor?”

And oh how ironic it was for Satoru to be groaning out sweet little spiels of what your kids might look like, when his fingers were anything but. 

Stretching out your gummy entrance, having the audacity to laugh - laugh - at how desperately your pussy was trying to milk his fingers. 

“Y-you’re so mean-”

“And yer killin’ me- ohhh you’re gonna be the death of me.” he mutters - strained. Depraved. Hastily pushing apart his yukata. He hisses, “Fuck-”

You can’t help but gasp at the sinful sight before you - Satoru’s blush reaches down his sculpted chest, down, down, down all the way to his painfully hard cock. Curved against his abs, already so angry and soaked with precum. Giving you a pretty little peak of those veins glistening against the dim lighting. 

Before you even know what’s happening, he’s circling his fat, weepy head around your sloppy hole. Slow, lazy patterns to tease your cunt. “Can only pray m’not dead before I see ngh- fuck- my heir.”

It’s like something breaks. And Satoru’s remembering that no, this isn’t just any child - it’s the next Gojo. That grip on the base of his swollen cock tightening when he slips past your pussy lips. 

“Oh! Toru- f-fuck wait s’too big-” you keen, nails digging into where his yukata was sliding off his milky, sculpted shoulders. Hard enough to break skin. “It’s ah-”

“No.” he spits into your sagging mouth. “No no no no- wait fuck- ngh squeezing so fucking- tight.” Hips pushing in quick, shallow little thrusts to squeeze more of his achy head inside. “Fuck- fuck fuck fuck hold on. Need this. Need this so bad- please!”

And you can’t do anything but arch into his touch, scrambling up onto your elbows to- shit, that was a bad idea. 

Because one look at the sight of your poor cunt, all bulging and stretched out on Satoru’s massive cock was enough to have you running away. 

You’d barely made a movement to escape, feet flattening on the floor to buck your hips because shit it was too much. And it was a useless effort, anyway, because Satoru’s dragging you back so easily, pulling your limp body deeper down his swollen cock. 

“Need this. Need this need this so bad, pretty.” he groans, barely even halfway in yet. Still pushing, still relentless. “Need to breed this cunt so bad.”

Some tiny, useless part of Satoru’s rationality knows that he should slow down - maybe give you a second to relax. To maybe even breathe. But he was out of control now, hips stuttering and wrenching forwards like he couldn’t stop. 

So he’s simply gripping onto your shaky thighs harder, sure to leave neat little indents of his nails to admire tomorrow - or, whenever he gets back his sanity, that is. 

Satoru hisses at the way you’re so pliant below him. Limp, letting him rest your legs on his muscled shoulders. “Think I needa manhandle ya more often, pretty.” Pressing down, down - all the way until you were folded in half beneath him in such a mean mating press. “Can’t- can’t stop-”

The change in angle makes you scream out Satoru’s name - and it makes him bottom out. Finally. 

Fuck, you weren’t making it out alive.

“Oh.” he grunts at the feeling of his heavy balls smacking against your ass, his fat, leaky tip kissing against your cervix. God, if Satoru was any less of a man he thinks he could’ve cum just from the feeling of you trying to suck him up already. 

“Oh- oh my god-” you gasp when he presses down about halfway down your stomach, Pressing down for that bulge, hard. “You’re in s-so deep ngh- S’like you’re pushing into my ngh- lungs.”

Fuck, if you talked any more with that pretty mouth then Satoru was bound to pass out. Blindly, he’s feeling for your pouty mouth, kissing and nibbling at your wobbling lips like a subconscious apology. For what was to come, that is.

Because Satoru Gojo spares no apologies when he starts moving - finally. Finally fucking you the way he’s been dreaming of all throughout that droning meeting. 

And he says so - a little over fifteen times, in fact, while he splits you apart on his cock. 

“-n’ when I was negotiating those ngh- c-clan deals. N’ when I was at that meeting-” he gasps, shoving your legs so far apart it burned. “S’all I could hah- think of. Everything - don’t give a fuck if I got a contract wrong.”

Each word was punctuated by a rough, harsh ram of his cock, stretching out your gummy walls so far apart like he wanted to make his mark there. Pushing - even when he could feel his aching tip nudging at your cervix.

So merciless - violent even - with the way he’s slamming back into you. Molding your plushy walls to every ridge and curve of his massive cock. It was impossible to even form coherent sentences with his harsh pace. 

A large hand flattens beside your head as Satoru’s thrusts get deeper. More purposeful. You almost sob at the sheer pressure when he dances his fingers down to rub quick, methodical little circles on your clit. “Toru-” you moan, like a prayer. “M-more.”

But it wasn’t enough.

“More.” Satoru breathes, more to himself than anything. And shit at that very moment you almost understood why even the most hardened of clan leaders feared to even look at Gojo Satoru wrong. Because he was giving you a sopping, fucked-out smile, eyes widened, voice trembling, “You want more?”

And of course this was the strongest. Of course, he was ruthless. 

Of course, it takes him exactly two seconds to pull out of your heavenly cunt and flip you onto your stomach. One hand coming under you to angle your hips up until you were on all fours - like some ragdoll. The other feverish, distracting on your clit while he bullies his achingly hard cock past your sopping entrance once more. 

“Fuck!” your voice is hoarse when you scream. Teeth gritting because fuck the stretch was too sinful and Satoru’s hips were too harsh. Too hellbent on fucking into you like he’d lost control. “O-oh please, Toru-”

He doesn’t waste time easing you into it this time, picking up where he left off with that maddening cadence. And you were glad he had an arm on your hips because your knees were weakening with each thrust, slowly sliding down the floor before-

“Aw, my poor girl.” you hear Satoru coo from above you. Muscled chest rubbing up against your back, “S’alright. M’gonna take care of it. You jus’ hafta take it- jus’ take it like the good lil’ wife you are.” his body bows into yours, strands of white sticking to his forehead. “N’ I’ll take fuck fuck fuck- care of everything.” So sloppy with his rhythm, pushing you further and further up the floor with each movement - only to reel you right back so easily. “I’ll wash ‘em and hah- clothe ‘em n’ t-teach ‘em to take over this godforsaken society. To protect their momma.”

“T-Toru-” you squeal as he only gets more erratic. “I’m…”

“Hm?”

He didn’t even have to ask - he could feel the way you were squeezing so hard around him, like you were trying to suck the fucking soul out of him. The way the only thing you could get out was his name. 

His perfect wife. 

Sobbing out, “Close! So close. Wan’ cum- Ah! Please-”

He was losing his fucking mind. 

Biting down so hard at the crook of your neck to keep himself from cumming before you, he moans deliciously, “Then cum. Fucking cum. Please- wan’ you to cum on my cock.” Wrists aching with how desperate he was moving, “Cum- yeah yeah yeah fucking- cum- Cum for your husband.”

Oh, if heaven was real then whatever was left of that part of Satoru that could still form coherent thoughts knew that this was it. 

Watching you fall apart like such a slut all over his cock. Not even realizing it at first - just that your eyes are rolling to the back of your head, swollen lips falling slack, letting out such a pretty cry of his name that he can’t help but cum, too. 

You don’t know who’s more far gone - you, with your head spinning, a lewd little ah! ah! ah! leaving your mouth each time Satoru fucks you through your high. 

Or him, gushing out in thick, hot ropes of cum that overspill from your snug cunt. 

“So muchhh.” you whine, heavy head being held up by your husband. “S’too much.”

And he knew what you were talking about - because Satoru was cumming and cumming and cumming so hard it was like he couldn’t stop. Didn’t want to stop. Because he was mesmerized by that creamy trail of white drooling down your folds, forming an obscene ring at those tufts of white at his base. 

“Too much?” Satoru hisses. “Too much?”

You can only give a barely-lucid nod, whimpering when he doesn’t ease up. Not one bit, in fact, Satoru was only abandoning the hand playing with your ravaged clit to press down on your abdomen. Hard. 

“There we hah- go. Better now?” The hand supporting your head forced you to look down below, at the sticky mess of white covering your cunt. Slobbering all over Satoru’s cock - even down to his thighs. “Now we got fuck- more space.”

You don’t even realize you’re scrambling away until Satoru gasps, panicked, “No no no- we’re not done, pretty. Fuckkk we’re far from done.” Fingers tightening around your neck to pull you deeper down his cock, holding you in place. Just dragging you along his length. “Gotta make sure it takes. Why else d’you think no one in the Estate will be back until tomorrow?”

He doesn’t wait for a response - not that you could give one, anyway, with how you were being fucked dumb on his cock again. 

A strong, powerful leg hooks around yours, pushing you down with his body weight. “So that we ngh- h-have enough time to prepare for my heir.” Weeping head grazing all those sensitive spots so expertly. “T-to plan and and- ruin you and- fuck you feel so good. They’ll be the most powerful- hah- jus’ watch. Those fuckers better w-wait and see.”

So debauched and fucked-out that you don’t even know what he’s running his mouth about now, just heavy, urgent words slurred into your neck while he fucks you just as sloppily. 

“Don’t know?”

Fuck. You said it out loud again. 

And the embarrassing realization has your eyes screwing open, gazing tearily back at an amused Satoru. Well, as amused as he could be when he was just as wrecked as you. 

Kissing your sweaty forehead, hips reeling back all the way until your cunt was missing the stretch - bucking traitorously against the fat mushroom tip grazing your entrance. Making a mess of precum down below.

“S’alright, pretty.” he groans, sandwiching his cock between your puffy folds. “Because you just have to sit there n’ ngh- take- it.”

If you thought that Satoru was broken before then he was absolutely ruined now. 

Because there was no reason or rhythm to his actions now - just mindless, feral movements to milk his cock as much as he physically could on your pussy. Running only on pure need and the thought of you round and so full with his kid. 

“Ah!” you’re startled out of your reverie by something wet. Whirling sluggishly to catch the tears of overstimulation brimming at Satoru’s heavy eyes - shit, you wondered if he even knew what he was doing at this point. “T-Toru…you- ngh- o-okay?”

The only response you get is an unsteady nod. 

“-the best.” he whispers, twitching balls squeezing so painfully with each slap against your ass. Faster. Absolutely soaked with the sinful concoction of your juices and his cum. “We’ll be the best parents- ngh-” And fuck it was so much - too much. Too good. Painful pleasure.

Enough that all it takes is another, sloppy thrust before he’s seeing stars behind his eyes again. Cock twitching wildly inside your cunt as Satoru shoots load after load of cum to paint your pussy white. 

So warm with his cum - him - that Satoru’s body moves before his mind. Pooling the mess down below to nudge back into your cunt. “C’mon, pretty, c-can’t get ngh pregnant if ya don’t oh- cum.”

And it’s so embarrassing how that’’s all it takes for you to reach your high with a strained, barely audible moan. Voice shot, your own orgasm nothing but a few tingles that have your thighs fucking back into Satoru’s. 

“Satoru- Satoru Satoru Satoru.” you mewl, big fat tears streaming down your cheeks. Birds of a feather, they say. 

Hypnotized. Drunk off the feeling.

And, evidently, Satoru was, too. 

“Pretty…” his voice rings in your ear. Tinged with a tone you know didn’t bode well for you - or your poor, overfilled cunt. Bloated and dribbling already. “Are- sure- ngh-” 

And with a jolt, you realize he’s still moving. Still pushing and pulling in languid, slow strokes. Thighs shaking as the fatigue wears on him. 

If anyone saw Satoru like this, they’d have a heart attack. Flushed your favorite shade of pink, the lower half of his body well covered with a sheen of your obscenities. Eyes teary with sensitivity, cock still twitching and so angry as he clears his throat and tries again, “Are we- hah- sure it took?”

“Wh-what-” you gasp, breathing in big, deep inhales. “Yes- yes yes- oh my god it’won’t-”

“It will.” Satoru’s interruption almost comes out as a whine. And he’s more sluggish, dazed when he flips you over onto your back again - not too difficult, with the way you were practically splayed out already. “Th-this pussy is made to take it, right? T-to be bred by me?”

It’s almost like Satoru was begging for confirmation, plugging back in the excess of what was leaking out of your abused pussy. It was spreading in a lewd little pool now, seeping into the non-existent space between you two.

But oh how Satoru loved it. Couldn’t tear his eyes off of it, in fact as he noses at your neck. Barely even thrusting anymore, just raw grinds, “Right? Gotta make sure- ngh- heir. Oh-”

He’s darting his tongue out to lick at the beads of tears streaming down your cheek. The salty taste on his tongue having Satoru’s hips stuttering forwards. Again. And again - alternating, not on purpose - between hitting your cervix and that bruised g-spot. “Gonna give me an heir? Ohhh fuck fuck fuck- lemme breed this cunt?”

You’re using up every bit of energy left in your body to give that slow, shallow nod. Which is all the time it takes for the pool to spread even wider. For Satoru’s fingers to stumble their way back to play with your clit. 

Rolling his thumb over in a harsh, uncalculated pattern - if you could even call it that, just jerky, obscene movements to get you off. 

And it works. Hell, the two of you are barely in the state of mind to even feel it. But he’s finally cumming again, and so are you. 

“Ngh- Fuck-”

With a loud, pained cry Satoru tightens his grip on your body like a vice. Raw, sensitive, overusing his cock until it felt so empty. Until you felt so bloated it was like you could explode - or maybe that was your own orgasm. “Toru- c-cumming.”

You’re not sure, anymore. And you don’t know if either of you could bring yourselves to care at this moment, not when your eyelids grow heavy. Vision tinging with black in the corners, and the only thing you could see was your husbands face - sweaty, eyes almost closed, kiss-bitten lips moving in a soundless whisper.  “-the best- momma.”

A/N. CLAN LEADER GOJO SAVE MEE. Oh yeah the “can’t get pregnant without the momma cumming” bit was based on this old tale I’d heard where people used to gen believe that. 

Plagiarism not authorized.

[choerrypuffs]

red velvet hearts.

pairing: bad boy!donghyuck x baker!reader

genre: fluff, slight angst

word count: 7.7k

synopsis: you patch up a boy with a bloody nose and bruised knuckles, only to find out that he has quite the sweet tooth.

author’s note: why do i keep injuring hyuck in all my fics lmao??? anyways i tried to write his character a bit differently than i usually do to challenge myself so please let me know how you guys like it! also remember, ladies: this is fiction. you cannot fix him <3

warning(s): brief description of injuries, mentions of violence, maximum amounts of cringe and melodrama

playlist: all my ghosts by lizzy mcalpine ― heart eyes by coin ― close to you by gracie abrams ― sidelines by phoebe bridgers ― the alchemy by taylor swift

RECIPE 1. TIRAMISU

“This is not what I meant when I said you need your back blown out.” 

“Not funny. I almost died,” you grumble as you wrap the back brace around your torso. You hate the immediate relief you feel from the support it provides, no longer able to tell yourself that it’s really not as bad as it seems―which only makes you angrier. 

“Throwing your back out while lifting a giant bag of flour and nearly getting crushed to death by said flour is genuinely the funniest fucking thing I’ve ever heard,” Yeri, your best friend (derogatory), snorts as she shakes her head. “I wish you had cameras in the storage room because I want to see that shit so bad.”

“Thank you for the brace. You can get the hell out now.” You roll your eyes. 

“So, what are you going to do now? Aren’t you swamped with orders?” Yeri asks, ignoring you completely. 

You have no clue what you’re going to do now. It isn’t just orders you have to worry about fulfilling; it’s also the freshly baked pastries that you have to sell every morning. After a year of blood, sweat, and tears, the bakery that you built from the ground up is finally starting to gain some stable business. So, of course, you chose now of all times to try to lift a bag of flour over your shoulder like you were Dwayne The Rock Johnson. 

“I think I’ll have to hire some temporary help,” you answer begrudgingly. 

“You could sound less like someone is holding you at gunpoint,” Yeri snorts, “Come on. It had to happen sooner or later anyway.” 

“I was handling things just fine on my own.”

“Were you, though?” Yeri raises an eyebrow, gesturing to your current state. 

You fear you walked right into that one. “Shut up and help me make some posters.” 

The two of you eventually manage to whip up some haphazard “Help Wanted” posters, the letters written in glitter pen and Yeri’s clumsy bubble text. You tried your best to fill in the empty gaps on the construction paper by placing Pompompurin stickers that you normally give to customers’ kids all over it. The posters look like a nine-year-old girl’s school project gone wrong, but you hope it’s charming enough to catch some attention. 

By the time you and Yeri finish hanging up all the posters, the sun is already starting to set, and all you want to do is go home and put a heating pad on your back. After saying bye to Yeri, you start making your way back to the bakery to lock up. Once you arrive, you notice a figure dressed in black slumped over in front of the door. You can see their shoulders rise up and down as they take in labored breaths, leaning against the glass door for support. 

Every rational fiber in your being screams at you to not approach the stranger alone, but it’s not like you can just leave this person at the front of your place of business. Cautiously taking a step forward, you squat down to eye level with the stranger, wincing slightly from back pain. Through the sweaty and matted mess of his brown fringe, you can see that the stranger is a young man around your age. However, his face is absolutely battered: bloody (and almost certainly broken) nose, split lip, black eye swollen shut, and a jagged cut on his cheek. If he notices your presence, he doesn’t show it, keeping his head hung down.

Gingerly placing a hand on his arm, you give him a small shake. “Excuse me? Are you okay? Do you need me to call an ambulance?” 

His brows furrow, and he opens an eye (the only one he’s probably able to open) with a wince before lifting a finger and putting it against his lips. You notice that his knuckles are completely scraped raw. 

“Not so loud. I’m okay,” he answers. 

“You don’t look―” 

As if on cue, his stomach rumbles with a guttural growl that slowly drawls into a sputtering gurgle before dying out all together―leaving a long silence to hang between the two of you.

After another beat, he gives you a sheepish smile. “You got anything to eat?” 

You stare at him for a moment; his face is flushed, pink all the way down to his neck. 

And like a stupid horror movie character who opens the door to a room that clearly screams danger, you nod. 

.

.

.

Fortunately, he―Donghyuck, as he introduced himself―ends up not being a crazy ax murderer. 

Unfortunately, you find yourself awkwardly sitting in your closed bakery with a virtual stranger, fiddling with a first aid kit while watching him absolutely devour a piece of leftover tiramisu that you had in your fridge. If the situation wasn’t so insane, you might actually think it was pretty funny. For someone who looks the way he does, this current picture of Donghyuck absolutely doesn’t suit him―bruised chipmunk cheeks stuffed with ladyfingers and cocoa powder stuck on his split lip. 

When he’s finished, Donghyuck looks over at you with a mesmerized expression on his face, as if you just fed him ambrosia. There’s a softness to his face that you didn’t think could exist underneath all that grime and dried blood. 

“That was…delicious,” he breathes. 

“Thanks,” you snort, pushing a glass of water towards him. Unsurprisingly, he chugs it in the blink of an eye. “I still think you should get those injuries checked out, though.” 

“Nah, I’ll rub a little spit in them and it’ll be fine,” he shrugs. 

“Don’t be gross,” you sigh, scooting your chair closer to him as you set the first aid kit on the table. “Now, come here.” 

Donghyuck reluctantly dips his head, and you carefully cup his jaw for support, disinfecting and applying ointment on the cuts and scrapes on his face. You also clean up the dried blood near his nostrils and on his bottom lip, and he doesn’t flinch even when you accidentally brush tender areas like his broken nose or the gash on his mouth. Instead, he stays perfectly still, leaned back in the chair with his forearms resting on his thighs and fingers nonchalantly laced together. 

He keeps his gaze trained on something past your shoulder, and you also try your best to focus, but it’s hard to keep yourself from staring―especially when his demeanor has changed so much. He’s so calm and quiet in such a cold, ruthless manner, as if he’s physically steeling himself from pain―like he’s done this a million times before. Occasionally, you feel his eyes swipe across your face when he thinks you’re not paying attention, and it occurs to you how close the two of you are. Suddenly, you’re acutely aware of the heat of his skin against your palm and fingertips, and you rip your hand away from his jaw. 

Clearing your throat, you move onto his hands, dabbing his raw knuckles with a cotton ball soaked in alcohol before placing large band-aids on them. Despite your best efforts, it’s hard not to notice how slim his long fingers are or how surprisingly clean his nail beds are for someone who’s covered in blood. You keep your head completely bent, fighting the urge of looking up and possibly meeting his eyes. 

“There, all done,” you announce a little too loudly. 

“Thank you,” he says softly, “for the cake and for this. For helping me.” 

“Don’t worry about it. I didn’t do much,” you blurt, still avoiding eye contact as you clean up the table. However, you notice in your peripheral that his gaze follows your movements, almost hesitantly, before he asks: 

“So, you’re hiring?” 

You click the first-aid kit shut, blinking a few times before turning back to him. He looks at you with a raised eyebrow, waiting for an answer.

“I―yeah. How did you know that?” you ask, puzzled by such a random question. 

Donghyuck points at a poster that you didn’t even know you left here, sitting on the table right behind you. You realize that he was probably looking at it while you were patching him up. 

“That poster that says ‘help wanted.’ With the Pompompurin stickers. I’m actually in between jobs right now, so if you would have me―”

“You know Pompompurin?” you interrupt him. It’s not that important and should not stand out to you as much as it does. Yet, you can’t help but grin at the fact that someone like him knows about a tubby Golden Retriever character with a name that sounds like a mashup of the English language’s most adorable onomatopeias. 

Donghyuck trails off, stiffening as if you just found out his deepest, darkest secret. He opens his mouth slightly, trying to speak but unable to formulate a response―an excuse, rather. Instead, he just lets out an airy cough, putting a hand over his mouth and turning away from you in an attempt to obscure his face. Despite his best efforts, he can’t hide his glowing red ears and the way his earlier coldness melts away.

“I―yeah,” he responds, words slightly muffled by his hand. 

You struggle to maintain your composure as you gnaw on your bottom lip to keep from laughing. Fighting a smile in your voice, you finally say: 

“The pay won’t be that much, but you’ll get a bunch of free desserts at the end of the day. Are you okay with that?” 

It takes him a moment to process that you’re offering him the job, and you watch his eyes light up and a warm smile overtake his face. There’s still a light shade of pink dusting his cheeks, clashing with the purple bruising and swelling of his injuries. 

“I’d love nothing more.”

Suddenly, it occurs to you that Donghyuck somewhat reminds you of a tiramisu. 

He may look a bit rugged and grimey, bitter like coffee, but in actuality, underneath it all, he’s soft and fluffy (but not too sweet) like a mascarpone filling. 

RECIPE 2. BLUEBERRY PIE

“Are you out of your mind?”

You cringe away from your phone, hurriedly turning the volume down. “Damn, you don’t have to scream like that.” 

“You should be the one screaming,” Yeri hollers. “I better not come over one day and find your body stuffed in the freezer or something.”

“I thought you wanted me to hire someone!” 

“Not some random dude off the side of the street who was covered in injuries and doesn’t even have any baking experience,” Yeri hisses. 

“I don’t need him to bake. I just have him working the front counter and doing all the heavy lifting when I get my ingredient shipments,” you protest. “Did you think I would really just hand over all my orders to some random dude and go party it up in Cancún or something?” 

Yeri is silent for several seconds before asking, “He’s hot, isn’t he?”

“What?”

“So you did know what I meant when I said you needed your back blown out.” You can hear the smugness in her voice. 

“Yeri,” you say tiredly, “please be serious.”

“I am serious. You’re the one being unserious,” she retorts. “Yesterday, you acted like you would rather sacrifice your firstborn child before hiring a part-timer, and now look at you. Dickmatized.” 

“Okay, I’m hanging up now.”

“So, when do I get to meet him―”

You quickly hit the button to end the call and shove your phone into your pocket, letting out an exasperated sigh. You definitely won’t be hearing the end of that for a while. Your face feels warm for some reason, and you decide that you need a coffee break. After you finish making it, you pour yourself and Donghyuck a cup. 

You peek your head out from the curtain that separates the kitchen and the front counter to see if Donghyuck is busy. He’s politely chatting with an elderly woman, and your eyes nearly pop out of your head when he takes out the entire tray of egg tarts in the glass display and wraps it up for her. The woman happily hands him a wad of bills and waves him goodbye. After putting the cash in the register, Donghyuck turns around and catches you in the middle of gawking. 

“Oh, Y/N. I was actually just about to head back there. We’re out of egg tarts for the display,” he says nonchalantly. 

“Uh, yeah, I can see that,” you whisper loudly, “Was that Mrs. Kim? Why the hell did she order a dozen egg tarts? That woman can barely finish a single cookie.” 

Donghyuck blinks, clearly confused, whispering back, “She asked for my recommendation, so I said egg tarts since no one had bought any yet, and she said she would take all of them.” 

You pause, things finally clicking. Grinning knowingly, you say, “You know, having you work the front is doing wonders for sales.” 

“I don’t understand.” He furrows his brows. 

You laugh, handing him his cup of coffee. “I’m talking about your face card, Donghyuck. You’re too handsome, so you’re flustering the customers.” 

“Are we not whispering anymore?” he asks awkwardly. “Besides, that’s not true. Look at the state of my face right now.” 

His injuries have faded significantly, but the bruising and cuts are still there. You want to tell him that superficial wounds can’t mask the warmth in his caramel-brown eyes, the fullness of his cheeks and the sharp jawline, and the air of mystery that enshrouds him and draws people in. 

But you don’t. 

“Well, for someone who’s only been working here for two weeks, you’re doing superb. Injuries or not.” 

And it’s true. You’ve always preferred to work alone because you’re the only one who understands how you want things done. You naturally assumed it would be a hassle and a waste of time to try to explain to someone else when you could just do it yourself, but Donghyuck never seems to need an explanation. In fact, he knows before even you. 

He gets to the bakery three hours before you, cleans and preps all the equipment you need for the day, unloads the ingredient shipments, and is already manning the front counter by the time you arrive like it was no big deal at all. He also seems to have a sixth sense of knowing when you’re about to do something you shouldn’t be, even though you downplayed your back injury. He’s somehow always there―moving all the stuff you keep on the top shelf to somewhere within your reach even though you insisted that the rickety wooden step stool you use is perfectly safe, cleaning up a glass beaker that you accidentally shattered, taking out the trash during his breaks, checking in on you when you skip lunch. He even turned down his first paycheck, saying it’s repayment for patching him up and feeding him. 

Donghyuck is so perfect that sometimes you wonder if you’re being set up, like maybe he’s secretly embezzling money from the cash register―which would be a more viable theory if he didn’t drive an Audi to work everyday. 

“Thanks for the compliment. And the coffee,” Donghyuck says, snapping you out of your thoughts. He gingerly takes a sip and makes a strangled noise, a mixture being choking and retching, before slapping a hand over his mouth. 

“Are you okay? Was it too hot?” you ask worriedly. 

“No, it’s just…really bitter,” he mumbles, words muffled in his hand. 

“Oh,” you blink, “Sorry. I drink black coffee, so I forgot to ask if you wanted creamer and sugar. Come on, there’s some in the back.” 

The two of you head to the kitchen, and you watch him dump an exorbitant amount of creamer and sugar in his coffee, the dark roast swirling into something more akin to milk tea.

“You know, there might be some chocolate milk in the fridge if you’d rather that,” you tease. 

His head shoots up, those doe eyes lighting up. “Really?” 

“No,” you trail off awkwardly, “Sorry, I'm just messing with you.” 

It’s a bit adorable that you can visibly see him being disappointed in there not being chocolate milk before growing embarrassed, looking down at his cup. He turns away from you, but you can see the flush on the back of his neck. 

“You really have a sweet tooth, huh?” you laugh. 

“Pretty lame, right?” 

“Why would that be lame? You’re talking to someone who owns a bakery, in case you forgot.” 

Donghyuck smiles at you, and it’s sugary sweet like buttercream frosting. He looks at you like you just said the most wonderful thing in the world; in fact, he always makes you feel like that, no matter what you say or do. “I guess you’re right.” 

“What’s your favorite dessert?” you blurt, needing a distraction urgently. 

He pauses briefly. “I don’t think I have one.”

That actually surprises you. “You don’t? Even though you love sweets so much?” 

He laughs, the sound harsh and rough, and it almost makes you flinch. “I’ve never really had an opportunity to have many until now.” 

There’s clearly weight behind his words, but you know you’re not in a position to ask any further. A selfish part of you wants to be important enough to him that you are in a position to know more, but you’re all too aware about him very purposefully keeping you at arm’s length. 

“Well, you have plenty of time to find out,” you quickly continue, pretending not to notice. “Actually, I’m going to a blueberry farm tomorrow because I’m thinking about adding blueberry pie to the menu. When I get back, I’ll bake one for you, and you can be the first to taste test it!” 

“You’re going by yourself?” Donghyuck raises an eyebrow. 

“Of course. Who else would I go with?” 

“Me. I’ll go with you,” he replies immediately. 

“But it’s, like, a forty-five-minute bus ride to the farm. Plus, coming with me to get ingredients isn’t part of your job description anyway,” you explain. 

“I can’t come with you on my own free time?” he asks, tilting his head. “Besides, I’m worried about you overexerting yourself with that back injury. A bumpy bus ride definitely isn’t going to help, so I’ll drive us there.” 

“You’re going to drive that fancy ass car to a farm? You do realize it’s going to be dirt roads, right?” You cross your arms. 

“I think I’ll live. Besides, what makes you think this is the only fancy ass car I own?” He gives you an amused smile. 

“You’re joking, right?” You stare at him. 

He hesitates for a moment. “Yes.” 

“That doesn’t sound―”

“What time are we leaving tomorrow morning?” 

“...Seven.”

.

.

.

Unsurprisingly, Donghyuck picks you up right on time, not a minute too early or late. As the universe would have it, it rained the night prior―meaning all the dirt roads are now rivers of mud. You wince every time you heard a splat of mud hit Donghyuck’s pristine white car, but he seems to pay no mind to it. The two of you arrive at the farm within twenty minutes (he found a shortcut), and because you came so early, you get the entire farm to yourselves. The staff arms both of you with a large wicker basket each before setting you loose onto the massive property. 

“Okay, make sure to pick the fat ones. The small ones are super tart, so avoid those,” you instruct Donghyuck. “We’re going to fill these baskets to the brim and get our money’s worth.” 

“You got it, Captain.” He salutes. 

You give him a determined nod and a thumbs up before turning to your respective side and beginning to pick the blueberries. The two of you work without much fanfare or conversation, and it’s a silence that lingers between you comfortably. It reassures you to hear the sound of the bushes rustling from Donghyuck working; his companionship alone relaxes you. 

Eventually, when the sun starts peeking through and the weather grows warmer, both of you decide to take a break. You find a spot in the shade before sitting down, pulling out snacks and bottles of water from a backpack Donghyuck brought along. 

“I have a surprise for you,” you tell him, trying to hide a smile. “Close your eyes.” 

He eyes you suspiciously but does so anyway. You fish out a handful of unripe blueberries wrapped in a handkerchief from your pocket and feed some to him. His reaction is nearly instant the moment he starts chewing them; you watch as his face puckers up from how sour they are and his entire body shrivels into itself, a shudder running through him. He’s polite enough to not spit them out, but you’re not polite enough to resist pointing and laughing at him. Throwing your head back, you laugh so hard that your stomach starts to hurt. 

“Oh my God, your face!” 

“Ugh,” Donghyuck groans, taking a big gulp of his water. “I should’ve known you had sinister intentions from the start.” 

“I didn’t think you’d react like that,” you finally manage to say after catching your breath. “You really can’t handle anything except for sweet stuff.” 

“Are you having fun bullying me?” He rolls his eyes. 

“So much fun,” you say in a sing-song voice. 

Donghyuck tries to continue feigning annoyance, but he can’t help the low chuckle that rumbles in his chest. His eyes always soften when he looks at you, and his gaze is intimate like a lover’s―gentle, tender, unwavering, and vulnerable. But his warmth is always fleeting, and he only allows you glimpses of it through the unmoving walls that he’s erected around himself. 

You wish he wouldn’t indulge you so, terrified you’ll try to cross the line he’s drawn between the two of you. 

“What are you thinking about?” Donghyuck asks, trying to read your expression

“About the delicious pie I’m about to make when we get back,” you smile. 

“I see,” he responds, though it’s clear he isn’t convinced. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“You better be. This is how I’m paying you back for driving me here,” you nod. 

“Instead of that, pay me back by telling me what your favorite dessert is,” he suddenly says. “I do still want the pie, though.” 

“That was random,” you snort. “Why do you want to know my favorite dessert?”

“Because you asked me, but you never told me yours.” 

You suppose he has a point, but you find it ironic that he wants to know more about you when he refuses to offer you even a modicum of information about himself. Despite this, you tell him anyway because you are obviously the fool here. 

“If you must know, it’s red velvet cake,” you sigh. 

“Why?” 

You don’t answer at first, carefully thinking about if you’re ready to be vulnerable in front of him―still a virtual stranger. A virtual stranger who loves sweets. A virtual stranger who is a bit of a messy eater. A virtual stranger who knows Pompompurin. A virtual stranger who worries about you even when he’s not on the clock. A virtual stranger who gently tells you to be careful whenever you try to do something dangerous, whispering, “I’ll do it instead.” A virtual stranger who allows his luxury car to be caked in mud for you. 

“Because it’s the dessert that made me realize I want to do this for the rest of my life,” you finally say. “I baked it for my mom’s birthday, and I think I ended up being more excited than her.” 

Donghyuck stays quiet, gauging your reaction. 

“I was in college, studying to be a doctor like everyone else in my family. So, like a dumb young person who thought that dreams were more important than money, I dropped out of college and went to culinary school. My parents told me I was ruining mine and their lives, disowned me, yada-yada―a bunch of depressing stuff, you know. Eventually, I graduated, took out a huge loan, and opened up my own bakery. Worked a bunch of part-time jobs until my business could stand on its own. Now here I am. Still in debt, though,” you laugh awkwardly. “But I’m not doing too shabby. I was able to hire you, so at least I have a little cash to spare.” 

He still doesn’t say anything, so you find yourself starting to ramble. You’re really not sure what possessed you to trauma dump on him like that. 

“You know, a lot of people talk shit about red velvet cake because they say the only thing that makes it special is the red food coloring,” you hurriedly explain, “but that’s not true. The cream cheese frosting is super important too. Also, I always say love is the most important ingredient of all. As a baker, you’re kind of baring your heart to the customer, and isn’t it kind of cute that red velvet cake is red like a heart? Okay, please say something now or else I think I’m going to projectile vomit.” 

Donghyuck reaches over and brushes a sweaty lock of hair out of your face. His fingers brush over your temple, which makes you sharply suck in a breath. You almost lean into his touch, but you catch yourself. His hand slightly lingers on the side of your neck, like he wants to bring your face closer, but he eventually pulls away. 

He searches your face, and you’re not sure what he’s looking for―if anything. Rather, perhaps he’s not searching. Perhaps he’s committing your features to his memory, as if the way you look right now is something he wants to remember forever. 

“You’ve worked hard, Y/N,” he says softly, voice slightly hoarse. “This is long overdue, but congratulations. You achieved your dream, and don’t let anyone ever discount that. Not even yourself.” 

You wonder how long you’ve waited to hear that. You’re not even sure you knew you needed to hear that. But when Donghyuck says it, it hits you just how long and hard you’ve worked all on your own without a single break. Throughout the years, you’ve really only ever heard, “I’m sorry that happened.” When was the last time someone congratulated you? When was the last time you congratulated yourself? 

You surge forward, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and burying your face in his shoulder. Donghyuck cradles you against him, one hand wound tightly around your waist while the other is tangled in your hair. You can feel his chest rise up and down as he holds you. He smells like lavender soap and a bit earthy from being outside, and the warmth of his skin against your cheek makes you want to close your eyes and fall asleep in his arms. 

“Thank you,” you whisper. 

“No, thank you,” he murmurs into your hair. 

You’re not sure why he’s thanking you instead, but what you are sure of is that you’re crossing the line, taking a step towards him and wondering if he’ll meet you halfway. 

.

.

.

“Tada!” you announce cheerfully, setting down the freshly baked blueberry pie onto the table. 

Donghyuck claps excitedly. “Holy shit, it looks amazing.” 

“I’m still trying to figure out the right portions for the filling, so let me know if you think there’s too much or little,” you tell him as you hand him a slice. 

Without even answering you, he stabs his fork into the pie and almost eats the entire slice in one bite, seemingly unbothered by the steam still rising from it. 

“Be careful. You’re going to burn your tastebuds off. I’m not letting you eat it for shits and giggles, you know. This is for research purposes.” You cross your arms. 

“It’s perfect, Y/N. I’m serious,” Donghyuck says after swallowing. “The filling isn’t too sweet, and the crust is airy and light.” 

“Well, alright, Gordon Ramsay. I think we’re going to be adding a new menu item then,” you smile. “Think you can get Mrs. Kim to buy a dozen of these?”

“I don’t think she’ll need much convincing with how good these taste.” 

“You’re so easy,” you tease. “All I need to do is feed you. Anyways, I’m going to clean up here, but you should head home. It’s getting late, and you wake up way earlier than me.” 

“I’ll help,” he insists. 

“Go,” you order, pointing at the door. “I can handle it.” 

He looks conflicted but eventually relents when you threaten to physically kick him out. Before he leaves, he turns back to you and says, “Thank you, Y/N.”

“Why do you keep thanking me?” you laugh. 

“It’s been a long time since I’ve had this.”

“What? A blueberry pie?”

Donghyuck pauses, a slight wonder in his expression, as if he’s realizing his answer for the first time as well.

“Peace.” 

And you think maybe this is a step forward for him too. 

RECIPE 3. CREAM PUFF

It’s quite surreal how easily and naturally you and Donghyuck fall into a routine together. Somehow, in the blink of an eye, two weeks becomes two months. You’ve learned the little things about him, like how he always swipes some icing before you can fill up the piping bag or that he’s not a coffee drinker at all (more of a hot cocoa person) or that he purses his lips when a dessert he’s testing tastes off (no matter how hard he tries to hide it) or that he involuntarily sticks his arm out in front of you when he wants to stop you from doing something you shouldn’t. 

You also notice that he sometimes comes into work with injuries. They’re not nearly as bad as the first time you met him, but it’s hard to ignore a bruised cheek or bloodied knuckles. He always has a reason for them, whether it’s tripping down the stairs or accidentally falling down and scraping his hands on the concrete. You can tell by the way he laughs it off that he doesn’t plan on telling you the truth, so you laugh with him. The two of you, having taken only a step towards one another, find yourselves completely immobile now. 

He always does this: envelops you like a cloud but disappears the moment you reach out for him. 

You’re honestly not sure why he’s still here. Your injury has long healed, and he clearly doesn’t need the abysmal pay you’re giving him. He feels like he’ll slip away at any moment, fleeting like a warm spring breeze, and you suppose time flies by when you know it’s limited. Despite knowing that, you can’t help but desperately want him to stay. 

“I think it’s cute how hard he’s working,” Yeri randomly says one day as she eyes Donghyuck prepare orders in the front. He’s in the middle of a lunchtime rush, so he doesn’t even notice the two of you watching him like weirdos.

“Well, that’s what I’m paying him to do,” you reply, rolling his eyes. 

“Oh, I think the money is the least of his worries here,” she hums, taking a sip of her coffee. 

She has a point, but you’re pretty sure she’s implying something else as well. Just as you go to ask her what exactly she means, you hear a loud clatter. Flinching, you turn your attention back to Donghyuck and realize that he’s dropped a tray on the floor. However, the tray is the last thing on your mind when you see the expression on his face. It’s a mixture of horror, anger, and almost sadness―like he’s finally come face-to-face with whatever he’s been running from. It makes your blood run cold. 

Donghyuck is looking at a boy around his age; the boy has dark hair, a mole under his eye, and a grim expression. More importantly, he’s covered in injuries too. 

“Who is that?” Yeri whispers. “Why does Donghyuck look like he’s seen a ghost?” 

Maybe because he has, you want to tell her. 

Donghyuck grabs the boy's arm, squeezing so tightly that his knuckles turn white, and mumbles something to him. When he turns around and meets your eyes, he looks pained and fearful as if you witnessed something you shouldn’t have.

“Is it okay if I take my break early today?” he asks calmly, though the tremor in his voice gives him away. 

You nod hesitantly, unable to force yourself to speak. You watch him as he drags the boy out; when he passes you, you can tell how tightly his body is wound right now. His jaw is clenched, a muscle spasming as he tries to control himself, and every step he takes seems labored. He’s running on pure adrenaline right now, like he’s physically steeling himself. 

However, you don’t think he’s ever appeared so incredibly alone before. As you watch his back disappear further and further from your view, you’re unsure if he’ll ever return, and you never imagined how terrifying that would be. 

.

.

.

The cream puffs aren’t rising.

You’re crouched in front of the oven, watching the dough remain flat and lifeless. You should’ve known better than to attempt to make cream puffs on such a shitty day, especially when pastries like these are so sensitive to the environment and atmosphere. Even though you know you should probably just scrap them and try again, you wait for just a little longer, hoping that maybe if you wish hard enough that they’ll magically start to rise. 

But then again you suppose that no matter how hard you try, no matter how careful you are, no matter how perfect the batter is, no matter how much time you spend time piping them, no matter how much you want them to rise, they won’t. 

You decide that Donghyuck isn’t like a tiramisu at all; he’s sensitive and delicate and elusive and frustrating like a cream puff. 

“Y/N, they’re burning.” 

Losing your balance and nearly falling over, you gasp loudly. You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t even hear Donghyuck walk into the kitchen, nor did you smell the undeniable scent of something being burnt to a crisp. 

“Oh, fu―!” you curse, hurriedly opening the oven and casually suffocating both you and Donghyuck with a hot plume of air. Sputtering, you look around and grab a random rag from the sink before reaching for the cream puffs. 

“Wait, stop!” Donghyuck stops you with an outstretched arm, his hand pressed to your side. “Let me do it.” 

He gently takes the rag from your hand and removes the tray of charred cream puffs from the oven, dumping them into the trash before putting the tray in the sink and running some water on it―just how you like it. 

Letting out a relieved sigh, he turns back to you and asks, “Are you okay? It’s not like you to make a mistake like that. You didn’t get burned anywhere, did you?” 

When you don’t answer immediately, Donghyuck rushes forward and grabs your hands, carefully examining your fingers and arms. “Wait, are you hurt? Where? Tell me where you got burned. We have to cool it down with some lukewarm water. And don’t just say you’re fine. Burns are not a joke, Y/N―why are you looking at me like that?” 

His hands are calloused and rough, and you can still see scabs from where he tore his knuckles, yet he touches you like you’re the delicate one. He’s covered in fresh and old wounds, yet he looks so panicked at the thought of you having a scratch. 

“Shut up,” you whisper furiously, ripping your hands away from him. “From now on, don’t ask me another question. It’s my turn to ask you questions.” 

He blinks, a bit stunned by your reaction, but it’s clear he knows what you’re about to say. He goes to reach for you again but decides against it. “Okay.” 

“Who was that guy?” you demand. “Why are you always covered in injuries? Why did you lie to me? Who are you?” 

“He’s an old friend,” Donghyuck starts quietly. 

“Do you treat all your friends like that?” 

“When I don’t want to see them.” 

You wait for him to continue.

“Before I met you, he and I and a few of our other friends worked…odd jobs for cash,” he explains, and he looks like he’s choking on every word. “The jobs usually entailed us hurting people and also getting hurt. I did a lot of shit I wasn’t proud of. At the time, I didn’t really care. It was just nice to feel something, whether it was the adrenaline rush from doing the punching or the pain from being punched. I got a bunch of money, bought a bunch of expensive stuff, but none of it mattered. Eventually, I just felt nothing again. I didn’t even have the energy to loathe myself anymore. So, I took one last job, got the shit kicked out of me, and then I left. That’s when you found me―”

He inhales, and his eyes flicker towards you. He gazes at you so longingly, as if you were impossibly out of his reach, that you can’t help but involuntarily take a step towards him. 

But he steps back. 

“I thought that working here would make me feel like a human being again, but I didn’t realize how much I would―” He pauses again. “I thought working here would be a nice reset for me, but I naively thought that I could completely leave my past behind. My friends eventually found me, and I guess I care about those reckless assholes more than I thought because they managed to convince me to take on a few more jobs with them. That’s why I’ve been coming to work with injuries. But I’m done. I cut them off for good when they walked into this bakery. I don’t want…I don’t want our past to tarnish this place. I want to keep this place a beautiful, warm, and pure safe haven that you worked so hard for it to be. That’s why I lied to you, Y/N. I’m a coward to the bone, and I was envious of you. I was ashamed to admit it to you. You, who had the courage to chase after your dream. You, who had the kindness to help a good-for-nothing asshole like me. I only want you to have happy memories from now on, and I am not one of them.” 

“Are you going to leave?” you ask softly. 

“I probably should,” he answers shakily. 

“What’s stopping you?” 

“Just…one reason.” 

“When you say it like that, it makes it sound like the reason is me.” 

Donghyuck laughs bitterly, and his eyes drag across your face like every movement hurts him.

“You know it’s you. It’s always been you.” 

When you reach for his hand, he turns away like just the warmth from your body heat burns him. So instead, you take a step back. 

“I won’t ask you to stay, Donghyuck, I won’t chase you. I’m going to wait right here, and it’s up to you if you're going to meet me halfway.” 

RECIPE 4. RED VELVET CAKE

When your alarm clock goes off the next morning, you seriously consider just not showing up to work. It’s not like you can be fired for being a no-show when you’re your own boss, after all. 

And it’s not like you have any employees who will be expecting you. 

You’ll just apologize to Mrs. Kim and your other regulars later. You’re allowed to have a day where you just rot in bed and feel sorry for yourself. 

However, no matter how much you tell yourself that, you find yourself crawling out of bed and getting ready anyway. You can’t seem to brutally crush that small glimmer of hope that Donghyuck might still be there, no matter how hard you try. When you see yourself in the mirror, you recoil in horror. Your eyes are almost swollen shut from the amount of crying you did last night, and your face is sallow and lifeless. 

So much for putting on a brave face, you think wryly to yourself. You tried so hard to look tough, when in reality, you bawled your eyes out and even considered praying to God for Donghyuck to stay. It’s a humiliating and humbling reality check. 

“Stand up right now,” you sharply tell yourself in the mirror. “He’s just some guy. Get it together.” 

You do your best to clean up your appearance and make the trek over to the bakery. It takes another internal pep talk before you can make your way to the door. After you finally walk up, you see that the lights inside are off. Your stomach sinks, and your eyes start to burn. Even though you’re holding the handle, you can’t bring yourself to open the door. It’s an outcome that you expected, yet you wonder why it hurts so badly. 

“You liar,” you mumble to yourself, “You said you only wanted me to have happy memories.” 

Once you make your way inside, you numbly head towards the kitchen, trying to remember what exactly you have to do today. Oh right, now that he’s not here, you also have to make sure all the ingredients are prepped first. 

When you walk into the kitchen, you do a double-take. 

The whole place looks like it’s been completely ransacked: used pans and utensils piled up in the sink, two opened boxes of cake mix, containers of ingredients without lids on on the tables, random lumps of flour and egg shells strewn about― 

And right in front of the oven is Donghyuck, flour in his hair and frosting on his nose. He’s holding a cake stand with…you think it’s supposed to be a cake on it? The shape is mangled and haphazardly cut, but it has echoes of a heart. The frosting is a hot mess, as if a bird with diarrhea shat all over the cake. The batter is clearly underbaked and makes the cake look gooey in a bad way. 

“Um, I promise I’ll clean all of this up in a second, but I wanted to surprise you,” Donghyuck starts awkwardly. “It’s not perfect, but I tried making a red velvet cake for you.” 

You stare at him, still not sure how to react. 

“You once said that baking is like baring your heart to the customer and that love is the most important ingredient of all,” he laughs softly to himself. “I think love is the only ingredient I managed to get right, but I’m baring my heart to you now, Y/N. I’m sorry I hid everything and lied to you, but I’m in love with you. Hopelessly so. All my life, I’ve chased a feeling, not knowing what it was. But now I do. I don’t think I knew how to feel until I met you. I never once thought I would ever have a purpose in my life, but you make me want to be a normal, proper member of society. Your dream is my dream. I want to wake up at 5AM and sell egg tarts with you for the rest of my life, if you’ll have me.” 

Donghyuck sets the cake down on a table in front of you, and you notice that his fingers are dyed red from the food coloring. It almost reminds you of when you first met him, except his injuries have been replaced with red food coloring, flour, and cream cheese frosting. 

“This cake is terrible,” you smile, “how did you butcher it that badly when you used cake mix?” 

You watch him blush all the way down to his neck, as he sheepishly looks away. “Don’t make fun of me. I really tried my best. I stayed up watching tutorials―” 

Leaning across the table, you cup his face with both hands and kiss him, brushing your thumbs across his cheekbones. He tastes like frosting, hot cocoa, and your prayers being answered. The way he kisses you back is bruising, dizzying and knocking any coherent thought out of your head, his hands finding your hips and anchoring you to him. He kisses you like you’re the sweetest and most wonderful thing he’s ever tasted.

When you finally pull away, it takes you a moment to regain feeling in your legs. Donghyuck presses his forehead against yours, lips brushing against yours once again as the two of you try to catch your breath. 

“I think I’m going to have to fire you, though,” you whisper. “You know, with me being your boss and all. The power dynamic is too weird.” 

He hums, pausing for thought. “Then how about I become your business partner?” 

“What?”

Donghyuck reaches into his pocket and fishes out his wallet, pulling out a shiny and fancy-looking credit card. He hands it to you without much fanfare. 

“I have a lot of money, you know. So I’m going to invest in your business. Use it as you’d like,” he casually announces.

You stare at him, your jaw hanging wide open. He never tried to hide from you that he was rich, but he never told you that he was rich rich. 

“Well, damn! Why didn’t you show me this earlier? I would have forgiven you a lot sooner,” you tease, slapping him on the arm. “Are you sure you want to give this to me? I’m quite the gold-digger, you know.”

“When I told you to use it as you’d like, I meant me as well,” Donghyuck replies, shrugging.

“You’re insane.” You hope he can’t tell how much your face is burning up. 

“I guess I am,” he laughs, and you don’t think he’s ever looked so free. You want to tell him that you hope he only has happy memories from now on too. You want to tell him that you’ll rewrite all of his scars with sugary and fluffy desserts so that they won’t ever hurt again. 

And for the first time in your life, you feel it too.

Peace. 

EXTRA

“So, have you figured out what your favorite dessert is?” 

Donghyuck stirs slightly, groaning, as he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you closer. He slips his hand under your shirt (well, technically it’s his shirt) and rests it on your bare hip bone. 

“Why aren’t you asleep?” 

“Because I’m curious.” 

“If I answer, will you let me rest?”

“Depends on how good your answer is.” 

“Blueberry pie. That’s my answer.” 

You smile against the crook of his neck. 

“Why?” 

“Because it’s the dessert that made me realize I want to do this for the rest of my life.” 

[savanir]

DP x DC prompt [6]

Weapon design always came easy to Jack Fenton. He grew up with it, all the way back in Atlantis, when he was just a little guppy.

What he wasn’t aware of at the time was that his parents were from a long and prestigious line of scientists and weapon manufacturers in Atlantean society. But things had been getting dangerous. 

The King at the time cast them out when they refused his demands of greater, stronger, deadlier weapons. The kind of weapons they knew would not only destroy their enemies, but themselves as well.

They fled and went where they thought they would never be found, the surface.

Jack had the easiest time adapting, being as young as he was getting used to breathing air was a lot less of a struggle. 

He adopted one of the most generic male names he could, and adapted the family name of Fenestratus into Fenton. And then it was just living as a human, as humanly as possible, nothing to see here.

By now Jack basically doesn’t know any better. but this piece of heritage is coming back now all these years later, when his son is looking to him for help from the government.

But first he holds his boy close and apologizes, because he sees the fear, and he understands a little too well, and he doesn’t like the picture he’s seeing now that all the puzzle pieces are falling into place.

“I almost became the thing I hate the most. I’m so sorry Danny, I’m sorry I made you feel unsafe in your own home”

The hug is long and warm and tight and Danny isn’t ashamed to admit he might have clung a little bit.

Then Jack holds Danny tightly by his shoulders and gives him a big grin, “Good news though, you’re only half ghost, the other half is not only human but also Atlantean, and there are laws protecting us now” Jack mutters to himself, “I wonder if the whole ghost stuff would actually be put under the meta protection thing… hmm”

Danny blinks for a moment, Jazz gapes, Maddie is suddenly no longer spiraling about how her baby boy got in a terrible accident in their lab and she didn’t know.

“I’m also what?”

“Dad!?”

“oh did I forget to mention that? I thought I did, I know for certain that I had been meaning to”

“Jack sweetie, are you-”

“oh yes, and I remember now, I decided to tell you after our big breakthrough because I didn’t want to distract you, and-” Jack looks sheepish, “I hope you aren’t too mad at me Maddiecakes”

“mad? oh I would never be mad at you about this but we could have- I don’t know, accommodated- Atlanteans are aquatic, well I guess that explains how you could always put away so much water, and when you gave me your umbrella and I thought you were just making an excuse when you told me you didn’t mind and in fact loved getting pelted by the rain-”

Maddie goes on, and Jack thinks to himself that this is exactly the reason why he kept it to himself at the time, Maddie never half asses anything, he’s sure a lot of things are going to change in the house now, it honestly only makes him fall in love with her even more.

Meanwhile Jazz had filled up a bucket of water and then dunked her head in, then came back out not even slightly gasping for breath, just saying “oh my god” over and over.

Danny timed it, “yeah okay, I guess that proves it. now I’m starting to wonder if my weird relationship with air is ghost related at all”

[rimunagenius]

It’s Time You Switch

ʚ pairing: Paige Bueckers x reader

ʚ word count: 4.4k words

ʚ prompt: “Fuck your boyfriend, he a bitch. I think it’s time you switch.”

ʚ warnings: RPF!! , smut!!, voyeurism, dirty talk?, face riding, fingering, oral reader!receiving, basically porn with little plot

ʚ rimunagenius speaks: in which Paige turns straight girls ;) i have not written smut since my wattpad era so im sooo insanely rusty but i also have never felt the touch of a woman romantically sooo idek if this will be any good…suggestions are welcome to make it better!! and for future works!!

| Masterlist | Women’s Basketball Masterlist |

"I don't know what I did to him, though. That's what I can't let go. He's being so dry and cold." You told the team as you did dynamic warm up before practice started.

Coach G just shook his head, listening to all your guy problems. This was just another boy for him to hate on campus. At this rate, the whole male and female population at UConn was on his shit list.

"I say, you dump him." KK said, patting your back mid walking lunge. "He's been doing this for months now, it's time to drop him, girl boo.” You told KK a lot of things. She was just a freshman but she become a quick and good friend.

You met her in a class you had been taking and started talking, soon finding out you were both on the same team. It shocked her, but after finding out you stayed off social media, the press release of her committing was new news. You were a senior and she was a freshman, but this friendship was like you two knew eachother forever.

"Yeah, I agree with K." Paige said, from the other side of you. A soft, comforting smile on her face.

"You know what could fix this? A girls night." Aaliyah smiled, her eyebrows wiggling suggesting you guys go out.

"I know you're not planning to go out, get drunk on the night before a game." Coach yelled from his seat on the bench.

"But Coach, c'mon! My girls feeling sad." Paige feigned a pout, grabbing your shoulders and pointing your face, you pouting your lips and batting your lashes.

"Nah, it's okay. I don't really want to go out anyways. Staying in is the move." You sighed, the stretching finished.

You talked about it all practice—sad about it all practice. After, Paige suggested you come over to her place, a sleepover. You begrudgingly agreed. Telling her she needed to take you home to get some clothes; Paige shutting it down because you could borrow hers.

That was the first mistake. It didn't feel like a mistake in the end but that was the first step to a very confusing day afterwards. The second, sharing a bed with the blonde.

You both decided to lay in her bed, get fat on snacks, and watch all the movies you could before getting sleepy and tapping out for the night. I guess Paige had another tapping in mind.

"You know he doesn't deserve you so why do you stay with him?" Paige disregarded the movie, turning her head slightly to look at you.

"He does deserve me, he's just struggling, I guess." You shrugged your shoulders, dwelling on the fact that you couldn't figure out what he was actually struggling with.

"Fuck your boyfriend. He's a bitch for the way he's acting with a pretty girl like you." Paige got passionate about defending her friends. Especially when someone in their life wasn't treating them right. She was more of a protector. A fierce one.

"Paige, that's a little mean."

"It's true. It's time you switched. I'm telling you, girls are so much less complicated. They're easier to read and better at communicating." Paige smirked to you, knowing you wouldn't shoot for it.

"Please, if I knew how, I would." You rolled your eyes, looking down, shoving a potato chip in your mouth.

Paige's eyes went wide. There's no way you were actually serious. You looked like the straightest of straight girls, a very attractive one. Which is why she thought it sucked you didn't swing that way. "No way, are you serious?" She laughed.

"Yeah, but I dont even think I like girls like that." You furrowed your brows. You never actually thought about it. You had no idea if the "girl crushes" you had were actually crushes.

"What does that mean?"

"Like, I've seen girls and thought they were super attractive. I'd wonder what it'd be like to kiss them, and I used to say i’d treat them better than their actual boyfriends, but I didn't think that far." That set it off for Paige. That's how it started. First you thought about what it'd be like to kiss a girl, then to date, and then to fuck.

"Have you ever thought about dating them?" Paige already knew where this was going.

"Yeah sort of. But I was always with him that it was whatever." You looked to Paige.

"Well it's time you switch." She smiled smugly at you, shrugging her shoulders. "I'm down to show you how." That was the most forward Paige had ever been with a girl. She knew it was swaying you, the contemplation clouding your vision, deep in thought.

"What do you mean 'show me'? Like how to fuck?" Your brows furrowed as you questioned the blonde beside you.

"That's exactly what I mean..." Paige's eyes watched yours, waiting for the green light.

"Okay." Suddenly the air in your lungs disappeared when Paige grabbed your face and kissed you deeply. She wanted this for so long. You and her had been bestfriends all throughout your childhood. She had even told Geno he couldn't give her an offer without giving you one. Your skills in basketball were exceptional, your work ethic and athleticism and ability to work with people around you. You and Paige made a great team.

She had admired everything about you for as long as she could remember. She was just waiting on you. You moaned into the kiss, opening your legs so she could slot her body between yours, achieving the best angle to kiss you.

Something in you felt like this was all muscle memory. Like you two have done this before. Her hands moved to your hips, her grip firm but so soft. You two kicking the snacks off the bed, not caring about the mess that was to be made.

"Imma take your clothes off...that okay?" Paige's lips trailed down the collumn of your neck, moaning at the sensation your body sparked throughout her body.

"Yeah, okay. Please." Instantaneously Paige's fingers dropped the the waistband of your pajama shorts, and the waistband of your underwear. The feeling of lace pulling a groan from the blondes throat. Ridding you of your pants and underwear, her hand grabbed the hem of your shirt—her shirt, sliding it up.

You sat up, pulling it off, panting softly. You couldn't believe this was happening. The least you expected from this sleepover was hooking up with your bestfriend, in her bed, on a friday night. You then grabbed Paige's face, needing her lips on yours like you were a woman starved.

Paige was a sweetheart; a golden retriever, kind, and good person...but when it came to her game, on and off the court, she was literally a cocky fuck boy who could prove they could get into your pants. She was a respectful woman, one of the best even, but the second mutual interest was involved; game over.

While making out, her hand cupping your breast over the padding of your bra, the only clothing you seemed to have on left, she bit your bottom lip, slightly tugging on it with her teeth. Your back arched, moaning at the sensation she was able to wash your body in, she quickly unclasped your bra, sliding the straps off when you were flat on your back.

Having the soft skin of yours exposed, she slowed her movements, dodging your face when you tried to kiss her again. "Show me how he got you off." The sentence shocked you.

"Huh?" You looked at her, her eyes having the same challenging look. She knew she'd do ten times better than he ever could. Plus, it helped that her anatomy and your anatomy were the same...meaning, she knew where everything was.

"You heard me, show me what he did for you, so I can show you that I can do it better." Her long hair falling on her shoulders, she slid her Huskies t-shirt off, leaving her in a black sports bra.

You shifted on the bed, nervous but willing. She already had you naked, you were already so wet so you knew when you try and fail to get yourself off like how your ex did, she'd make it better. Paige always made it better.

You reached your hand down, sliding your fingers through your soaking wet cunt, gathering as much as your slick as possible, gasping softly. The feeling of your fingers ghosting your clit, you remembered that you were supposed to be doing this how he did, so you disregarded the spot your body ached and pleaded for physical contact, and jumped straight to inserting two fingers.

You looked at Paige, a look in her eyes you've never seen before. "Wait, he didn't even—?" She was confused but really focused nonetheless. You knew she wasn't really paying attention to what you were doing, she was; she was literally getting soaked at watching you play with yourself, but she just couldn't take her eyes off your pretty pussy. She would never be your 'friend' again after tonight.

You shook your head at her question and continued in fingering your self, curling your fingers at the right spots, maintaining the even yet somewhat hasty pace. Your panting started to get louder, your eyes fluttering closed every now and again. Slowly coaxing yourself to your high, you spread your legs wider, reaching your hand out, signaling Paige you wanted her to grab your hand.

She placed her hand in yours and she was immediately pulled on top of you, your mouth finding hers. Your hand never wavered in the work you were doing on yourself, which is why Paige swallowed the loud moan induced by your orgasm, as you slowly started to slow the rhythm of your fingers, riding out the small orgasm.

You don't know why you did it, you only were conscious of it after you had placed the fingers that were previously inside of you, into her mouth. Your jaw slack, jus a tiny bit, watching and feeling her lick your fingers, swallowing any trace of your she can hope to find. You couldn’t believe you were behaving like this. So dirty but so willing.

Paige moaned at the action, not trying to deny that what you had done could've made her come alone. She started to drag her lips from yours, to the corner of your lips, to your cheek, all the way to and down your neck, sloppy and lazy but sensual kisses were left in her wake.

She wouldn't dare leave any marks behind, your guys' team would calculate what went down her tonight. So she settled for non-visible hickeys. When her lips met your breasts, she took her sweet time with both. Her tongue swirling around your taught nipple, her free hand kneeding the other.

Your back was already arching off the bed, hands tugging at the sheets below you. The soft cries leaving your lips egging her on.

She moved across the other breast, a trail of purple and red trailing the way, her hand switched places. You couldn't take this...you needed her somewhere else. You loved this but holy was she dragging it out.

Before you could even ask—beg, her to move where you were so desperately wanting her, her hand was already spreading your leg open, lips following a foreign, yet so familiar path, all the way down to the curve of your thighs.

She started slowly, opting to tease you, but also educate you like she promised. You understood the significance of foreplay, hell you craved it in your evidently clear soon to be previous relationship, but you couldn't take the ache your pussy had for Paige. It's like it knew you needed her all along. It didn't help that you hated the prolonged attention, but also loved it. Watching her worship your body was something so unexplainably attractive.

The way she slowly placed soft kisses from your knees, massaging the soft skin of your calf's along the way, all the way up your thigh. The closer her lips got to your center, the more antsy you became. You needed her mouth to connect already. You couldn't take it anymore.

"Oh, my god. Paige...please." You sighed, your panting growing more and more viscous.

"Please what, gorgeous?" Her lips ghosted over your wet folds as she moved to the other leg, now blatantly teasing the fuck out of you, while she smiled and kissed every expanse she could.

"Please just eat my pussy already. I can't take it." You almost cried begging her to finally do something. She had you masturbate infront of her for christ sake.

"Whatever you want." She looked into your eyes, her pupils blown, a blissed out smile and haze on her face. Almost immediately after, her face disappeared in between your legs. Paige licked a stripe up your soaking cunt, from the entrance all the way to the most sensitive nerve ending.

The sound that escaped your mouth was borderline pornographic as the built up arousal finally was being tended to. The feeling of her slick tongue running one more stripe through your folds before swirling around your clit was something you absolutely could not imagine. Your mind in a foggy mess.

"You taste so sweet, baby." The name leaving her mouth ignited fuzziness that you felt in your toes all the way to your scalp. Her voice hoarse, mouth glistening from you, you could never get this sight out of your head; nor did you want to.

"Ohhhh, my god." It came out like a pure cry. The choked moans mixed with tears and strained sobs, elicited a newfound hunger in Paige.

Her mouth doing double time, her tongue swirling and licking perfectly paced, her lips sucking and kissing all the right places at the right time, started to build up the coil in your belly. The feeling growing more and more intense the more she praised you from between your legs. "You're doing so good for me, baby." You couldn't even breathe.

The coil snapping, the tension in your belly now releasing, a gushing mess now painted Paige's gorgeous face, your mouth agape.

You couldn't help but scream...almost. Your moan so loud, Paige covered your mouth with her hand. "Shh, don't want the neighbors to hear." Paige panted softly in your ear, before cracking the signature smirk.

The smugness she had while she saw the aftermath of what seemed to be the best orgasm you have ever had in your life. Your breathing still shallow, your chest heaving, the pattern of the way it rises and falls mesmerizes Paige. Her ego being fed tremendously watching the way you fell apart just by her going down on you.

She couldn't help but want to brag to your ex that he couldn't even make you feel half of what she just did. The accomplishment of getting you to look like this in her bed, your breath fanning over her face as she hovered over you, the accomplishment in having you like this, with her in her bed, was truly a miracle.

Paige loved it. She could go this whole night just fulfilling your needs, showing you everything you missed out on in your pointless one sided relationship. She intended to.

"Oh, my god. That was—" You stopped, your breath finally returning. "That was fucking amazing." You looked at the blonde who seemed to be content watching you fall apart.

The smugness on her face but the adoration of you being here, pure evidence that she was enjoying every second of it. "It was. Didn't know you were a screamer." The cocky Paige returned, forgetting keeping the moment remotely intimate. You smacked her arm that rested next to your body, and grabbed her face and kissed her.

You caught her off guard, her mouth open due to a small gasp, and took that as your chance to slide your tongue in her mouth. You two made out like horny teenagers. You two weren't that far from being teenagers, that was only a couple years ago, but you two made eachother feel like two young kids, absolutely enamored with the idea of each other that you couldn't get off of eachother.

You two made out, you slowly turning yourself so you could be on top. Paige knew what you were trying to do, allowing you to take control for now. You oulled apart, looking down at her, picturing this, saving it for the foreseeable future. Chasing your lips, Paige grabbed your face, pulling you into a deepening kiss. You two literally couldn't get enough of eachother.

Before you could even get the rest of Paige's clothes off, she grabbed your hips that were resting on hers, and pulled them forcefully over towards her chest. You gasped and yelped, suprised at the sudden force she was using. Hesitant to follow, you saw her hungry gaze go between your eyes and your now—again, soaking cunt.

There was no way. "Paige, no. Don't even think about it." You warned, a small intimidating look. It normally had an affect on Paige on the court, knowing when she saw it, you talked a big game and backed it up. But right now, in the bedroom, you were hers and she had the control.

Tonight was to show you what you were missing out on, and how to get a girl going. There was no way she'd let you have the control, no matter how much she wanted it. She'd save that for another night. Maybe she was getting too ahead of herself, but there was going to be another night with you.

"What are you talking about?" The smugness returned, along with a feigned clueless look. You couldn't take her serious with the fact that your thighs were damn near putting her in a chokehold, her hands inching you closer and closer to where she wanted you...where she wanted you to sit, preferably.

"Paige, i'm not about to sit on your face." You tried scooting back, forgetting that Paige was actually stronger than you. The ferocity in which she pulled your hips, your pussy ghosting her lips at the force and aim in which she yanked you, a small gasp escaped your sealed lips.

You yanked your hips back, giving her a pointed look. "I was trying to literally fuck you, not trying to sit on your face. Let me make you feel good, baby." Paige knew she could get away with calling you baby, you probably weren't thinking much of it when she said it. But Paige said it with conviction, just the way you did right now.

The name only egged her on when you used it in this context. The only context Paige wanted to hear it in. "Your making me feel good by letting me make you feel good. I promise i'm fine, I just want you to sit this pretty pussy on my face. Will you let me?" Her eyes sincere, the smirk playing on her lips slowly convincing you by the second.

"You promise?" You whispered, suddenly conforming to the blonde underneath you. Something about the way she talked easily convinced you.

"Yeah. Promise." You stared down at her, unsure. Not wanting to crush her, your thighs being pretty full, the muscle you've built over the years, and just the general size being something you've been insecure about since you were a little girl.  She knew that.

That's why when she saw the look on your face, she kissed your thighs. In whatever spot she could reach. She gave you a reassuring nod, smile on her face. Albeit you didn't know what kind—cocky or comforting. Either way, when she said what she did, you immediately obeyed.

"Sit on my face." You then moved both knees eye level with Paige, falling back slightly, your pussy ghosting her lips again. The second you put your full weight on her face, her mouth got to work.

The sensation and new angle elicited some explicit sounds. 'Didn't know you were a screamer' kept replaying in your head when you tried to quiet down the moans only Piage seemed to be able to pull from you, escaped your lips.

Her hands cupped your ass, pressing your body down impossibly closer and harder into her face. She seemed to be pushing so hard, you were scared you were going to suffocate her. Her tongue teased your entrance, swiftly ghosting in and out of it, before lapping at your folds and clit perfectly.

She ate you like a woman starved. Like if this was her last meal. You had enjoyed every second of this exchange. You reached your hand down slowly, softly moving your hand in slow circles on your clit, overstimulating yourself.

Paige took notice of your fingers now getting to work, a gravely groan reverberating into your wet pussy as she looked up at you, and quickly closing her eyes in bliss. She decided that since you wanted to touch yourself, she'd slide a finger or two into you. To really get you going. Wasn’t the most ideal positioning but she was going to make it work.

Her head bobbed subtly, effectively getting her tongue into the small space where her fingers were about to make an appearance. Inserting one finger, Paige watched, felt, and listened to the way your body reacted to her movements.

Using each reaction to her advantage. The small gasp you let out when she inserted herself into you, the way your breathing reluctantly changed pace, so she inserted another, noticing how your breath picked up. That's when she curled her fingers methodically to the pace she set for herself, matching the pace you set while you continued rubbing circles in your clit.

It didn't take long for Paige to brung you closer to the edge while her tongue picked up the slack for your fingers. You stopped your movements and let her do the work, she could tell it was good by the volume your pants and moans were sounding. She was working overtime while you ran your hand over her hair, eventually looking for another anchor to grip to while you violently come undone by your best friend. "Oh, my god. Right there. Don't stop." You panted, your jaw dropped.

Your legs started to shake, Paige's pace relentless while she finger fucked you in her bed, while she simultaneously ate you out. This wasn't the way you expected to spend your night, and neither did Paige, but holy fuck was it worth it.

"Don't you dare stop—Oh!" The coil snapped once again, a guttural cry and moan left your lips. You swore that any person who was passing by Paige's apartment would've thought you were filming porn. The moans you moaned were insane and absolutely the biggest turn on for Paige. She wouldn't lie and say she didn't already get off on just hearing you.

Yeah, she worked at you, and saw your oh so pretty parts, but listening to the affect she had on you, the comparison made between her and your ex and the ego boost that came with it, were just the perfect amount to get her off on just pleasuring you for the last two hours.

Your breath uneven, slowly moving your legs away from her face, your chest still heaving. She chuckled softly, before looking over to you, while you laid yourself next to her. "That's how it's done, baby." Paige held her hand up, trying to signal a high five.

You looked at her blankly, her seeing the absolute fucked our face you had, and then pulled you closer to her. Your body resting against hers; the stark contrast of your overheated body, compared to her cold and cool body.

The contrast easing the overwhelmed feeling you harbored just a little easier. "You did so good for me, baby. You looked so hot while I made you come. Couldn't believe it." You smacked her chest, feeling a little cringed that she had to see you and all the faces you could've made while you had the most earth shattering orgasms.

"Paige. Oh my god, stop." You laughed, she did too, You two laid there for a minute before she broke the silence.

"You're not going back to him, right?" Her voice now withdrawn from the cockiness and confident undertones, and just pure nerves and concern. She hoped you'd say no. That you'd choose to stay with her, and tell her he was just there until you realized your feelings for her were the same as the ones she's had for you all these years.

"No, I'm breaking up with him tomorrow. You think i'd go back to him, when he couldn't do half the shit you did with your tongue alone? Yeah, right." You looked up at Paige, your bestfriend. You couldn't believe this is what your relationship evolved to in a matter of two hours.

"Soo, that means..." Paige was hopeful. She just wanted you to say what she's been wanting to say for years.

"Let's date. I love you, you obviously love me," She looked away, embarrassed, and playfully pushed you away. You grabbed her arm, pulling her back so she could look you in the eyes. "Do you want to be my girlfriend? Serious."

"Serious. I'll be your girlfriend. Finally." Paige kissed you, slowly. Melting into eachother, the weight of the new relationship status now sinking in. You two were ecstatic.

You decided to clean up, showering, again, her inevitably joining you. When you both settled and were ready for bed. Too tired and fucked out to continue the movie—restart the movie—you two had started a while ago, it was quiet and dark in the room when Paige suddenly whispered, "I knew you weren't straight."

"Paige, got to sleep! Oh my god." You chuckled before smacking her with the pillow under your head.

"Jeez! Sorry! But I called it."

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

...ready for it? - j.l. howlett

a/n: hi! here's a full version of a blurb i wrote a few days ago that got so much love so quick that i wanted to give yall a full version! the beginning is literally just the blurb but after that it's all new! like many of you wolverine brainrot has hit me hard, so here's graphic smut about him. leave a comment or a reblog if you enjoyed :) warnings: SMUT!!!!! some dumbification, use of pet names, reader is fem, reader is a mutant and able to control plants, lots of cursing, lots of grotesque fliritng/fantasies, some soft moments, some sort of primal sex, oral (fem receiving), some of the setting is probs inaccurate but whatever. let me know if i missed any big ones!! word count: 4.9 k summary: well, you had to find some way of entertaining yourself at charles xavier's school for gifted youngsters. and you have always liked an emotionally unavailable, absolutely hung, challenge. pairing: logan howlett x mutant!reader now playing: ...ready for it? - taylor swift "in the middle of the night, in my dreams/you should see the things we do, baby/in the middle of the night in my dreams/i know i'm gonna be with you, so i take my time"

You are absolutely enthralled with him. It’s actually sort of pathetic how your fingers twitch at the sight of him, at how the mention of his name or god forbid the sound of his voice makes your head snap up, attention deficit disorders be damned!

Funnily enough, you had no damn interest in Xavier’s stupid mutant school, because to you, you’re not an outsider because of your mutant abilities (that don’t have much of a physical apparition, at least one that you can’t hide) but because there’s never been much of a place for you to fit in.

But, you were behind on rent and of course, you fucking hate your job, so why not? You’d be able to be slightly less of a freak, and you’d get free room and board in the process! (Where Charles gets all of his money, you do not know.)

And because you’re a little older, Charles doesn’t force you to sit in a class room to learn about basic arithmetic and grammar lessons, so you really only do some training around three times a day, you have your own room (with a dusty box under the other bed, you also suspect your room used to be the ‘sex’ room) and you have the weekends off.

So for a twenty something year old with few ambitions, the social skills of a Martian with autism, and a huge crush on every older emotionally unavailable man you meet, it’s a pretty good set-up.

You’re waiting for time to pass in the garden, just reading a rather interesting book that Charles had recommended after he noticed you needed something to pass time before you started making bad decisions.

You hear his heavy footsteps on the gravel before you see him. Your heart beats faster, but you will yourself, do everything in your power not to glance up at him. And you let out a breath as you succeed, keeping your head down.

“In your natural habitat, are you, spitfire?” Your head darts up to him—There’s no way he isn’t talking to you, you know you’re the only one in this garden. And you can see his lips twitch up and you want to crawl out of your skin!

“My-My natural habitat?” You laugh, closing the book you’re reading because your attention is locked to him now.

“Yeah, seems like it.” He saunters on up to you and sits on the bench next to you.

And let’s make something very clear—

Logan Howlett does not sit.

This man poses, as if there’s always some invisible camera capturing every frame of movement, from the way his legs spread out, to the way his chest lifts when he inhales.

Fuck, you think you might die if you can’t suck him off right now.

“And what exactly is my uh.. habitat?” You question.

He takes out his lighter and a cigar, placing the cigar in his mouth as he gestures to the space around the two of you, lighter in hand.

“A garden.” He says, matter of facility, as his voice is muffled only the slightest bit by the cigar.

And you just sort of look at him before asking,

“Oh, you enjoy being boiled down to your mutations, Claws?” You question, and as he goes to light the cigar, he smirks.

“Alright, you gotta admit though, it is cliché!”

You are absolutely in agreement, there is zero doubt you are as much of a walking, breathing, real life living, stereotype.

“It is not!” And the pair of you give each other this look, like you’re both shocked at how whiney that statement is!

“Uh-huh, sure, Spitfire.” It sounds almost like he’s purring at you.

When he lights his cigar, he’s sort of eying you for your reaction, whatever you might say.

“You know, smoking is not only bad for you, it’s awful for the environment.”

“You’re probably the most cliché little freak around here.” Which.. honestly..? Shouldn’t possibly turn you on as much as it does.

You just stare at him for a minute, and he smirks.

“Cat got your tongue?’

And maybe it’s stupid and maybe it’s immature but your hand just comes over to fiddle with the pointed part of his hair.

“We’ll you certainly look the part.” He just looks at you, and honestly? The way he’s looking at you, it’s like he’s proud of you for teasing him.

“Aw, there’s my little spitfire,” He teases, just to see how red you get. And red you are— it’s embarrassing. And here’s the kicker—You are young. Exceptionally young, and what’s insane about that? How horny it makes both you and Logan.

The idea of fucking your innocent cunt, tight and all his, drives him genuinely mad. And you are, quite literally, a whore for the idea of riding this older man’s dick. You know he’s big—sometimes you see the outerline of it when he walks away from you all huffy and puffy.

“You’re a tease, Claws.” You respond, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Says you,” he raises and eyebrow, leaning closer to you now, “You’re the one laying around in the sun, looking like that.”

“Looking like this?” You scoff. You’re wearing a muscle tee and a pair of ripped jeans, but the gaps are huge and he can see your thighs. He wants to devour you, and you would let him if he only asked.

And let’s be clear—he is fucking you with his eyes. There’s no way to go around it.

“I think you’re just.. horny.” You tease, and he just growls. Seriously, this man who is undressing you with his eyes, growls, because he does want you and he is horny!

“I think you’re onto something.” He purrs, and you want to just.. god. You don’t know how to express the pit of desire that grows in you. “I would fuck you until you couldn’t think, right here among your pretty flowers. Would you like that, baby?” he asks, his hand finding your thigh.

But you just cough on the smoke from his cigar, before frowning.

“You really shouldn’t smoke.”

“Aw, I’ll make it up to you.” He smirked. “Promise, spitfire.”

He’s very close to you now, so you take a second to just breath and you know that he knows that he’s got you—hook, line, and sweet, sweet sinker.

And then you realize what exactly it is that you’ve gotten yourself into. And what a nightmare it is—Or maybe a dream if you listen to the pathetic part of your brain, but you are into this an in a way that is concerning for your own mental wellbeing and desperately want to avoid him having all the power in this situation.

“Oh, I am sure you will.” You assure. You lean forward, plucking the cigar from his lips, and placing it on the ground, squashing it beneath your heel. With a flick of your wrist, vines and grass grow over the cigar, composting it. And from the vines, grows a small little buttercup flower.

You lean down and pluck the flower from the grass, before tucking it behind Logan’s ear.

“You should take care of that hard-on you have, Claws.” You hum, before standing up, and walking away. And for a minute, he just watches you go—partly to because you have an amazing ass, but partly because you have absolutely flabbergasted him.

And have made him want you even more.

• • •

The next time you see him is the next night, in the woods near the mansion. Because the literal sixteen year olds you go to ‘school’ with do not know how to do anything on the weekend except drink, fuck, and smoke.

Honestly, you kind of fit in great.

So here you are, nursing a mason jar of.. some fucked up concoction, and you’re not too sure what’s in it, but you have drunk two of them and are on your third. You think you might live forever, until you glance up and see Logan, in these fuck me jeans and this burnt orange flannel and a wife beater.

Instantly, you know that you’ll die tonight if you don’t have him.

He approaches you with this cocky smirk as if he hasn’t realized your intoxicated state yet.

“Now what’s a little spitfire like you doing all alone on a Friday night?” he questions, tilting his head. His smirk is deadly. And you roll your eyes.

“Here comes the big bad Wolverine, all bark and no bite.” You scoff, and his eyes flash with surprise. Only for a second, but even drunk, you notice the way his eyes shoot up in surprise.

“All bark and no bite? That’s quite the accusation.” He hums.

“Well, we’ve been.. eye fucking each other for a few weeks now, and you haven’t even kissed me yet. I get being into foreplay and edging, but holy shit, Claws, throw a girl a bone once in a while.” You scoff, and for a moment, he just looks at you.

“Are you.. drunk?”

“Do you think I’m drunk?”

“Yeah, you’re drunk.” He sighs. You respond by taking another sip of your drink, but before the bitter liquor hits your tongue, he snatches the bottle from you.

“Let me take you home.” You’re sure your eyes look like hearts, so, dreamily and a little love struck, you respond,

“’Kay.”

And he chuckles a little bit at that.

“We’re not gonna do anything, I’m just gonna walk you home, spitfire.” He starts, and your face falls a little bit, but in an effort to hide it, you respond,

“..’kay.” And he sees right through you. You’re pretty much an open book. And the alcohol doesn’t help. His pointer finger and thumb comes to your chin, and he gently rubs his thumb against your lip.

“Don’t be like that, pup. It’ll happen soon. Just not tonight, okay?” He assures.

“’Kay.” You answer softly, and you think he smiles at you but your vision is sort of blurry. Then, you blink, as a gust of wind moves through the trees, sending a shiver down your spine. He sighs, and wordlessly takes off his flannel, before wrapping it around you. Your arms slip into the sleeves, and you almost cry because it’s like, the best hug in the entire world. “Won’t.. you be cold, then?” you question, and he just shakes his head.

“Let’s get you home, spitfire.” He holds a handout to you, and without a second thought, you take his hand. He wraps his arm around you, and you lean against him like it’s something the two of you do often. If you were sober, you might short circuit. But, you’re not, so it feels right.

The walk home is quiet, but Logan’s thumb gently rubs against your shoulder. He wants to do more, but he knows he shouldn’t, since you are in fact plastered.

You ignore the giggles and whispers from teenagers making their way past you to the party or to their rooms, and you even ignore the way their giggles stop when they meet Logan’s gaze.

When you get back to your room, you take a second to lean against the door, and he takes a second to admire the way you look in his clothes.

“Ready for bed?” he asks gently, and you just smile at him.

“You’re really pretty.” He just does the half scoff-half chuckle that you’re obsessed with. Then, he wraps his arm around you again, opening the door to your room, and guiding you inside. He gets you to your bed and sits you down, before kneeling in front of you to untie your boots. “Has anyone ever told you how good you look on your knees?” you ask.

He just gives you this smirk.

“One or two pretty girls back in the day.” He says, “None as pretty as you though, spitfire.” He says, and you groan, leaning back and laying on the bed, as he pulls off your boots.

“You’re awful.” And you need him.

“Yes, I know, baby.” His voice is almost condescending, and it turns you on. But then he stands up, grabbing the folded blanket from the edge of your bed, and laying it over you. He finds his place kneeling next to you again as you stare at him, cozy in bed. His hands gently brush hair from your face. “Do you need anything else?”

“You.”

“Soon. But not yet, pup. You’re too drunk.” He says softly.

“Thanks for walking me home, Claws.”

“You’re very welcome, Spitfire.” He purrs, leaning forward and kissing your forehead gently. “I’ll see you in the morning. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Logan.” You mumble as you drift off to sleep. He sits there for a few minutes, just looking at you for a long time before he gets up and creeps out of your room.

• • •

The next morning, you sit in the cafeteria, drinking a large coffee, and nursing the worst hangover, possibly of your life. Made even worse by the fractions of memories about what happened last night.

You rub your eyes, flinching when you hear the clatter of a plate on the table, and someone sitting across from you. You peek through the gaps of your fingers to see Logan sitting across from you, a smirk on his face.

He opens his mouth to say something but you beat him to it.

“I hate you. Shut up.”

“I didn’t even say anything!” he laughs. But he sees how much pain you’re in, and slides two pieces of sourdough toast to you. “Truce?”

“Truce.” You agree, taking a slice and biting into it. You feel better.

And after a moment of silence, he asks,

“I’m never getting my flannel back, am I?”

Truthfully, the flannel has been folded neatly and tucked into your drawer, for the next time you need some comfort.

You tilt your head, looking right into his eyes.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

• • •

Weeks go by like this.

You spend your days either going to class or hanging out—okay, it’s more like flirting with a side of hanging out, with Logan. The pair of you become quite close, and maybe that’s why you haven’t fucked yet.

Oh, the two of you want to, and it’s obvious to everyone (Charles has called you out for being distracted more times than you can count, and you remind him not to probe your mind, and he tells you he does not need his mutant abilities to see that your thoughts linger elsewhere.) but you’re.. afraid, at this point.

Which is odd, because you’re no virgin, you know he wants you, but.. what if everything changes after that? Maybe he’ll start to avoid you. Maybe you’ll start to avoid him. And you’ve really become good friends, and don’t want to lose it.

And then, there’s the fact that half the time, he’s away on dangerous missions, and even if he can regenerate, you worry about him. But he hasn’t been on any lately, so it’s like waiting for the other shoe to drop.

You’re sitting in the garden when it happens.

He finds you, and this time, you do not even try to hide the way your head picks up and gazes at him.

“Hi, Spitfire.” He grins, and you smile a bit at him.

“Claws, what can I do for you?” And he sits next to you, and for some reason, maybe because he doesn’t say anything at first, you know that there is something wrong. And you know what it is.

After a few minutes, you glance to him.

“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” Your voice is quiet, as if you’re scared that if it gets any louder, everything will fall apart.

“Yeah. Charles has me going on another mission.” He doesn’t say it, but you both know this isn’t an involuntary thing.

“Cool.” You cringe at your reaction.

“I guess.” He laughs weakly, as if he knows he’s twisting a knife buried within you.

Silence fills the air. It’s not necessarily uncomfortable, but it isn’t the relaxed silence you’re used to with him. Confessions dance on the tips of your tongues, and you’re so close to saying it, that when you turn to each other suddenly, you just need to look at each other for a second.

“Be safe.” You say quietly. “And hurry back.” You request, and you try not to sound like you’re begging.

“Of course.” He says, like it perplexes him that you even have to request. “I can’t leave you here yearning for me forever, can I?” He teases, and for a moment, you have this flash of an alternate universe where he does die on this mission and you are trapped in this garden forever, waiting for him. Like a lost puppy, or worse, a lost lover. The mere thought of it fucks with your head.

“No. You can’t. I won’t allow it.” You explain, “If anything, I’m the one that should be haunting you.” He just smiles. A real, not at all awkward smile.

“I’m sure you will, spitfire.” He says, and his head comes forward so that his forehead is resting against yours.

“When do you leave?” You ask gently, and he sighs. His breath smells of mint and cigar smoke, maybe even a hint of lemon.

“An hour. I have to pack quick and then debrief.” He answers you.

And just as love struck as you were the night of the party, you answer,

“’Kay.” You smile weakly at him. And he just.. looks at you for a few minutes before sighing again. He pulls away and leans up to kiss your forehead again, before standing up. He turns a few steps away from you just to tease you.

“Don’t miss me too much, okay?” he requests softly. Before you can stop yourself, you stand up, and wrap your arms around him. He only pauses for a half a second before he returns your embrace, and it becomes apparent that you both needed this moment. You stay like this for a few minutes before you pull away.

“Bring me back a souvenir.” You try, a soft smile on your face.

“Yeah, don’t worry. I’ll bring you something great from the great city of Tulsa, Ohklahoma.” He grins.

“Deal.”

“Deal.”

• • •

For the next week, you feel like this must be what it was like for housewives when their husbands went to war. You knew all too well that that statement was extremely dramatic, but you simply cannot help yourself.

You think you might die by day three.

It’s like you’re going through withdrawals and it’s making you go genuinely insane.

You have worn this man’s flannel for almost the entire week, because at first you’re a little self-conscious of other people noticing your repeating outfits, but only at first. By day four, you have decided you don’t give a single fuck.

Day eight you’re just laying in bed, quietly making a list of all the positions you want him to take you in. It’s a long list. You’re brought back to reality by a knock on your door. You’re about to snap, knowing that you’ll tell whatever child has been sent to bother you to scram, but when you open the door, you grin widely.

Logan stands there, looking tired, but he’s smiling and holding up a shot glass that reads ‘Tusla’, and has skyline on it.

“Didn’t I tell you I’d get you a souvenir?” He asks, and you can’t help but wrap your arms around him, pulling him in. He hugs you back, making sure to squeeze you just a bit—your feet barely come off the ground.

He pulls away, and you grin up to him.

“You came back.” You say it as if you can barely believe it, and just for a moment, he feels an emotion he can’t quite place, but he ignores it.

“Of course I came back, spitfire. All in one piece too, as requested.” He grins, and you’re just.. amazed at the look of him. “What’s that look for?” He asks gently, tilting his head.

“I just..” you start.

And then you break.

You lean up and kiss him gently, those stupidly delicious sideburns making your stomach flip. He doesn’t waste time, kissing you back, his arms around your waist. After a minute, you pull away.

“Sorry. I’m kind of done playing that game of waiting for you to kiss me. I just got the first hit of you I’ve had all week, and I feel fucking amazing.” You confess, and sure, it’s not a big grand love confession with tears and poetry, but your words make him kiss you so intensely that you start backing into your room, his hands exploring your body as you tug off his leather jacket, a new flannel for you to steal coming off soon after.

He keeps kissing you as his hands come down to your jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping them, before gently pushing you to sit on the bed. He kneels in front of you, and begins to tug off your boots again, then, on your jeans.

You grin.

“You know, I’m getting the oddest sense of déjà vu. Something about you looking great on your knees.” You tease, and he just tugs off your jeans in one strong swoop, before leaning in to bite your thigh. You gasp, your hands coming up to tug his hair.

Then, he begins to tug at your panties, and you tilt his head up, glancing at him.

“What are you doing?”

“Well, before I was interrupted, I was about to eat you out.”

“Wait, really?”

He blinks, confused.

“Yeah. Is that a, uh.. problem..?” He hasn’t gotten any complaints yet.

“I just.. I didn’t think guys actually did that, I thought it was just.. a porno thing.” And at this, the man who is about to burry his face between your thighs, laughs. And not just a chuckle, this man hollars. “What’s so funny, claws?” You ask, a little suspicious.

“Nothing,” he promises, “I am just going to take such good care of you, pup.”

“I’m holding you to that, claws.” And then, he leans in and begins to kiss your thighs, gently biting down here and there. Then, he licks a stripe along your cunt, and you let out this loud moan, and your hand comes up to clamp over your mouth, but he reaches up to grab your hand, lacing his fingers with yours.

He pulls away to lecture you. Lecture you. On his knees. Head between your thighs.

“Nuh-uh, I wanna hear all the pretty noises you can make for me.” Then, softer, he adds, “Never been eaten out before, fuckin’ travesty.” He mumbles, before leaning in to lick your cunt again, beginning to lap his tongue over your throbbing heat.

His nose rubs against your clit, and it’s enough to drive you genuinely crazy. You’re unsure how you’ve gotten to this point in your life without having your pussy worshipped like this, but with him around, you’re pretty sure you’ll never go another day without it.

His tongue continues to work magic on your cunt, as his nose presses against your clit, stimulating you to the point of making you see stars.

Your hands tug at his hair, and the moan that it elicits from him is enough to send vibrations through your cunt through your stomach. Your head leans back as you moan, and for a moment, you hope there is no mutant in this mansion with super hearing.

His free hand grips your thigh as he bends your leg back to get better access, as he continues to eat you out. The mere taste of you is enough to drive him crazy—He almost wants to start thrusting into the side of your bed, he’s so hard, but he ignores that urge to continue to eat you out.

“Mm—Lo, I—I’m gonna—”

He just hums into your cunt, giving your thigh a gentle squeeze of approval, before his tongue moves even faster (if that’s even possible, though, he is an amazingly surprising man), and suddenly—

You feel a release you have been waiting for weeks, and it is fucking phenomenal. And the Wolverine just licks up all your cum, even if it makes your thighs shake, but honestly, he doesn’t care and neither do you. For a moment, you just listen to the sound of your own pants.

After a minute, you are able to look at him, and he just looks up to you with the same smirk that has been torturing you for all of those weeks. And you just have to pull him up to kiss you, like it’s the only way you’ll be able to live.

As you kiss him, you pull off his wifebeater and then your hands rest on the sides of his face as he pulls off your shirt as well, before his hands begin to make quick work of his belt, wanting to skip all of the pleasantries and just fuck you.

But when he finally gets his jeans off, you pull away, and he stares at you like you’re crazy.

“What the fuck could possibly be more important than me fucking you stupid?”

“Will you just.. let me look at you?” You scoff, your eyes flickering over him to just memorize every square inch of his body. He humors you for a few minutes, standing there with his hands on hips before he leans in and cages you in with his arms.

“Show’s over, spitfire.” He purrs, leaning in to kiss you, slowly making his way closer to you so that you’re laying back on your bed. At some point during the kiss, his boxers come off, and when you feel his cock against your cunt, you moan into the kiss, and you can feel his smirk against your lips.

Oh, you could kill him. But, you suspect maybe he’ll get to you first.

After he kisses you for a few minutes, he pulls away to tell—not ask, tell you, “I’m going to fuck you now.” And you know your line.

“’Kay.” He grins at this and kisses you again, before lining himself up and starting slowly. He just has the tip inside of you, and you begin to moan, your grip on his shoulders tightening. You already feel entirely too full, and he slowly agonizingly slowly pushes into you, and he sees how his size makes your face twitch,

“Shh, shh, I know, pup. Deep breathes for me, bub,” he says softly, such a stark contract to his rough movements, as he bottoms out and has his entire cock inside of you. And he gives you a second, watching as your face relaces, adjusting to the size of him. “Okay?” He asks, and you nod.

“’Kay,” You assure, and he kisses your forehead.

“’Kay.” He responds, and before you can tease him for it, he begins to thrust into you, slowly as first, but he continues to quicken his pace. Your nails begin to scratch on his back, and he lets out this angelic moan—You must’ve died and went to heaven.

As his thrusts quicken, the lines quickly blur between quick ruts and an animalistic need, manifesting itself in the way he fucks you. You know you won’t last long, especially when his fingers find your clit and begin to rub it again.

“Fuck! Oh my god—”

“I know, baby, I know,” he coos, his free hand coming to your thigh to lift your leg up, only for better access to your throbbing cunt, “God, I love the feeling of you around me.. Worth the wait, I promise.” He grumbles, as he thrusts into you, his only goal to make you cum.

You want to respond to that—To tease him, to make him feel as shy as you do, but he has completed his goal of fucking you stupid.

All you can do is respond, “Fuck—I’m gonna—”

“I know, baby, go ahead, cum for me,” he requests softly, leaning in to press a rather jarringly sweet kiss to your lips.

As you cum around his cock, he shudders, the look of you, laying there fucked dumb, is almost too much for him to bear.

“I’m gonna fill you up, pup,” he tells you, and all you can do is moan in response, which makes him come that much closer to the edge. After a few more thrusts, with a euphoric moan that will haunt you forever, his hot cum fills you up, leaving the pair of you clawing at each other, wanting more.

When you’re both finally finished riding out your high, Logan lays next to you, keeping you close. His grip on you is tight—possessive. When you finally find your voice, you ask,

“You’re not gonna turn me into a booty call, are you, claws?”

And he laughs.

“No,” he says, pressing a kiss to your head. “You’re gonna be my best girl, Spitfire.”

“Does this mean I get to steal another of your flannels?”

“I’ll give you my whole fucking wardrobe to see how many times I can make you cum.”

[txt-trash]

feelings for you | choi soobin

summary: after catching his roommate and his girlfriend making out, Choi Soobin’s life has been in an awkward standstill where he can’t decide if he should still be upset or move on. never one for confrontation, he still works with his ex girlfriend whose suddenly interested in him again all because he’s shown interest in another girl—his new roommate.

➣genre/au: roommate!soobin x roommate!y/n [she/her. female anatomy]

➣19.3k words

warnings: smut. kinda fluff. soobin is a barista. college grads. oc is soobin’s new roommate. one instant of fake dating. soobin is a whiny drunk. soobin’s cheating ex tries to get him back. soobin and oc friends. cute soobin but he’s a switch. dom soobin in the bedroom. soobin doesn’t like confrontation until the end. oral sèx [f receiving, in the kitchen 🤭] protected sèx. missionary. riding. soobin is subby post-sex. he has an unexplored boob kink. big soobin. jealous soobin but only slightly

When it comes to drama, you want no part of it. You keep your circle small and try not to involve yourself with things that don’t concern you but it’s been hard now that you’ve moved in with your new roommate. Originally, you thought it would be less drama to have a guy you didn’t know as a roommate, aside from the obvious worries Soobin had seemed perfect.

He was quiet and a bit shy but he seemed to have good intentions. You’ve heard him through the thin walls and he laughs when he watches something funny or talks on the phone but he’s not obnoxiously loud. He cleans up after himself and gives you your space so this first week has been good.

You’ve recently started rooming together when you answered his ad in search of a roommate and you’re starting to understand why he was looking for one in the first place.

“So she just dumped you?” You asked, unable to help yourself from being nosy. This is the first time since your first meeting that you’re sharing a conversation with him and it’s about his past relationship—evidently to thank for giving you a room for cheap.

“Basically,” Soobin said with a shrug as he stared at the television where his Nintendo Switch was connected. He was currently playing some Jujutsu Kaisen game that managed to grab your attention when you had come out of your cave for a bowl of cereal.

“That’s crazy,” you mumbled to yourself, turning away from him to wash your dishes in the sink.

Apparently, his last roommate moved out very suddenly considering he slept with Soobin’s girlfriend and things just didn’t work out.

“It’s whatever,” Soobin said, so hyper focused on his game, and saying whatever was on his mind with no attention at all, “Just sucks because I still have to work with her.”

“Wait!” You dropped what you were doing, rushing over to where he was and standing in front of the tv, “So you’re saying you still have to see your cheating ex girlfriend who slept with your roommate at work?”

“Yeah,” Soobin said, making you shake your head in disbelief. Still thinking about his sheer bad luck, you finally left him to his game and retreated to your bedroom to wallow in self pity like usual.

It was all too much to talk about for Soobin. His relationship only lasted about six months but he still can’t believe she slept with his roommate. He thought they all had become good friends but to find out she’s secretly going to his roommate’s bedroom while he’s at work. She would come over and stay while he would leave to work and while he thought she was waiting for him to get home, she’s letting his roommate stick it to her! The audacity, honestly, to do that in his home is ridiculous but thankfully his name was the one on the lease and he got to kick the guy out.

At first it was strange to have a girl move in with him considering he’s only ever roomed with guys and he was supposed to be in his ‘I Hate Woman’ era but you’ve turned out to be better than he expected. Of course it’s only been a few days but you both seem to be hyper aware of the fact that this is something new for the both of you. At least he won’t have to worry about you sleeping with his next girlfriend… or does he?

For another hour or so, Soobin played his game, completely engrossed that not even the pounding on the door for two solid minutes broke him from his trance. It wasn’t until you stormed out of your bedroom once again and headed right to the front door did he realize the person at the door was here for him.

You looked at the guy in front of you, a bit stunned to speak at how attractive he was and for a moment the two of you just stood there looking stupefied. The guy took a step back into the hallway and read the number on the wall which was sure enough his best friend’s apartment.

“What are you doing here?” Soobin asked, suddenly appearing behind you with a hand on the door above your head. Once you acknowledged that this stranger was here for your roommate you quietly made your leave, unaware of the new pair of eyes trailing after you.

“There you go, I didn’t know you had it in you to bounce back so fast,” Yeonjun said, looking to your closed door, “And with a baddie at that!”

“What are you talking about? She’s my new roommate,” Soobin said letting his best friend follow him to his bedroom so the two of them wouldn’t be in the living room and possibly make you uncomfortable. “And what are you doing here?”

“I came to cheer you up, I know its been a rough two weeks and I didn’t want you to think I left you at your lowest,” Yeonjun said, flopping himself down on the beanbag in the corner of Soobin’s room. He reached into his backpack and pulled out a couple bottles of Soju. Soobin released a sigh as he checked the time and read how late it was, “First of all it’s a weekday, second I’m not at my lowest.”

“Right… that’s the Denial stage of grief, don’t worry friend, you don’t have to lie to me, I know you,” Yeonjun said as he got up once again and went to the door, “Remember when you lost Odi? You cried for three weeks straight—“

“That is different! Odi was the real love of my life so don’t compare this to the heartbreak I felt for my beloved child!” Soobin yelled but Yeonjun just brushed him off to leave the kitchen and find glasses—and also hopefully run into you again.

Once he was back in the room, Soobin was sniffing Odi’s old blanket for comfort.

“So are you saying your roommate is up for grabs because she really is hot,” Yeonjun asked, beginning to pour two shot glasses with peach flavored Soju. Soobin shrugged his shoulders, “I don’t know and considering what happened with my last roommate, I’m not really into inner circle mixing with my friends and roommate.”

“Fair enough.”

Fresh out of school, you’ve been lucky enough to find a small job at the lowest ranking possible while still being in the world of fashion. There certainly are better things you could be doing besides running errands for your boss but as a new college grad with no experience, its not like you could expect more in the fashion world. It honestly wasn’t too bad and your boss wasn’t one of those horrendous bosses that paged their employee at all hours of the day and the pay was good enough to keep a roof over your head so there wasn’t much to complain about.

You surprisingly do have quite a bit of freedom and don’t always feel tied to your work so you’re thankful that you have time to visit your friends. Now that none of you are in school its become harder to fit time to see each other in your schedules but today you got lucky to finish a shoot early and you were able to get off sooner than usual.

Seeing Soobin’s friend the other night worked as a reminder to tell you you’re not a loser and actually have friends to visit too and that’s how you found yourself sitting next to your friend while he played Overwatch at a public game room.

Your computer screen had gone back to sleep mode after you got tired of making random SIMs characters and resorted to spinning in the rolling chair next to him. It was alright for a while but when it had been almost a full hour of this, you couldn’t take it anymore, “When you asked to hang out, I thought we would actually be doing something fun.”

“This is fun, what are you talking about?” Beomgyu asked, eyes locked on the screen making you roll your eyes. You’ve been friends since your freshman year of college so his need to pay more attention to his games than you isn’t a surprise but it is annoying—even though your roommate was kind of the same.

When you didn’t say anything, Beomgyu tried harder, “So hows the new living situation?”

“It’s alright, he seems cool and it’s cheap,” You told him, still spinning absentmindedly.

Beomgyu nodded, “Is he a weirdo? Like do I have to worry about you popping up on a missing persons ad?”

“I hope not, but let me share my location with you just in case,” you joked making him chuckle, “But honestly, he seems like a good guy. It was kind of weird at first since it all seemed rushed so i was obviously worried but he explained why and its all good now”

“Spill the tea, why was he in a hurry to find a roommate?” Beomgyu asked, visibly more interested in your story than before, but still gaming.

“His girlfriend slept with his roommate when he was at work,” You said making Beomgyu gasp dramatically.

“Whoa, what a bitch,” he said, “I would’ve fought my roommate.”

“And you would’ve lost too,” you said to him making him kick your chair causing it to roll back a bit. Your laughter began to slowly die down when you felt the vibrations of your ringing cellphone. You checked the caller, surprised to see the man in question’s name on your screen.

“Hello?”

“Have I ever told you you’re the best roommate I’ve ever had?” Immediately you were taken back by the brightness in his voice. He was obviously being dramatic and you could practically hear the favor he’s going to ask.

“Well it’s not like I have a lot of competition, right?” You asked, hearing the line go silent for a moment making you wonder if you shouldn’t have said that.

Soobin rolled his eyes but wasn’t mad, “Right… So can you do me a favor? I have to meet up with some friends right after work but my phone is about to die and I don’t have a charger. Is there any way you can bring one to my work?”

You thought about it for a moment, “Nobody has one you can borrow?”

“Yes, but there’s no way I’m asking her for it,” he said with an annoyed sigh. He’s already asked everyone and they’ve all pointed him to his ex girlfriend, “Please?”

You looked back at Beomgyu who started playing his game again, forgetting you were even beside him and with a shrug Soobin couldn’t see, you said, “I guess, I’ll be there in a bit.”

Soobin’s attempt to thank you was cut short when you hung up abruptly but he was too relieved to care and tucked his phone back into his pocket.

“Want me to ask Jia if you could borrow it?” His coworker asked when Soobin got back to the counter. He shook his head, “I’ve got someone bringing one.”

He couldn’t believe he forgot his charger and didn’t realize it until he was halfway through his shift with only 15% battery. When he went to the break room in search of his charger, he nearly lost his shit when he couldn’t find it.

At first he hoped his work bestie, Taehyun, would have one but he didn’t and the only other person to ask was his ex. Obviously he wasn’t going to ask her and although he could try and run home after his shift, unless he were to find an outlet at the place he was going with his friends, his phone would be dead anyway.

Soobin’s last resort was to see if there was any way you could just bring it to him. He left it on the entrance table and must have forgot it when he was putting his shoes on and ran out. He was pleasantly surprised that you said yes and it was such a huge relief that he wouldn’t have to ask Jia.

When you walked into the coffee shop you were immediately surrounded by warmth and the smell of espresso beans. It was the first time you ever stepped foot into this cafè but it was calm and aesthetically pleasing, somewhere you can talk with friends or do some work. You followed the scent to the front register where a girl with blonde highlights stood with a polite smile on her face.

With wandering eyes toward the menu above her head, you asked, “Is Soobin here?”

You didn’t notice how that smile fell as she looked at you a little closer and before she could even respond, your roommate came out from behind some door holding a bag of hot to-go cups.

Once Soobin saw you, his heart unintentionally leapt in relief and he quickly set the bag down to go to you. A shy smile spread across his lips, very happy you actually came, “You brought it?”

“Yes,” you said, moving to the side of the counter and closer to where he was, beginning to look through your bag for it. Soobin had his hands on the counter waiting patiently as you two stood a few feet away from where his ex was. “But it wasn’t by the door, you left it on the bed.”

You felt a little awkward to go to his room but he left the door open and you could see it on the bed. Now, you could’ve easily just leant him yours so you wouldn’t invade his privacy but you weren’t going to risk him forgetting it.

“I did?” Soobin asked with a somewhat cute tilt of his head, “Oops, I swear I left it by the door, thanks though.”

When you handed it to him, your hands accidentally touched but neither one of you thought much about it, unaware of the people behind the counter watching the interaction.

“Do you want a drink?” Soobin asked, the least he could do is give you a free drink in thanks plus when he came out he saw you eyeing the menu.

“Sure,” you looked at the menu once again before just saying, “Surprise me.”

Soobin nodded with a smile as he got to making it while you looked down at the pastries in the dessert case.

By the time he was done and gave you the drink, you were ready to leave but before you could, he said, “I won’t be home till late.”

He just meant to give you a heads up that way you knew you had the apartment to yourself and didn’t think about how it would sound to the others.

You left with a goodbye and thanks for the drink and he was left behind to deal with his ex for another three hours.

“So who was that?” Taehyun asked, suddenly popping up beside him, catching him off guard and making him scream. Soobin clutched his chest in an attempt to calm his racing heart as he looked at his friend with a dumb expression, “Who?”

Taehyun couldn’t even pretend to be amused and asked again, “The person who you were talking to like ten seconds ago.”

“Oh! That’s Y/n, she’s my new roommate,” Soobin said casually with a shrug of his shoulders.

“That’s it? I thought you had moved on already, I was impressed,” Taehyun said with a chuckle as Soobin rinsed out the froth pitcher, “I think Jia got a little worried there for a second.”

Soobin stopped as he tried to process what his friend was saying, “What do you mean?”

“I’m not gonna lie it kind of looked like the two of you had something going on at first and Jia asked me if I knew her,” Taehyun told him confidently. Jia left on her break without telling either one of them but now they’re comfortably talking without her around.

“It shouldn’t matter to her anyway,” Soobin muttered under his breath as he moved past Taehyun to help the customer in line. Why does it matter to Jia who he talks to and why does she feel the need to ask Taehyun what he knows? She cheated on him. She betrayed his trust so heavily that he doubts she ever truly cared about him so why is she acting interested or concerned?

Does it bother her to see him talking to someone despite everything she’s done?

It was a couple days later when he realized your short visit to his work which should have been in the past, wasn’t.

Like the other night, he was stuck working with Jia and he had been counting every minute that passed until the end of his shift since it started. For hours they worked and talked around each other but never intercepted even when he could feel her eyes on him.

When they closed the cafè and Soobin was ready to run home and escape her presence, she decided to speak up, “Soobin?”

For a second he debated ignoring her so he could walk straight to the bus stop and not worry about seeing her for the rest of the night. It was hard to always act unaffected as if she didn’t completely disintegrate his entire confidence and practically shove new insecurities, he never wanted to show, down his throat.

Taking a deep breath, he turned to her wordlessly, waiting to see what she had to say.

“I…” she bit her lip trying to figure out how to word her thoughts, “I… um, I just wanted to know how you were doing.”

He resisted the urge to scoff as he answered questioning, “I’m good?”

For the past few weeks he’s worked hard to act like he didn't catch Jia and his roommate kissing on his couch so why was she wanting to know now of all times?

As much as he wanted to go home, part of him wanted to see what was up. Jia met his eyes, still taken back to see his harsh gaze which was a huge contrast than the gentle stare she had grown used to in the last six months.

“That’s good,” Jia cleared her throat awkwardly, “Are you, b-by chance seeing anyone?”

The obvious look of disbelief on Soobin’s face had her rushing to explain, “I mean… the person who came to visit you the other night. Is she, yknow, are you seeing her?”

“You mean Y/n?” Soobin asked with a tilt of his head. Why was she asking about you?

Jia stood there silently trying to figure out what to say next. What was her point? What was she trying to find out by asking him that? Had she expected him to still be mourning their relationship? Does she have a right to feel worried that he’s moved on so quickly after what she did?

Before she could even try to word a shitty excuse for why she asked in the first place, Soobin had already stopped paying attention to her when he got a text.

you: ordered too much pizza

you: I’ll die if I eat more

you: pls take some

For some reason your sequence of texts brought a slight smile on his face. He put a thumbs up on the message and looked at Jia, “Night.”

He left her standing there alone as he ran home to his roommate who was slowly beginning to like more and more. He doesn’t even mean it romantically because clearly now’s not the best time for him but he likes you as a roommate and possible friend? You’ve slowly begun to help each other out and you don’t completely avoid shared spaces so you’ve been interacting a little more. He wouldn’t call you a friend just yet but you’re an easy person to live with and he doesn’t have that many people around him so it’s nice talking to you either way.

The two of you text here and there but never about anything important, usually you ask how to fix the hot water and he sends you anime reels he thinks you might enjoy. If he’s up for it, he’ll ask if you want any pastries he’s supposed to throw out.

It’s a very simple arrangement and he much preferred being with you than suffering another second with Jia where he risked asking her every question he had on why he wasn’t good enough.

It’s a very simple arrangement and he much preferred being with you than suffering another second with Jia where he risked asking her every question he had on why he wasn’t good enough.

By the time Soobin got home, you had moved from the dining room to the couch where you engrossed yourself into some animated movie laying on your side. You barely raised your head to acknowledge him but he smiled anyway as he headed to the kitchen, “Thanks for sharing.”

“No problem, I overestimated how much I could eat in one setting,” You mumbled in a tired, raspy tone, “How was work?”

Soobin didn’t bother heating up his slice, or even get a plate, and he took a big bite out of the cold pizza, walked out the kitchen to talk, “It was alright, kinda slow aside from some teens who wouldn’t stop giggling at me.”

“Question, was that girl from the other night your ex or someone else?” You asked sitting up a bit when you noticed he was trying to sit down.

“Yeah that’s her, Jin, she also asked about you tonight,” Soobin said seeing it as a joke, “Taehyun said she seemed jealous when I was talking to you.”

Your brows furrowed with confusion, “Did you tell her I was your roommate?”

He shook his head, taking a moment to chew before saying, “No, I didn’t see why it mattered.”

“True, that’s so weird,” You released a sigh, resting your elbow on the arm rest and leaning your head on your hand, “Wow, no offense but your ex girlfriend is a bitch.”

He couldn’t hide the look of surprise on his face as you said that but he couldn’t disagree—he just would’ve used kinder words. It was kind of funny though and for some reason hearing you say that made him feel better. His other friends who know about it don’t really ask and they don’t explicitly tell him to his face how they felt about his former girlfriend. It just feels nice to have someone listen and be on his side, it made him want to open up more.

“Sorry, I really don’t want to seem mean, I just think its kind of bullshit for her to act jealous because you’re talking to someone. Like, why does she care who I am or how you know me when she cheated on you,” You said, unable to help yourself from speaking your mind, “Even if I was someone you’re talking to, why is she concerned about it? Did she expect you to just always be hung on her despite what she did?”

Soobin had to think about that for a second. That’s the same thing he had originally thought too but he tried to ignore it because it seemed wrong. He thought that maybe he was reading into it too much and Jia wasn’t actually jealous but now that you’re saying it too, he can’t help but wonder. She also talked to him tonight and even at work when they didn’t speak, she was looking at him constantly. She even tried helping him once but he just blew her off to do it on his own. It’s like tonight she was trying to remind him she was still around and that confused him.

“Do you think that’s true though?” He asked. You shrugged trying not to seem too invested but it was too late. Soobin is a good guy and now that you’ve met the girl, you just can’t wrap your mind around what she did. Cheating is already a huge betrayal but to do it with someone Soobin knew and lived with? To do it in the apartment, Soobin paid for? That’s the lowest of the low.

“I honestly do.”

What you said stayed on his mind for days. It didn’t help that Jia was trying to talk to him at work and last night she looked at his instagram story despite the fact they unfollowed each other. He just doesn’t get it. What did she want with him now?

When he came into work today, there was his favorite drink in his locker that he knew was from Jia because Taehyun had told her. Thankfully he wasn’t working with her now but Taehyun had filled him in. Apparently, she came in with drinks and he saw her putting it in Soobin’s locker.

“I don’t get her,” Soobin said with a huff of frustration, “Why does she keep doing these things?”

“Honestly, she probably regrets fucking up and wants to get on your good side again,” Taehyun said as he made a hot matcha latte for a customer that Soobin was ringing up.

“But why?”

“What if she wants to get you back?” Taehyun asked as he finished the drink and handed it to the customer. He turned back to Soobin, realization hitting him like a truck and he gasped, “Oh my god. She probably thinks you’ve moved on already and wants to get you back! That’s really bold of her to think you’d fall for it, right?”

“Right. You don’t think she is though, right? Why would she cheat on me just to try and get back with me?” Soobin asked and his voice was laced with confusion.

“Because she probably thinks it’s going to work and you’ll fall for it. God I knew based off her MBTI that she was going to try something, I could see the determination in her eyes when she saw Y/n.”

Soobin couldn’t help but scoff with a laugh. Why were you the reason Jia suddenly wanted to notice him again? You and Soobin were nothing but roommates, the only time you ever talk is during your daily debriefings when you’re getting midnight snacks. You don’t text and you don’t do anything together so it’s comical that you apparently worried his ex girlfriend enough based off one interaction to try and get him back—he wouldn’t do it, he should add.

“Wait! You know what you should do?” Taehyun dropped a itcher into the sink haphazardly as the idea came to mind, “Imagine if you started dating Y/n and made it known to Jia that you’ve moved on. She’s only putting in effort again because she probably thinks she can get you back. You gotta make her think you’re over her.”

“First of all, I am over her and second, Y/n and I don’t like each other like that,” Soobin said, making Taehyun roll his eyes.

“I don’t mean like actually date, I mean… make Jia think you are that way she can back off and won’t think she has a chance,” Taehyun said.

Soobin froze, looking at his friend in disbelief. Taehyun said it so casually like what he said wasn’t a big deal at all and Soobin just couldn’t believe it. He was completely lost by the whole and after an awkward silence between the two he just shook his head feeling a blush rise in his cheeks as he said, “That is a really bad idea.”

It was an awful idea and too much work. Soobin didn’t need to prove anything to anyone and why would he make Jia believe he was over her when he knew he was? She could try and talk to him all she wants but it won’t make a difference to him, honestly. It is kind of annoying that neither Taehyun or Yeonjun believed he was over Jia and now it seems like Jia doesn’t think so too? Why else would she be making this much effort to talk to him again?

Taehyun’s words were stuck in his head now and it made no sense. Why would he drag you into his problems and why would you want to do it? You probably have things going on in your own life that there's no reason to bother you with his. Sure, you’ve been fun to talk to since you’re not his usual circle of friends but that’s it. You don’t know each other well enough to do that.

“Hey,” when he got home that night, he could tell by the tone of your voice that something was off. You were in the kitchen washing some dishes when he walked in.

“Hey,” Soobin greeted as he began taking his shoes off at the door, “How was your day?”

“It was alright. I almost cried in the bathroom because my boss yelled at me for getting her the wrong milk in her coffee,” you said with a shrug, “And yours?”

“Oh,” Soobin said, blinking slowly trying to figure out if he should ask if you were okay or just say his part. “Um, it was nice, I worked with my friend but he said the craziest thing I had ever heard and it threw me off.”

You dried your hands off with the towel and walked past him, heading to your room but still holding conversation, “What’d he say?”

“He said that I should pretend to date you,” the words completely slipped from his and the second they were said, he felt his body tense up and his face go blank. You stopped at your door, turning to look at his confused state when he suddenly rushed to say, “I mean… She’s been trying to talk lately and I don’t know what she’s doing but it’s like she thinks we can get back together.”

He bit his lip and he just couldn’t stop talking, “So, Taehyun said I needed to make her think I was over her and that I should get your help but I thought it was an awful idea. Like, I don’t need to prove anything to her if anyone else and there’s no way you would ever do something lik—I would never ask you too and I know I should stop talking about it but you asked and for some reason I always just tell you what’s going and I can’t stop, oh my god.”

He covered his face with his hands, unable to see the way a smile played on your lips at his rambling. With a deep sigh you opened your bedroom door, “Goodnight.”

He waved goodbye, still refusing to look at you and stormed to his room in embarrassment. You got in yours and laid in bed where you got on your phone and immediately told your friends.

you: I think my roommate is weird

beomgyu: why

you: idk, just strange

kai: aww, ur twinning w/him (♡ˊ͈ ꒳ ˋ͈)

you: … ( •᷄‎ࡇ•᷅ )

beomgyu: (⸝⸝⸝◉⸝ ｡ ⸝◉⸝⸝⸝)

you: anyway, he was talking about fake dating like this is a wattpad story

kai: do it, his ex is a bitch

Lately, it’s been getting hard for Soobin to look forward to the café. It’s such a huge contrast to the work he does at his internship that going to the cafe sometimes feels relaxing and not like work at all but these past few weeks have been dreadful. It’s very hard to ignore someone who hurt you when you have to work with her. It’s a constant reminder and everyone seems to always point it out. Taehyung was right, she was trying to do something with him again and it’s becoming even more noticeable everytime he goes to work.

“Are you going to Yuna’s party this weekend?” Jia asked him. The shop had been slow so he busied himself with closing duties, hoping he could get done sooner and meet his friend.

“Probably,” Soobin answered absently.

“Oh, maybe I’ll see you there,” Jia said with a nervous laugh, “I gotta be honest, Soobin it’s strange being so distant.”

Soobin scoffed, looking at her in disbelief. What was wrong with her and why did she act like there isn’t a cause for this distance.

Just as he was debating telling her how he felt, the bell above the door chimed and they both got ready to greet them with a customer service smile. His soon turned into a real smile despite his confusion at the surprise, “What are you doing here?”

“I want coffee?” Your tone was questioning but light as you got to the counter, trying not to look at the girl again.

It’s been a bit awkward since Soobin made that weird comment the other night but you’re tired of acting bothered by it. It was harmless and your friends thought it was funny [ and a good idea? ] but you just thought it was bizarre. You think it’s strange and although you wanted to avoid Soobin it’s very hard when you get to know him. He’s kind of cute actually—not looks wise but personality wise.

“Nice,” Soobin said with a nod of his head although he made no move to ring you up or make you a drink. You looked from him down to the register, “Can I order yet?”

“Oh, yes,” he cleared his throat awkwardly and waited for you to say something. Once he rang up your drink, he gave a discount and left to make it while you paid.

Honestly, he thought you were mad at him for what he said. He still has no idea why he brought up what Taehyun said but the way you ignored him let him know it was a mistake at the time. He’s been worried for days that he crossed the line but now you’re here talking to him like everything is normal. It makes him feel better.

You could feel Jia’s eyes on you and this time around it bothered you. Why was she glaring at you like you were the problem? You don’t even know her and it’s very obvious there’s nothing between you and Soobin. Why would it matter to her if there was or wasn’t?

“Are you off already?” Soobin asked handing you your drink over the counter.

You nodded, “Kind of? I still have some stuff to finish up but the WiFi at home is lagging.”

“Just work here then,” Soobin said motioning toward the tables, “Connect to the internet and keep me company.”

“How? You’re working,” you pointed out.

“Nobody’s here,” Soobin said, completely dismissing Jia, “Please?”

Now that he knows you’re not bothered by him it’s been like a confidence boost to try and befriend you again. He just needed the assurance that you weren’t going to ditch him and move out so for you to come and talk to him felt good. He was worried he scared you off.

With a dramatic sigh, you pretended to give in, “Oh, I guess I could do that. I’ll just stay a bit.”

“Or you could stay till I’m off and we can go home together,” Soobin said but the sound of the espresso machine grumbling stole your attention instead. Jia was cleaning it already and had no problem cutting your conversation short with the loudness of it.

She was clearly annoyed with you being here and you just couldn’t understand it. Why was she so mad when she’s the one who ruined her relationship with Soobin? Soobin deserved so much better and it annoys you that she’s the one upset now.

“Maybe, who knows if I want to wait that long,” you said playfully, watching him leave the counter to talk to you. You were the only one in the shop and he didn’t care either way, you’re his saving grace from spending this last hour with Jia trying to talk to him.

“Please? I’ll buy you food on the way,” he said, feeling your eyes on him.

He wore a cream colored crew neck and light washed baggy jeans, a brown apron tied at his waist and even his glasses tonight. You don’t see him in his glasses often so it was a nice surprise, “Alright, you got me. I’ll stay.”

What really made you decide on staying wasn’t his begging or his offer to buy you food but it was actually knowing he probably wanted to avoid any more alone time with his ex. You already pitied the guy’s circumstances and you couldn’t just leave him to suffer while he begged for your help.

So you stayed, you had to remind Soobin every now and then to get back to work when he would lose track of time telling you whatever was on his mind and forget a customer was around. Jia did not acknowledge you at all, not until the very end when she came up to you and with a snarky tone said, “Heads up, we close in ten minutes.”

“Okay,” you flashed her a polite but strained smile, “I’m just waiting for Soobin.”

“I know, but you’ll have to leave when we’re closing,” she said bluntly.

“Really? Thanks for the heads up,” you put your headphones back on and turned your attention to your laptop, making it known you weren’t going to talk to her anymore and with a slight roll of her eyes, she left.

After a minute or so, you closed your laptop and put your things away. You got up from the table as Soobin was coming out with things he was planning on restocking and when he saw you get up, he practically dropped it all to go to you, “What are you doing?”

“I’m just going to wait outside,” you said with a shrug, slinging your backpack over your shoulders.

“Bu—“

“Soobin, can you start cleaning out the espresso machines?” Jia asked with an annoyed tone and with a huff in irritation, he watched you make your leave till he was alone once again.

He didn’t bother talking to her as he finished up his chores and the cafè was filled with an uncomfortable silence the remainder of the time. He’s been cleaning all evening but Jia wants to remind him about the espresso machines just because she sees him talking to you. It’s crazy and Soobin doesn’t know how to speak up.

He has so much he wants to say but then he gets worried he’s being rude or overthinking things that he ends up just staying silent anyway. That’s probably why his relationship with Jia was so rocky from the beginning—and also why he didn't argue when he caught her. He just doesn’t want to be in uncomfortable situations.

You had honestly debated just going home despite Soobin wanting you to stay. It was freezing cold out and you only had a thin sweater that did nothing to keep you warm. You had every right to just go home but he asked you so nicely and Jia was kind of rude when she tried kicking you out and it makes your pettiness want to show through.

When Soobin and Jia finally finished closing, she waited around while she locked the door looking like she had something to say but he wouldn’t even turn to look at her. Instead, he looked around for you, worried you had left already but he found you sitting on the curb, surprising him in the process. Jia didn’t seem to see you there either and it was hard for her to hide the look of displeasure when you got up.

“So what are you feeding me?” You asked, hugging your arms around yourself to fight off the cold wind from the winter air. Soobin didn’t hesitate to take off his jacket, leaving him only in a crewneck and pulling it around you.

“Something warm?” He asked, looking at the tip of your nose which was a deep shade of red. The two of you left without so much as a goodbye and when you were out of earshot he added, “Also, thanks for waiting. I thought you would’ve left and now I feel bad that you had to wait outside. I would’ve said something but you were already leaving and I assumed you got mad and went home.”

“I was going to,” you said honestly as he held the door open to some Korean hotpot tent restaurant, “But I decided against it. Also, I’ve got something to say.”

“Oh yeah?” He asked, sitting down at a table across from you.

“I can tell you struggle a little bit speaking your mind and she talks to you like she still has a say over what you do,” you said to him, “And she was kind of rude? Like, she didn’t say anything mean to me but it’s obvious she doesn’t like me for talking to you and I don’t think that’s fair. So, is there any way we can make her know you don’t want her without you having to tell her harshly?”

It took him a moment to process everything you had said in such a short time and he wondered if you had said anything at all. Maybe he imagined you saying that because it’s been in his mind lately and he couldn’t see what you would gain anything from it so why would you help him?

He should just tell you it’s not something you have to do. If you were to go along with a charade just so that it looks like he’s moved on from his ex. He knows he has, he just can’t be mean. All he can do is ignore her but that doesn’t seem to be stopping Jia from approaching him. No, it still doesn’t mean he has to drag you into something useless.

“Well, there’s a party this weekend that I know she’ll be at.”

Pulling it off was harder than you had originally thought and there’s very specific reasons for this.

One, appearing as anything aside from friends or roommates was hard considering you were still at an awkward stage of friendship. You knew Soobin and how he looked in the mornings but you’ve no clue what his favorite movie is or favorite color or even his zodiac sign. You knew his ex girlfriend was a cheating bitch but you don’t know what his internship is or what his major was in college so when someone at the party asked you things about Soobin… you had no idea what to say.

Two, you’re not sure if the chemistry is there. So far, you don’t think you’re pulling it off. Sure, Soobin has remained at your side since the two of you got here but you think you both look stiff and nervous. Even when someone expects him to introduce you, it feels weird and you’re not sure how close you’re supposed to seem.

“You two suck,” Taehyun said [the first time he had ever spoken to you too], “Put some flavor into this. Hold hands, act cute, give me emotion because I can tell you right now, Jia won’t think she’s got competition.

Soobin rolled his eyes, “Shh, this is harder than we thought it would be— a-nd it’s not about competition.”

“Really? Because Yuna asked me who you brought because Jia was asking her, something about you not wanting to talk to her?” Taehyun said with a chuckle, “It’s like she’s completely forgotten what happened.”

You hadn’t spoken up once this entire time but Soobin was beginning to look visibly uncomfortable talking about his ex in a crowded place. Usually he’s open when you’re at home and you’re the only one listening to him but right now he keeps glancing around anxiously.

“Should we get a drink?” You asked him suddenly, watching him nod his head eagerly in an attempt to leave his friend who said too many things he didn’t want to hear right now.

“Sorry for him, he just says things sometimes and—“

“It’s alright,” you laughed softly, making your way to the kitchen where the countertop was filled with various bottles. Soobin was right behind you, not wanting to lose you in the crowd.

He doesn’t understand you. You’re so nice to him and he doesn’t know what to make of it. You don’t question him or make him talk when he doesn’t want to. You seem to have some understanding of what he wants and he doesn’t even have to tell you anything.

He knows you’re just helping him out so he doesn’t look like a sore loser at a party he knows his ex-girlfriend is at but for the moment, he wants to forget Jia is here. Can he just have one night where his past relationship isn’t brought up by Taehyun or Yeonjun or anybody else? Can he just pretend like the two of you are here as friends just hanging out and not because you somewhat pitied his circumstances?

“You look pretty tonight,” the words slipped before he could stop himself and he immediately turned red in embarrassment, “I mean… yknow…”

“Thanks,” you said casually as you filled a cup of whatever interested you, “I actually put in effort, just for you.”

You didn’t think much about what you said even though you could see the blush in his cheeks. It was a bit surprising actually. At first, you thought Soobin was just some distant gamer you shared an apartment with but little by little you’ve gotten to know him more. He’s still shy like you first assumed but he’s also kind of cute, as a friend you mean. It would be weird to think of him as anything but that considering what he’s gone through lately.

He couldn’t help but smile, trying to hide it by biting his lower lip but his dimple still showed through and for a second he just stood there looking at you. You handed him a drink and as he opened his mouth to say something else, a familiar feminine voice came from behind him.

“Soobin? Is this where you’ve been hiding all night?” Yuna asked as she entered the kitchen with a smile, “I kept hearing everyone say you were here but I couldn’t find you. Hey buddy.”

“Hey Yuna,” Soobin said with a smile. Yuna was one of the few other baristas from work and someone he did enjoy working with. She was bubbly and nice so they got along easily but she’s more friends with Jia than him. He still can’t tell if she knew Jia cheated on him or not and he hasn’t bothered saying anything. She knew something happened to make them break up but neither have gone into it for different reasons. He didn’t want to tell the whole world he was cheated on and Jia didn’t want to seem like the lying cheater she was.

“This is Y/n,” Soobin said suddenly, grabbing your hand and pulling you toward his side, “She’s my uh, um…”

“Friend,” you said, emphasizing on the word that it sounded like it had a double meaning and he couldn’t tell if you did it on purpose. Did you mean friend, like how he’s friends with Yeonjun and Taehyun? Or did you mean, friend, like something more?

While he tried to decipher it, Yuna seemed to pick up on the tone much faster than he did and her smile strained slightly. “Really? That’s, uh, that’s great. Have you seen Jia yet?”

“Who?” You asked Soobin, looking cutely confused, feigning innocence as you touched his arm.

“The girl from work,” Soobin said despite you already knowing. The room began to feel hot as Yuna stared at you and Soobin couldn’t take the heat. He didn’t like the way it seemed like she was trying to pick you apart with her eyes—probably seeing if there was anything she should tell Jiw and he couldn’t take it. It had him taking big sips of his drink to satiate his dry mouth, completely ignoring the heavy taste of alcohol.

“Binnie,” your use of a nickname nearly sent him in a spiral, it was the first time you’ve ever called him as such and there was a possibility it was all for show.

“Yeah?” He cleared his throat awkwardly, ignoring Yuna to turn to you.

“Don’t drink so fast, okay?” Concern was evident in your tone but you didn’t seem displeased. You just worried about having to haul a 6-foot-something drunk man back to your apartment when he wasn’t your boyfriend.

He looked down at his empty cup, realizing he really did chug back the full drink quickly and the thought alone made him dizzy. He’s usually good at knowing his limit but he’s been nervous all night. When you first got here he got a drink that emptied out right after he saw Taehyun for the first time. It was before Taehyun had even approached you two because he was in the middle of some game but it made Soobin nervous. He had to tell his friend ahead of time that he was bringing you but then the thought of Taehyun saying something he should had him anxious and he chugged his drink then too.

Now, Yuna’s here bringing up Jia once again and on top of that you’ve called him a friend but your tone sounded different than usual and you held his arm and called him Binnie—and it all just became too much.

What was wrong with him?

“Soobin?” You said his name a little while after the kitchen encounter and you sounded so distant despite standing right next to him. Just by looking at him, you could tell he was at least tipsy.

His cheeks were flushed, his eyes a bit lazy and he just seemed less stiff than earlier. He’s also leaning into you a bit, no longer caring who saw or what people thought of it but more so for a sense of comfort as his vision blurred with the alcohol in his system. “Hm?”

“You okay?” You asked as he blinked slowly, “You don’t seem as nervous anymore.”

“Oh! Um,” he looked down at you and how close the two of you had grown, making him grin, “I’m fine, I’m with you.”

“Okay… but let me know when you’re ready to call it a night,” you said with a small yawn and he couldn’t help but look to your lips, blinking away the thought as you pressed your lips closed and looked off in the distance.

He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts a bit but right now everything seemed fuzzy. The night had been fine at first. He hadn’t been nervous at all and was actually a bit excited to get a chance to hang out with you [aside from the night you stopped to get food] and he had been thinking on how it would go all day.

When the two of you got to the party he had met up with Taehyun and he had a good time with him too so the only time he ever felt uncomfortable was when he was reminded of the situation. Talking about Jia didn’t bother him as much as the reminder that everyone knew about it did. On top of that, anytime someone looked at you or asked who you were, he would get nervous. He doesn’t know what’s going on with him.

Just as you were going to ask him one more time if he was okay, you felt a sudden weight pressed against your shoulder as Soobin leaned into your side. He felt heavy against your arm and his head dipped low enough that his face was pressing into yours, “I think I’m ready.”

“Ready?” You ask, feeling your heart race as the warmth of his breath fanned your neck and his hand brushed against yours like he was debating reaching for yours. When you looked at him, it was finally noticeable that whatever he drank tonight had taken effect and he was finally drunk. He’s more quiet than you expected. His cheeks are red with a blush and his lips a bit pouty making him look a little cute.

He nodded his head aggressively, “Let’s go home.”

You didn’t question his decision and took his hand in yours when he swayed in his step and looked around for his friend so they could at least say their goodbyes. Every now and then you would look back to see how he was hanging but he seemed perfectly content having a blank mind and being dragged behind you.

“Soob? You good there, buddy?” Taehyun asked once he saw his friend’s state of drunkenness and placed a soothing hand on his tall friend’s back.

“Yesh,” Soobin said, leaning into your back, “Going home.”

Taehyun looked over at you with concerned eyes, “Are you alright? Sorry, I think he had too much to drink.”

“I’m good, the last bus will pass soon so we’ll just get home that way,” You told him, scanning the people around at the party, eyes catching on the one person you didn’t care to see.

Jia didn’t shy back from your short eye contact and she looked far from happy at the way Soobin was clinging to you—something he never did with her. To be fair, Jia was usually the one out at parties and getting wasted so she didn’t give him many chances to be the drunk one with no worries.

It bothered her to see how comfortable Soobin had gotten with another girl after their break up.

“Alright, i’ll give you my number and just let me know if you two get home safe,” Taehyun said before leaning closer into you, “Also, Soobin really likes being around you. Be safe.”

His friend left after that and for a moment you thought about what he just said, wondering how he meant it and if you were too hard into it.

“Y/n,” Soobin whined against you, “Home, please.”

“Oh my god, okay, let's go,” You said with a small laugh as he followed after you as got to the door.

Soobin was tired, he always got sleepy when he drank too much and when the two of you got on the empty bus, he couldn’t help but rest his head against the window. You didn’t pay much attention to him on the ride home but every now and then he could feel your eyes on him probably wondering how he was holding up. Going up to your apartment was another challenge trying to drag Soobin up the stairs without stumbling up the steps.

“Thanks,” Soobin yawned cutely as he rubbed his tired eyes, waving you goodnight.

You went to your room silently, flashing him a smile as you left and once your door was shut, you immediately began to undress. It had been a long night and all you wanted was to crawl in bed, scroll in your phone and go to sleep. You didn’t drink as much as Soobin did so the alcohol didn’t have the same effect on you but you were still tired. It was nice getting to hang out with him for a while despite the reason or who was around. At some points you were able to forget who was there but when you would catch sight of Jia and think back to Soobin, you just couldn’t understand why she would ever do that to someone.

Now changed into your pajamas, too tired to do anything more, you were halfway crawling on your bed when there was a soft thud on your door and a small whine of your name, “Y/n.”

“Yes, Soobin?” You asked with a sigh and a smile as you heard your roommate on the other side of the door, “I thought you were going to bed.”

“I’m not tired, can I come in?” He asked and you could practically see the pout on his lips. It was about midnight so you should just turn him away but you could hear the shuffling on the other side of the door and before you knew it, you were unlocking your bedroom door and letting him in.

“What’s wrong?” You asked as he hesitated to sit on the edge of your bed.

“Nothing,” he answered honestly, “I just… I wanted to see what you were up to, were you going to bed?”

“I was probably just going to be on my phone a bit,” you laid down on your usual spot reaching for the remote to your television, “What should I watch?”

You didn’t outwardly tell him to lay down next to you but the way you moved your things to your side, it was easy to assume you didn’t mind. Soobin was still hesitant to lay down with his back against your headboard but once you made no sign to kick him out, he let himself relax as you scrolled through Netflix.

“Something scary,” Soobin said, barely paying attention as he looked around your bedroom. This was the first time he had stepped into it since you moved in and it looks completely different than what it did before. He couldn’t explain into words but it looked like a room you would have. It was like an insight to who you are from the pictures on your walls to the clothes by your closet. It was cozy and your bed was so soft he found himself yawning.

“You surprised me tonight,” You told him as you finally settled on a movie about a haunted house, “First because you were surprisingly popul—“

“Why’s that a surprise?” Soobin asked, slightly more alert as he looked at you, “I’m a catch.”

“You are,” you said casually, “I just meant… a lot of people like you.”

He couldn’t help but bite his lips at your words. He didn’t mean to seem overly confident or anything but he knew he was somewhat likable. He tried being nice and friendly to everyone and clearly sometimes that didn’t work in his favor when it came to relationships but he’s always had people around him. Not everyone he would consider a real friend but the ones he have right now or the real deal.

Taehyun and him got along from the moment they met at work. Soobin’s the one who trained Taehyun when he first started and they just got super close from there.

Yeonjun has been his best friend for as long as he can remember and they even fight like an old bickering couple too.

Sometimes they don’t understand him—like when they thought he was still upset over Jia, and he needs a break from them but that’s where you came along. You’re one of his friends now too so does that mean you also like him?

As a friend?

As more?

No, not as more. He was getting ahead of himself.

“Don’t say those things to me, Y/n,” Soobin whined, hiding behind a pillow.

“Why?” You asked with a small laugh as he curled himself up on your bed, looking every bit out of place in your Sanrio bed sheets and his tall frame.

“Because, they’ll get to my head,” he confessed, sitting up a little to regain himself, “So what’s the other reason you were surprised by me?”

You hummed in thought, “You’re surprisingly cute when you’re drunk, and really clingy.”

It was clear that throughout the time it took to get home, Soobin had sobered up enough to have clearer thoughts and you just wanted to be honest. It’s what you believed and you hoped he wouldn’t take it the wrong way and think you were hitting on him. Sure, Soobin is attractive for many reasons and you enjoy hanging out with him but just think about the circumstances. He’s your roommate and he just got out of a relationship with someone who cheated on him.

“I mean,” you cleared your throat awkwardly, acting like you were watching the movie, “I bet you really sold it to Jia that you were seeing someone. There’s no way she’ll try and get you to go out with her again now.”

At the reminder, Soobin seemed to sigh, “Yeah.”

For a second he had thought you were going to say something else. He doesn’t know what he’s feeling at the moment and it worries him but at the same time it’s exciting and he wished he didn’t react this way to you and so soon.

“Do you work tomorrow?” You asked him, letting out a small yawn as you made yourself more comfortable indeed the covers.

“Only in the afternoon,” Soobin said, looking over at you hopefully, “Why? Do you want to do something?”

“I have to work, if I get off early I might stop by,” You said, looking back at him too. You could see the small dimple in his cheek become more prominent as he resisted the urge to smile, nodding his head.

With a small sigh, Soobin checked the time and sat up, “Okay, I’ll let you sleep.”

For some reason he wanted to do or say more but he’s not sure what he would’ve been able to say in the first place. You got up after him so you could close the door on his way out but at the door, you both stopped to look at each other.

“I did have fun tonight,” you told him truthfully.

Soobin stood at the door looking down at you with his lip pulled between his teeth. It was becoming more obvious that he liked being around you. He thought you were pretty and fun to be with and you have yet to make him feel poorly. He’s very aware of the fact that he’s only been single for a little over a month but he can’t deny the sudden race in his heart when you’re around.

It scares him to think he might be feeling something toward you at such an awkward time.

“Goodnight.”

Things slowly began to change between you two and neither one of you knew what to do about that sort of thing. On one hand, Soobin wanted to see if you would like to spend more time together but he also wasn’t sure if he was ready. It has nothing to do with how he felt toward his ex girlfriend and more with how he felt at possibly seeing someone again.

Jia was a major push to his confidence and definitely raised his insecurities and trust issues so he thought he would stay single for a while. Plus, you were his roommate which could pose an entirely different problem and yet none of that has helped him stop thinking about you. It’s been days from the party and he knows hes been slightly more in your bubble than before but its only because he doesn’t know how to read you.

How is he supposed to know how you might feel about him and how should he feel about it?

“You’re overthinking it,” Yeonjun said as he sat across from Soobin and Yeonjun who were in their matching brown aprons as part of the cafe’s unofficial uniform. The cafe was empty aside from a couple college students grossly immersed in their studies to care that the only two workers were currently siting at a table with a friend. Every now and then the three would feel the eyes of some high school girl gawking at them through the shop windows but none dared to enter making the cafe slow with traffic.

“If you like her, why can’t you at least try?” Yeonjun asked him like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Because she’s my roommate and what if that just messes things up completely?” Soobin asked.

“I mean, Y/n seemed pretty into you at the party,” Taehyun said with a shrug of his shoulders.

Soobin shook his head, “No, she was just being nice. I was drunk and probably embarrassed myself so there’s no way she liked it—well, okay she said it was cute, but do you think she meant it?”

Yeonjun reached across the small table and pinched Soobin’s cheek hard, pouting his lips in a kiss as he gushed over his friend, “Of course she meant it, just look at you. Who can resist this bunny face?”

Just as Soobin was ready to fight Yeonjun off, the familiar bell above the door rang and a loud burst of energy came through the door.

“Kai, I swear to god, if you don’t stop I’m going to bite you,” a guy said as he smacked another guy off and the two cafe workers couldn’t help but snap into attention and get behind the counter.

“Y/n,” Kai said with a forced whiny voice, “Save me.”

“Don’t touch me,” you pushed him off as you looked around the cafè for Soobin.

Just a couple feet away from you, he stood there with his lips parted in surprise before letting his eyes drift off to the two guys behind you. A smile spread across his lips as he left Taehyun and Yeonjun to go to you, “Hi, what are you doing here?”

“We were just at the arcade across the street so I figured why not stop for a drink?” You said with a gentle smile that had him practically giggling.

“Oh, so you didn’t come just to see me?” Soobin teased, a flirty undertone in his voice. He couldn’t help but glance back to the guys, curious who they were.

Since you moved in, you haven’t brought anyone home and he assumed you were single since you offered to go with him to a party—and let him on your bed, but now he’s not sure. What if everything you were doing really was as a friend and he’s just overthinking it all?

“Sadly no, I really need coffee,” you joked as he went to the counter to get you a drink. Taehyun was helping the two guys while you talked to Soobin and he couldn’t wait to be done so he can ask who they were.

“O-oh,” he cleared his throat awkwardly as he began to make it, ringing you up and trying to apply some sort of discount so you wouldn’t have to pay full price. Before he could tell you your total,one of the guys who was with you gave him cash to pay.

Beomgyu placed his hand on your shoulder as he leaned down to whisper, “Is this him?”

You just nodded your head ignoring his growing smile as he thanked Soobin for his change back and ruffled your hair, “Hurry up, I need real food.”

“Are you gonna be home later?” Soobin asked as the guys left through the door, waiting outside but looking in and it was clear they were talking about you. He wanted to say he was just curious for no reason but part of him wanted to know if you would be out with them.

“Probably, not till late though, I think we’re probably gonna go have a drink or two,” you said with a shrug and this was the perfect time for Soobin to ask who they were. Were they just friends? Was one of them something more? Have you been in any relationship?

“Let me know if you want me to pick you up,” Soobin said, “I-I mean, yknow, repay the favor from the other night that I embarrassed myself.”

“You didn’t,” you rolled your eyes looking around. Your friends were waiting and you had your drink so you should’ve left by now but instead you’re looking at his two friends. Taehyun had gone with Yeonjun again and it’s the first time in a while you saw Yeonjun. When you first met him he had gone over to the apartment and you had thought he was attractive. You still do but not in the same context anymore. Taehyun waved at you enthusiastically which you did back and looked back at Soobin, “It was cute, but should I call you tonight then? Or will you be asleep.”

“I’ll hear you come home either way, so come say hi even if it’s late,” Soobin said, making you nod your head.

“Okay, well I have to go before they come and drag me out,” you told him as you pointed to your two friends who were getting annoyed waiting out there.

“Y/n,” he called for you but when you looked back at him, he couldn’t bring himself to ask, “Nevermind, be safe.”

Soobin waved you goodbye and watched you leave with the guy from earlier wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

“God, Bin, you can’t even hide it,” Yeonjun said with a chuckle as Soobin joined them again, “You looked jealous.”

“What?” Soobin looked at him with big doe eyes, looking every bit clueless as he felt, “No, I just—I don’t, um, Y/n’s… did I?”

They both nodded their heads and Taehyun said, “Yes but not too much. We noticed because we’re your best friends but I’m sure none of them could tell. You were all smiley and blush which is major cringecore with Y/n but any time you looked at those guys, you’d glare.”

“I don’t glare,” Soobin muttered under his breath as he stared at the window, “Besides, I don’t know if one of them is dating Y/n so there’s no point in doing anything now.”

“You didn’t bother to ask!?” Yeonjun and Taehyun asked at the same time that it caused Soobin to jump, feeling startled.

“I’m sorry but if I was into someone and I was in their bed and then I see them talking to someone, you better believe I’m going to ask who!” Yeonjun added, making Soobin groan in frustration that he couldn’t just man up and ask.

It’s clear there’s no point in pretending he isn’t catching feelings for you and he has to figure out how to tell you. The only problem is if you reject him, he won’t be sure how to live with you anymore—especially if you were to date someone.

He should’ve just acted curious and asked who they were.

“You guys are so annoying,” you said with a groan as you followed after your two best friends who were fighting down the street.

“Soobin and Y/n, kissing in a tree! K-I-S-S—ow, ow, ow!” Kai cried out as you pulled his ear.

“This is why I don’t tell you guys anything,” you said when they laughed. Kai was doing that creepy evil loud laugh he always does and Beomgyu is just instigating it.

“First of all, you tell us everything,” Beomgyu pointed out, “And what’s the problem? Pretty sure he likes you too.”

“Oh my god, I don’t like Soo—I mean, he’s my roommate, it would be weird,” you said, “Plus, he just got out of a relationship.”

“Yeah like two months ago or something, and she cheated on him,” Kai said before clutching his chest, “You could heal his heart.”

“Corny,” Beomgyu yelled and the two laughed again.

“Whatever, let’s just go eat.”

It took a lot of convincing from his friends for him to actually agree to just go for it. He had been debating it for a while now and each day that passed where he gets to see you first thing in the morning or last thing at night just reminds him he wants to keep seeing you. He’s not sure how much more he could go just acting like a friend.

He likes everything about you and he’s not good at hiding it. Usually, it takes him a while to fall for someone.

When he met Jia its because they were partners in chemistry one semester and she helped him get the job at the cafe so he could make more money aside from his internship. Truth be told, Jia kind of scared him at first because she never hid her interest from him. She was aggressive with it and he didn’t know how to react so he never made a move on her.

She’s the one who had to ask him and even then, he didn’t say yes right away because he hadn’t been sure if it was something he wanted to do. Over time he obviously grew feelings for her but the relationship never felt as easy as his friendship with you did.

So really, the realization of how differently and strongly he felt for you in such a short time was an indicator that he clearly had strong feelings for you.

When he got home after the cafe, he had a strong sense of confidence that was going to be his push to just go for it. He had been talking himself up all day and had decided the worst thing that could happen is you say no. He could live with that… maybe.

“Y/n?” Soobin called out to you as he dropped his things at the door, “You home?”

You were in your room reading some poetry book with music playing quietly and he knocked on your open door. You looked up at him, sliding your headphones down to your neck, “Hey.”

You sat up a little, motioning for him to come inside and he looked around nervously, “Are you busy?”

“No?” You smiled as you looked down at your book, “What’s up?”

Soobin bit his lip in thought as he tried to figure out how to word it before saying, “Do you want to… I don’t know, get food? Maybe go for a walk later?”

“Um, sure?” You said with a racing heart, “What time?”

“Um, an hour? Forty five minutes?” Soobin asked, more eager now knowing you’ll hang out with him, “Thirty?”

“In thirty minutes?” You asked, “Okay.”

“Okay, I’m just gonna change and probably, uh,” Soobin blinked nervously, “Get ready.”

“Okay,” you laughed softly as he nearly stumbled out the door. Once your door was shut, you jumped out of bed and straight to your vanity where you hoped to make yourself look a little better.

This wasn’t a date.

Soobin didn’t ask you out, he just asked you to get food.

How would you feel if he were to ask you on a date? Would he ever do that or does he only see you as a friend? For all you know, he’s sworn off dating completely.

When you left with Soobin at your side, things were normal. You talked about normal things, laughed about normal things and for a while you were able to forget your worries. You were just spending time with someone you enjoy spending time with without thinking every little thing over nonstop.

“So what’s your type?” Soobin asked so suddenly that you nearly choked on your water. Usually he’s not so forward with his questions so it caught you off guard. The two of you were at a small restaurant and it felt oddly like a date when he asked you things like this.

With an awkward clear of your throat, you said, “Um, I’m not sure if I have a type. The people I’ve been with in the past have all been a little different, I think.”

“What about looks?” Soobin asked, fidgeting with the hem of his sweater. He knows he’s an attractive guy but what if he still wasn’t your type?

You laughed softly, “I don’t know, Binnie, I like who I like.”

Soobin couldn’t help but blush, as he finally decided to ask, “What about me?”

You looked at him curiously, trying to decipher what he meant and when he couldn’t meet your gaze, you said, “You?”

“Am I your type?” He asked quietly. The server brought your meals which worked as a distraction to give you time to calm your beating heart and you took a deep breath.

It was hard to say because as of now… yes. You’ve always thought Soobin was attractive and kind and you’ve never actually dated someone like him so to say he’s your type is weird when you’re not sure if you even have one. You like Soobin, you know you do but what would it mean if you answer this question and what does he expect you to say?

“I think so,” you said shyly, looking down at your plate to avoid his gaze. Soobin resisted the urge to smile and ask you more about how you might feel for him.

He tried not to bring so much up while you had your late dinner and when the bill came, it became another topic of discussion.

“Soobin, you paid last time,” you said remembering the time you went to get hotpot last time, “Either I can pay or we can split the bill.”

“I asked you to come out with me,” Soobin said, getting his wallet out, “So I’m going to pay.”

“Binnie,” you said to him, watching him set money for the bill and a little extra for a tip before standing up, ready to leave. The server took the money and bid you both a goodnight.

“Y/n,” he used the same whiny voice you had, “Next time I’ll let you pay, I promise.”

Part of him wanted to reach for your hand as you left the restaurant but instead, he said, “I don’t want to go home yet.”

You have to admit, Soobin is really making your heart flutter in a very confusing way. You thought about taking his hand in yours and leading him toward the park across the street but you decided against it, unsure if it was something he wanted.

The night of the party when you held his hand, he made sure to not let it go even when you were on the bus but maybe it was just because he was drunk and not feeling good?

“So let’s go on a walk then,” you said, taking the reign to hold his hand, trying not to think about it.

Soobin smiled widely as he happily held yours, swinging them a little, “Y/n, I just want to say, you’re one of my best friends.”

He’s not sure he’s ever been able to call someone he’s dating his best friend. His past girlfriends never really cared to get to know him or have the same interests which wasn’t necessarily a problem but you’ve become his friend first and he thinks that’s what helped him develop feelings for you. You liked the same things, you enjoyed each other’s company and you never made him feel weird no matter what he did. He was being honest when he called you his best friend, it’s just that he wanted you to be more too.

“Who’s my competition?” You asked, waiting for him to say Taehyun or Yeonjun but he just shook his head, fixing your hands so your fingers were intertwined.

“You don’t have any,” Soobin shrugged, staring ahead at the path of street lamps, feeling a slight chill in the night air.

After a while the two of you decided to take a seat on a bench nearby, just under a streetlamp that casted down on it like a scene from a movie. You couldn’t help but shiver under the cold yet neither one of you brought up possibly going home—as if that would end the chances of spending time together.

Soobin felt you shivering beside him and without wasting too much time pondering, he scooted closer to you until his side was pressed to yours and provide you with much needed warmth. You looked at him with a teasing a smile, “So what you’re saying is, I’m actually your only best friend. I’m not sure if Taehyung or Yeonjuun would like that.”

He smiled cheekily, “I’m sure they wouldn’t mind, I don’t really keep it a secret that you’re my new favorite person.”

“Oh wow, what an honor. What did I do to deserve that?” You asked with a playful tone, trying to hide the way your face began to heat up.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, looking over at you with soft, moonlit eyes, “I’m still trying to figure that out too.”

You didn’t say anything for a moment, unsure what to even say and you just looked into each other’s eyes, wondering if you were thinking the same. You were so close now and it was getting very hard to ignore when you couldn’t look away from him. Soobin was hesitant for a long while, debating if he should just go for it.

There were a millón things running through your mind, some about kissing him, or not kissing. Wondering if you should cross the line or give him space. You turned to face him, lips parting, “I—“

It happened rather quickly, the brush of his lips against yours, and you hadn’t fully thought it through when you kissed him back. There was a sudden sense of bliss that caused him to relax into the short kiss, melting into you when your lips moved against his.

His fingers lingered on your thigh, itching to deepen the kiss with a hand in your hair. Just as he was going to reach out, you pulled away abruptly, nearly leaving him to follow and his eyes snapped awake, unaware when he closed them.

“I don’t know if this is a good idea,” You whispered so quietly he could barely hear you. It didn’t stop his heart from dropping with clarity, “Oh”

You were rejecting him, even if you kissed him too.

“Binnie, I just—I like you but,” You bit your lip nervously, ‘I don’t know if this is a good idea.”

“Oh,” he slumped back, giving you more space, “Why? Because we live together?”

“Yeah,” you sounded regretful, “And you haven’t been single for long and I just don’t want to be a, um…”

“You think it’ll be like a rebound?” Soobin asked with a small scoff, “Y/n, I… I wouldn’t do that to you, I want to try with you.”

“But, I don’t know, I just don’t want this to become a real thing, and it ends badly and we can’t talk anymore,” you confessed, “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay,” Soobin said, “I get it.”

He doesn’t.

Silence filled the space between you and neither one of you knew what to do about it. The awkwardness was already beginning to settle and he didn’t want that at all. A sorry smile spread across his lips, “You’re still my favorite person.”

A laugh left your lips, an ounce of worry disappearing but you still felt awful. You liked Soobin, and you were always such a sure person but when it comes to relationships you can be doubtful. You never know their full intentions and although Soobin is a really good guy but you haven’t known each other long and he was just in a relationship not that long ago.

After a while he asked if you should head home and the walk back was a bit quieter.

Honestly, you really did like Soobin. You never thought of him as anything more than a friend but not because you wanted to friendzone him but because you I never thought he saw you as anything but. Maybe you thought you would be the one rejected that you never thought about him romantically. He was attractive and you always knew so but you just seemed different at the time.

You were friendly, you talked nicely to each other and to only been a while since you started hanging around him. You assumed you were the only one feeling this way and its strange to learn that’s not true.

How would you have guessed he had feelings for you? Sure, he was nice from the getgo but it had always been casual. The only time e acted differently was when he was drunk and even then you assumed it was because he was too drunk to remember. Sheen he crawled into your bed after, it are your heart race but nothing happened between you two and it was never mentioned again. You grew to like him but you had no idea he would start liking you too.

It was a flaw in your character design, you think. You have no problem making decisions and being more confident and in control with it came to other things but for some reason when it comes to yourself, you’re doubtful. It’s easy for you to catch on to feelings when it comes to others but yourself.

That’s not to say you’ve never been in a relationship with someone but you’ve always just struggled reading how someone feels about you. Now you feel awful thinking you read Soobin’s intentions wrong but you couldn’t help it. You know what it feels like to be a rebound and its not a feeling you want to go through again.

The other person didn’t make you feel as good as your time with Soobin does and that’s what worried you. You’re also not in a spot to put your living situation at risk again. You had gotten so lucky to find him and f it goes bad between you, where would you go? You’re not as strong as Soobin. He could keep working with Jia and seeing her in public after what she did to him and be fine, but would you be able to live with him after? If he hurt you, or if you hurt him… could you handle it?

Lately, its not that you’ve been purposely avoiding him but ever since the kiss, your paths have barely passed. It seems like you both made an effort to interact at least once before and now that you’re not, its been boring.

When Soobin gets to the cafe, he couldn’t even think about having to work with Jia. She wasn’t in his mind anymore because all he could think about is you. You didn’t fully reject him and that’s what drives him insane.

“Hey Soob,” Taehyung said as he watched his friend walked past him with a somber expression, completely ignoring him.

You like him. You said you liked him, right? So why can’t you just give him a chance?

His mind felt a million miles away as he slipped up on his apron, tying it over his baggy shirt and sweats. Soobin was unaware of the stares his coworkers sent him as he found his job for the day and busied himself with it.

“You’re quieter than usual,” Jia pointed out toward the end of their shift, “Did something happen?”

Her voice was laced with feigned concern and that only bother him more. Why does she bother pretending like she cares about him?

“Nothing that you have to worry about,” Soobin mumbled more to himself than her but she heard him anyway. He wouldn’t tell her about you and how you somewhat rejected him, instead he looked at the time wishing Taehyun could’ve just stayed till close with him and Jia.

“Soobin,” Jia’s voice was soft, coming over to where he was wiping down tables and chairs, “I know you and I aren’t as close as we used to be but… I really do care about you.”

A small scoff left his lips that he wasn’t able to hide as much as before and he turned away, ready to leave her behind so he could be alone.

“Does it have anything to do with that girl?” She asked closer to close when there wasn’t a single customer in sight and the sign had already been flipped.

Soobin couldn’t help but release a sigh in frustration as he looked at her, “Jia, why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?” She asked with furrowed brows.

“Why are you acting like you all of a sudden care? Can’t we just work without talking and then go home?” Soobin asked, clearly annoyed and not in the mood for her.

He’s kept his mouth shut ever since they broke up and he’s never asked her to explain anything or to apologize so why doesn’t she just let it go. He’s been biting his tongue because he didn’t want to seem bitter that she cheated on him but at this point he doesn’t care. He has other things to worry about then listening to his ex girlfriend try and act like everything is okay between them.

“Soobin, I’m sorry,” Jia confessed watching as he walked past her to the front door already holding the key to lock the shop for the night, “I know I probably hurt you and what I did was unforgivable but can you please just give me one more chance. I—I don’t like thinking you hate me.”

“Jia, I don’t hate you,” Soobin told her honestly as they stood outside and he can see the way she got hope in her eyes, making him keep explaining, “And I can work with you because I have to but I’m not going to forgive you.”

It felt strange being so honest after acting unaffected for a while but it was the truth and he needed to get it out, “You cheated on me, don’t you get that?”

“I know bu—“

“No, you clearly don’t know because since you saw me and Y/n get closer all you’ve wanted to do is talk to me. It’s not because you still want me but because you know you fucked up and don’t want me to move on with anyone else,” Soobin said harshly, “Do you realize how frustrating it is to want to be with someone and everyone thinks you’re not over your cheating ex girlfriend?”

Jia looked like she wanted to say something but the words were caught in her throat, so Soobin continued, “You slept with someone I lived with behind my back and in my own home and you think apologizing and asking for one more chance is going to work?”

She was frozen, unsure what to say or if she should say anything at all. Of course he’s right and she was only wishing that things could change but she knows that she fucked up. Being with Soobin had been great, he was sweet and caring and she wanted more so she looked for more in a guy who doesn’t mean a thing to either one of them.

It had always felt like Soobin didn’t love her, like he only dealt with her because they were dating and even then it felt like she pushed him to it. He never got upset with her, even when he caught her cheating, he was just quiet and listened to her apologies over and over again. All he did was ask them both to leave and that was it. When he still went to work at the cafe she hoped it was a sign that he would forgive her if he could still stand being around her but then you came along and she could see the way Soobin’s face began to light up.

From the get-go, she feels like you were able to draw more out from him than she ever was and that really did annoy her. She’s not putting the blame on him for her cheating but why couldn’t he show more with her as he had with you and why is it too late now?

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly, close to tears but it was obvious Soobin didn’t care anymore.

“Have a good night, Jia,” he sighed, leaving her behind as he went to the bus stop.

He likes you, you’re all he’s been able to think about and he can’t stand knowing you doubt his intentions. Soobin has never been the type to use someone for his own gain and even that night of the party he forgot you went with him so he wouldn’t be alone knowing Jia was there. Once he had you with him, he didn’t care who was around. All he cared about was you and he needs you to know that.

When he got home, he was surprised to see you coming out of your bedroom right as he walked through the front door. You looked over at him, nervous and unsure what to say or if you should say anything at all. You weren’t sure if he was still upset with you or if he was ever really upset by what you said.

“Hey,” you said shyly, walking toward the kitchen where you were returning a bowl.

“Hey,” Soobin set his things, debating if he should go to his room or just try with you one more time.

Now that he’s told Jia how he feels about her still trying with him, he feels more confident to tell you exactly what it is he wants with you. He doesn’t want a rebound, he doesn’t care about his last relationship, he cares about getting to know you and kissing you more.

“Were you just at work?” You asked, trying to make some conversation, see if you could read how he might feel with you.

“Yeah,” Soobin joined you in the kitchen, “I had to close with Jia.”

You turned away from the counter, jumping slightly at how close he was behind you suddenly, “And how was that?”

“Well she apologized and asked for a second chance,” Soobin said, looking down at you, so close that his front nearly brushed against yours. You raised a brow in surprise that Jia had the nerve to ask for another chance but you wondered if Soobin was bringing this up because he planned on giving it to her.

“Oh?” You said, unsure what he was planning on saying next.

Soobin bit his lip, not shying away from your stare like he normally would, “So I told her that it was never going to happen because I’ve moved on and I like you and I don’t want you to think I’m using you or still not over my ex because I’m so over her, you don’t understand. The night of the party was one of the first nights I realized how much I like you and it’s taken me a while to admit it because I wanted to be sure.”

You blinked in surprise as he moved even closer, “And I know you kind of rejected me the other night but I also know you like me too so if you just give me one chance, I swear I’ll be the best boy you’ve ever been with and I have no intentions of just being with you as some rebound. You mean so much more to me and I should’ve told you that the other night but Y/n, I really want to be with you and no one else.”

With a small sigh, you leaned onto the counter behind you and nodded, “I want to be with you too, Binnie, but…”

He couldn’t hold back the smile on his face as he reached forward, cupping your face in his hands, “Y/n, just give me a chance.”

“I—okay,” you laughed softly and with that, he was leaning down, pressing his lips to yours gently.

Your eyes fell shut, reaching out to touch him when he moved closer, pushing you against the counter with no room to go anywhere. A small gasp left your lips in surprise and it gave him a chance to deepen the kiss with his tongue.

“Soobin,” you laughed in shock as he pulled back in an attempt to catch his breath, “That was unexpected, different from the last kiss.”

His hands were resting on the counter, trapping you between them, he was leaning downuntil he could leave tender kisses along your neck, “I’m sorry, I… it was sudden and last time you wanted to stop.”

He was panting softly, eyes squeezed shut as he tried to take a deep breath, “Do you want to stop again?”

You looked into his eyes, “Not really.”

That was all he needed to hear before leaning back down for a kiss, this time sliding his hands down to your waist, grounding himself to the reality of this all. Your hands went to his soft black hair, brushed it out of his face and kissed him feverishly.

Soobin’s lips parted against yours, a sigh of relief escaped as he tilted his head to the side. You were a bit surprised by his forwardness once again that when his tongue trailed along your lower lip as if asking for permission, all you could was grant it. Your tongues met smoothly, circling around each other, before pulling back to his lips on your bottom one. Was he such a good kisser last time?

The more he seemed to lean forward and close the nonexistent gap between you, the more you leaned back with need, never once pulling your mouth away from his. With an annoyed huff at your attempt to lean back, he found himself tightening his grip on your waist before pulling you onto the counter making you gasp, “Bi—“

The near call of his nickname made him groan into your mouth, he kissed you with frenzy, like soon you would change your mind and everything would stop.

A small laugh escaped your lips at his eagerness, not shying away from wrapping your legs around his waist as he sat you down on the peninsula countertop. You brought a hand down to the cold marble, trying to steady yourself when he kissed along your jaw, then your neck leaving small red marks where he nipped at.

“Y/n,” Soobin’s voice caught you by surprise, his usual tone was deeper and hoarse with need as he pulled away from kissing you. His hands remained on your waist, his thumbs underneath the thin fabric of your shirt, inching it up just slightly, “One chance.”

“That’s all it’s gonna take,” he mumbled with swollen lips as he looked down at your lap, the material of your leggings not threatening and you could feel his hands slide down till they were at the hem of your leggings.

His gaze was darkened and you were admittedly incredibly turned on by this new side of him. It’s not like you expected him to suddenly take the lead so heavily but you can’t say you hated it. It’s different that what you’re used to from him and it makes you think back to the night of your first kiss. Should you have said yes all along? Would you have ever gotten to see this side of him where he felt the need to express just how much he wants to be with you?

Your eyes locked with his as he slowly began to pull down the material of your pants, lifting your hips slightly as he let them slide down. It’s like he was still waiting for you to tell him stop but with the parting of your legs and the way you guided him down to his knees, it was clear to him you wanted this just as bad.

Soobin started with gentle kisses along your thighs, neither you caring that you were doing this in your kitchen, it only seemed to fuel the heat in his stomach that you were alone. You licked your lips with anticipation, eyes dropping with need at the way he pulled your legs over his shoulders swiftly, looking down at your covered heat with a cute sort of curiosity.

He could see through the thin fabric how turned on you had gotten from the kiss. He can make out the shape of your slit and there was a slight dampness where your entrance would be and it made him feel so much bitter about the growing bulge in his jeans. With eager fingers, he pulled the fabric down, unable to help himself from teasing your heat with his nose tip, “Y/n.”

Your name fell from his lips so prettily that you nearly missed the urgency in it until you were looking at him, looking down at your cunt until finally, he leaned in. A sigh in content escaped you as he placed a soft kiss along your folds, teasing you by avoiding your hardened clit. His hands which held your legs apart were so far up your thighs you could feel the shadow of them against your core and it felt good to be grabbed by him. You never noticed just how big his hands were, or how good he could possibly be with his mouth.

After the light teasing he did with your folds, he licked softly against your clit before pulling it into his mouth, sucking gently making you moan for the first time. Soobin’s eyes immediately went to your face as he swirled his tongue around your clit, lathering it in his drool as he watched your face contort in pleasure making him throb in his jeans uncomfortably.

With one hand on the counter for support, your other hand went to his hair, pulling him closer between your legs and you could feel one of his hands unravel from your thigh and come up to your cunt. You could feel the tip of his middle finger dip into your folds, collecting whatever slick your pussy let out when he sucked on your clit and ever so gently, he pushed a finger in.

“You’re so pretty,” he sighed, attempting to catch his breath as he let his finger do some of the work. He rested his cheek against the softness of your thigh while beginning to thrust his middle finger into your wet pussy, “So fucking pretty, Y/n.”

With a deep groan, he went back to your clit, letting his middle finger hook into your g-spot while he mouthed at your clit, costing it in spit while fucking you with his finger. Your hand in his hair never let up, you used it for support, unable to keep your moans down, “Binnie.”

He felt the way you fluttered around him and it only made him put in more effort to bring you to your edge—and not just on the counter. He was nearly on his knees and his legs were beginning to cramp, his cock was getting heavy in its confinement but he didn’t let up. Instead, he let his mouth glide over your wet cunt leaving open mouth kisses in its wake.

“Oh god,” you whined softly as you felt a second finger push into your heat and a few seconds of this had your thighs threatening to shut, feeling the familiar knot in the pit of your stomach, “Your mouth feels so good.”

“Cum for me then, baby,” the words slipped from his lips without thought but for some reason those were the exact words you needed to hear. He felt your release on his tongue a short moment after he spoke and your folds throbbed with please around him.

“That’s it,” he groaned, watching your juice drop around his fingers, gently pulling them away and letting you relax post orgasm.

You looked at him with a new sense of attraction, why was he so confident in bed? Soobin’s cheeks flushed red as he looked down at the mess you made on the counter but his dick loved the sight of your release dripping down on the counter. It was an easy clean up and it was hot, so fucking hot.

Without much thought put into it, Soobin raised his soaked fingers to his lips, humming softly at the taste of your essence. A bunny-like grin spread across his face as he couldn’t help but laugh, “You know we’re not done, right?”

Despite the last couple moments where he’s initiated intimacy, he didn’t wait for permission. He was letting you know he wasn’t done with you yet and that made it all the better when he pulled you into his arms, not caring that you were half naked and taking you toward his bedroom.

He set you down on his bed gently, looking down at you as he yanked off his shirt exposing a lean body of muscle you hadn’t expected.

Soobin isn’t the type to show off his body, he liked more loose fitting clothes and whenever he’s complimented on his physique he always gets shy. Whenever he leaves his room or he knows you’re home he makes sure to be fully dressed and he’s kept himself a secret from you out of nervousness that you might get uncomfortable. Now that your eyes are on his toned stomach, all he could think about is how he wished you’d seen him sooner—if he knew you would look at him like this.

Seeing him undress before you, taking his jeans off next followed by his briefs left you with your lip pulled between your teeth. You now knew why he looked so sweaty early in the mornings, he went to the gym at dawn while you slept in.

You sat up and pulled your shirt off, careful to undo your bra as you felt the bed dip down with his weight and he crawled toward you, helping you throw your things down before pushing you to lay down.

“Condom?” You ask, making him look at you with a sense of curiosity. He knew what you were asking and he of course would oblige but as he looked down at your naked bodies and the way his hard cock pressed against your head, he couldn’t help but let his mind go astray. He just couldn’t believe this was actually happening.

You let Soobin get up as he leaned over his nightstand, praying to the universe that he had a condom somewhere about. It’s obvious he hasn’t had sex in a good long while but he’s just hoping the universe is on his side and he can find one.

After a moment of searching, his heart raced, moved back between your legs and kissed you hungrily. You took the condom from his hands, ripped the wrapper off and searched down his toned abdomen till you found his stiff member. Although you haven’t gotten a good look at it, it had a weight to it and good girth that you couldn’t help but write with need.

Soobin didn’t hesitate to himself up with your entrance when you got the condom on and as gentler as ever, he pushed in. A low growl left his lips as your walls hugged him tightly and he couldn’t help but let his strength falter, nearly crushing you with his weight at the pleasure.

"Mmm," he groans into your neck, his body pressed against yours as he pulled out slowly, taking a moan to let you feel his big mushroom tip against your ring of nerves. Once he needed more, he pushed back in with a bit more force.

“Soobin,” you moaned, letting your head fall back into to the pillows as his hips began a steady pace of thrusting into you, "Oh… fuck."

He brushed his lips against yours, fucking you with his big cock, basking in the feel of your pussy around him, “So wet, bub.”

His voice had softened even if his thrusts grew rougher, “You feel so good around me.”

Soobin couldn’t help but be close and he was awfully pathetic for it. In his defense, he had just made out with a girl he was crushing on for the past hour. Add on how he ate your pussy in the kitchen [of all places] he felt it was only human of him to be so close to cumming despite barely fucking you.

With a deep grunt, he snuck his hand under your arched back pulling you off the bed and a quiet squeal left your lips. You moved your legs to hug his waist and cling to him when he sat you down on his thighs, cock still deep in your pussy. Soobin’s hands founded their way to the softness of your ass, pinching softly at the way you basically cock warmed him and it took him a moment to raise you up, and pull you back to take him all.

“Please Y/n,” he groaned, grinding your pussy on his dick, “Just say you want to be with me already, fuck. I just want to hear you say it.”

Pure bliss was evident on his face and your usual cute Soobin was replaced by a feral, dark and lustful Soobin you weren’t used to. His hair was sweaty and voice so deep that you couldn’t help but succumb to his advances.

He hugged your body to his and you began to bounce on his lap, kissing his neck and letting your hands trace down his chest feeling his nipples harden, “I want to be with you, Binnie.”

“Fuck,” he groaned, “I’m gonna cum.”

His eyes squeezed shut urging every muscle in his body to hold back from cumming first but he couldn’t. A shiver ran down his body as he felt the knot in his stomach come undone, his cock shooting thick spurts of cum into the condom, trembling underneath you.

“Fuck,” his voice was dry, urging you to keep riding his cock, “Keep going.”

“Bin—“ you moaned, hearing the desperation in his voice and did as you were told. It didn’t take long for you to let go, cumming in his arms as he whispered how good you felt around him.

As gentle as ever, he set you back on the bed, collapsing on top of you in a sweaty mess that had you groaning.

“Sticky,” you mumbled, “I feel sticky.”

Soobin looked down at you and the mess the two of you made of each other, blinking with confusion on how things had escalated so quickly. Did he do that?

“Sorry,” he pouted, “Do you want to get cleaned up?”

“I think so,” you giggled softly as he reluctantly let you sit up, “How about I meet you back here in a minute?”

Soobin couldn’t think of anything to say and with a silent nod, he let you gather your things and leave.

You weren’t trying to ditch him but you needed to freshen up at least a little bit.

He thought about waiting for you in his bed after he cleaned up after himself but after a while he began to overthink it. Would you actually come back? He understands you’re just a wall away but the distance seemed so far now that he couldn’t help but get up and dressed, following you out his bedroom.

In the process of heading to your room, he stopped in the kitchen to clean up the mess as best as he could for the moment. A soft hum left his lips as he did so and when his eyes landed on a thin piece of lace fabric, he blinked curiously.

With a someone innocent look in his eyes, Soobin picked up your underwear, biting down on his bottom lip to stop a mischievous smile from growing before he shoved them in the pocket of his sweats, unsure what he would do with them later on. A giddy smile plastered his face, dimples on display as he walked toward your room, hearing the water run and he laid in your bed.

“Now, I thought I said I would be back in a minute,” you laughed softly when you came out your bathroom and Soobin just cutely snuggled himself deeper between your sheets and pillows.

“It was too long,” Soobin said as he lifted your bed covers, “Come lay down.”

“I gotta clean out th—“

“I already did,” Soobin whined when you tried walking past him on the bed and with a gentle pull on your wrist, he was leading you onto the bed.

“Did you?” You asked, letting him pull you down until you were laying down next to him, feeling him snuggle into you with his face against your breasts.

“Mhm,” he hummed, his interest caught on the softness of your chest—a place he had neglected when he knew damn well he shouldn’t have.

“Binnie,” you warned when you felt nuzzle into your breasts, squirming against your side, “It’s late already.”

“I know, but your bed… it’s so soft,” he clearly didn’t mean the bed and he thought he was just being a sly bunny, “And you said you would be with me now. Don’t kick me out.”

You could already feel his print press against your thigh, a clear sign that he was getting turned on all over and it was obvious he skipped over wearing anything under his sweats.

A gasp left his lips when he felt your hand palm his erection lightly and unexpectedly, saying to him, “Well, I guess my bed hasn’t been broke into yet.”

Soobin’s hand clutched yours tightly, following you so close that he almost stepped on the back of your shoes everytime you walked. The bar was packed with people and it made his anxiety spike up a bit and feeling your hand in his made him feel slightly better.

“Now don’t get too drunk tonight,” Taehyun said with a laugh as he trailed after you two. Soobin just glared at him, letting you take the lead to order the drinks, eyeing the bartender who was a little too nice to you.

“I don’t plan on drinking too much if he’s the bartender all night,” Soobin mumbled under his breath, hearing the way the bartender talked to you compared to the others. You didn’t pay him any mind but Soobin was watching him too closely that it made Taehyun laugh.

“Relax buddy, you already got Y/n and I don’t think she’s going anywhere,” Taehyun said looking around the bar, waving down Yeonjun who had been search for them all night. Even if your attention was on the bartender, you still held Soobin’s hand, beating him to it when he offered to pay.

“You paid the last two times we went out,” you told him, handing everyone their drink but Soobin was whining.

“But I like paying for you, Taehyun and Yeonjun have their own money,” Soobin said, turning to his friends with a scowl, “Don’t spoil them, only me if you do things like this.”

You laughed, feeling his arm circle around your waist, “It’s okay, come on, my friends are around here somewhere.”

“Hurry up before I puke,” Yeonjun groaned, reminding Soobin that he wasn’t alone with you at home and it made him shy, hiding behind you as you lead the way.

“Wow, Y/n, I didn’t know you were so rizz!” A loud voice yelled out from your side before you were being pummeled back a few steps with large arms around you, jumping excitedly.

“Whoa, rizz!” Beomgyu shouted equally as annoying, making you groan. Soobin smiled nervously as he looked back to his friends who looked just as confused as him. He felt awkward seeing you being hugged by two guys but he tried to ignore it knowing they were just your friends.

“Binnie this is Kai and that’s Beomgyu,” you told him before looking at your friends, “Guys this is Soobin, my boyfriend.”

His dimples showed through and he couldn’t help but smile widely as you addressed him. When you joined his side against he was quick to reach for you, more happy now that you’ve called him that.

“Hello,” Beomgyu stood straight and brought a hand to his forehead as if in salute, “This is our first formal meeting.”

Kai nodded as he took your drink in his own hands, “Yeah, we would have said hi to you when we went to the cafe but Y/n wouldn’t let us because she didn’t want you to know she had a big fat mega obtuse crush on you.”

“Oh my god,” you rolled your eyes at him, “It wasn’t like I was obsessed. I was just, yknow, curious.”

Taehyun put a hand on Soobin’s shoulder, “You see? Y/n liked you then too.”

You spent the night either sitting on Soobin’s lap or dancing with him when he asked you to, and when you went home, he jumped in your bed like he’s been doing since the first night.

… THE END, okay I’m out of text boxes but basically sorry it took my so long to finally drop a Soobin fic but hopefully the length of this makes up for it 😭after drafting a story, hating it, drafting a new story, hating it and repeating the cycle for months, I finally got one finish. please interact and lmk what you thinks… it’s kinda a mess but I tried 🤒

[leona-hawthorne]

congrats on 1k!! i’m so happy for you !! tbh i’ve read your stuff for awhile now but i’ve always been so scared to reblog etc 😭😭

and your 1k celebration is also so unique omg? 🙏🙏

But for the book browsing, i think smut with the quotes/prompts: “if you fuck me the way you fuck me up emotionally, i think you’d do a pretty damn good job at it.” and “i hate you.” “do you? because you definitely don’t hold someone’s hand while fucking if you hate them.”

with the enemies to lovers trope with Mattheo would be so cute 😭😭🙏

hi hi hi!!! thank you for being the first to request for this ml, i appreciate you 🤍 💌 and please don't be afraid to reblog!! i can promise you that its one of the things that make me the happiest 😚 hope you enjoy this, i tried so hard to keep it short but i just couldn't help myself and now its 1.8k sorry!!

1k celebration navigation

HANDS OFF… book browsing

18+ MATTHEO RIDDLE

The party pulsed around you, vibrant and loud, the air thick with laughter, the scent of smoke, and the sweet tang of alcohol. You leaned against the wall, drink in hand, observing the chaos unfolding before you. But none of it held your interest. Your gaze was drawn to Mattheo Riddle, who stood across the room, surrounded by a throng of admirers, his cocky grin flashing like a neon sign.

You hated him.

He caught your eye, his smirk deepening as he raised his cup in mock salute. Blood boiled under your skin, a mixture of frustration and something more primal that you refused to acknowledge. 

You hadn’t even wanted to come to this damn party, but somehow, like fate playing a sick joke, you’d found yourself here anyway. The loud music was almost as intoxicating as the firewhiskey in your hand and it was only when you turned to head for another drink that you nearly crashed right into him.

“Watch it,” he muttered, eyes already narrowing as he recognized you. His sneer was familiar, laced with that unmistakable disdain he seemed to reserve just for you.

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, please. You’re the one who walked into me, Riddle.”

“Maybe if you paid attention instead of sulking in corners, you’d know how to avoid bumping into people.”

You raised your eyebrows at his words as your cheeks flushed from the alcohol, a defiant spark in your eyes.

"Or maybe," you said, voice steady despite the heat rising within you, "if you weren't so busy preening like some fucking peacock, you'd have noticed me sooner."

The tension between you was palpable, a tangible thing that filled the space around you. It wasn't often that you allowed yourself to be this confrontational with him—after all, you knew better than most what kind of trouble that could lead to. But tonight, you didn't care.

"So, Riddle," you continued, leaning closer until your faces were mere inches apart, "why don't you just go back to your adoring fans? I'm sure they miss you."

Mattheo chuckled darkly, the sound low and dangerous as he leaned in closer to you. "Jealous?" he asked, his breath hot against your cheek.

"You wish," you scoffed, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickened at his proximity. "I couldn't care less about your little fan club."

Mattheo's lips curved into a wicked smile, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Could've fooled me," he murmured, his fingers finding your arm and tracing a gentle line up it.

You swallowed hard, your mouth suddenly dry. 

"Get your hands off me, Riddle," you bit out, even as a shiver ran down your spine at his touch. The heat of his palm seeped through the thin fabric of your dress, sending sparks of electricity dancing along your skin.

But before you could pull away, he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "Off? Or would you rather I put them somewhere else?"

His words sent a jolt straight to your core, and you felt your knees weaken slightly. What the hell was wrong with you? This was Mattheo Riddle, the enemy, the arrogant prick who always managed to get under your skin. And yet...

"No," you breathed, even as your body betrayed you, pressing closer to his. "Just...back off."

Mattheo pulled back slightly, his eyes gleaming with amusement as he studied your face. "So feisty tonight," he purred, running a finger along your jawline. "I like it."

His touch was electric, sending tingles racing down your spine. You tried to shake off the sensation, but it was no use. Underneath the layers of animosity and distrust, there was something else brewing—a simmering attraction that neither of you dared to acknowledge.

"We're drunk," you accused, trying to sound stern even as your body craved more of his touch. "And you’re high on your own ego. That's all this is."

Mattheo chuckled, the sound low and seductive. "Is that what you tell yourself?" He leaned in closer, his breath fanning over your lips. "Because I think we both know it's not true."

"Fuck you," you spat, even as your resolve crumbled under the weight of his presence. Your hands clenched into fists at your sides, nails digging into your palms.

But then, without warning, you surged forward, capturing his lips in a bruising kiss. It was angry and desperate, all teeth and tongue as you poured every ounce of pent-up frustration into the embrace.

Mattheo groaned in surprise before melting into the kiss, his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you flush against him. The world fell away, leaving nothing but the two of you, lost in a haze of desire and hatred.

Breaking the kiss, he nipped at your lower lip before growling, "You want to play rough, huh? Fine by me."

His lips found yours again with a force that was strong enough to bruise. His hands slid down to grip your ass, squeezing roughly as he deepened the kiss. He tasted like whiskey and sin, his tongue dueling with yours in a passionate dance that left you breathless.

In a swift move, he spun you around and pinned you against the wall, his body caging you in as he attacked your neck with kisses and bites.

"Strange how something so hateful could taste so sweet," he rasped, his fingers digging into your hips. "You're a fucking wildfire," he growled against your throat, his clothed hardness pressing insistently against your stomach. 

Despite the anger still simmering beneath the surface, you couldn't deny the thrill of being so completely consumed by him. It was exhilarating and terrifying all at once.

When he finally broke away, you were both panting, chests heaving. "You know, if you can fuck me the way you fuck me up emotionally," he muttered, "I think you'd do a pretty damn good job at it."

With that, he grabbed your hand and dragged you towards the staircase leading up to the dormitories. You stumbled after him, barely registering the looks from the other students as you passed.

It wasn't long before you were basked in the privacy of his dorm, buried in his sheets with his cock lodged between your folds. The room was dimly lit, shadows dancing across the walls as you moved together in a frenzied rhythm. Mattheo's hands roamed your body, gripping your thighs, squeezing your tits, tangling in your hair.

"You're so tight," he grunted, thrusting deeper. "Fucking perfect."

You arched into him, meeting each stroke with a roll of your hips. The friction was intense, bordering on painful, but you reveled in the pleasure-pain mix. It was raw, primal, everything you'd ever wanted from him.

Suddenly you needed to touch him, to anchor yourself to something real amidst the storm of sensations. Your hand groped blindly until it found his, grasping it like a lifeline. Mattheo's fingers entwined with yours, giving a reassuring squeeze. He brought your joined hands above your head, pinning you even more firmly as he increased the tempo. 

"Fuck," you cried out, reveling in the feeling of utter control he had over you, even if for this one glorious night. Your nails dug into the backs of his palms as he met your passion with a fire and fury of his own, two volatile elements colliding in an inferno.

"Oh god, oh god, oh—!" you choked out, your voice cracking as the orgasm built inside you like a storm about to break.

Mattheo's grip on your hip tightened, his movements becoming erratic as he chased his own release. "Come on, baby, give it to me," he urged, his breath hot against your ear. "Scream my name."

The command shattered what remained of your control. With a ragged cry, you came undone, convulsing around him as wave after wave of ecstasy washed over you. Mattheo followed soon after, his moans muffled by your shoulder as he spilled himself onto the skin of your stomach.

As the pleasure faded, Mattheo collapsed beside you, his chest heaving. For a moment, you simply lay there, staring at the ceiling as reality slowly seeped back in. What had you done?

Rolling onto his side, Mattheo propped himself up on one elbow, studying your face with an unreadable expression. "That was...something else," he murmured, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

You flinched at the gentle gesture, suddenly feeling exposed and vulnerable. "Don't," you whispered, averting your gaze. "This doesn't change anything between us."

Mattheo sighed, dropping his hand. "No, I suppose it doesn't." He sat up, running a hand through his disheveled hair.

Despite the lingering tension, exhaustion eventually won out. Mattheo settled back against the pillows, closing his eyes as sleep claimed him. You watched him for a moment, noticing the way his lashes fanned out against his cheeks, the curve of his lips in repose.

Slowly, reluctantly, you turned onto your side facing away from him, drawing the covers up to your chin. You felt his arm slide around your waist, pulling you closer, but you resisted, maintaining a barrier of space between you.

As you drifted off, you knew this fragile truce wouldn't last. But for now, in the quiet darkness of his dormitory, you allowed yourself a brief respite from the war raging within you. Tomorrow, you would pick up the fight where you left off. Tonight, you just slept.

Morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. You stirred awake, momentarily disoriented by the unfamiliar surroundings. Then memory came flooding back—the argument, the makeout, the sex.

Shit.

You slipped out of bed carefully, trying not to disturb him. As you pulled up your panties, Mattheo began to stir. "Where are you off to in such a hurry?" he mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

"I have to go," you said quietly, keeping your back to him as you shimmied back into your dress. "Last night was a mistake. It shouldn't have happened."

There was a pause, then the rustle of sheets as Mattheo sat up. "A mistake? Is that really how you feel?"

You stood by the door, slipping on your shoes as you avoided looking directly at Mattheo. "Of course, it is," you replied flatly, your voice devoid of emotion. "I hate you, remember?"

With that, you grabbed your bag and made a hasty walk to the door, but just as you were about to twist the doorknob, he spoke, his voice low and smug.

"Do you? Because you definitely don't hold someone's hand while fucking if you hate them.”

Your heart pounded in your ears as you whipped around to glare at him, but you bit back the retort on your tongue. With a huff, you snatched open the door and stormed out into the hallway.

Once safely in the empty hallway, you leaned back against the wall, heart racing. A small, secret smile tugged at your lips despite yourself. Damn him.

[stormgardenscurse]

guys don't like me...

Summary: They’re your best friends! But some of the people (NPCs) crushing on you beg to differ, and are starting to hate seeing the guys flaunt their closeness with you.

Characters: Ace, Epel, Deuce, Cater, Leona

Ace

He’s someone that does this on purpose. It started with dropping in randomly while you were hanging out with other people. Ace picked up on their jealous stares whenever he stood a bit too close to you or laughed at his jokes.

It’s the way you visibly look more comfortable once he’s arrived, because with Ace there you feel less of a need to uphold politeness or conversation-carrying; his personality draws eyes to him instead. And then the one he’s talking to and looking at is you, but despite how that should make you feel put on the spot, it doesn’t. 

Ace dances between aggravating them on purpose and feigning ignorance. He glances at the others when you’re not looking before sporting a smile to ask if you’d go to his basketball match next week. You sigh and say of course you will, ruffling his hair so as to get rid of his smug grin. If Ace doesn’t win, then dinner’s on him. He agrees, happy to leave the room now that he’s left a mark on the conversation. The other students’ moods have dropped, but you don’t know why.

Ace is also the type to be casually touchy, to the point where strangers ask if you’re together - to which he offhandedly says ‘nope!’ only to share your drink (indirect kiss) and receive odd (and some frustrated) looks in the next minute. 

What, is this not normal? Color him flattered that you’re so lenient with him then! (Big faker, horrible horrible)

Epel

Another one that knows exactly what he’s doing, but what else should Epel do when people are eyeing you when he’s also hoping to confess as well? It’s only natural for him to take advantage of his circumstances - he’s already closer to you than they are, and frankly, while he feels bad at the way they deflate when he enters the room and your eyes immediately catch his, Epel feels a sense of pride from how charmed you are by him. It’s like seeing a garden of flowers lean towards the Sun for its attention, only to find that the sunlight has a favorite.

As jealous people sometimes do, his competitors try to subtly mention that Epel is quite cute for a boy, only for him to drop in (he wasn’t eavesdropping, just passing by) and invite you on a magic-wheel joyride. Your evident familiarity with this side of him only throws the others into confusion, and if they challenge Epel to a race, then… he can only accept it and beat them fair and square, no? 

Slightly reckless but also very well-versed (to your worry) with going at high speeds, Epel wipes the floor with them. As to why you’re not a fan of this, it’s because he suggested you sit behind him to ensure he doesn’t cheat! (He’s doing this on purpose of course, but despite your comments of “you’re trying to kill me” you comply, which only strengthens his resolve as you wrap your arms around him to hold on for dear life.)

Deuce

(the NPCs are your friends from outside of school/your hometown! Implied that you and Deuce live fairly close to one-another)

He’s just a nice guy! A guy you think to rely on when you’re in trouble because there’s no one else as genuine and willing to help, in your book. And also the person you dare to open up about your struggles too, if only because Deuce Spade is no stranger to goals that seem unreachable at the moment - like every time you try to climb higher, the earth loosens and slips from beneath your feet and tests your strength.

If he ever hears the other students telling you that he’s a magnet for trouble, Deuce almost slips into self doubt before seeing the look on your face; the obvious disagreement, the hint of offense taken just at the idea. It makes him happy that you have his back even when he’s not around, but a part of Deuce didn’t want to be a wedge between you and your other friends either.

Their complaints soon die however when Deuce’s goodness manifests in a way no one can deny (not anyone with a conscience, at least). When you texted him and mentioned you forgot some ingredients for hotpot when your friends were over at your house, half an hour later there’s a knock on your door because Deuce has run over from his place with said ingredients, saying he had extra at home (“it’s going to expire soon, just take it, don’t worry”), and in a swell of emotion you almost burst into tears at the gesture (Deuce is the only one ever).

Cater

Who’s that guy that always tags you on Magicam? Cater likes being able to see his presence on your profile - it makes him feel more supported on the vast social media sites and quick-moving trends. Whenever you comment on his posts, a smile reaches his face at the sight of a comment that actually knows the context behind the pictures.

So of course, his jealous competitors are quick to ask you about your relationship with Cater. Were you dating? If not, why was he so clingy to you?

You never thought of Cater as clingy per se. Sure, he likes to throw his arm around your shoulder and give you celebratory hugs when something good happens, and texts you a lot - but that’s just how he shows affection in general, you tell them. He’s just a really good friend, and in your head you think that a part of you also relies on his cheeriness to keep your mood up. He always seems to be keeping the energy fun for the sake of others, that you wonder if he gets bored when you both just do nothing at his dorm, flipping through your feeds and doing meaningless quizzes about your personality type.

And then you recall how Cater always asks you for your results, comparing it to his as he leans his shoulder against yours to get a better look at your screen. 

Does he know he treats you different? Maybe. But that’s for him to cling to as long as he can, before Cater has to fess up to his own emotions.

Leona

A mix of intimidation and annoyance is what your admirers tend to feel, whenever you’re with Leona.

You’re one of the only people that can approach him with a smile and ask the randomest things without fear of being shut down, and Leona simply regards you with a sway of his tail and comments here and there. If you’re feeling talkative, you strike a back and forth with him, engrossed in a conversation that onlookers can’t particularly intercept.

More annoying however, is when Leona knows they’re seething inside and just annoys them more by asking you if you could do something for him, like getting him food from the cafeteria. The goal wasn’t to make you run an errand, but have you ask him to go with you instead and buy it together. And with a purposeful act, Leona ‘reluctantly’ leaves his napping spot to be dragged away by you, hand pulling him lightly by the wrist or end of his sleeve.

Sometimes, you’re seen picking up an extra lunch while in the cafeteria line, thinking that you could save Ruggie some trouble by visiting Leona at the greenhouse yourself. Did you realize how much you were spoiling him? Leona says yes, though this awareness might be buried under several layers of him just being ‘a good senpai’ to hang out with. With time, he’ll make his stance clear though. No amount of daftness can ignore Leona when he wants to tell you something, after all.

[nemesyaaa]

S2!rafe cameron x kook!drug dealer! reader

summary ; so....reader's snorting a line of coke on rafe's dick, and rafe taking pill of ecstasy on reader's pussy...just two losers getting high together (2k3 words.)

warnings : mentions and using of drugs. smut (without real plot.). oral (f. receiving). minors dni.

"so why did you call me? need me for somethin’?"

“ oh please, you’re the one that needs something, when have i needed you for anything?“ after all, you were the dealer, and it was your client so you were right. “ and if you didn’t want to hear from me, you probably shouldn’t have given me your number?”

“ so what, you're just bored ? ”

“ i have something for you. ”

you shook your head, sitting comfortably on the edge of your bed. with one hand, you waved a bag with colorful tablets inside in front of him with a smile falling on your lips.

rafe's eyes lit up, as if suddenly your call was worth it.

“ it’s kinda sad that your face only lights up like that when you’re about to take drugs. ” you rolled your gaze, realizing that you now had his full attention. "you want it? of course, you do. we all know rafe cameron would do anything to get high."

“ and you like that. ” he shutted. “ when your ass is spoiled by my money.”

he came closer to take the bag but you moved your hand away, being much faster than him. he gave you one of his confused looks, his jaw clenching, all frustrated by your move. “don’t play with me like that. just give it to me.”

“ mmh, let me think ? no.” you ordered. “ you want it ? earn it. no kook privilege here.”

rafe started laughing, a nasally laughter that loudly echoed in the room, as his tongue hollowed the side of his inner left cheek with a smirk. “ i don’t beg, quit being a bitch, i don’t beg to have to ‘earn’ this shit. ”

you looked at him warily, knowing full well that he would. “ i think you’re gonna start listening, because you’d do anything to get what you want. if not, it doesn’t really matter to me, i have plenty of clients from figure eight who will pay me twice the amount you do. i just have to call them right now, just give me a sec... ”

his need for drugs was kinda sad,and you felt slightly guilty for using it against him. but as a businesswoman,you easily learned to take advantage of others' vulnerabilities, to use their weaknesses. you had been raised like that, there was nothing you could do about it. and it wasn't like rafe cameron was a nice guy. it was even he who encouraged all this violence within the island.

he finally knelt down, his icy glossy-teared gaze meeting yours, his lower lips trembling and begging you to shove the damn pill in his mouth. he could almost drool on the floor because he was so desperate for this shit.

“it’s immediately less fun when you’re the one begging.” you commented, noticing his blue eyes shine because of the impatience you were putting him through.

“ i did what you asked me to. so no more playing bef…”

“ before what? what could you possibly do? kill me? you gonna try to drown me, or maybe strangle me.. people talk y’know. look, i don’t have time for your bullshit, I’m in charge right now, this little power struggle isn’t going to get you anywhere. i’m not one of your little friends and i’m not scared of you. i don’t need your money but you need drugs, so who do you think is going to win here? get it together or get out. ”

rafe cameron hated this feeling, the way you making him feel shitty, the way you felt so superior to him with your worlds. it was — too much, too humiliating for him.

he was seething, a mixture of rage and sadness, but above all need and weakness. he needed this drug, as much as he needed you to give it to him now. you were terribly making the blood boil in his bulging veins. his body was tense, and inside his mouth, it was foaming. you could see he could die from this. he would have liked to be able to use violence on you, but he was incapable of doing so. you held him helpless.

"you’ve never been in this position before, but don’t worry, you’ll get used to it."

you brushed aside the strands of his bangs. “just look at that face, you are pretty, i’ll admit it” you traced his lips with your thumb, brushing it softly. with a mocking tone, you said. “ i don’t get how anyone could be intimidated by you, you’re such a baby. or maybe you’re just like this with me. ”

“ don’t call me that. ”

“then don’t give me a reason too. you’re not better than anyone. now relax, let’s just have fun." and you placed a colored pill against your tongue before pulling your lips over his, slowly sliding and driving the drug into his mouth.

you pressed your tongue against his in a mixture of dripping drool, pushing the colored pill against both of your mouths as they sought each other, sharing each other's taste. you claimed him, as you slobbering directly in his tongue, sucking the pill that had passed from one mouth to the other, from his saliva to yours, slipping in your lips and outside his, before returning to him. “ open up, rafe.” and you released the drug down his throat.

you leaned back, a trickle of saliva stretching from his tongue to your parted and swollen lips. you were breathing heavily as if he had stolen your breath during the kiss.

“ we're not done yet. " you replied in his ear, giving his earlobe a lick.

you sat on the edge of the bed again, removing your skirt and panties before spreading your thighs to let him view your perfect and sweet pussy. you placed a new pill on your tongue, caged around your two fingers before a load of drool caused the drug to slide just between your cunt.

“oops, so clumsy.” you scoffed. " you wanna get that or should i ?"

he moved closer, settling between your thighs but you grabbed his face, gently squishing his cheeks like a little boy. “i know with an ego as big as yours it’s hard to say thank you. you should try using your manners once in a while ”

“ stop trying to mess with me, just give me the damn pill.”

“ mmh…asking like that ? surely not. ”

you wedged the drug between the slits of your wet cunt lips. you could feel rafe’s burning gaze on your thighs, but also that this whole situation was turning him on deeply. drugs as much as sex.

he needed that taste again. he was addicted to it. “come on, get your shit.”

and you didn’t need to say it twice, before his mouth was rushed against your pussy, claiming it as his tongue prodding your lips to find the aphrodisiac candy. you moaned at the feeling of him wrecking your dripping cunt, lapping in it through the pill of drugs. you clenched around him, as he slurped into your soppy folds. he slipped it into his mouth, before giving your pussy a strong and heavy lick, while he gripped your left thigh. his nose was big enough to lolling your clit, getting him so ticklish, to gently caressing your skin. the wet tip brushing it. your hips moving at his messy pace. the way he sucked you was just — so good.

you were completely on cloud, the vision of his dirty face buried between your legs, his sweaty bangs ghosting his forehead, his teeths gripping into your cunt, as his tongue circling around your clit, wetness smeared sloppily through his jawline making you even more wet, and getting him hyped by your little and pretty moans that fell into your lips. the slurpy noises of his mouth devouring you in sync with your desperate voice, tongue smacking your bud. you let your hands hold him in a tight hold in his hair, as you lost yourself against him.

your legs were caged above his broad shoulders, while your hips slapped his cheeks harshly. you were sensitive, gurgling and trembling under the weight of his warm tongue as it touched your sensitive spot to the deep, slurping every single drop of juice dripping in and out of your sweet needy cunt. he lapped every corner as a dog, wrapping and curling his breathy lips around your pulsating bud, groaned everytime he feels it tense around him. and jesus — he loved your damn taste.

his breath was warm, fanning over your spreaded slit which was soaked directly on his tongue. his hold was tightened, literally digging into your flesh, as his mouth filled you so well. she looked even bigger in you, getting her way further in your insides. he was so starved, sucking and sucking as your taste was making him feel even more high than drugs. you could literally see stars, and draw them. your vision was blurred as you reached heaven.

his tongue was heavy and slobbery against your dripping pussy, mixed between his own saliva and your own wetness, which made his entire jaw shiny with the mixture. and with that, the ecstacy effect began to build, making the pleasure even stronger and hotter.

the way your body arched as he eaten your pussy like he hadn’t touched anything, licked anything in months.

you had re-slipped a pill to give him even more of an appetite, feeding him like a starving man. you could feel his short cutted grunts against your pussy, as your hips rubbed his face.

your head was spinning, and your stomach was spiraling. it felt so good, but you were so lost. the drugs, the sex, rafe, everything was wonderfully good. why go to heaven when you have everything here?

rafe had never felt so good, he loved cocaine, he cherished this drug that he had broken and which he could no longer live without. but honestly, he liked drugs in general, anything that would make him high and unstable. he needed this to survive.

he sometimes dreamed of being clean, but it was impossible. all this shit was too much — too important for him. when you came in his mouth, releasing all your heavenly juices on his tongue, you blocked his breath by pulling him harder against your soaked and juicy cunt, forcing his throat to gasp, and swallowing everything that came to his cavity.

“ i want to try something with you.” you said in a lower tone, as you reach his pants, his hard and thick dick stretching the fabric.

he followed your gaze to his boner, not aware of what you were talking about, but the way your eyes were fully gawking at it, getting him even more excited, especially with the effect of drugs inside his mind.

“ i want to get high on your cock. doing a line on it…will you let me ? ”

“ you're sick.”

“ well duh, i hang out with you, don’t i?. ”

“ give me that coke, gonna get the line for ya. ” he offered as you handed him the drug.

he couldn't help but sniff the smell of the coke, as his nose was plunged into the white powder, making him even harder.

you can see the volume of his size growing against your eyes. “ can't you stop it, actually ? ”

“ don't be funny. ”

you took down his pants and his boxers. his cock was tense and big, fully erect right in front of your face. he placed the drug in a straight line on his flesh, while you salivated, watching the powder disperse over him.

“ stay still, rafe. ” you gently shouted.

“ do you really think i can control it ? hurry the fuck up. ”

“ don't stress me out. it's my first time doing this. ” you replied as you lowered your face above his stiffened cock, feeling the tense of his body through the hard rock. his curvy tip flopping some precum drop in the air, as your nose pointed toward the drugs.

it was the first time you experimented something like that, and you felt giddy about it. you blocked one of your nostrils before snorting the entire line at once,while rafe held your head during the whole process. his hand gripping tighter in your hair when the coke reached your nose. and you giggled the next second and doing it again just to feel the sensation another time. his dick twitched against your cheeks, tapping your skin with some lazily slaps.

you were about to step back, when he pulled you away by the neck, your hair falling over his grip, and face leaning toward him. “ already done ? don't run away. you gotta clean up your mess first ”

you lapped his cock to get him clean, rolling your tongue over his sensitive length, the fat shaft throbbing over your mouth, as your saliva soaked him. .

you were high — mouth licking innocent with stoned-looking filled with dizzy eyes. you needed more. but the moment you were about to talk, rafe came between your lips, spurting his warm loads inside you.

“ you wanted a thank you ? here it is. now we're done. ”

“ we all know that you will come back to me. ”

“ babe.” he cutted. “ you wish i came back for you’, but we all know why i came back. ”

“ pretend to not like it if you want, but don't forget to say my name when my taste will still drip from your mouth while you're kissing others. ”

“ glad that you're aware that you're not the only one. now, i'm leaving. don't call me. ”

“ don't need to call you when you will be at my door like a dog. ”

“ do i really have to put my dick in that mouth to shut you up ? or you gonna be a big girl and do it alone ? ”

“ oh oh. seems like you’re just looking for an excuse to do it, but your dick isn’t big enough to keep me quiet.”

“ not big enough ? ” he repeated with a smirk. “ keep talking, sweetheart before i'm gonna stretch that mouth open to death with that not-big-enough dick. ” he came closer, towering you with his height “ glad that you love yapping because after that, i can promise you that you will have something to talk for the entire year. now open that mouth. bigger. want to be a whore ? then make daddy fit in. ”

[i-arch-my-backula]

Louis and Lestat's reaction to seeing their s/o covered in blood

I did this on Halloween last year for horror characters, which will be getting a part two soon, but I thought, why not do this for more vampires I'm in love with. I'm trying to get back into writing more often and I hope that this will help get the ball rolling. This is also for the 1995 movie, I haven't seen the show.

Warnings: Blood drinking, suggestive content (nothing explicit), reader is covered in blood, Lestat is a freak, not proof read

Lestat De Lioncourt

It's your first feed since being turned. Lestat found the perfect candidates for you and him to share on this lovely night. He soothed your hesitancy and promised it'll be ok. After all, you have to eat to live.

Lestat has been a vampire for centuries, so he knows how to get away mess free from his meals, you on the other hand, aren't quite as skilled at that yet. So as Lestat sucks the blood from his victim, he looks over at you and finds that you're drenched in blood, he can't help but smile to himself.

He finished his meal as you keep going, more blood gushing from your victims neck into your mouth and onto your clothes and face. Lestat has to gently pull your meal away from you, reminding you not to drink dead mans blood.

But good lord you're a sight to behold. Sitting on the ground, the lower half of your face smeared with blood, your clothes soaked in it too, Lestat can feel himself getting aroused just at the sight of you like this. Your hair messy, your clothes slightly opened, the look in your eyes, it's almost too much to handle.

But Lestat, being the gentleman that he is, has to help you clean up. It's not his fault that cleaning you up just so happens to mean making out with you so hard he almost breaks your nose while he licks the blood from your face. Oh and if any blood seeped through your clothes and onto your skin, you bet he's going to lick that off you too.

You blessed him with the sight of you covered in blood and you expect him to not immediately be a freak about it? You clearly don't know anything about Lestat.

Lestat is going to be himself and try to get you that messy every time you eat. He can get someone to wash out your clothes or he'll just get you new ones, it doesn't matter, he sees you covered in blood and he feels his undead heart come to life once again.

Louis De Pointe Du Lac

Louis didn't turn you, but he found you, out at night, crying with hunger, and he knew he had to help you. He's past the point of eating rats and feeling catholic levels of guilt about being a vampire. So he leads you to your first meal.

He has to verbally tell you to be careful as you drink from the person he found you. Because this is your first time drinking from someone, you're very messy with it, any blood that didn't make it into your mouth, made it's way all over your clothes and face.

If you have longer hair Louis will be a gentleman and hold it back for you as you feast. He stays silent the whole time, just letting you get your fill and adjust to this new found hunger being a vampire brings.

Once you're finished and you push your victim away from you, Louis sees just how covered in blood you are. He hates to admit it, but he's obsessed with your look. The red staining the lower half of your face and clothes, your hands covered in blood as you start to lick them clean, God damn you Y/N don't you know what you're doing to him?

Louis won't lick the blood off of you like Lestat did, he's not that big of a freak, but he will lead you into the bathroom and help you clean yourself up, that is until he has to step away because he knows what seeing you like this is doing to him.

If you strip in front of him he could care less, all he cares about in that moment is seeing you in your state of being drenched in blood, having it all over your face and body like that, it drives him mad. If only he could take a picture of you like that.

Unlike Lestat, Louis won't intentionally try and get you all covered in blood again, but he won't teach you how to be careful with drinking blood either. You can't blame a man for wanting to see someone as attractive as you covered in blood as much as possible.