Idol Namjoon! x reader
genre: fluff on top of fluff
warnings: bike accident, Joonie is a bit sad at first but it’s very short :((
a/n: this is just a very sweet little drabble I hope you like it!
// this is a part of a short drabble series I’m working on and it’s loosely connected to The Party And The Broom (I’ll link it at the end) but you can read it as a stand-alone.
The moment Namjoon had met Jungkook’s new girlfriend at the Jack In The Box pre-release party and had seen how enamoured with each other they were, it’s like something clicked within him. It’s like he realized at that moment he didn’t have to be alone.
He could want to fall in love again. It wasn’t selfish or egoistical, he deserved to find someone, to be happy and share that happiness with another person.
And so with that mindset, he went on a few dates, never finding exactly what his heart was longing for. It’s not that they weren’t good enough or kind enough. They just didn’t stir something in him, he never felt the urge to kiss them after walking them home or contact them again for a second date. He began to feel unmoored and disenchanted.
Like maybe, he just wasn’t meant to find THAT someone.
And so he did what never failed to bring him comfort, he went biking along the Han River. Watched in awe how the wind blew through the green summer leaves, wondered if there was a melody to it that the human ear could not catch.
He basked in the warm breeze, watching people go by, children laughing, couples holding hands.
That’s when he saw you.
You were like a magnet and he found himself caught in your magnetic field, under your spell. Soft gusts of wind kept blowing strands of hair in your face, blurring your vision.
And that’s how you fell off your bike, hands right in front of you to try and soften the fall.
He gasped and started biking faster to get to you, heart skipping a beat.
When he got to you, you were still down, probably a bit shocked at the sudden accident. He got off his bike in a hurry, it fell to the side but he couldn’t bring himself to care at this moment. He kneeled down next to you.
“Are you hurt, how do you feel?!” He asked, voice laced with concern. You turned your head towards the deep voice, cheeks cherry red.
“Y-yeah.. I think so..?” Your voice came out a bit shaky.
You were very much embarrassed, that he could tell. He felt an urge to help you, tuck the strands of hair that had fallen in front of your eyes behind you ears.
Instead of doing something that embarrassing and inappropriate, he simply extended his arm towards you, palm up.
You eyed him, gaze a bit wary before you accepted his offer and took his hand. You yelped in discomfort when he squeezed your hand to help you up, your palm was bruised and cut.
“You are hurt” You stared into his eyes and your own seemed to widen, like you’d recognized someone you knew. Except, if Namjoon already met you, he’s positive he would’ve remembered.
How could someone ever forget meeting you? You had the most beautiful presence he had ever been lucky enough to witness. He would be the stupidest man known to existence to not at least try and get to know you.
“It would.. seem so yeah” you whispered, like you both were in a tiny space where there only existed you and him, afraid that if you spoke just a little too loud, the moment would end, shatter into a million pieces, like glass, all around you.
Namjoon was enthralled by you. He felt possessed by your being and those sharp eyes. They seemed to hide secrets and dreams that would probably never be uttered. He never believed in love at first sight, never will.
What he believed in was two souls meeting and immediately feeling comforted by each other, drawn to each other. That’s what he felt with you, he was certain. Your hand was still in his.
“I can help, I have a first aid kit in my backpack, can I..?” His voice was deep and just shy of a whisper.
You nodded and he smiled, beautiful dimples on display. His presence felt like a warm hug from a dear friend, you felt fuzzy and safe, it was strange. In a good way, a comforting way.
You both settled on the grass a few feet away from where you had fallen, he tended to your wounds. You blushed, he laughed and comforted you. You both got to talking about life, your wildest dreams, family, the meaning of words.
Before you knew it, sunset came, bringing you back to reality. What was reality? It wasn’t the reality he had known barely a few hours ago, he felt hopeful and reinvigorated now. Funny how one meeting can change so many things.
“Will I see you again?” He questioned shyly, picking at the grass. You smiled coyly and your cheeks heated. You were adorable he thought, for the hundredth time today.
“Same place, same day next week?” You looked at him, eyes hopeful and a little embarrassed maybe. He took your hand and rubbed his thumb on the back of it, your skin was so soft and he, was simply human. How could he resist?
“Can’t wait” He replied, gaze locked into yours, unwavering. And he meant it, god he meant it.
synopsis; in which Namjoon is the popular jock and you’re just another girl in the bleachers. OR what happens when the gentle giant takes notice of the introverted, yet dedicated fan?
pairing; college jock!namjoon x college student!reader
genre; angst, fluff, humor, smut, s2l, f2l, college au, jock au
warnings; classic college tropes, angst in the form of cheerleaders(but not all!) misjudging reader, but mainly just a whole bunch of sweet jock Namjoon for your pleasure, a letterman jacket kink rises to the surface, reader is awkward, joon is a patient angel baby cause he’s in lOoOve with reader so much 🥺 uhhhhm there will be sexual intercourse and it will be soft and cute with protection being used cause they smart cookies(and so are you!)
rating; 21+ MINORS DNI
a/n; happy birthday to our favorite accident prone, gentle giant, dimple baby Kim Namjoon! like + reblog if you enjoyed. don’t be a silent reader! <3 feedback is always appreciated and helps to keep this writer motivated to put out more content — like this! all the love, always.
networks; @ficscafe, @thebtswritersclub, @btshoneyhive, @kflixnet
It was another chilly September evening.
The flood lights that surround the football field are bright as ever, allowing the football players to continue playing as the night continues on.
You secure your jacket tighter around your shivering figure, the unforgiving wind still somehow making it through the thick material no matter how hard you try otherwise. The people around you both cheer when your team scores a touchdown, and boo when the away team does.
All of that is trivial, however, seeing as your main focus is on the tallest member of the team, making it easier for you to decipher him amongst the other players.
Kim Namjoon. The gentle giant.
The bleachers erupt into a fit of cheers, hooting, and hollering, your team winning the game by a landslide. Not that you ever doubted it. Namjoon and the other players gradually make their way off the field and towards the locker rooms to get washed up. With your seat being next to the corridor that they walk through, you get a good luck as they go by.
Namjoon is waving politely at those that chant his name in earnest. He’s not the quarterback, but he’s just as popular, if not more. His talents are phenomenal when it came to the sport, everyone sure that he was going to get recognized by an agent and signed by end of his college career.
You join the rest of those that chant his name, though your voice is easily drowned out by those who aren’t afraid to scream their hearts out. For a split second, your eyes lock with his. That dimpled smile widens, and you woefully wish it’s due to you, though you know that can’t be true considering you’ve never gained the courage to talk with him.
You imagine it’s cause of you anyways.
The following Monday you’re taking your normal stroll through the large campus courtyard. It’s littered with students that share the same goal as you, making it to their class on time. Up ahead, you see the jocks and cheerleaders formed in their usual circle located next to the fountain that’s planted dab in the middle of said courtyard.
You spot Namjoon easily.
He’s laughing from something that Cherry said, cheer captain and from what you heard, now ex of Kim Namjoon. From their interaction, you wonder if those were just rumors, or maybe they just ended on good terms. You wouldn’t put it past Namjoon to stay civil in that kind of situation.
Due to your zoning out on the dimpled male, you fail to watch where you’re going, and make the fatal mistake of knocking into Jin, another member of the football team. The action causes a domino effect from the force in which you accidentally plow him with, ultimately making Cherry stumble into Namjoon and having him catch her effortlessly. His face is worried as he asks if she’s okay, she says yes.
His eyes then flicker to yours, as does everyone around him when they realize that you’re the culprit.
“Aiiiiish! You should be apart of the team with that powerful of a tackle, y/l/n.”
Jin turns and jests at your embarrassed figure good naturedly, a grin on his face so as to show there’s no hard feelings on his part. The same sentiment can’t be said for a few of the cheerleaders who were collateral damage.
“You’re right, Jin. She’s certainly built like a dude.” Cherry’s co-captain and best friend sardonically chimes in with a smirk on her face. The comment creates scattered laughter throughout the group in agreement, all except for Namjoon, you notice.
Your face flushes at the jab, you being well aware that your chest wasn’t quite as developed as most women your age. Your lip trembles, and you bite it in hopes of stopping the tears that begin to build in your eyes. You make a show of deeply bowing to the group, mumbling a ‘sorry, please excuse me’ before standing up straight and briskly walking past.
Namjoon makes a step towards your retreating figure, promptly getting stopped by Cherry’s hand that curls itself around his bicep. His face that was once full of worry for his ex, still held the same expression, but this time for you.
He made a mental note that next time he saw you he was going to apologize on behalf of his so called ‘friends’.
You make it to class without a hitch. The day drones on like it always does, and it’s not until that final bell rings do you sigh in relief. You clutch your binder into your chest, both arms folded around it as you step back outside into the courtyard, this time with the end destination being your bed.
You get close to the school gates before you’re stopped by a loud voice. A loud, familiar voice.
“Y/N! Hey! Wait up!”
You stiffly turn in the direction where the voice is coming from, seeing Kim Namjoon in all his beautiful, letterman jacket wearing glory make it to you in a second flat from his long legged strides. Your knuckles turn white from how hard you’re holding your binder now, something Namjoon’s eyes dart to as he gets close enough to stand a few feet away from your shorter figure.
His full, dimpled smile is on display, and this time you know for a fact that it’s meant for you only. Your brain malfunctions, and you miss the words that come out of his mouth next, the only thing you register is his lips moving to form said words.
You blink. Once, twice. His smile doesn’t falter, but he does lean in closer to your face, one slender finger coming up to gently poke the crease in between your brows that seemed to form without you knowing. It must be from how confused you are about the situation at hand.
As if time unpaused itself, your brain clears up enough for you to speak, though your voice cracks when you do.
“I’m–, I’m sorry. What did you say?”
“I was asking if you were available to accompany me to this new diner that opened up down the street. I wanted to treat you.”
His hands are stuffed into his letterman jacket, he’s rocking himself on the balls of his feet as he waits for your answer patiently. Eyes staying trained on your face, he surveys out of his peripheral the outfit you’re wearing. It’s cute, different, unique. He likes it, a lot.
Your eyes narrow, and for the first time does his usually confident smile begin to dim.
“Is this some kind of a bet?”
His eyes widen, face crestfallen at your misconception of his genuine interest in you.
“Excuse me?” Now it’s his turn to gain those creases between his brows.
“Are your friends going to pop out of the bushes and yell ‘gotcha!’?”
He doesn’t miss the way you elongate the word friends with a hint of distaste on your tongue. He’ll be the first to admit that his choice of company can be downright rude, and wonders what other slurs you had to endure by them before he transferred to this college his junior year.
“No, they’re not. I promise I only come to you with good intentions and on the basis of wanting to get to know you better. Is that alright with you?” He ends with a question, and once again awaits your answer. There’s no signs of malice or ill intent as he looks at you, but you can’t help the walls you’ve built over the years.
Pursing your lips, you reply.
“No, thank you. I wouldn’t want to further endure the wrath of the cheerleading squad when your girlfriend finds out. So, good day.”
You pivot on your heel, decision resolute.
An enlarged hand grasps your own, and you stop in your tracks, back towards him.
“She’s not my girl–well, she was-but not anymore. We broke up awhile ago. Like, months ago. She even has a new boyfriend already, he’s a cool dude.”
He’s nonchalant when he speaks, his grip on your hand loosens when you turn your attention back on him, but he still keeps ahold on your hand incase you attempt to ditch him again.
“Only you would talk highly of an ex’s new boyfriend, I swear. You’re like a freaking unicorn.”
He lets out a bellowing, open mouthed laugh that seems to take over his entire face, his eyes crinkling, that reverberates through his hand and into yours, causing your arm to shake lightly as a result. A hint of a smile appears on your face that makes him gasp in pure delight.
He points at your mouth with a cheeky, dimpled, grin.
“There’s that smile!”
Your immediate reaction is to hide your face in your chest, an action he prevents you from doing as he uses his other hand to cup your chin and steer your gaze back onto his. His hand is still warm from its previous home in his jacket, you note, despite the cold air around you two.
“You shouldn’t hide your face, it’s pretty.”
From that point on, you were hooked.
Once again, you’re walking your normal route to class within the courtyard. Namjoon and his group of friends are a few yards away from you, but this time when he notices you, he makes a point to break away with haste, apologies spew from his supple lips to those he squeezes past to get to you.
Jin is the last to let him past, giving you an enthusiastic wave. Even Cherry and her posse give you smiles in greeting that you return. Namjoon’s arms encase themselves around your waist as he hoists your small frame and twirls you both in a circle. He’s still holding you up off the ground, and you slowly slide down enough to plant a soft, but meaningful kiss on his lips. You could feel him smile into it, and it makes your teeth clash for a moment.
When you mutually pull away for fresh air, you barely have time before he’s peppering you with kisses all over your face. From behind, Jin patronizes you both on your disgusting public display of affection.
“Oi! Get a room you two!”
Using one arm to hold you, he makes a point to flip Jin off with his free hand that makes you roll your eyes at their antics. You give him a few pats on his shoulder, your way of telling him to set you back down on solid ground. He pouts cutely, but obliges.
Throwing an arm around your shoulder instead, your fingers thread through his dangling ones over your shoulder as he leads you to your first class of the day. Too soon do you arrive, and he leans against the side of the wall next to the door with his lips already puckered in waiting. You lean up this time to oblige his height as best as you can, not noticing when he subtly leans down further to accommodate your height difference.
Inbetween kisses, he asks you a question.
“Am I still able to come over after the game tonight?”
His eyes are hopeful, smile widening when you nod in affirmation to his question. He gives you a loving pat on the head, before using both hands to secure your head long enough for him to plant a kiss on your forehead and then he’s off and heading to his own class with a wave of his hand, barely managing to dodge a gaggle of girls in time before crashing into them.
You wave back with a shake of your head at your clumsy giant, smile of your own adorning your face as a light hue rises in your cheeks of what’s to come.
You couldn’t wait.
Just like in the beginning, you’re back in your favorite spot on the bleachers to watch your now boyfriend own the field like he always does. Off to the side, not to far from where you are, you catch a snippet of conversation between a dude who looks way to formally dressed to be at a college football game and Namjoon’s coach. When Namjoon’s body hurdles by them with the football in hand, does the formal guy point at Namjoon with a serious look on his face. His coach crosses his arms over his chest with a puff of his chest, a smug smile on his face as he nods to whatever the formal dude is saying.
Huh. You wonder what that’s about.
You join the rest of the crowd around you in a standing, deafening applaud for the entire football team as they make their way through the corridor after a major win of the season. Your eyes scan the members in search of Namjoon’s loving eyes, but you don’t see him.
It’s not until your eyes shift back towards the field, do you find him with his helmet tucked under his arm, a beaming smile on his face as he talks to coach and mystery dude. The latter pats Namjoon on the shoulder as you make your way slowly down the bleachers to the stairs that lead to on the field. When your feet touch the astroturf and you begin your small trek to the three men, does the mystery dude bid his goodbyes and walk past you.
The coach and Namjoon are hugging each other tightly, coach shouting praises at Namjoon.
“I knew you would be something kid. I just knew it!”
“Thanks, coach. This wouldn’t have been possible without you!”
You walk up as they separate, and you have a wary smile on your face, your gut telling you that you just might know what transpired, but choosing to stay silent and wait for Namjoon to tell you himself.
If possible, his smile becomes broader when he sees you. Dropping his helmet to the ground, he ditches it in favor of holding your body tightly against him. You hug him back just as enthusiastically, his breath fanning your ear as he speaks.
“I did it, baby! I got recruited for a team!”
You gasp in astonishment, eyes watering due to how happy you are for Joon. This has been his goal for as long as he could throw a football, you couldn’t be more proud of him. Your arms tighten around his neck as you bury your face into him. He can feel your body shake with happy sobs, and can’t help the emotion of the moment when he joins you in the sobfest.
The coach is long gone when you two collect yourselves, Namjoon using his thumbs to wipe the tear streaks from your face as he smiles at you lovingly. Your nose is red and eyes are puffy, but he’s never seen you look more beautiful than you do at this moment.
He leans down to kiss you. It’s soft, slow, but full of passion.
“I love you, y/n.”
The words are whispered between kisses and instead of responding with words, you opt for action in the form of deepening the kiss with a mix of tongues as you battle for dominance.
He wins. He always wins.
Namjoon is manspreading on your bed wearing nothing but black boxers, arms behind his head as he watches your shy, hesitant body make its way past the frame of the door. Your arms are crossed over your chest in self doubt of how risqué you chose to dress yourself tonight for Namjoon’s pleasure – and your own.
It’s a sheer, black, silky slip that caught your eye in the mall recently. The lady that helped you pick it out reassured you that you would look so good that he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off of you. But, as you look at his now stiff body, face void of emotion, you conclude it must’ve just been her trying to meet her sales quota for that day.
Your body folds in on itself, your flight response immediately wanting to kick in and save you from your utter embarrassment at trying and failing to look sexy. Namjoon snaps out of his lust induced haze to see your fear stricken one, and he instantly hops off the bed to secure you within his arms with endearing words of praise spoken into your hair as he rocks you both side to side.
“I’m sorry, baby. My brain fried there for a second when I saw how gorgeous you look.”
He pulls away, but keeps his hands on your shoulders, rubbing the tops of them occasionally as his eyes rake over your perfectly curved, thick figure with both love and lust.
His eyes snap to yours when your meek voice passes your lips, his brows scrunching in confusion. He goes to question you, but you beat him to the answer.
“I was trying to go for more along the lines of sexy–,” your eyes look everywhere but his as you continue, self deprecating thoughts fill your mind for a moment as you become your own worst critic. “–I bet if I had bigger boobs–,”
“I’m gonna stop you right there.”
His hand on your chin, makes you look at him. His eyes hold nothing but warmth when he speaks.
“You are sexy, baby. So fucking sexy.”
Your eyes widen, a soft gasp escapes your lips. He trails one hand down your arm and to your hand, before he’s leading you both back to your bed. Guiding you to lay down, he then takes a moment to savor the way your body naturally parts your legs in anticipation of him being between them. Not wanting to disappoint, he kneels between your legs and uses the strength of his arms to hover over your form.
“I don’t want you ever doubting how I feel about you, okay? If you’re feeling down, let me know. I’ll be glad to show you otherwise.” A cheeky smirk adorns his face and your cheeks tint, small smile beginning to curl at the edge of your lips.
“There’s that smile I love.”
You pull him down by his neck to kiss him, it starts out slow and sensual, before turning into a kiss of pure need for one another. Your bodies react, his lower half grinds into yours and you can feel the effect you have on him. You whimper into the kiss, the weight of his crotch rubs deliciously into your clit that makes you want more.
“Please, Joonie. No teasing.”
“Fine, fine. One thing though, something I always wanted to try.”
You tilt your head in bewilderment when he pushes himself off of you to cross your room to the duffel bag that lays on the floor next to your desk. Unzipping it, he ruffles through the contents until he finds what he’s looking for – his letterman jacket.
He makes his way back to you and gestures for you to sit up, which you do. Grabbing the bottom of your slip dress, he helps you pull it off until your left nude in front of him. He bites his lip, and throws the jacket around your shoulders, encouraging you to slink your arms through the sleeves, which again, you do. He then sits back to both admire you and take in his fantasy come to life.
You wearing nothing but his letterman jacket.
His Adam’s apple bobs, pupils blown, as you yourself admire the jacket around you. The semi rough material rubs against your nipples and makes them harden. The scent of Joon is all over it, and you can’t help but bring the collar up to your nose to savor it with your eyes closed in content.
A shaky exhale is what has your eyes popping back open to witness Namjoon sink to his elbows between your legs. You whine at his actions.
“Joon, I said no teasing tonight.”
“Baby, please? This has been a fantasy of mine for a long time now, I just want to taste you real quick.” He whines back cutely, full on pout plastered on his face that you just can’t say no too.
You give a mock huff of feigned annoyance and let yourself plop back comfortably onto the pillows beneath you, he pumps a fist in the air in triumph that has you lightly hitting him in the back of his head with the heel of your foot to hurry up.
Then, he doesn’t waste any time.
He dives in, planting one solid lick to your outer folds that leads to the hood of your clit. He places one hand between you both to gently tug the hood of your clit up so he can blow softly on it. The cool sensation makes your body erupt with goosebumps, and then he’s placing a hard suck on your clit that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head. Your knees unconsciously begin closing upon contact, but he uses his other free hand to hold one of your legs down, preemptively giving him better access to your core.
He switches his attention from your clit, and down to your now glistening hole, where he allows his middle finger to slide inside up to the knuckle, taking it out a second later to rub circles around your hole. Your hips buck, hole clenching around nothing, missing the intruding digit already. He continues this torturous routine until you start to become frustrated at your lack of relief, the edging beginning to take a toll on you.
“Namjoon, you better start–,” you begin to berate him, but your words turn into soft pants when he chooses at that exact moment to add two more digits into your hole at a fast pace, curling them to the point he’s able to feel your soft spot. His pace is unrelenting as you grip the sheets, back arching and mouth parting in a silent scream. Your toes begin to curl and he watches with hooded eyes as you come undone for the first time that night before him. Your orgasm washes over your spasming body in waves, and he’s quick to replace his fingers with his big mouth to lewdly slurp up your essence like a man starved for water. Some of it eludes his mouth to dribble down his chin and onto the bedding beneath you.
“Fuck. Namjoon. Stop. I can’t.”
You beg breathlessly, fingers gripping his hair in a vice to lift his head off your oversensitive pussy. He places one last wet kiss to each of your inner thighs, then trails up your body to your breasts. He takes one in each hand, gently massaging them to squish them together so he can take advantage of his big mouth and tongue to both lick and suckle each nipple with the same amount of attention.
You use the opportunity to come down from your high, to a still pleasurable, but not overbearing different kind of stimulation. After a few minutes, he uses one hand to push down his boxers enough to kick them off the bed with his feet. Getting back up on his knees, he reaches over the side of you to your side table drawer and fetches out a condom you make sure to keep just incase. He opens it and rolls it on, being sure to pinch the tip to make room for his own slick to fill.
He lines up his length with your still semi spasming hole, but looks up at you with a question in his eyes that gets answered just as quietly when you wrap your legs around his waist. Both of you let out a grunt of satisfaction when he stills, fully inside.
“Are you okay?”
You don’t realize your eyes closed on their own as your body adjusted to Namjoon’s girth. When you open them, you see his face hovering over yours with concern pooling in his.
“I’m good, Joon. You can move.”
Leaning down, he gives you a lingering kiss on your lips as he begins to move his hips against yours. He doesn’t go fast, choosing tonight as one to be savored. It’s an important one after all, he wants to remember it.
You thrust your own hips up in the slow, rhythmic tempo that he’s set, encouraging him to his first orgasm of the night. He buries his face in your neck, giving sloppy thrusts until he stills. Using what little strength you have left, you place the palms of your hands on his chest and push him until he’s laying on his back on the bed. You take your time straddling him, rubbing your folds against his length once, twice – it’s not until the third swing of your hips does he place his hands on your love handles in order to guide his length back into your warmth.
You chuckle at his impatience, and he glowers at you playfully.
“I thought you said no teasing?”
“Figured I’d give you a taste of your own medicine is all.”
You’re playing innocent, but he knows better. He lets you ride him at your own pace, letting his hands roam all over your breasts, your stomach, your thighs. Eventually, when he feels your walls begin to constrict around his own growing length, does he drop his hand where you two meet in order to rub soft, yet perfect amount of weight on your clit to help spur both of your impending orgasms.
Throwing caution to the wind, you splay your hands on his chest to get better leverage and a better angle, increasing your pace from a slow one to a fast one that has both of you a panting mess trying to chase your highs at the same time. You let out a broken whimper and he knows you’re closer to yours, but he wants to cum at the same time as you, finding the rare occurrence just another way of togetherness in his mind between you both when it does happen.
Easing his assault on your clit, he plants his heels into the bed to thrust up at a brutal pace, his cock pistons in and out of your sopping hole and you let out a sob at the orgasm that suddenly hits you at the same time that his does. He only stops when you can’t hold yourself up anymore and choose to lazily plop yourself off to the side of him on the bed, face flushed, eyes closed, and ready for sleep already.
He’s not too far behind you, wanting to crash after that love making session, but he needs to clean up first and so do you. He gives your ass a light slap and you groan into the pillow in reply.
“Let’s clean up, baby. Then sleep.”
You flip him off. He playfully bites your fingertip.
The next day you’re both taking an early morning walk around campus, your small hand held tightly in his large one. Ever since last night, he takes any chance he can get to see you wearing his letterman jacket, so that’s what you’re currently wearing over your outfit.
You don’t mind though, in fact, you love it.
Like you love him.
So, you say it for the first time since he’s confessed.
“Joon?” He looks down at you with a curious look on his face, and waits patiently for you to speak when he notices how shy you’re getting. It brings him back to the first day he met you.
“I love you too.”
Your favorite dimpled smile makes an appearance. You two meet in the middle for a loving kiss. You go to pull away, but he secured a hand on the back of your neck to keep you a hair width away as he speaks lowly, honestly.
“I always saw you.”
You tilt your head in confusion.
“Yeah. In the bleachers. You went to every game. I even saw the sign you made with just my number on it, but it helped me get that winning touchdown.”
“Serious as a heart attack.”
A puff of laughter escapes your lips, your lips grazing his during the act that has him chasing yours for another. His shoulders bounce as he lightly laughs along with you.
Another reason you love wearing his jacket? It lets everyone around you know that you’re his.
That you would always be his.