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freedomfireflies · 5 months

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Infinite You*

Summary: The one where Harry is in an open relationship with your best friend, and maybe you have more in common than you realized.

(Based on this request! There is no third, just Harry and Reader!)

Word Count: 8.6k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, choking, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, Sir Kink

You’ve never noticed how incredibly attractive Harry Styles is.

Granted, that’s because you’ve never really allowed yourself to notice how attractive he is, but you notice today because that’s why you’re here. To notice. To study. To decide if this is worth it.

He’s not making it easy on you. Walking around the apartment with his shirt off, and his sweatpants low, and his hair wet. Reaching into the refrigerator and showcasing all the stunningly hard muscles in his back. The scattered tattoos. The chunky rings on his fingers.

You swallow.

You hadn’t planned to entertain this idea. You thought it was weird—strange in more ways than one. But you agreed to talk to him, see if it was a good fit, and now…here you are.

“So,” he calls as he straightens up and turns to face you. “What do you wanna know?”

“Uh…what do you want to tell me?” you call back. You wish you were smoother.

But he only smirks. He knows you’re nervous. And he knows you’re staring, which seems to amuse him. “Well, first things first, nothing happens that you don’t want.”

He’s kind. Considerate. Hot. It makes your stomach flip.

“Okay,” you say before swallowing thickly. “Great, I mean. That’s…that’s good.”

He walks back to the living room. He’s still amused. You’re still sweating. “If you do decide you want to, we can talk about ground rules and boundaries. Decide what you’re comfortable with. Go over when and where. Things like that.”

“Okay…okay, good.”

“Yeah. And if we don’t want to, we won’t.”

“Right.”

He takes a sip of his water. He’s hiding his smile. “Do you have any questions for me?”

You purse your lips and shake your head. “Nope.”

He’s unconvinced. Hesitating a moment before crouching down near your legs and glancing up at you as though to implore you and chastise you all with the same look.

“Kitten,” he murmurs, and your heart just about beats out of your chest. “If we’re going to do this, I need you to be honest with me. That’s one of my rules. I need you to be vocal. Tell me exactly what you want and what you don’t.”

And you understand. You do. Consent isn’t a question. And you admire that he’s so adamant and unwavering. But that doesn’t mean you know what you want to say.

“I know,” you whisper, and his presence is different. Before, he was Harry: Rebecca’s boyfriend.

Now he’s Harry: the guy you might sleep with.

And it’s strange, and it’s new, and it doesn’t make a lot of sense. And you’re having quite the time trying to wrap your head around it.

But his presence is soothing. Calm. Doing more for your nerves than you initially realized.

“It’s okay,” he whispers back, reaching a hand toward your knee. Long fingers squeezing it once. Comfort. “We’re just talking, yeah?”

You nod and force the first question out of your throat. “Do you…do you guys do this a lot?”

“No,” he answers coolly. He’s relaxed, and it helps. “Not with friends. Not really at all. Not unless it’s right. We don’t force it. If we find someone, we find someone.”

“Ah.” You nod again like you understand but you don’t. “And…you guys are both okay with this? Really?”

He smiles. Squeezes your knee again. “Yes. As long as you are.”

You smile back, and you realize your heart isn’t racing as much anymore. “Right. And…you don’t think this is weird? I mean…her pimping you out just to help me?”

He laughs, and you decide right then and there that you love the sound of his laugh. “No, I don’t,” he admits. “She’s not pimping me out. I offered.”

You lean back. “You offered?”

“She told me you weren’t having a good time with the guys you were meeting, and I said I could help.” He shrugs once. He’s so calm. “She liked the idea and told me she’d bring it to you.”

And you remember when she did. Remember how casually she’d said, “If you ever wanna use Harry…you’re more than welcome to.”

And you’d blinked at her because you couldn’t understand it at all.

But she explained, “He and I have always been in an open relationship. And if you need a bit of…practice or just need someone to scratch that itch, I think he’d be really good. You could talk to him, see what you think?”

You were sure she was messing with you. You weren’t desperate and horny enough to go fucking her boyfriend, but she was more than all right with it. She assured you of that many times. Suggested you just talk to him and see how it made you feel. She gave you his number. You made a time to meet.

And now here you are, wondering if you really are about to go through with it.

“You…you want to help?” you ask him again, and he nods.

“If you want me to.” Another squeeze to your knee. “Kitten, there’s no pressure here. It’s just a conversation. And if we decide no, then we won’t, and it’ll be all right.”

“But it’s…I mean, won’t it be like cheating?” Your hands begin to twist together on your lap. “What if you regret it? Or what if she regrets it?”

“We won’t. We agreed to this,” he says, and he’s still so calm. “This only works if she and I are honest. We know that. And we want to try new things, new people. Plus, she adores you. I do, too. But if you think it feels like cheating, then we don’t have to. We can end the conversation right now.”

A beat. He lets this settle.

“But if you want to try,” he continues softly, “then we’ll ease into it. We’ll go at a pace you’re comfortable. Yeah? This is all up to you.”

You feel your cheeks growing warm. He’s so good. “What if I’m not any good? And you’ve wasted your time? And I made this weird for no reason?”

He smiles, and his eyes are like meadows. Soft and serene. He straightens up just enough to brush his thumb along your chin and relax you.

“There is no possible world where you aren’t good,” he murmurs, and somehow…you believe him. “But if you’re nervous, we’ll plan for that, too. We’ll communicate. I can help you find what makes you feel good.”

You walked into his apartment—into their apartment—sure you wouldn’t be doing it. Sure that there was no way you’d ever believe this to be a good idea.

But here you are, seriously considering it. Teetering on the edge of agreement, ready to fall into his arms.

“Are you sure you want to?” you ask him again. “Are you sure you don’t just feel bad for me?”

His brows pinch together, and he seems confused. But he’s still smiling. “Kitten, believe me. There is nothing I have ever wanted to do more. Sex is intimate and it’s tricky and it’s confusing. And you should only ever be with someone that makes you feel good. Feel safe. And if I can be that person for you, then I want to be. As long as you want me to be, too.”

And you do. You do. You aren’t sure if you even realized how badly until now.

You nod, and his touch lowers. “Okay,” you decide. “Okay, I want to.”

He does his best not to appear too excited, but you can see it there behind his grin. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You straighten your shoulders. “If…I mean, it’s just once, right? We do this, it’s over, we all go back to how it was before, and we don’t talk about it.”

Another beat. “If that’s what you want.”

“Oh, it is,” you assure him with a soft scoff. “No, I’m already gonna have a hard time looking you in the eye. And Rebecca. This is…it’s just…it’s weird.”

He drops his hand to your knee and squeezes it once more. “We don’t have to do this—”

“No, I do want to,” you assure him. “I really do, I just…it is weird. Maybe a good weird, but still weird. And I’m okay with that. I just…I want to, and we can, and then we don’t have to talk about it. Okay?”

He nods. “Okay.”

The living room grows quiet. You aren’t sure what to do now. You aren’t sure if you’ve offended him. You don’t think he ever gets offended. He never has before. As Rebecca’s Harry.

But today he is Just Harry and Just Harry is very calm as he waits for you to continue.

You swallow again. “So…now what?”

“You tell me.” He stands, and you’re eye-level with his bare, toned stomach.

“Uh…okay.” You shift. “Do…you wanna do it tonight?”

“Sure.”

“Do…do you wanna do it at my place?”

“Sure.”

“Do…I need to pick up…condoms?”

He smiles. “I’ve got some I’ll bring.” He nods at you. “And I’m clean, too. Got tested right after she told me.”

God, this is all so real. “Good. I did, too. Not that there was really much…chance. Since it’s been, like…three years.”

He doesn’t have a reaction to this admission. Most guys do. They think it’s weird you’ve been so long without sex. They think you’re a virgin again. They don’t want anything to do with you.

Harry has no reaction. He doesn’t seem disappointed, or relieved, or embarrassed for you, or even repulsed.

“Good,” is all he says before running a hand through his damp curls. “What time would you like me to meet you?”

“Uh…5? No…7?” You wince. “I don’t know how long it’ll take, but…if it’s just a few minutes, then—”

“A few minutes?” Now he’s amused. “Is that all you think I can last?”

Your expression drops. “I…no. No, I just…I don’t know. Most guys tap out after a bit, so I figured—”

“Kitten,” he chuckles, and the sound goes straight to your cunt. “I plan to last as long as you’ll let me.”

Your stomach drops next. “Uh…okay. Great. Then…5?”

“Five,” he repeats, and you’re thrilled. Nervous. Thrilled. “We can talk more about what we want when we get there, yeah?”

You nod. “Sure. That’s…good. That’s good.”

He smiles, and just like that…the date is set.

4:58 comes and you’re a nervous wreck. He’s already here—you’ve just buzzed him in—and now he’s walking up your steps. And you are standing in your kitchen, pacing, tugging on your robe, and trying not to sweat. Again.

When you let him in, he’s…breathtaking. Somehow, in the few short hours since you last saw him, he got exponentially hotter.

His hair is dry, and his curls are styled in a way that makes you want to run your hands through them. He’s wearing a shirt, but it’s oversized and soft. Easy to slip out of. His jeans are ripped but they hug his hips perfectly.

He’s…sex. He’s beautiful. He’s stunning, and you are so incredibly nervous, you don’t know what to do with yourself.

“Hi,” he smiles as he slips off his shoes and shuts your door. “Sorry I’m late.”

“No, you’re not,” you argue quickly. “You’re perfect. You’re—fuck. No, you’re…this is good.”

He laughs and lets his eyes trail down your covering. “Are you…did I interrupt something, or—”

“No. No, sorry. I, uh…I figured this would be easier,” you explain, now absentmindedly playing with the tie. “You know, I could just slip this off, and we could go.”

He hums, but you can tell he’s biting his tongue. “I see. And…is that how you’d like to proceed? You just want to rip the band-aid?”

“Um…” Shit, do you? “I don’t…know. I was kind of hoping you could tell me.”

He nods now and asks for your hand. You give it to him—rather shyly—before allowing him to lead you toward your sofa. He sits you both down and brings your attention to him.

“I will do whatever you want me to do,” he begins. “But…I’d like to know what you really want. What you fantasize about, what makes you feel good. When you’re with someone, or when you picture being with someone, what are they doing? What are you doing?”

You feel your face grow warm. You can’t believe you’re having this conversation with him, and yet…he feels so safe. You trust him. You don’t mind admitting some of your weirder preferences. After all, Rebecca has told you before about what he’s like in bed. He’s…good. Very good. And into some weirder things, too.

And maybe now you understand why she was so happy for you to ask him.

“I…I guess I like…to be taken care of,” you admit quietly, instantly glancing down at your lap to avoid his reaction.

But just as quickly, he’s slipping a finger under your chin and bringing your eyes back to his. “Yeah, Kitten?”

Your stomach wrenches. You nod.

“Tell me more,” he encourages gently.

You fumble with your robe again. “Uh…I don’t really like…to make decisions. A lot of times. I…I feel better if I’m being told what to do.”

The corner of his mouth quirks up. “Okay. I can do that. What else, baby?”

Baby. You think you might die. “Um…I think I like it rough. Or…rougher. Like…spanking, and…hair pulling, and choking…and stuff.”

He’s so entertained by your timid demeanor, and he chuckles again as he squeezes your jaw. “Is that right? D’you want me to spank you, Kitten?”

You really might die. “I…yes? I think so?”

“I need you to do more than think,” he says now, a bit firmer. “When I ask, I expect a clear answer. Is that understood?”

You nod, and you don’t even realize.

“So do you want me to spank you?”

“…yes. I do.”

“Good girl.” He brushes his thumb along your lips, and your mouth parts for him. “What else? What kind of positions do you like? Do you have any particular porn you like to watch?”

You look back down at your lap, and he smirks. “I…I don’t really watch it as much as…I read it.”

“Oh?” He dips down, looking for your attention. “You like to read it, baby? What do you like to read?”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. “Just…just smut.”

“Yeah? Tell me about it.”

And you’re so embarrassed, yet somehow so enamored, and you tell him before you can stop yourself. “Just…sometimes it’s rough. And…taboo. And…dangerous, I guess.”

He hums again, considering this. “Like to be naughty when you’re alone, don’t you?”

And you feel like you’re on fire, burying your face in your hands with a soft groan until he immediately tugs them back down.

“Uh-uh,” he warns, and goosebumps dance down your skin from where he’s touching you. “What did I say, hm? None of that. Come on.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I just…I’m so nervous.”

Another soft smile as he cups your cheek and scoots closer. He’s everywhere. You can smell him, you can feel him. You can practically taste him and it leaves you with this insatiable need for more.

“I know,” he says calmly. “But it’s just me, yeah? You’ve known me forever. You know I’d never want to hurt you or scare you or embarrass you. And I’d never judge you.”

“I know,” you echo. “This is just all so…real.”

He hums and seems to consider something. Then, he nods his chin at you. “I wanna try something. Would that be all right?”

You swallow. “Okay.”

“Close your eyes.”

Your lashes flutter. “What?”

“Close your eyes. Just for a minute.”

So, you do. And the living room falls eerily quiet as you wait for whatever instruction might come next.

But it never comes. He has no instruction. He’s quiet.

And then…

He’s kissing you.

Soft lips ghost across your own. They tease and they taunt. You can’t see him, but you can feel him—can taste him. He’s kissing you, and he’s taking your mouth against his, and he’s so…he’s so.

And not being able to see him does wonders. Because you lose all inhibitions and simply take. You accept what he’s offering and you delight in doing so.

He was right.

You grow hungrier—needier. You let your hands find his shoulders and hoist yourself up onto your knees. In turn, he takes hold of your hips to keep you steady and helps bring you onto his lap. It’s like you’re one. Like you’ve rehearsed this, done it a million times. A fluid, lustful, heavy dance that ends with pants and whispers of each other’s names.

And you forget how strange this might be. You forget your hesitations and your concerns. You allow yourself to have him and to enjoy it.

And it’s perfect.

When you finally open your eyes, you feel much braver. Ready to do what he came here to do.

His cheeks are flushed. His lips are pink and slightly swollen. His pupils are dilated and he’s wearing the softest grin—like a warm sweater.

“Please?” you whisper, and his Adam’s apple bobs.

“Where?” he asks.

“Bedroom.” It might sound like a demand, but you’ve never felt so submissive. “Please, Harry—”

He picks you up. Carries you down the hall and toward your bed. He’s been here before, seen it a hundred times when he and Rebecca would come over for movie nights or dinners.

But it’s different now and you both know it. He treats your space with reverence. Treats you with reverence. Awe. You are…everything to him in this moment. He makes you the center of his world, the focus of his attention.

And you have to remind yourself not to fall in love with him.

He drops you onto the mattress with care but just a bit of roughness. Exactly the way you like.

He follows after you. Slots his body between your thighs and brings his lips back to yours. You kiss until you feel dizzy. It’s quick and eager and tantalizing. He moves to your neck while your fingers move for his shirt. He nips at your throat and you fumble with the hem. And he only stops kissing you so you can slip the shirt over his head and toss it toward the floor.

You’ve seen his body before—saw it just today. But now it’s here, in your hands, in your bed, in your room. And it’s glorious. Tan, strong, firm. Covered in tattoos that make you want to drool and rippling with muscles you didn’t even know someone could have.

You want to gaze but he’s already back on your neck, sucking bruises below your ear. And then…his hand is on your thigh.

You’re tempted to freeze—to be reminded of how odd the situation—but you don’t allow yourself to succumb to the overthinking. You enjoy the feeling of his fingers moving up toward your robe. You enjoy the way they play with the tie as if teasing you. And you enjoy the warmth of his palm as he whispers, “May I?”

You nod until you get a headache. Practically flinging the robe open for him.

He’s gentle as he pulls it undone. Considerate as he pushes it back and reveals your naked body to him.

And there you are. Bare before your best friend’s boyfriend and it’s…

It’s…

Not nearly as strange as it should be.

His expression softens like your nakedness hurts him. In the best way. He groans and he stares and he parts his lips as if dying to take you in his mouth.

And who are you to deny him?

You nod again, allowing him to do whatever he might like, and he’s grateful. So very grateful for you as he guides the robe away from your body, disposes of it, and dives in.

He kisses from your shoulder to your chest. From your chest to your tits. To the valley between and down your stomach. He is practiced, he is patient, he is beautiful. And he feels like heaven.

“Harry,” you nearly whimper, eyes falling shut as you settle back onto the bed.

He squeezes your hips so you know he heard you. “It’s okay, I’ve got you. Just lay still for me, Kitten, okay?”

He’s telling you what to do. You listen.

He pulls your legs apart and scoots back. He wants to taste you. You can see that he wants nothing more. But he stops to look up at you. Wanting permission. Wanting to hear you say that he’s allowed and that you want it, too.

“Yes,” you manage to choke out. “Yes, go. It’s fine.”

He rubs his thumbs along your skin to soothe you. “Can you do something for me, baby?”

Anything, anything, anything.

“Want you to grab my hair,” he tells you. “Want you to pull it, yank it, whatever. Want you to show me what feels good. Yeah?”

“Okay,” you agree breathily. “Promise.”

He grins and it’s all teeth. He returns his kisses to you. He starts at your bent knee. He goes down your inner thigh. He travels across your hip.

And finally…finally.

He’s gentle with your clit at first. A few kisses, just to prepare you. Getting a feel for your body, letting you get a feel for his mouth. For his face between your legs.

You bring a shaky hand to his hair and card your fingers through, fulfilling your vow. His hair feels good against your palm. Like butter. You gather him in your fist and tug.

His lashes flutter in response. He hums again—louder. You can feel it against your pussy and it makes your toes curl.

His hands keep you from bucking up, but he seems pleased when you try. He likes that you feel good. He likes that he gets to use his power to keep you still.

“Har…Harry,” you whimper, and he groans again. He likes the sound of his name in your mouth. “Shit—”

He slaps your hip. A warning. “Good girls don’t use bad language. Do they?”

No. You shake your head. Your heart is racing. “Please…”

He’s happy again. Moving his mouth down your cunt until he can taste the beginnings of your arousal beginning to gather. “You’re so good for me, Kitten. You know that? Being so well behaved.”

You love his praise. You always have. Winning his approval means the world, and now, in this moment, it means that much more. You want to make him happy. To please him. To do what he wants.

You yank on his curls and he seems to melt between your thighs. He moves back to your clit and sucks. Flicks you with his tongue and basks in the sound of your whiny cries.

“There you go,” he says, and it’s more to himself. “I’ve got you.”

You’re shaking. Overcome by this feeling and by the impending release. It’s really going to happen. Harry is going to make you cum, and you never thought you’d see the day.

He knows you’re close. Knows you can’t fight it and he doesn’t want you to. He steadies his technique. Goes harder, faster. Gives you everything you’re asking for. You are puddy in his hands. Clay for him to mold. You are whatever he wants you to be in this moment and you’re more than all right with that.

He brings a finger to your hole and gently slips it inside. The fullness of such a large digit makes your brain turn to mush and you whimper again as you yank on his hair. He’s pleased.

“That’s what you needed, hm?” He sinks to the knuckle and starts to pump. “Just needed my fingers, yeah?”

“Yes…yes.” He’s so good. So very good.

“I know,” he hums, and it’s almost condescending. He feels bad that you’re so easy. “Take whatever I’ll give you, won’t you?”

You will. He knows it. You know it. If all he did was look at you, you’d feel grateful to be under the warmth of his gaze.

“Tell me, Kitten,” he continues, dragging his tongue up the length of your cunt. From his finger to your clit. “Do the boys in your books do it like this?”

You don’t want to think about your books at a time like this. Not when you have him. Real and here. In your bed. Your clit in his mouth.

“Do they?” he pushes and adds a second finger. How does he expect you to speak? “Hm? Is this what you dream about? When you fuck yourself in this bed? You dream about someone tasting you? Burying their face in your sweet pussy?”

You whimper. You writhe. You cling to his curls and try not to disappear.

“Speak,” he murmurs, and slaps your inner thigh.

You whine again and pant, “Yes.”

“Yes, Sir,” he corrects you, and lifts his head. He’s glistening in you. He’s beautiful. “M’not your friend here, Kitten. I’m the one making you cum. You will remember that.”

And you will. Because he is better than your books. He is considerate, and he is good, and he is making you cum before you can stop yourself.

Your back arches from the bed. Your chest caves in on itself. Your legs squeeze the sides of his head and he fucking loves it.

He releases your hips so he can grab onto your thighs and press them hard to his cheeks. He wants to suffocate in you. You want to let him.

“Harry—” you gasp. He slaps your leg. “Sir…I…”

You can’t say anything else. He knows. It’s okay. He rides you through. Takes every drop on his tongue. Swallows you down. Feeds on you. Indulges in you.

Today you are his.

And still, he’s not through. He begins again. He knows you’re sensitive and he knows it won’t be long before you give him another.

He adds a third finger and begins to thrust inside your quivering cunt. He says, “How many times do they make their girls cum?”

You glance down. “What?”

“Your books. Your fantasies. Your dirty smut that gets you off. How many times do they make the girl cum?”

You think. You can’t think. “I…I don’t know—”

“You do,” he argues and nips at your pussy. “Because I bet you wish it was more. I bet you make yourself cum for every time they do. I bet you fuck yourself while you read and pretend that it’s you.”

He’s right. You hate that he’s right. You hate that it’s so obvious.

“How many?” he repeats. “Once? Twice? Do they give up after that? Are they as good as you want them to be?”

You can’t hear him through the pounding in your ear. The second one is close. You’re shaking, trembling, dying. It’s already unraveling. You’re too far gone.

He pumps you through your second and carries right on to your third. “Shame you never called me. Shame you never read your little books and thought to ask me for help. Should’ve known I would have.”

Your cheeks are growing warm again. You’re embarrassed and sensitive to the touch.

He notices. “You thought about it, didn’t you?” he realizes aloud, and he sounds almost proud. “Thought about me when you touched yourself.”

You shake your head but it’s a lie. You both know it.

“You did,” he repeats, and he’s smirking. “Did you picture me when you read? Picture me in your dirty little taboo fantasy? D’you picture my cock? My hands? My mouth?”

You did, and you’re embarrassed, and he loves it.

“Did I make you cum?” he whispers, and slips a fourth finger inside. “Hm? Did I have you coming all over your pretty hand? All over your sheets? Or did you use a toy, baby?”

You squirm. You try to fight him, try to fight this orgasm, try to fight what he’s making you remember. But it’s useless.

“How many times did I make you cum?” he nearly purrs, and it’s over. It’s all over. You are powerless to him, and you embrace it. “How many times did you cum for me while you were reading your naughty little books—”

You don’t hear the rest. You’re unraveling for the third time before he can find his answer. But that’s more than all right because this was the answer he really wanted, anyway.

He strokes your skin as you come down. Then, he pulls his fingers out, takes them in his mouth, and swallows you. Waiting until you’ve caught your breath before he’s crawling back up your body and slipping his tongue against yours.

He kisses you, and you taste everything. Him, you, and five years of memories shared between you. Rebecca slowly starts to dissolve from the picture and now it’s just the two of you. In every flashback, every moment. Maybe it was always him and you.

You reach for his belt. You want his jeans off. You want your hands around his cock. You want to hold him, ride him, gag on him. You’re impatient and he’s amused and it feels as though time is moving far too slow.

“Easy,” he tuts, but he kisses you again. “M’gonna give you my cock, Kitten, just have to wait for me, yeah?”

You pout. He kisses it away. “Can’t wait, Sir. Need it.”

Sir makes him grin, and this seems to work in your favor. “You can’t, hm? Well, what if I wanna take my time?”

You groan and you whimper and you fling your arms around his neck to pull him close and plead with him. “Please,” you whisper, kissing along his neck, and his skin tastes divine. “Please fuck me, Sir. I need it. Might die.”

He chuckles, and the vibration of his chest makes your insides twitch. “I bet. S’been a long time, hasn’t it?”

Three years, and while you know sex isn’t necessary to survive…now that you’re here…you feel rather insatiable.

Because it’s not the fact that you haven’t had sex in three years that’s making you anxious. It’s the fact that you haven’t had sex with him. And you need to. You need him to scratch this itch that only he can scratch. And you need him to do it now.

“Are you gonna let me take care of you?” he asks, and you want to cry. He’s so good. “Can I do that, Kitten? Can I make it better?”

You nod, and you’re dizzy, and you’re dripping onto your sheets below. You feel so empty without him.

He laughs again and it’s heaven. “Good girl. Take off my jeans, okay?”

You do, and you do it well. They’re off in under thirty-five seconds and on the floor, next to your robe and his shirt. Your clothes look good together. It makes you smile.

He nods at his boxers, the only thing left between you. “Take ‘em off.”

You do. You roll the dark band down his gorgeously strong thighs and help him slip out of them before they’re joining the collection on the ground.

He’s got a large tattoo on his left leg that’s just begging to be licked and muscles in his calves that make your pussy clench.

You stare at him and you probably drool and he’s laughing again.

He slips his finger under your chin once more and lifts your head until your eyes meet. He is a meadow. Gentle and calm. “Do you want a taste, Kitten?”

More nodding, more drooling. He kneels and you scoot closer, grasping onto his thighs to brace yourself as you stare at him.

He’s hard, and big, and leaking in a way that makes your throat go dry. He is better than you wanted him to be and he is better than the books and he is real.

You dip down and you allow your lips to graze his tip. He smiles and puts a hand on your head to guide you. Comfort you. Control you in just the right way.

You extend your tongue and drag it up the side. He tastes good. More so than you expected. It’s like candy, and you lick and lick until you needily begin to take him into your mouth.

He squeezes your scalp lightly. Easy. You’re going fast and he wants to go slow. He wants you to enjoy yourself.

But you are. How could you not? He’s heavy in your mouth and you never thought you’d enjoy sucking someone’s cock as much as you do his. Maybe it’s true what they say. Maybe you really do get pleasure out of pleasing him.

You take more. As much as you can bear. Your eyes flutter shut. You’re tempted to gag but you don’t, not yet. You don’t want him to think you can’t take him. You want to be good. As good as he was for you.

He slips his fingers into your roots and tugs. “Baby,” he warns softly. “Don’t push yourself—”

You keep going. You groan around him and he curses at the feel of your throat. You go further. Until your eyes are screwing shut and your breathing becomes labored.

Suddenly, he’s yanking on you. Pulling you off as a string of saliva drips from his cock to your mouth.

“Hey,” he grunts, and he looks at you. You want to shrink. “I told you to go easy, yeah? You have nothing to prove to me, Kitten. This is not about doing something you think I need you to do. I want you to do it because you want to do it. It’s not a competition. I’m not gonna be disappointed if you can’t take much of me.”

You frown. “I know, but…I want to. I really do want to. I just…you’re big, Ha—Sir. You’re so big.”

You’re feeding his ego (but you’re also telling the truth) and he exhales a soft laugh. “I know,” he repeats. “But forcing yourself will only hurt. Besides, this is about you, yeah?”

Your expression falls. Another reminder that he’s only here as a service. To get you off and then get out. He won’t be spending the night, and he won’t be calling you tomorrow to set up the next time, and he won’t be promising that he’ll train your throat open to take his cock.

You nod. You concede. Bring your hands to your lap and pull yourself away.

Now he’s frowning. He smooths his palm down the back of your neck and tugs you to him. He looks at you and he’s looking for what you’re really thinking. Something shifted. He wants to know what. Why.

“This is about you,” he says again, and you wish he’d stop. “Believe me, I’d be happy to have you gag on me, but that’s not what we’re doing tonight, okay? Not tonight.”

And it’s not a promise of next time. You know that. But not tonight implies something more open-ended than before and you finally smile. “Okay.”

He sweeps his thumb along your throat. “Can I fuck you now, baby?”

“God, yes,” you breathe, and nearly drag him on top of you.

He smiles again and you feel whole. The dance continues. He kisses you and situates himself between your thighs, and you are so very ready.

“Shit, wait, hold on,” he says, and you almost burst into tears. “I need to grab the condoms—”

“No,” you nearly shout, and his brow raises. “No, I…we’re both clean. And I’m on the pill. Why…why don’t we just…not? Maybe?”

It’s selfish, you know it’s selfish. But you want to feel him. You don’t want something keeping him from you and you want to know that he actually fucked you.

You like condoms. You prefer condoms. But not now. Not with him. You have to know he really did this. You need to feel him in your pussy for years to come.

He looks at you. “You’re on the pill?” He doesn’t answer your question.

“Yeah. I take ‘em for cramps and regulation and stuff.” You wince. Talking about cramps is not sexy. “The point is…if you want…I mean, I want, but if you want…?”

He thinks about this. Brushes your hip with his thumb. Thinks. “I don’t mind, but only if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” you exhale. “God, I’m sure. Honestly. As long as you are. And…and Rebecca. I don’t know if you guys have a rule…or anything.”

You wince again. You don’t want to bring up Rebecca, either. But you know you have to. You know she’s your friend, and she’s Harry’s partner, and this has to be asked. It has to be considered.

So, he considers it. “Most of the time we have a rule, yeah. For safety and peace of mind. But that’s when it’s other people. She doesn’t mind if we do or don’t. She said it’s up to me.”

“You talked about it?”

“Yeah.” Of course they did. Honesty. “When I was grabbing the condoms. I asked if you had a preference, she said she didn’t think so. Said we could just go without if we wanted. As long as I got tested after.”

“Right.” You almost feel weird knowing they talked about you. But what did you expect? “And…do you want to?”

Another beat. He looks at you. Really looks at you. “I want to fuck you. I want to feel you. I think we’ve taken all of the right steps and I feel comfortable going without. As long as you do.”

“I do,” you assure him again. “I really, really do.”

He smiles. “Good.” He drags his tip down your cunt, gathering your arousal. “Then I wanna start like this. Wanna see your face. Make sure you’re doing all right.”

You nod quickly.

“And I wanna see you when you cum on my cock for the first time,” he whispers huskily before steadying himself above you.

You are giddy. He is everything. He is so much better than your books and he is lining himself up with you and he is big, and ready, and beautiful.

He kisses you again. “Deep breath, okay? Try to relax. Don’t want to hurt you.”

You do breathe. You do try to relax. You let your mind wander to a world where he does this to you every night. Where your pussy happily accepts him and knows him and molds to him.

He pushes in. You reel.

Still, he is good, and gentle, and kind. He kisses you more. He distracts you, even though he doesn’t need to. You pretend that he’s imagining a world with you, too.

He sinks in further, and life is perfect. Your nails claw at his back—at the many muscles that tense beneath your touch. Your leg hooks to his hip, your heel against his ass. You draw him in. You plead with him for more. You say his name, you moan, you shiver.

“Shh,” he coos, and he wraps his hand around your throat. He remembers what you like, and he squeezes gently. “Let me do this, don’t rush me.”

You whimper, “Sir,” and he kisses you again. You are addicted to his tongue.

He finally buries himself all the way, hips against yours, chests flush together. He’s heavy and he’s warm. Like a weighted blanket and you feel so safe. You’ve missed the feeling of another body on top of you. Of that connection and intimacy. That protection. It’s even better when it’s him.

You cling to him and ask every star in the sky not to take him from you. “Please move, Sir.”

He draws back. He begins to fuck you, and he’s so big. He stretches you, claims you. Owns you, truly. He sucks your tit into his mouth and you melt between his lips. He nips, and pulls, and groans. And you hate everyone he’s ever been with before. You wish you were his only.

He starts going faster. But not too fast. He wants to make you anxious for it. He wants you to beg. Wants you to unravel yourself from need alone. And you’re so close to doing just that.

“Good girl,” he praises, and your heart cracks down the middle. “Taking me so well. Is this what you needed, Kitten? Needed someone to fuck this tight little pussy until you felt better?”

You nod and you whimper again. He’s fucking you back to life. What happens when he leaves?

You shake the thought free and focus on now. His body feels good against yours. His teeth are perfect on your throat. His curls are soft and his skin is tan and his cock is fucking magic.

He’s relentless. Thick. Splitting you open and drawing you in. Your tits bounce from the thrusts and your back arches from the bed and his face is delicious.

He’s watching you closely, just like he said. He’s studying your reactions, your noises, your gasps for air and mercy. He wants to know he’s giving you what you wanted. He wants to know he’s doing it right.

And of course he is. He has to know that. He has to assume he’s better than the average man. You wonder if he learned this from Rebecca or someone else. You wonder what would happen if you were his. Could you be okay with him sleeping with other people? Could you accept that he still wants you?

You close your eyes and scrunch your nose. You’re doing it again. You’re letting yourself imagine a world you can’t have. You aren’t being present; you aren’t enjoying what you’re being given now.

Suddenly, his hand is back on your throat. He’s squeezing, but pointedly. Asking for your attention.

“Hey,” he murmurs, just as stern as before. You look up. “What is this? What is this face for, what’s wrong?”

You blink and then realize your expression is still bunched. You relax. “Nothing, sorry.”

“Hey.” Firm. Unrelenting. He stops thrusting and you want to die. “Baby, you can’t do that. I told you I need communication, I need honesty. If I’m hurting you, you have to tell me—”

“No,” you insist quickly. You take hold of his shoulders and then his hips as though to get him to continue. “No, that’s not it. I promise. Don’t stop.”

He doesn’t move. “Then what was the face for? What’s wrong?”

You huff. Sigh. Squeeze his waist. “Nothing, I promise. I was just…thinking about something I shouldn’t. And I wanted to stop.”

“Stop fucking? Or stop thinking?”

“Thinking. I wanted to be here. With you.”

He relaxes now and you feel his cock twitch. “Kitten, I want you here with me, too. If you’re not, we can stop for a while—”

“No,” you groan. You feel like a child about to throw a temper tantrum. “No, I swear. I am here. I am. And if you stop, then I won’t be, and it might kill me.”

He sighs now. It’s heavy. “Nobody else exists outside of this room except you and me, yeah? Just us.”

You melt. “Yeah…”

He kisses you. “I want you here with me, baby,” he exhales, and it’s like he’s breathing the sentiment into your lungs. “I need you here. With me. On my cock. Don’t want you to think about anybody else. It’s just us.”

You nod again, and you claw at him, and you beg him to keep going. He does. It fixes everything.

When your fourth hits you, you see the stars. Even if they aren’t in your favor, they are bright, and warm, and they carry you through to the other side.

And once you’ve caught your breath, Harry pulls out.

You’re tempted to wither, to cry, to beg him to stay but he’s already flipping you around onto your stomach and driving himself back in.

Now you understand. And you’re ecstatic. He’s rough. Pulling your hair, forcing your cheek to the bed, slapping his palm against your ass.

“Give me another,” he demands, and he sounds angry, but he’s not. He’s ready. “Just like you would for your little book boys. You fucking cum for me, right now. Let me feel you. Let me cum with you.”

He slams into you and it’s so full. You could cum for a lifetime and still never feel finished.

He spanks you again. Grips your hair. Forces your nose into the duvet until it’s hard to breathe. It’s rough. Deep. And still…he’s caring for you. You know he’s making sure he isn’t pushing too far. Just enough. You love it.

“What a sweet little pussy,” he seethes, but it’s thick with lust. “Can’t believe you’ve fucking kept this from me for five years. All this time and you were right here.”

You’re glad he can’t see you now. He might be afraid of how happy that sentence makes you.

“S’all I’m gonna think about,” he says. “Tasting you. Fucking you. Feeling you. Gonna dream of this pretty pussy every goddamn night.”

You moan. You hope he does. Hope he dreams of it when he’s lying next to her.

No. You scrunch your nose. You reject it. You ignore it.

He spanks you. Kneads your ass in his hand, then spanks you again. “Gotta promise me something, Kitten. Yeah? Gotta promise me that you’re gonna think of me, too.”

And you are. Of course you are. You always do. “Yes…yes, Sir. I promise.”

Another slap and squeeze to your scalp. “Good fucking girl. Now cum. Fucking cum for me, baby.”

You want to. But not before he does. You need to feel him, too, and you hold off as best you can until you feel him twitch.

“Kitten,” he says, and you’re ready. “Want you to make me another promise, yeah? Want you to take my cum…and keep it. Keep it in your little pussy, even after I leave. Okay?”

You nod quickly. You will. Of course you will. God, how could he think you wouldn’t?

Your promise tips him over, and he cums, and he’s loud, and it’s the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard.

You wish you could see him. It’s so cruel that you can’t, and you try to glance back to catch even a glimpse. You see his brows scrunch together, see his mouth drop open, see his cheeks flush from the force.

And seeing him tips you over. You cum together, a mess of moans, and pants, and nicknames. Sweaty bodies connecting as he collapses on top of you, further burying you into the mattress. And it’s so hot and you can’t breathe, but you have never felt more alive. This moment is infinite. He is infinite, and you are infinite with him.

“Shit,” he says, and you have to agree. “You’re so good, baby. So fucking good. Can’t believe you’ve kept that from me.”

It’s the second time he’s said it. You wonder if he realizes. “I didn’t do anything, this was all you.”

He snorts. “Kitten, I had nothing to do with how fucking good that was. Believe me. You…are fucking perfect. Every cute little flutter of your cunt. Your tits. Those big eyes…”

The room falls silent. You imagine he wants to turn you around and see you, but he doesn’t. He’s keeping himself inside you for as long as he can.

“Thank you,” you whisper, and the sentiment doesn’t feel strong enough. “For…for doing that, I mean. And…for not making it weird. I know I was probably kind of…rusty and nervous, and I just—”

“No.” He shakes his head. Squeezes your hip. Kisses your bare back until you fall silent. “You are perfect. Okay? That was perfect. I really, really enjoyed it.”

You smile. You are happy and miserable all in the same moment. “Me, too.”

You want to ask if you’ll be doing it again. You want to pretend that he’s not gonna leave you and go back to her. That he’s not Rebecca’s Harry or Just Harry.

That he’s Your Harry.

But all good things must come to an end. He will leave. And you will let him.

“Now what?” you dare to ask.

A small beat. “We don’t have to talk about it after I leave…if that’s what you still want,” he says next, and your chest feels heavy. “I just want to make sure you’re all right before I do. That you pee, and you drink your water, and you take it easy. I know I went kind of hard on you.”

“But it was good,” you tell him, and you grin at the memory. It feels so far away. “Really good. Everything I wanted.”

“Yeah?” He kisses you more. The space between your shoulders. Your neck. Your cheek. “Any notes?”

You laugh. “No notes. God, no. You’re like a sex god.”

“Better than your books?”

“So much fucking better.”

“Hm.” More kisses. “Don’t tell me that. I’ll get a big head.”

“You already have one,” you attempt to tease, and he laughs, too. “Both of them.”

The room fills with giggles until you both fall silent again. He doesn’t leave. You don’t make him.

“Do we…tell Rebecca?” you ask. “Like…the details and things?”

“Only if you want to.” He stops kissing you now but rests his cheek on your head. “She doesn’t expect us to, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

You nod. You like Rebecca. You can’t imagine you’d be so relaxed if you were in her position. “And this…works for you guys? The open relationship?”

“Yeah.” He smiles. Nods. “We have a lot of love and trust and I think that’s why. It’s what we both want.”

You resist the urge to scrunch your nose. You’re happy for him. For both of them, you are. This really is what’s best and you’re so glad they have each other. And you’re glad that they’re both willing to explore it with you and still keep you in their lives.

“Is it just sex?” you ask next, despite your better judgment. “Or…like, what if you wanted to date someone else? Or is that not what it means?”

“We can date around if we want. We haven’t in a while, just because we can’t seem to find people we like enough to keep around.” He smirks. “But we could. It’s not as rigid as it sounds.”

He finally pulls out and you want to cry. You feel cold and empty.

However, he’s quick to scoop the dribbling cum from your pussy and push it back in. Just for a little while longer.

You close your legs and smile. “I don’t think it’s rigid as long as it’s what you want.”

He smiles back. “It is.”

You shift now. You feel nervous again. “So…then, I guess by the rules and things…it wouldn’t be…totally weird to see if you wanted to do it again? Not that we have to—we could, I mean. Or not, if you don’t want. Or maybe I should ask her. Or you can. Or…actually, it’s dumb, never mind. I don’t know why I thought—”

He grabs your chin. Presses his thumb to your lips to quiet you. “Kitten, breathe.”

You do.

“We can do it again,” he says, and you have never felt so happy. You feel as though you were just set on fire. Your skin is tingling, and your insides are twisting, and your pussy is clenching. “We don’t have to ask permission. We’re adults. We can do whatever we’d like. That’s the point of an open relationship.”

You nod. You want to kiss him. “Okay. Are you…I mean, do you want to? We don’t have to just because I do, honestly. I just…we both liked it, so I thought maybe we’d want to. Unless it wasn’t really that good for you, which I would understand—”

“Kitten.”

You stop. You breathe.

He chuckles. “I would love to fuck you again. And again. And again. As many times as you’ll let me.”

You’re practically shaking. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He grins. He can tell how giddy you are. “What are you doing next Friday?”

“I am doing whatever you want me to.”

The expression that splits his face is like sunshine. He loves this answer, and he loves your pussy, and perhaps one day…he’ll love you, too.

“Good fucking girl,” he breathes, and surges forward to kiss you.

And maybe…this wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

Next Part:

~ Insatiable You*

~ Full Infinite You Masterlist

~ Main Masterlist

Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @iguessyourejustwhatineeded @dylanobandposts21 @butdaddyilovehim-hs

#harry #harry styles #harry edward styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles x you #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan #harry styles smut #harry styles request #harry styles concept #smut #concept #friend!harry

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marlenesluv · 1 month

Text

lando + dealing with his gf after cheating scandals

note: i do not view lando as a cheater in any way, shape, or form. but, amidst the new lando and magui rumors, i thought, “hmmm, what if these rumors circulated while he had a gf, aka reader, and it was because of lando and said gf not being public. so, mclaren needed pr for lando to be responsible, so they told him to go out with magui, EUGH, and yada yada you’ll get it!” also i changed locations and shit for the plot lol.

important note: it’s not okay to hate on magui, don’t do it. i don’t agree with what she’s done, but hate def isn’t the answer, especially with neither she, nor lando, gaf about what we have to say. i just used her since they have pics together so, you can imagine someone else if you’d like. the focus is lando x reader here :)

type: this is a head-cannon, but there’s mixes of smau.

pairing: lando norris x secret!gf!fem

warnings: angst but there’s fluff, dw

۵ being landos secret girlfriend was difficult at times.

۵ when you were alone at your shared house? easy. you could talk as loud as you wanted, cuddle on the couch for hours, you could be a real couple.

۵ but once lando left for the races, it’s like he was a stranger.

۵ you felt like a fan watching her crush on television. not a girlfriend.

۵ a girlfriend would be there, in person, supporting her boyfriend. she would be there in the paddock, just like lily was. watching alex and hugging him after a race. or like rebecca, smiling up at her boyfriend like he put the stars in the sky as he won a race.

۵ but you? you watched your boyfriend from the couch, working and making sure that he hadn’t crashed between emails.

۵ yeah, lando would text you and call you, but that’s not the same. not when all you want to do is be there for him in person.

۵ but you couldn’t. unfortunately, last time lando had a girlfriend they broke up. they broke up because of the fans. lando felt pressured to move quickly with her, and he didn’t really even want to date like that. he just wanted fun at the time.

۵ not with you, though. you were different. he loved you and knew from the second you two met at the bar that you were meant for him. he loved everything about you. and neither of you wanted fans or media to ruin it.

۵ but nothing everything is avoidable. hearts get broken, even when- no, especially when you least expect it.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Liked by: f1wags, f1updates, and 72,194 others

f1wagupdates: update!! lando has been spotted today with magui corceiro in australia after the grand prix! fans saw they saw magui attend the race as well, and now the two and being seen hanging out? do we hear a new wag coming? a new couple?

view comments…

user4: i mean…she’s messy but ok

user1: she’s prettyyyy holy shit

user77: isn’t she friends with kika??

user25: yes!

user3: he doesn’t look happy….

user90: meh

user41: looks forced

user2: my mannnnn

user0: honestly, he needed a new gf. he’s been single foreverrrrr

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

۵ and after those headlines popped up, you were done for.

۵ tears? flowing. tissues? everywhere. landos calls? declined.

۵ you frankly didn’t want to talk to him. the mere idea of him cheating on you made you suck to your stomach.

۵ but maybe it made sense. he wanted a public relationship now…maybe?

۵ lando knew he should have told you. he knew he should have told you that mclaren told him o hangout with her to help pr. to make him seem responsible after the grand prix.

۵ lando knew he fucked up. and after not answering his texts and checking instagram and seeing the gossip posts, he knew why. the tags were insane, and he was stressing.

۵ the only girl he loved didn’t want to talk to him, and he was thousands of miles away.

۵ all because of a stupid pr stunt.

۵ lando booked a flight home as he sent a text to magui:

lando norris: hey, magui. i know this pr thing was supposed to last, but i’m done.

magui: oh…ok?

lando: sorry. can you book a flight for yourself?

magui: i’ll ask kika

magui: tell your girlfriend i’m sorry

lando: ???

magui: you obviously have one, lando. it’s fine. i’m sure she’s beautiful

lando: she is

*lando has blocked this number*

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Liked by: y/n.user, danielricciardo, and 1,925,105 others

landonorris: rumors are lame, so here’s the truth. i have a girlfriend, we’ve been dating for two years, and i love her with every fiber of my being. we’ve kept this relationship private for her safety and to go through everything as a pair, not in-front of the world. unfortunately, rumors spread, and they spread fast. but those rumors stem from mclaren pulling this pr move, one to make people think i was in a relationship to make me seem “responsible and mature.” whatever. i am, by the way. but i am in a relationship, not with magui though. i love you @y/n.user ❤️

view comments…

*only certain profiles can reply to this post*

y/n.user: oh my god. get home so i can smack you and then give you a kiss

landonorris: smack me??

y/n.user: you posted my TOES

oscarpiastri: double dates?

landonorris: well that’ll be thrilling

y/n.user: awwww that’s adorable yes

lilyzneimer: i just need to meet y/n too!!💞

danielricciardo: wow, he finally admits it

carlossainz55: i think everyone knew, mate. but ok!

charles_leclerc: congratulations! alex says she can’t wait to meet y/n!!

savnorris: bring her to christmas this year!!

landonorris: i will, don’t fret

olivernorris1: no one was “fretting”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

۵ lando loved you, and he had to prove it once his plane landed.

۵ cuddles for days, home cooked meals (to his best ability), movie nights, appreciation posts, etc.

۵ you moved on from the incident. you understood, especially after an explaining from zak, along with a run down of paddock rules.

۵ races were fun, you loved going and the fans loved you.

۵ oscar’s girlfriend, lily, was wonderful and you two got along perfect. so talking with her while lando and oscar races was nice.

۵ you weren’t fond of how you got here, but you were fond of being here.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

(reposts, comments, and likes are appreciated!^-^)

1K notes · View notes

papercorgiworld · 3 months

Text

Wear my name, be my girl

Theo, Blaise, Draco, Enzo and Mattheo

Bonus: Regulus Black (Marauders era)

An innocent laugh with the Weasley twins before the quidditch game gets someone jealous. When he intervenes it becomes clear that he wants you to wear his jacket and be his girl.

Thanks to this request!

I kinda processed the request wrong in my brain and instead of just writing for Theo and Mattheo, I wrote it for all of them. I wanted to write for Tom II Riddle but he doesn’t give me quidditch vibes, so I’m sorry no Tom. Also, not to sure about this piece, but I did have fun writing this. Anyways hopefully you have fun reading it.

For the Regulus Black bonus you can skip the intro.

It was a sunny, but chilly day. You breathe in the fresh air and head for the quidditch stadium. You arrived at the entrance and looked over to see if your friends were already at your regular spot, not noticing that a certain slytherin was staring at you. The slytherin team had just finished warming up when you arrived and he was about to get off his broom and leave his friends when the Weasley twins approached you.

“Early bird are we?” Fred sings as he sees you scanning the stands. You nod and smile, happy to have found someone you know. “Apparently too early, my friends aren’t here yet.” Fred chuckles and takes a step closer. “We’re here. We’ll keep you company.” George senses someone staring and looks over to the slytherins. “Yeaah. That might cost us the freaking game.” You and Fred look a bit confused at George’s words, so he points in the direction of the slytherins “Your boyfriend doesn’t seem too pleased with us.” You follow his finger and you can’t help but blush, before quickly looking away. “Not my boyfriend.” You chuckle. Unfortunately.

“Mind telling him that.” Fred jokes. “Hermoine told us he’s crazy obsessed with you always trying to impress you and stuff.” You shake your head at George’s words. “Don’t believe everything she says.” Fred smiles, noticing the slight blush on your face. “She says he’s answering questions during class faster than she can.” George says and Fred immediately follows. “And let’s not forget that whenever he flies near you he’s always doing cool tricks to get your attention.” George nods in agreement. “This game is going to be a curse, since he’s going to be even more arrogant and more eager to win.” Fred looks back to you. “And the way he’s staring daggers right now. That’s just unhealthy behavior.” You lick your lips and smile as the twins complain. “You guys really don’t like him?” Fred and George are baffled by your ridiculous question. “No, we don’t like him at all.” They both sing with humor as they state the obvious, making you laugh so hard you place a hand on your chest.

Theodore

You were too busy laughing to notice Theodore walk over to you, but the Weasley’s do see him and quickly say their goodbyes. You look up at Theodore when he stops next to you, but continues to stare at Fred and George with dead eyes. “Please, don’t curse them.” You chuckle and make Theo look at you. “What were you talking about? You know they’re just fools, no good knuckleheads.” You stare at him through your lashes, judging him with your eyes only. He sighs and throws his head to the side. “Maybe I’m overreacting but I don’t want them to get the wrong idea.” Your expression changes as you think for a moment. “What do you mean?” Theodore shrugs. “If you’re always nice to them they might think you like them.”

You frown for a second. “But I do like them.” Theodore rolls his eyes, a bit annoyed by how oblivious you were. “I mean like as in really really like them.” You chuckle at the suggestion. “Theo, we’re talking about Fred and George. We’re really just friends. And don’t tell me that guys and girls can’t be friends, because we’re friends.” His face goes blank and you struggle to figure out what he’s thinking. After a few seconds Theo presses his lips into a line. “Right, of course.” Theodore almost wants to reach for his chest as he feels his heart squeeze. Arm I stuck in the friendzone? How did I end up in the friendzone? He tries to shake the insecure feeling that slowly creeps up on him, but just then he notices Fred and George looking your way and snickering.

“Uhm, silly idea, but how about you wear this for good luck and to make sure that nobody bothers you again.” You watch him carefully take off his jacket and feel yourself get flustered at the idea of wearing a jacket with the name Nott on it. A nervous laugh rolls over your lips. “People will think something is going on between us. Earlier George already referred to you as my boyfriend.” You bite your lip softly after saying that last bit and Theodore can’t help but wonder if you would like him to be your boyfriend. He definitely wants to be yours. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” He smirks when he notices you blushing at his words. He takes a step closer to you and watches your pretty face heat up a little more as he drapes his jacket over your shoulders.

You slip your arms in the sleeves and allow yourself to get comfortable. You scan Theo’s face in an attempt to figure out what he’s thinking about, but just then Mattheo, who was running late, enters the stadium. As he passes you he notices you’re wearing Theo’s jacket. “Finally won her over, Notty-boy? About time.” Mattheo jokes and wants to ruffle Theo’s hair, but Theodore angrily pushes his hand away and gives Mattheo a scowl. Mattheo just laughs and walks over to the rest of the team to get scolded by Draco for being late. Theo continues to stare at Mattheo, cursing his friend and avoiding you. You watch Theodore as he refuses to look at you and you’re forced to take a step closer to get his attention. “Just ignore him.” Theo says with a sigh and you smile before looking down at your fidgeting hands. When you look up after a few seconds you’ve made up your mind and shake your head. “No, I won’t ignore it. How about you explain what he meant by ‘finally won her over’.”

Your eyes don’t leave Theodore’s face and a nervous hand moves through his messy hair. His tongue moves over his lips as he searches for the right words. “Let’s just say, I wouldn’t mind if people thought you were my girlfriend, because I like that idea.” You take another step closer to him and look at him with teasing eyes. “You like that idea of…” A smile tugs on his lips as he notices you get closer and urge him to confess. “I like the idea of you being my girlfriend.” A ridiculously happy smile spreads on your lips. “I must say I like that idea as well.” You try to sound as calm as possible, teasing him a little more, but your excitement is obvious. A soft laugh escapes his lips and he quickly reaches for your face holding you for a passionate kiss. When you break the kiss, his lips stay close to yours as you drown in each other’s eyes. “You should go back to your team before Draco freaks out.” He ignores your words and brushes over your bottom lip to ask for another intense kiss. “Just a few more kisses for good luck.”

Blaise

When Blaise approaches you three with his serious demeanor all laughter goes quiet and the twins awkwardly say their goodbyes. As soon as they’re out of sight you turn towards Blaise, who’s frowning in the direction they left. “Don’t worry they’re just being friendly.” He huffs, before finally turning towards you. “Trust me, no guy is ever just friendly.” You frown, before a smirk starts to tug on your lips. “Oh, so every guy has an agenda?” Blaise nods, his eyes still dark with jealousy. “Yes.” He answers without thinking it through and still glancing over in the direction of Fred and George. “So what’s yours?” You ask cheekily, happy that he got caught in your little trap and you cross your arms as you stare up at him. Immediately he looks at you and realizes what he said. You notice a hint of nervousness glimmer in his eyes as he averts his eyes and chuckles.

“Maybe not all guys. All Gryffindor guys. And Matt, he has like three agendas. And Enzo but his agenda is obvious, dude flirts with everyone.” Blaise tries to change the topic by ridiculing his friends. “But you don’t have a secret agenda?” You ask, not pleased with his answer. “Nope.” He tries to sound casual, but his brain is working on an excuse to leave, because he could feel himself heat up. You chuckle. “Good, because for a moment there I thought you were jealous.” Blaise forces an awkward laugh. “Nah. Why would I be?” You take a step closer and bite your lip. “I don’t know, it’s not like we’re dating.” Blaise nods, but there’s a hint of disappointment in his eyes. We’re not dating. I’m very much aware. No need to shove it in my face.

“Anyways, I better get going. Cedric’s waiting for me.” You make up on the spot, hoping to confirm your suspicion. “Cedric?” Blaise’s voice raises a bit, making his displeasure obvious. You try to suppress your cheeky smile and nod seriously. Blaise quickly realizes that he has no reason to keep you away from Cedric, but he hates the idea of you spending the entire game cosying up next to that damn hufflepuff.

Luckily Blaise’s brain comes up with the perfect plan. “Yeah, uhm, but before you go- I was just up there and it gets pretty cold, so… here take this and uhm be sure to wear it so you stay warm.” You can no longer contain your smile as Blaise takes off his jacket and hands it to you. You hold the jacket and stare at the letters forming his name. “Isn’t it weird that I’m wearing this? I mean we’re just friends.” Thanks for the reminder, not necessary. “Friends can wear jackets with their friend’s name on them.” Blaise argues and you laugh softly as you put on his jacket. “I’ve never seen you wear Draco’s.” He loved you wearing his jacket and couldn’t help but stare, ignoring your counter argument. “Would it really be so bad if people thought we were more than friends?” Blaise suddenly blurs, still adoring you in his jacket. He needed to know, because he wanted you to be his girl and wear his name every game, and maybe even have his name one day.

You close the last bit of space between you two, so you’re now almost pressed against him. It’s then that he realizes his feelings might not be one sided. You meet his eyes and with a soft voice you speak up. “No, it wouldn’t-” You fall silent when Blaise tilts your chin up. “And would it be so bad if we were more than friends?” You gently shake your head no and he leans in to kiss you tenderly. “Took you a while.” You tease when the kiss breaks and he smiles. “Shut up.” He whispers, before kissing you again and wrapping his arms around him.

You both break the kiss when you hear the slytherin team cheer for Blaise and you. You look over to them and chuckle. Blaise pulls you against his chest. “How about you wear that jacket to every game and I go search for some new friends.” You laugh at the last bit and press your lips against his. “Don’t worry, if I can have you and your jacket, I’ll gladly make peace with your merry band of idiots.” Blaise leans in for another kiss, but is interrupted by Draco’s yelling. “Hey! You should be preparing for the game.” Blaise rolls your eyes. “Minus Draco.” You joke and Blaise raises his eyebrows in agreement. “One last kiss for good luck?”

Draco frowns in annoyance as you and Blaise kiss for what feels like minutes. “They’re gonna have to part at some point right?” Enzo joins Draco. “I don’t know if I got to kiss her, I wouldn’t need air either.”

Draco

You’re too busy laughing with the twins to notice an agitated Draco strut over to you. It’s only when he literally pushes them aside that you meet his eyes. “Can you fools stop bothering her.” He snaps, his voice poisonous, and you cross your arms looking at Draco with a stern look. “They were not bothering me.” Draco huffs, thinking he clearly knows better than you. “They are always bothering you, talking to you for no reason.” Fred and George snicker. “Like you.” Draco looks at them with disgust and wrinkles his nose, before turning his face towards you. “Walk with me.” He demands with a calm and surprisingly gentle voice.

As soon as you're a few steps away from the Weasleys you meet his eyes with a stern look. “What was that for?” You snap and Draco drops his head knowing that you hated it when he was unkind to your friends. “I was saving you. They were clearly flirting.” You shake your head. “There’s no need for you to be so protective of me.” Draco moves closer to you and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “Yes, I do. You’re sweet, innocent and ridiculously beautiful. If I don’t watch over you… you’ll end up with the wrong type of guy.” You soften, knowing that his concern for you is genuine. “I know you mean well, Draco, but can’t you be a little less aggressive.” Draco sighs, not really seeing any problem in pushing people and snapping at them. He adores your sweet face and calms down. “Maybe there is a less aggressive way to keep idiots away from you.” You look at him questioningly and Draco slips off his jacket.

”Here, wear my quidditch jacket.” He hands it to you and you take it, but then you start to worry. “Isn’t it weird if I wear it? It’s something normally only girlfriends do.” Draco watches you put on his jacket regardless of your own argument and he shrugs. “I’m not really a labels kind of guy, but if you want to be my girlfriend, fine.” Your mouth drops a little. “That’s not what I was saying.” Draco takes your hand and pulls you closer, placing his other hand on the small of your back. You blush as you're now pressed against him. You close your eyes and sigh. “Why can’t you just admit that you like me like a normal person.” Draco licks his lips and waits for you to look up at him, before speaking. “I’m in love with you, (y/n) (y/l/n). Wear my name, be my girl.” You feel stripped of all air as his honest words reach your heart and make it swell. “Happy now?” He whispers and you nod, cheeks burning with color.

“Love confessions aren’t free.” He whispers before slowly leaning in. You smile and meet his lips for a soft kiss. “I’ll wear your name and be your girl.” He stares at you and feels himself fall even more in love with you as you say those words. “Gods, how can one person be so perfect?” He pulls you into a tight embrace, feeling like he needs to keep you close and safe with him. “Cheer for me, will you?” Draco’s soft whisper makes him sound almost vulnerable. You lock his lips with yours, kissing him passionately in an attempt to show him how much you love him. “I’ll cheer for you like a crazy fangirl.” A bright smile forms on Draco’s lips and he leans in to leave one more soft peck on your lips.

Enzo

You see Enzo approach and smile at him, but you also notice something’s different about him. “Hello, fellas, how’s it going?” Lorenzo places his arms on Fred and George’s shoulders. Fred and George look at each other and then to you. “I take it this is our cue.” Fred laughs and they both disappear out of Enzo’s arms. “Did I say something wrong?” He asks innocently, like his little dominant move wasn’t obvious. You smile at him and softly shake your head. “You came off a little jealous I guess.” You try to explain and Enzo shrugs. “I’m not, you can have friends.” You laugh and close the distance between you two.

“Uhuh but you’ll always be best friend, Enz.” Enzo groans. “Yey me.” His words make you frown and he immediately feels embarrassed about his childlike behavior. “Sorry, you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just- I got my feelings all messed up after last night's kiss.” He had been crushing on you and at first he thought it was just a small thing that would pass, but it didn’t. Terrified to ruin his friendship with you and lose what little he had with you, he buried his feelings. However, after last night all of those suppressed feelings were back in his head and heart, stronger than ever.

You feel your heart sink as he refers to the stupid drunk kiss that happened last night during a ridiculous party game. You had banished that memory to the back of your head, not allowing your feelings of love to ruin your friendship. “You said it was just a silly kiss.” Enzo clenches his jaw. “I know what I said.” You’re surprised by his harsh tone, this was a rare part of Enzo that almost never surfaced. You take a step closer to him and place your hands on his shoulder. “Don’t tell me that some stupid kiss ruined our friendship?” Lorenzo sighs. “No, I did that long before last night.” Your eyebrows knit together as you don’t know what he’s talking about. Enzo shuts his eyes and presses his lips into a line before sighing. “I’ve loved you since forever and… not being with you it’s eating me up (y/n). Please don’t hate me for this, but if I can’t have you, then I can’t be your friend.”

There’s so much sadness in his voice it almost breaks your heart. When you don’t immediately react Enzo moves away, but your hands on his shoulders won’t lead him and you pull him closer. “I know exactly what-” Enzo shakes his head. “No, you don’t.” You laugh. “Yes! Yes, I do, Enzo Berkshire! Because I’ve been in love with you since forever!” It takes a moment for him to process, but when his eyes go wide you see his eyes light up again. The next moment his lips crash against yours for a long and intense kiss, while his arms wrap around you tightly, hugging you like only Enzo can. When he breaks the kiss his head still rests against yours. “Can I ask you for a silly little thing?” He whispers with playful eyes. You nod and Lorenzo lets go of you to take off his jacket. “Wear this, for me. For good luck… and maybe also to make sure those Gryffindor’s know that you’re off the market.”

You turn around and Enzo helps you slip on his jacket. His body fills with pride as he sees you wear his name. “I’ll wear it with pride.” You say and tug him by his shirt to demand another kiss. His hand holds your head, fingers entangled in your hair as his lips passionately move over yours. “I’m winning this game for you.” He whispers, before leaving to join his team.

Mattheo

You were too busy laughing at Mattheo’s expense to notice him walk over. With a foul smile and head held high he looks at the twins. “What are we laughing about?” His voice is calm, but he’s radiating fury. However, Fred can’t resist fuelling him especially with the Gryffindor - Slytherin game starting in half an hour. “You.” Fred says bluntly and Mattheo instantly steps in between you and the twins. Dark eyes focused on Fred. “What’s so funny about me?” Fred’s about to open his mouth when George decides to be the wiser one and slings his arm around his brother. “Time for one quick last round around the stadium, I think.” Coming to George’s aid you place a hand on Mattheo’s biceps, urging him to turn away from Fred and face you.

“They’re absolute tossers.” Mattheo snaps at you when he finally turns away from Fred. You laugh at his frustration. “They’re funny, though.” Your little joke doesn’t sit well with him. Part of him grew worried that maybe you had a thing for one of the twins. “Are you going to cheer them on or me?” He asks with an annoyed tone and piercing eyes, but as soon as he notices you take a step back he softens. He hated himself for getting so jealous and being so possessive of a girl that wasn’t even his. Instinctively his hand reaches for your arm, softly brushing it as a gentle way of asking you to not move away from him. “I- I didn’t mean to- I- I just thought they were flirting or something.” He chuckles, partly confessing he was jealous. He feels himself get flustered as you study him. You had never seen him behave like this, but he quickly regained his confident composure. “Shall I fly you to your spot in the stands?” He offers in an attempt to distract you from his confession.

But you’re not letting him get away this easy. “So what if they were flirting with me, Riddle? Is that a crime? Because last time I checked I was still single so-” Your teasing his cut short when Mattheo snorts, making you raise your eyebrows. He slightly clenches his jaw, cursing himself for not being able to control himself and allowing his arrogance to have the upper hand. “So what… you want those guys to flirt with you?” His eyes focus on yours. “They weren’t flirting and if they were there’s no reason for you to get all snappy about it.” You retort, crossing your arms. In his mind you were already his and he hated that you kept on reminding him that in reality you weren’t his at all. When you notice his jaw clench, you roll your eyes and remind him once more of the one thing he can’t stand hearing. “Matt, you don’t need to worry about me, I’m not your girlfriend.”

Okay, now you've done it. You notice a flicker in his eyes and then he quickly reaches for your arm, moving you behind the stands so you’re alone. “Wha-?” He pushes you against the wooden wall of the stadium and cups your cheek. “You should be my girlfriend.” His lips crash into yours forcefully and he pushes himself against you. It takes a moment, but you can’t resist the intensity of his kiss and your hand sneaks up to his curls as you part your lips and kiss back. When he breaks the kiss he stays close to you and studies you while you press your lips into a line, realizing how quickly you kissed him back. You feel your cheeks heat up as you notice the smug smile appear on Mattheo’s lips. His fingers entangle with your hair as he leans in for another kiss, this time softer but still intense.

When he breaks the kiss, his eyes glimmer with pride and his smirk frustrates you. “I think you should wear this.” He says, taking a step back and taking off his jacket. “You know, since you’re my girlfriend now.” You roll your eyes, but nevertheless turn around so he can wrap it around you. He pulls you with your back against his chest, strong arms wrapped around you, and traces your neck with sweet kisses. “Can I now fly you to the stands? I know your regular spot.”

Having you close against him as he flies around, making sure everyone has seen you with him while wearing his green jacket with his name on, was an unnecessary ego boost. He makes sure you land safely on your feet next to your friends. “Don’t be too insufferable.” You warn him and a smug smile tugs on his lips. “Can’t make any promises.” You go stand on your tiptoes. “If you promise to behave, I’ll kiss you now that everyone’s watching.” You swear you saw little lights in his eyes at your suggestion.

Bonus Regulus Black

Sirius seriously needed to keep his hands to himself, Regulus was fuming as he watched his brother brush a strand of hair out of your face. He had not been desperately trying to impress you for his idiot brother to swoop in and charm you with one decent gesture. “Not that you have any value to the Gryffindor team, but shouldn’t you get ready for the game.” Regulus walks over to stand by your side with his broom still in hand, staring his brother down with disdain.

Sirius grins at his brother’s obvious jealousy. “Be careful brother, your true colors are showing.” Regulus clenches his jaw and averts his eyes feeling a little caught, but thankfully his grinning fool of a brother leaves. When he looks over at you, you’re already smiling at him. “That was a bit harsh of you. Nervous for the game?” You ask and he’s glad you offer him an excuse for his behavior. “Yes, definitely the game. Though, I’m confident we’re gonna put Gryffindor to shame.” A smug smirk tugs on his lips and you laugh at his confidence, but he immediately gets a little serious. “You know, my brother’s not a bad guy, but he can be a bit… uhm- invasive at times. So if he’s ever too much, let me know.” You smile and nod softly, not going to argue with a worried Regulus. “Promise?” Regulus watches you carefully, waiting for you to make the promise. You take a step closer to him and lock your eyes with his. “Promise.”

Just as he seems to be reassured enough to turn around and go back to his team, he notices a few guys glance over at you. He sighs and turns back around to you with a face filled with annoyance. Frustrated, he licks his lips as his eyes dart around. “Why are you so tense?” You ask genuinely worried and you reach for his arms, gently squeezing them to calm him. “You really are too precious to leave unchaperoned.” He breathes and you laugh at his choice of words. He sighs, but then a genius idea pops up in his head. “Here, wear this.” He sets his broom aside for a moment and lets his slytherin training jacket slide off his shoulders. When he hands it to you look at it with confused eyes. “It’s rather chilly today.” Regulus explains, but feels himself heat up. Maybe his attempt to claim you and protect you from others was a bit too obvious. You tilt your head and stare at his blushing cheeks, but you refuse to take his jacket since you’re a bit annoyed with his inability to come clean about his feelings.

He notices that you’re being a bit difficult about it and sighs, getting a little flustered. “Just do me a favor and wear it.” You shake your head in amusement. “Fine, if you'll do me a favor as well.” You reach for the jacket and he nods, feeling a bit more confident now that you’re complying. You slip the jacket on and enjoy the warmth of it and Regulus’ scent, before taking a step closer to him so there’s no space left between you two. “Kiss me.” You demand and his eyes widen, not believing that that’s the favor you’re asking for. Clearly you had seen through his subtle flirting and obvious jealousy of the past months. No denying it now, time to step up. He leans in, simultaneously wrapping an arm around, and brushes your lips before kissing you tenderly. You rest your hands on his shoulders and allow him to pull you against him as he intensifies the kiss. Slowly you break the kiss, but your eyes still linger on his as you enjoy being in his arms. “Be careful up there.” You whisper and it’s then that Regulus realizes exactly how perfect of a girlfriend you’re going to be. He nods and moves away from you, unable to hide smile. He takes his broom and heads back towards his grinning teammates.

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oxydiane · 1 year

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we talk a lot about how sasuke and naruto are so crazy about each other but there’s never enough attention on how the rest of the naruto cast Also thinks they are two fucking lunatics. like we are not alone on this. you have jiraiya telling naruto he needs to not go and chase a mf who tried to snatch his heart out his ribcage and naruto is like no i’d rather be a fucking moron for the rest of my life honestly. you have naruto leaving a mission and saying sory i cannot stay i need to go home and wait for sasuke and the fucking platypus looks at him ???? like he even had me confused where are you goin g to wait? ? why are you saying that like sasuke is coming back the fuck did i miss??? you have the kage summit arc which is just a whole bucket of ice being dropped onto you because you come in and immediately get slapped in the face by naruto letting himself be beat up because he won’t tell them where sasuke is??? like he has any fucking idea where sasuke is. and sai tries to make him come to his senses like naruto??? naruto WHAT ARE U DOING. it’s so bad they need an intervention. right after that naruto faces the raikage and gets on his knees saying i know my almost boyfriend almost killed your brother but i promise it wasn’t on purpose he was just being silly please don’t put a bounty on his head a war will literally ensue. and like. there’s LAYERS to this. 1. even RAIKAGE is like BOY what are you doing. STAND UP. 2. at this point you can count the people who like sasuke on the fingers of one hand like WHO is gonna start a war over him… naruto out there moving a war against a whole country by himself over his bf ok you go girl i guess. after this it gets even worse like gaara has to go up to him and be like SASUKE DOWSNT CARE ABOUT YOU. HE DOES NOT WANT YOU. and naruto just slaps his hand away in front of his family like rude?????? ignoring anything it is hilariouuusssss and then sai is like sorry. sakura lied to you they are actually off to kill sasuke and naruto gets a panic attack so severe he passes out. like i am not joking it was so bad his friends tried to kill sasuke behind his back. and then naruto escapes bedriddenment (is that a word?) after passing out from his panic attack to run and make sure NOBODY kills sasuke. like he’s on a RUSH leaping those trees he’s a boy on a mission. then after he gets there he’s like kakashi DO NOT TOUCH HIM. they launch themselves at each other bla bla gay monologues did you see what was in my heart and then. and then naruto is like. wait sasuke. and sasuke waits like sorry that’s such a little thing but it’s so funny to me like sasuke was just acting a lil murderous crazy manic wtv but naruto told him to wait and he waits. ok good boyfriend. anyways moving on naruto is like do you get it sasuke. if we fight again we will BOTH DIE! (everybody gets a ?????? bubble) i am the only one who can shoulder all that hatred. i will CARRY THE BURDEN OF YOUR HATRED AND WE WILL DIE TOGETHER! and . absolutely Everybody in that room just goes ???????????? what the FUCK is he TALKING ABKHT. everybody except sasuke. sasuke smirks and he’s like sure. they just talked about dying together and meeting each other in a different life where they’ll be free of their burdens and they’re just Fine and all ok smiling at each other and everyone is so fucking confused. like the entire supporting cast is with us side eyeing sasuke and naruto and thinking what in the everloving FUCK is WRONG WITH YOU????????

#it’s 4 am again #and i am thinking about sasunaru again #soo talks #sasunaru #narusasu #sns #naruto #naruto shippuden #naruto shitpost #rant #naruto uzumaki #sasuke uchiha #pro sns

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anadiasmount · 2 months

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we’re pretending? - jude bellingham x reader.

quick sum: no date to an upcoming wedding, you use your best friend as last resort. what happens when your best friend isn’t playing pretend anymore and you’re left conflicted with these unusual feelings…

wc: 4.6 k | masterlist | jude’s masterlist

psa 🗣️: i used my og ‘glory box’ fic to get some inspo while writing this fic ngl!! 😣 this was so fun to write not only by the trope but the DRAMAAAA!! like always, hope you enjoy! 🤍

“yes mom, i know. i picked my dress up yesterday, and my flight is booked as well,” you sighed and rolled your eyes knowing she wouldn’t be able to see you through the phone. she knew how important this wedding was but she kept putting the pressure on you. it was the last thing you needed especially after you told her you’d bring someone along.

that someone was now you’re ex-boyfriend. you had less than 48 hours to come up with an excuse or show up alone.

"are you still bringing your plus one?" she asked, the line going silent for a few seconds before she spoke up again. "y/n? are you there?" you should've just lied or said the truth, all you could think of was how happy and super excited she was when you told her you'd met someone and began dating.

"yes mom... we both will be there," you closed your eyes, disappointment in yourself filling the void in your head. you could hear her squeal in the background, telling a voice there with her about the good news. you chewed on your lip anxiously, wanting to cut the call or else you'd break down.

"listen mom, i have t-to go okay? ill call you tomorrow. try not to stress so much," you smiled weakly hearing an "i love you", ending the call after gifting your goodbye. there was no avoiding the mistake you had committed. you wanted to slap some common sense into yourself, because where the hell were you about to find someone?

you clearly remembered the day telling your mom you'd met someone at uni. she was over the moon and wanted to tell everyone but you dismissed the idea, not wanting to rush since you had recently met. you would call her and tell her about him, and she listened so attentively, just like in the movies.

you couldn't bring yourself to tell her when you and max had broken up. your whole life has always been surrounded by being told you needed to be more like your older sister, the pressure of being a golden child laid on you. for once you had something, but that had to get ruined as well.

the scolding, the perfect grades, friends, hell even family. you had to be so careful and live up to their expectations. you loved them, you did, but at times you just felt like moving away was the best idea. and you did just that, the first to move out to a new country, breaking records at uni, and even finding a suitable job.

your boss loved you, and coworkers admired you for the passion and dedication you carried. so why did it have to go all wrong with max? you had an image of him in your head that he was madly in love with you, though you'd later be proven wrong when you found out he was sleeping with his boss. finding them in the act on your 6th month anniversary.

you still can recall the feeling of being unable to breathe, their screams and his pleading going quiet as you could just stare into the room, not once being able to see his eyes. disgust, and rage, but mostly sadness, a heavy heart, and the lump in your throat. he hurt you terribly and you would forever resent that.

after the call, you sat quietly on the couch, hands in your hair as you thought about everything. looking around seeing your bags packed, the blue dress hanging by your room, pictures everywhere. you hated to admit but you were living in a hell, life messy and a disaster. your buzz ringed, seeing through the tiny camera your best friend jude in the frame.

you allowed him in, walking over to the large mirror and wiping away the dry tears, making yourself look more presentable. you looked worn out, eyes droopy and low, lips slightly chapped, and to make matters worse a zit on your chin. you exhaled a breath, keys jiggling as jude came in.

he set his training bag down, took his shoes off, and walked to you, giving you a small hug. "you look terrible," you gave him a warning look, "but lucky you, i brought us food," he spoke cheerfully, the mood inside you going from gloomy to content. "it's raining like crazy, i almost fell coming up. also i brought some packages and your mail," jude continued.

"thank you, i haven't had the time to go down and pick them up! i've been so busy packing and planning last-minute stuff," you groaned, going to the kitchen and washing your hands. "watch, in the next few minutes i'm going to get a call," you theorized. jude pulled out the food and served it into your plates as you grabbed a water for him and a soda for yourself.

"how was training?"

jude shrugged unimpressed, "same old. didn't really have to go in, but they needed me for a small campaign shoot, so i had no choice. also cama and tchou send their hello's."

you and jude spoke amongst yourself. just about each other's days and catching up from the last time you guys were together. you teased him about losing a bet with his little brother, jude whining about how he cheated. new music that came out, and a pop up store that opened lower in downtown.

"so what's got your head in a twist?" jude sipped on his last few ounces of water, leaning his head on his propped-up arm and hand. you awkwardly scratch the back of your neck, pick up the dirty dishes, and walk to the sink. "okay don't make fun of me-"

"you're basically asking me too... also no promises since you just made fun of me for losing against jobe," jude chuckled.

"jude."

"oh it's serious then... what did you do?" he saw the serious look on your face, a small worry constructing in his chest because he rarely saw you like this. you close your eyes, feeling the anxiety build in you once again, "i told my mom i was still bringing max..."

jude scoffed in denial, or trying to cope with the confusion, "y/n, you what?"

"i know! i know! i should've just confessed and coughed up the truth but i- i couldn't! she was so excited jude! i feel terrible for lying believe me i do, but after telling her about him and filling her with hope to break her heart, i just c-c-couldn't," you ramble, dishes clattering as you freaked out.

in your head it didn't seem as bad, but fully saying it out loud to jude, seemed even worse. jude grimaced, knowing you had messed up bad especially since the wedding was right around the corner. "i'm just embarrassed... i know they will start something and just talk down on me if i showed up alone."

jude knew how heavy-handed your family could be, often wanting to resent them because he cared for you so much. he saw how physically and mentally they could rain you even with the smallest sentence. they seemed so worried with their lives instead of the ones they should most value and care for.

jude gave you a concerned face, "what?" chuckling nervously when you gasped out, almost being able to see the lit-up light bulb on top of your head. "jude, I'm a genius!"

"well i beg to differ-"

"shut up," you pat your finger against your chin, a mischievous smile on your lip taunting jude's concern even more. "i don't know why i didn't think of this sooner! why don't you pretend to be my boyfriend? just for the wedding that's it!"

jude shook his head, hands coming up to back out of the idea. it was one thing you lying, but now asking you to play pretend was something totally different. "that's not a good idea y/n..." jude clenched his teeth forcing a smile. "oh cmon why not?"

"well, first of all, that's an even bigger lie to your mom. second, pretending would seem impossible. third, i don't want the first time meeting your parents to be a lie because of what happened," jude defended and stated his case.

"it's a huge favor but you'd save my life jude! one weekend and that's it! you have plenty of suits, you're also off this weekend, and they would never suspect a thing! please jude! i wouldn't be asking if i wasn't so desperate," you begged, seeing the hesitation in his eyes.

"it seems like a bad idea... you don't know what you're asking for y/n... were pretending to be a couple when were not! we have to make it believable even under the pressure of the wedding. a theatrical play, a stunt!" jude exclaimed standing up from his chair.

"jude please, please, please! it might feel weird but it's for the night only! after that, we go back to the good old y/n and jude," you followed him as he paced in your living room thinking of his answer. would it be back to normal even if he continued to feel the same for you? the unknown loving feeling he had for you?

the pretending would be hard when all he could hardly think of was you. how he felt recently and how nervous he got around you. he would do anything for you in a heartbeat, but this would break jude further than now. he couldn't fake pretend holding your hand, or kissing your cheek when he meant and wanted to do that with you currently.

as bad as the idea was, here he was hugging you as you cheerfully yelped when he agreed. time moved slowly for him, the sensation of regret and curiosity as what was yet to come from both of you. all he cared for was to make sure you were happy, and if faking being your boyfriend would help you, he was willing to do it, no matter the consequences.

as jude was fixing his hair, you finished setting your makeup with some powder and setting spray. nerves bubbling in you after the first test you encountered last night after your arrival. you let out a laugh at the tiny bed you had to share with jude. seeing his uneasy face even after he offered to sleep on the couch.

"we're running on schedule," you spoke, finishing clasping your jewelry around your hands and rings. jude came behind you, his shirt unbuttoned and abs in full view, as he finished zipping his pants. best friend or not, there was no denying how incredibly sexy jude was. the name should speak for itself, but with the looks and personality he had, it was too good to be true.

"need some help?" he asked seeing you nod slowly and looking down at your feet. he took the necklace, your skin on fire as his fingertips grazed your skin accidentally, almost jumping on the spot, goosebumps grazing your body. he clasped the necklace, grabbing the pendent and fixing it so it laid in the middle. "perfect," he cockliy smirked.

"thank you."

"are you almost ready?" he looked at you as he buttoned up his shirt, you almost stuttered but regained consciousness, "yes, just need to put my dress and shoes on," you turned back quickly furrowing your brows, wanting to slap yourself for allowing yourself to get carried away, or maybe at the uneasy desire in you when seeing jude.

you went to the bathroom, grabbing the lacy undergarments and the blue dress. the color was to die for, the perfect length even with your heels on, the opened back with the front just showing the perfect amount of cleavage, and the whole dress just accentuating your body even more.

you felt the need to throw some water in your face though you couldn't or else it would ruin your makeup. you settled with fanning yourself with your hand, the tense in your chest getting to you as it was becoming real now. you were just pretending with jude. nothing more right?

you looked in the huge light-up mirror, and suddenly the confidence you had dripped away as you thought of jude in the next room over. why did all of a sudden everything feel like it wasn't before? as in, things changed drastically since the night at your apartment? you've never felt this clumsy or as edgy around him.

when you woke up this morning, with jude on top of you laying peacefully, you couldn't help but feel overjoyed, as if it was a natural state and you've done it before. in your own world where the only thing that mattered was him and you. since then you were slightly freaked out, butterflies in your chest when he left or walk into the room.

jude double taked a look as you walked into the room again. the tiny room that felt like a joke to him after walking in hand to hand last night. his eyes roamed you, lips slightly separated as he admired your beauty, heart hammering in his chest. he watched as you grabbed your cheeks, immediately offering to help.

he leaned down, gently grabbing your foot and placing the white jeweled heel on you. your hands were clamped around the small bench cushions, jude looking up then and there to make sure they felt comfortable. once again, his touch felt like fire, playing with your head even more.

when he finished clasping the heel, he extended his hand helping you up. "you look absolutely gorgeous y/n... this dress was made for you," jude croaked, hearing you laugh shakily. "thank you jude. likewise," jude smiled at your reaction, "i mean as in you look super handsome with the suit, not a dress!" you explained.

"i think i got what you meant..." he joked, his eyes roaming uo and down again at you. "good. good. shall we head out?" you swallowed heavily, grabbing your purse, phone, and other stuff you needed for the night. you were in a rush, wanting to get some fresh air or you would explode in the room with jude inside. "lead the way y/n."

jude helped you in an out of the cab, his hand on your bare back as he guided you to the double doors leading into the reception. "how are you feeling? any nerves?" you spoke quietly to him, looking around as people were taking their seats or had their own conversations.

"some but not too many. like you said, it's just for today," he whispered along your ear, gently giving your shoulder a kiss as his hands went to your hips and walked you forward. your mom and aunt gasped, grabbing their dresses and walking towards you, almost sprinting. "here goes nothing," you say.

"oh my god! so you are real!" your mom yelped, making you give her a glare and eyes pleading not to make a scene. "i was starting to think my sweet y/n was lying to me about this boyfriend she had," you almost choked on your saliva, clearing your throat at her words. "i am y/n's mom, what is your name?"

"i'm jude. it's a pleasure to finally meet you ma'am," jude shook her hand and leaned down to kiss her cheeks in a greeting manner, the same with your aunt. jude's hand interlocked with yours, the happiness in your mother's eyes never leaving, almost tearing up at the sight of you with your "boyfriend."

"i can't believe it! it's a miracle, my daughter finally has her first boyfriend," she clapped her hands making you wretched at her choice of wording. you did everything to have her at least praise you once in life, and all it took was to have a boyfriend? you brushed away the glum feeling, jude kissing your hand, distracting you from the small burn in your eyes.

"oh my! look at them! they make such a beautiful pair," your aunt gleamed. "we do, don't we?" jude teased them, "took her a while to say yes to me, but i'm very fortunate to be here," jude resumed. "we're very pleased to have you here, anything you need don't hesitate to ask."

after saying hello to other family friends and cousins, you sat for the ceremony. jude wiped a small tear away after your old school friend finished her vows, slapping his shoulder when he made a small joke about your mascara running. "its not funny! the vows were so beautiful," you said.

"it's like we are watching me before you again," he said making you gasp. "jude what are talking about? you literally cried with me?" you recalled laughing, jude looking around scared if someone was hearing you. "please don't remind me... in my defense, i didn't see that ending at all."

after the ceremony, you and jude greeted other families, and most importantly congratulated the bride and groom. their faces ushered with happiness, overall content with how their day was turning out. you had to excuse yourself from jude at one point, your mom dragging you away for your help. jude was left behind with your dad.

"since she was little, she always hated getting thrown or dragged around," your father spoke, taking a sip of his whiskey. "seems like nothing had changed?" jude asked carefully with a playful smile. "oh not even close! it's my wife doing," he winked.

"jude right?"

"yes sir," jude nodded, presenting the dad talk coming up. "I'm gonna save the unnecessary talk and get straight to the point. it's so weird to see my baby girl all grown up, with the lusting and loving eyes she gives you. you love her very much and i can see that which is why i'm not worried about you hurting or losing her trust."

hell if jude didn't feel guilty before, he did now. he gripped the glass harder, nodding to your dad who looked upset. "she may have told you some stuff about us, but at the end of the day, she's my daughter and i love her the way she is... please just take good care of her for me... she been through enough as it is..."

"i only have good intentions and i promise you i won't ever break her heart," jude promised to your dad, but also himself. he would never be able to forgive himself if he ever did break your heart or make you lose the trust you had. max did it once and jude would never do it. even if it meant keeping away these long feelings for you.

when you returned you saw them laughing and chatting away, your heart full of emotions at them getting along. jude was so mature for his age, and it didn't come to a surprise when he got along with your dad so fast. his hand would naturally lay on your back or on your hip.

the next few hours were filled with more people dancing or chatting away. jude insisting you sat on his lap for a picture when the photographer passed, smiling wide, looking like a happy couple. it seemed so natural to you, being this close and intimate you were getting scared at how fast everything was being thrown at you.

"i had to see it for myself! y/n bagging a footballer? never saw that coming," your cousin approached you giving you a high as he dabbed up jude. "jude meet my cousin adrian, he's a huge fan of you, and just successfully signed with a small club," you introduced them to each other, with a huge grin on your face.

jude’s hand snuck around your waist, his thumb drawing shapes as his full attention was with your cousin who spoke about sports. you listened then and there, but your feet began to ache, switching your weight back and forth uncomfortably.

jude was quick to notice, leaving down to your level and asking if you were okay. “i’m fine i promise, these shoes are killing me that’s all,” you reassured with a smile, jude nodding before cutting the conversation after a few minutes. “i’m going to get her a chair and drinks for us,” you froze when he kissed your temple, “i’ll see you around later,” jude said his goodbyes dragging you along slowly.

like before, your chest beat faster, if he stared, smiled, even touched or got near you, you’d get nervous immediately. the familiar string of falling for someone filling the empty space left behind inside you. he was super good at pretending and it didn’t feel like that anymore.

it felt real. was he just pretending? or was he actually taking this fake relationship seriously and real?

all you could do was stare at his face, mostly his gorgeous brown eyes as he helped you get seated and served you some water, making sure you were fully okay. he sat next to you, his hand interlocking with his, and placing it on his lap as he paid attention to his surroundings. you become quiet, so into your head and questioning his every move now.

“jude?” you spoke softly, a confused smile on your face as he immediately turned to you with a soften gaze. you inhaled a breath, unable to look away from him, his ínstese state causing you to feel intimidated. “is everything okay?” he asked, leaning slightly over to you, pushing a small string of hair back. “is it supposed to feel like this?”

“what is?” jude shook his head not understanding.

“us? why am i getting the idea we’re no longer pretending…”

jude tore his gaze from yours, the panic growing more intense when he wouldn't reply back. "jude please... don't push me away. are we just pretending or has something changed?" you persisted, your hand gliding against his back to get his attention. jude debated, afraid of losing you right here and now, or having the possibility to maybe hear you feel the same way.

"come with me," jude demanded, helping your and dragging you to the dance floor where no one could really see you besides the other happy couples. his hands circled your waist, as yours went to his shoulders, unable to look away from him. "tell me i'm not the only one who feels it..."

"tell me what you feel y/n... what your head is begging to scream out..."

"i can't, i don't know jude. i'm afraid yet so confused? since we got here yesterday things feel different between us. it happened again when we had breakfast, when you put my necklace on, my heels! all of this is giving me mixed signals jude... i haven't felt this in so long.." you confess, a shaky breath escaping your lips when he pulls you closer and kisses your head.

"like now. i can't if you just did that out of pretending or because it came naturally to you. i've never had to worry about what you think till recently... it feels strange... yet ican't help but get hope that it means real," you rest your forehead on his shoulder blinking away the tears that slowly begin to let out.

jude could see how this was affecting you, holding your lower body with one hand and the other smoothing down your spine, feeling how you immediately let loose and relaxed by his praise and touch. jude could also feel the heavy weight beginning to feel heavier if he kept his true hidden feelings away. it was a sign, and there was no going back.

jude's hand cradled your chin, forcing you to look up at his, his brown eyes gazing over your teary face. he was truly amazed and so in love with you it made his head feel cloudy, almost dizzy, at how perfect and pure you were. his tummy fluttering at his gorgeous girl who was confused at how she felt... but in this moment jude knew you were in deep as well.

"tell me something, when you see me, does it make your heart race, like i'm the only person standing there?" you nod, "does your head tell you one thing but your gut tells you another when you see me?" you nod again, this time blowing the air out of jude's lungs. "my head tells me i shouldn't, but my gut tells me i waited so long that maybe it's now to late for us..."

"why would it be too late y/n...?" you shrug your shoulders. "because i don't you feel the same way i'm feeling." jude smiled weakly, his thumb brushing along your jaw, hearing your hum in delight, "how can you know when you haven't asked me?"

your eyes search his for any sign but you don't find any, "what are you feel in this moment jude?"

"that i'm the luckiest man to be here with you tonight," he says proudly, "that i don't think we've wasted any time, rather i feel we're barely getting started on this new branch of our lives... i can't pretend when i'm with you... because pretending to hide how i feel has been so hard, when all i want is you. all of you y/n..."

"i had to see you go through that idiot max, how he hurt you? when you were hurt i was even more devastated because i couldn't protect you. i'd do anything to make you happy or laugh because it's what i want to do. i want to be the only one who gets to do that. i promised your dad but myself also, ask me what the promise is..." jude insisted.

"what's your promise jude?"

"that i'd never break your heart or give you a reason to doubt me. that from this day forward, i completely will give you my all to care and relish our love once and for all. i'm tired of waiting and holding back of what should've existed and started when i first met you."

"jude-"

"i want to give you my all, to be devoted and in love with you forever. you have no idea what you make me feel, think! i wake up longing for you, at work, at my own home. you're the only girl i want and need in my life y/n," jude confessed, the weight finally lifted of his shoulders, now being able to feel like a free man.

you closed your eyes, breathing out a happy chuckle in relief. you sniffled, "you've ruined me jude, completely ruined me with your words, your confession! look at me, i'm worse than when we finished watching the vow!" you joked, hand nestling on the nape of his next, stroking his soft skin.

"you love me jude?"

"more than what you think."

"i need you to know i'm giving you my all as well. I've always sensed how different what we had was, and come to find out, i was just scared and felt the need to push away because you didn't feel the same way. what i feel for you never happened with who shall not be named..." jude chuckles, closing his eyes and swallowing a heavy gulp like you.

"i'm so hopelessly in love with you jude bellingham... so in love, i want to grow old with you, make every promise we said out loud come true. i knew i loved you as soon as we laid eyes, and you stumbled over your words," jude squinted his eyes, shaking his head embarrassed. "kiss me jude."

jude kissed you exactly how he dreamed. your lips soft and sweet as he imagined, even better. cradling your chin to tilt and pulling the kiss deeper. it felt so right, so amazing, so passionate. he was lost, his tongue entering your parted lips when you let out a small gasp and whimper. there was no more pretending, this was more real than ever.

"could get lost in how you taste. how you feel. i love you so much angel."

#jude bellingham #judey thoughts 5️⃣#jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham fic #football fanfic #footballer #football x reader #football imagine #football one shot

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gggukniverse · 27 days

Text

guys my age | myg (m)

title: guys my age

pairing: yoongi x f!reader

genre: m , smut , mom's boyfriend au , age gap

summary: you and your mom have been living in her new boyfriend's house for a couple of weeks. it's a little hard adapting to living there but on a weekend your mom is out of town and you've invited a guy to the house for a quick and disappointing hookup, yoongi lets you know he's more than willing to help you out.

warnings: [just for the teaser] brief sexual encounter with another guy, bad sex, age gap, kind of dubious consent, yoongi kiiiiiiind of manipulates reader

wordcount: 1.5k (just the teaser)

drop date: not really sure but it will probably drop next month

note: hey :) this is my next fic !!! i'm super excited for this one. i'm still working on basic needs part 3 though, just be patient

you still get lost in this house, you realize you do when you stop by the middle of one of the hallways in complete confusion because you don’t even know where the office is.

it’s normal to need time to adapt to a new place, you already knew that when you moved with your mom into her new boyfriend, but two weeks have passed since you moved to this house and you’ve lost even the way back to your room now.

it’s only when you hear the noise of a keyboard that you turn to the end of the hallway to the right and see light coming from a room with the door just a little open. that’s the office.

you walk down the hallway hesitantly and knock two times on the door, only opening it all the way when you hear that deep voice saying ‘come in’.

“hi,” you say quietly as you stand by the door. yoongi is working but he takes a break from all of the papers on his desk and his computer to look up at you and take his glasses off. “i- i’m sorry, am i bothering?”

“no, don’t worry,” he seems shakes his head and smiles sweetly at you. “is everything okay?”

“yeah, everything is okay... i just wanted to ask you something.” you bite your lower lip, already sensing the negative response coming.

“sure, what is it?” yoongi leans back on his chair and crosses his arms.

“my mom never lets me bring anyone home, so now that she’s not here for the weekend... i was wondering if you would let me bring someone in, since this is your house.” you let it out as fast as you can, like ripping off a bandage.

“you wanna bring someone over,” yoongi nods slowly to himself as if he’s processing what you just told him so you hum in affirmation. “a friend?” he tilts his head to the side a little, as if he’s testing you.

“uh, well...” you feel your cheeks burn and he seems to get it right away.

“your mom warned me as soon as she left that you would try to sneak someone in.” he says and that’s when you know you’re done.

“okay.” you say quietly, your shoulders dropping in disappointment.

but yoongi speaks again, “he can come over.”

you look up again with wide eyes and see that he has a smile on his face. “really?” you ask in disbelief. you really expected him to say no.

“sure, but don’t cause any trouble.” he warns and you nod immediately.

“thank you, yoongi oppa.” you bow before turning around again and walking out of the office.

it turns out not being that good of an idea to bring the boy you’ve been talking to for a few days over to this house.

“fuck yeah...” the boy hovering over you groans as he keeps fucking you at a way too rough pace for your liking, not hurting you but straight up not making you feel good. “does that feel good baby?” he mutters against your ear and you almost want to laugh but you just fake a moan before saying, “yeah.”

he obviously comes on your stomach and just starts getting dressed again, like sex is over as soon as he comes. he doesn’t even stay, just leaves you there alone feeling completely dirty and empty. and it’s not the first time you have a sex experience as bad as this one, in fact, all of your sexual encounters with guys always end like this.

you only get up from the bed when you decide that you have to at least clean his now drying cum from your stomach. you clean it with some wipes but you still feel dirty, so after putting on an old big shirt and some sweatshorts you walk out of your room and make your way to the closest bathroom with the intention of taking a quick shower.

but just as you turn to the next hallway you stomp against someone’s chest.

“woah, careful.” yoongi’s voice makes you step back and look up at him.

“sorry...” you mumble and quickly look down again in embarrassment because you probably still look a little fucked out.

“did your friend leave already?” yoongi asks, not showing any interest in wanting to walk away so you sigh and look up again, nodding in response. “are you okay?”

your heart starts racing with how he’s looking at you, like he’s analyzing every detail on your expression.

“yeah, yeah. i’m okay.” you nod anxiously and almost flinch when he reaches out to you with his hands, putting the back of it against your forehead.

“do you have a fever?” yoongi asks with a little frown, like he’s actually worried, but you catch the way his lips curl into a little smirk as soon as you’re about to panic.

he’s teasing you. of course he knew what you’ve been doing.

“please don’t tell my mom.” you say as he drops his hand from your forehead. he smiles.

“brat can’t go a day without having a cock inside,” he chuckles and your mouth opens for you to say something but you’re left completely speehless because never in a million years you would’ve expected him to speak like that to you. “don’t think i don’t notice when you sneak boys inside my house. you were nice for asking this time, though. didn’t expect you to.”

“i...” words don’t even leave your mouth, so shocked that he knows everything.

“was it worth it at least?” he lifts one of his eyebrows and tilts his head in a way that has your body feeling hot for some reason. “was he good to you?” he asks again.

“no.” you speak so quietly it’s barely a whisper.

“did you cum?”

“no,” you shake your head, not being able to tear your eyes away from him as if you’re under a spell. “i... never do. they always finish and leave.” you mutter with so much embarrasment that you wanna die, but the words come out much more easily than you would’ve expected.

“mh... i know.” the tone in his voice is so low.

you don’t even notice he’s walking closer to you until you can almost feel his breath hitting your face. after taking two steps back to get away from him, you hit the wall. he takes the last couple of steps to you until he has you cornered between the wall and his body.

“now tell me why i shouldn’t tell your mom, huh?” yoongi hums.

you look down, too embarrassed to look into his eyes now. “please, don’t tell her.” you mutter and a gasp escapes your throat when you feel a finger under your chin, lifting your head up to look at him again.

“say please one more time.” his entire aura is so intimidating that you feel your whole body shaking. he’s never been so close to you.

“please...” you look up at him with big eyes, those use to work.

yoongi exhales through his nose and your proximity to him lets you notice the way his jaw clenches.

“i won’t tell her,” he says and you sigh in relief, throwing your head back against the wall. “i’ll keep your secret if you keep ours.” you flinch when you feel fingertips running up your bare thigh.

“ours?”

he doesn’t reply but you don’t have a chance to ask him again because his lips are on yours.

a moan escapes your mouth and he follows with a grunt as one of his arms wraps around your waist, pulling you flat against his body. his other hand, the one he was touching your thigh with, goes up to your ass and squeezes it. you whine against his lips because his hand feels so big, so good.

your mind is so dizzy and your legs are starting to shake because it is a good fucking kiss and the way he’s holding you makes you feel amazing, but something inside your brain makes you snap back to reality. you’re kissing your mom’s boyfriend, a man who’s 22 years older than you.

you put your hands on his chest and push him back a little. “oppa...” you pant, trying to catch your breath, and look down to his chest to avoid his gaze.

“mh?” he brings the hand on your ass to your lower back, keeping you close to him.

“why did you do that?” you say and he only chuckles, so low.

“why did i do what?”

“kiss me... and- and touch me.” you explain with a shaky voice.

“mh?” yoongi hums again and leans down, stealing another kiss from your lips that makes you forget what you were talking about. “touch you?” he asks, so close to your lips.

he smiles when you try to chase his lips. “touch me.” you repeat, not even conscious of what you’re saying.

“want me to touch you?” yoongi’s hands go to your waist, holding you by your sides.

something inside you is yelling at you, begging you to go back to your room. but you nod at yoongi’s question, earning a smile from him that feels like a reward.

“come with me, sweetheart.” he’s suddenly taking a step back and offering you his hand to hold, waiting for you to make a decision.

you take it.

to be continued :)

#yoongi x reader #yoongi imagine #yoongi fanfic #yoongi smut #yoongi fic #bangtan fanfic #bangtan fic #bts fic #bts x reader #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts imagines #bangtan reactions #bangtan x reader

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sturniozo · 5 months

Note

Ok ask for ask and you shall receive lol if your not ok doing this it's totally fine

Anyways I was thinking about like a Chris x reader where the reader is secretly dating Chris and there on the podcast for an episode (and since Chris sits on the barstool you can see his lap)they fans notice the readers legs like draped over his lap and he's kinda massaging the calf fans are like broo did u see the new pod I think Chris and reader might be together.

Thxs I love your stuff and have a lovely day

Sorry if it's kinda long

This is so cute sorry I took so long on it I had to form out the idea first lol if that makes sense

masterlist

Do You Think They Know?

/Chris Sturniolo x Reader\

It was Monday and Nick had just posted the podcast episode for the week, and I was one of the featured guests on the podcast.

I sat next to Chris, who’s my boyfriend but we decided to keep it a secret from fans. I was scared I’d get hate for it, since just being around them even as a friend has gotten me hate. I didn’t want to know what would happen if Chris and I came out with our relationship.

I sit next to Chris on the couch, my head on his shoulder and my legs over his as we watch TV in the living room. It had only been a few hours since the podcast was posted, and my stomach was in knots just thinking about the comments that would surface soon.

Chris rubs his fingers over my knuckles and I look up at him. He smiles at me and kisses my forehead. “Don’t worry.” He mumbles into my hair. He must have read my mind or notice how nervous I was.

“I’m not worried.” I lie and shift around in my spot. Chris wraps his arms around me to keep me still.

“Don’t lie to me, ma. You’re nervous. Don’t be, our fans love you.”

“No they don’t, they love you and hate me just for being around you.”

“They aren’t real fans then.” He says and gives me a kiss on the top of my head.

We sit in silence for a bit as we watch the movie on the tv. Chris checks his phone seeing notifications blow up, people tagging him in edits on TikTok, and tweets and instagram posts. He smiles to himself as he opens TikTok. “Let’s see these cute edits they made huh, mas?” Chris says.

I lean over to see his phone screen. He goes to the tag titled with his name to see the newest edits. The very first one made both of us freeze in our place.

There we were. On the podcast, a view of Chris that showed his lap, and my legs over his while he rubs my legs softly. The caption read “Y/N AND CHRIS DATING CONFIRMED???”

My face burns with blush and I stare up at Chris. “I think they know…” he says in a soft tone.

“Oh god…”

“It’s okay princess, I was sick of hiding it anyways.”

Chris continues going through the tag, seeing many new edits of him and me in the past videos I’ve been in.

“I told you they love you.” He mumbles into my hair and kisses the top of my head again.

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #chris x reader #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut

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jasmines-library · 2 months

Note

Remus Lupin whose sense of smell heightens around the full moon. You come to him and you’re stinking of Sirius. Obviously, he’s really jealous, especially around this time, and he’s clutching you to his side, rubbing his scent all over you, basically claiming his territory.

Lunar Possession

(Art not mine, found on Pinterest. Cred to original owner)

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

Note: When I say I dropped EVERYTHING the second this came into my inbox...

Warnings: Pre-full moon remus angst, possessive-ish (?) remus

Word Count: 1.7k

⛧ MARAUDERS MASTERLIST⛧

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

Remus Lupin was not in a good mood. He was antsy. With the full moon so close, everything put him on edge: His ears seemed to twitch at the smallest shift in the floorboards and his nose seemed to smell every person that passed his dormitory door on their way to and from the common room. It made his stomach churn, like a boat being tossed about on the sea. It made his head pound in a steady rhythm that made it hard to focus on anything else beside the tedious beat. It was followed by a tightness too; pressing harshly against his temples.

Remus thought he should be used to it by now. He had been dealing with the effects of the full moon for practically as long as he could remember, but he would never truly get used to it. Having you and Sirius by his side always helped though. Remus wouldn’t ever dare admit it out loud, he spent far too much time trying to convince the two of you that he was dangerous and not to be trusted, but you and Sirius calmed his nerves. You made the transformation just that bit more bearable.

He would forever remember the day that you revealed your animagus form to him. Remus could hardly find the words to express how he felt. Never before in his life had he had someone care for him the way that you and Sirius did. James too. He was scared at first, Remus didn’t know how his friends were going to react when he told them about his lycanthropy. Almost certainly he had expected you to run and to never speak to him again. But that night you did the opposite and held him close. And Remus had never felt more loved and accepted. Now, of course he was cautious at first. Angry. Scared. But slowly the three of you had talked him into realising it was a good idea: He was coming home after each transformation with fewer injuries and seemed to be managing much easier with your help. Of course, seeing the scratches and cuts appear on his friends bodies each night made him grimace and try to convince you to stop. He was supposed to protect you and, instead, he was allowing you to get hurt. But you stayed. And Remus was impossibly grateful for that.

Remus groaned as another ache shot through his body, and he turned tugging the blanket closer to him. The moon made him feel the need to hold you close all of the time. He yearned for the smell of your shampoo and the coolness of your skin flush against his. When the moon made him get like this Remus often found himself missing class. All of the people just made his nerves sizzle. Unfortunately, your boyfriend's condition did not mean that you also got a free pass to skip class. Or Sirius for that matter. So, instead of having you close, Remus lay curled up in his bed as his bones ached, waiting antagonisingly for you to return.

When you finally pushed the door open quietly as to stop it creaking, you were clinging onto Sirius’ arm. You arm was looped between his and you leaned your head against the crook of his shoulder. The two of you had been like that all day, he could tell.

You and Sirius had had a busy day to say the least. Not only had potions class run over, but you also had homework that you needed to catch up on during your lunch break. Not that you actually got much done with Sirius around. Sirius was an observer. He could tell from the way you held your shoulders higher than usual and walked with heavier steps that you were stressed. So he did all he could to help you relax a little. Knowing that you were also worried about your boyfriend, he placed gentle kisses to your forehead whilst you worked, or stole them from your lips in the corridor. He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you to his chest to try and expel the tension from your body. Your boyfriend's efforts seemed to have helped because by the time the bell finally rang and the doors spilled open to reveal the flood of students, you were feeling much better. Especially because you could now fill the empty space that Remus’ absence had created.

“Rem?” Your voice was quiet and tender, near a whisper in case he was asleep, or was finding everything too loud.

He peeked his head out from under the blanket, his hair tousled from hours of restlessness. You smiled at him brightly. It was enough for him to return it, and lift his sour mood.

“Hey, Dove.” he greeted, shuffling out of bed to greet you. He couldn’t help but eye his boyfriend who stood with his hand placed tenderly on your lower back. Remus’ fingers twitched. “Good day?”

You hummed, slipping off your shoes and making your way over him to wrap him up in your embrace. You knew it had likely been a tough day for him. “Better now you’re here.”

As you took another step closer to him and away from Sirius the tender moment between the two of you was interrupted. At first, Remus had thought it was because he was standing right next to you. That his nose was getting confused, another side effect of the moon, but now you were standing right beside him across the room from your other partner, Remus knew that he was not mistaken. You stank entirely of Sirius: warm, musky, rich, honey-like and a little earthy. It was complemented by the faint smell of cigarette smoke and leather from his jacket. Normally, the boy would savour the smell of his partner, but you smelt so much like him that it completely drowned out everything about your scent. Something possessive inside him seemed to switch on.

Remus snatched you up immediately, pressing you so tight to his chest that you thought he was going to smother you. He couldn’t help the glare he sent to his boyfriend over the top of your head. Glowering, he pressed a kiss to your head as his fingers reached to fiddle with the hem of your jumper, trying to inch it upward.

You pulled away and frowned at him. Sirius also bore a similar expression. “Moony?”

“You smell of him.” It was a simple statement that came out almost as a growl in his voice.

“Who?”

Remus gestured to Sirius, who had moved to sit on the edge of his bed, with a nod of his head. When he spoke, his tone was filled with something Remus did not possess often. Jealousy. “Sirius.”

Sirius furrowed his brows, before realisation crossed his face and he gave you a look. Remus was feeling left out. He had been feeling rotten all day and now he was being left with a constant reminder of how you and Sirius had been spending the day clinging onto each other instead of him. To make matters worse, the moon was making him possessive: he needed to state what was his.

“Take it off.” Remus’ voice was demanding, but you could hear the need hidden deep behind it. “Please.”

You nodded, your hands slipping over him as you helped him to remove your jumper. Remus tossed it to Sirius and pulled you back to him. Although the jumper was gone, which had helped a little, he could still smell his boyfriend all over you. Understanding this from the way Remus shifted antstily, being the loving boyfriend that he is, Sirius moved to Remus’ trunk to pull out one of his jumpers for you to wear. Before he could reach it however, Remus snapped.

“Don’t touch them.” Remus moved toward his trunk and took a sweater before a very startled Sirius could react. Siri nodded slowly, taking a step back and raising his hands in a surrendering gesture. When after seeing you slip it on, the boy released a breath he hadn’t even known he was holding. It was better, but his mind still screamed at him: mineminemine.

“You alright Moons?” Sirius asked hesitantly, unsure or not whether to approach or not. Remus was still holding you close to him, peppering you with kisses, though he seemed to be less tense now.

He hummed, twisting toward his boyfriend but still not letting you go. This time his expression held much less venom than it had before “Sorry…” He started “I don’t know what came over me.”

Sirius took his chance to move toward him. Instinctively, Moony turned you away, but instead of trying to move you as he thought Sirius would, his boyfriend placed an arm on his shoulder. “It’s alright Rem. I understand.”

Remus tucked your head beneath his chin as your hand wandered to his own to fiddle with the rings on his fingers. “Still. I guess I thought I could handle being alone today… but it was all just a bit much. And seeing her come in here smelling of you…”

“Shh” Siri hushed, smoothing Remus’ hair. “You want to lay down?”

Remus nodded. “Is that okay with you, Dove?” He asked.

“Of course.” You smiled. Taking Remus’ hand you moved over to the bed, shifting the covers out of the way so you could climb beneath them. Remus followed, tucking you close to his body once more, and then Sirius lay on the other side of Remus, resting his head on his shoulder.

Remus relaxed into the mattress as you ran lazy circles over the palm of the hand he was using to keep you in place. He pressed his lips to your head.

“I love you.” He murmured. “I’m so glad I can call you mine.”

“And we are glad to be yours.” Siri told him.

“Thank you for doing this. I’m sorry if I overreacted…”

“Never.” You said. “Anything for our Moony.”

Remus pulled you closer to him. You had a feeling you weren’t going to be moving anytime soon.

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

MARAUDERS TAGS:

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

#marauders x reader #wolfstar x reader #wolfstar #marauders #Remus Lupin #Remus Lupin x Reader #Sirius black x reader #Sirius black #full moon #werewolf #possessive #remus lupin x sirius black #remus x sirius #Remus lupin x Sirius black x Reader #Remus x Sirius x Reader #fluff #angst

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onefunctioningbraincell · 3 months

Text

John hated to go on a mission right after a big fight with his girlfriend. She was so young and temperamental, and to make things worse, she was also stubborn as hell. Sure, he wasn’t without fault either, but he was older and wiser, always doing his best to mentor her, teach her how to be more patient. So when he was facing radio silence on her part, he began to lose his calm little by little.

At first he only noticed the rapidly declining amount of his beloved cigars. Then he became irritated, snapping at people for no serious reason. Simon knew what was eating him. He always knew when they were fighting at home, as if he had a sixth sense for this thing. The lieutenant was sneakier than him as he always suggested bypassing his girlfriend and talking straight to her parents.

They loved John. Maybe because they were closer in age compared to her previous boyfriends, or maybe because he was in the military and they knew he would do anything to protect their daughter from harm. Either way, this trick usually worked, and as if he was a lucky charm because it was his idea, Simon had to sit there and listen to the conversation.

“I’ve been trying to reach her, but there’s nothing, she doesn’t even read my messages,” he complained to the couple. His friend gave him a thumbs up then he rolled up his balaclava to his nose before lighting a cigarette. “Have you talked to her? Is she okay?” John pressed on, trying to sound extremely worried.

In reality, he wasn’t worried. He knew she was okay because she was always okay. She was just acting like a brat, a behavioral trait that he would have to correct once he got home. He listened to her parents explain how she had just visited them the day before, and how her mother would immediately call and scold her for making him so worried about her.

“You don’t need to, I’m sure she’ll reach out eventually,” he told them, sounding as relieved as he could.

They said their goodbyes and he tossed the phone on the desk. He looked over at Simon who flashed a Cheshire Cat smile at him before saying, “Told you they would know. They always know,” he added with a laugh.

“I can’t believe this woman. Just because we get into some stupid fight over something as trivial as who will pay for our trip to Italy, she goes no contact with me,” John said before letting out an exasperated sigh and sitting down on his chair.

“What was that fight about exactly? She doesn’t wanna pay?”

A scoff left the captain’s lips. “The opposite. She received a hefty bonus at work and now she wants to pay for the trip,” he told him with a shake of his head.

But Simon only tilted his head to the side as he blew out some smoke. “What’s wrong with that?” the lieutenant asked, genuinely curious about the answer.

John shook his head. “Nothing, I know that, but she should save that money. I always tell her to be reasonable when spending it,” he replied. “I want to take care of her. Am I a bad person for this?”

“No, you’re not.” The captain opened his mouth to say thank you, but Simon was quick to raise a hand and stop him. “But you should let her treat you every now and then. She wants to do something nice for you, John. Don’t take this away from her.”

With a sigh, John picked up his phone and began to type a message in the app you used. When he put it back down, Simon raised an eyebrow in question. “I sent her a text where I admit she was right and I won’t interfere in her plan,” he informed his friend.

“I’m sure she will be very happy to read this.”

She might be happy to win this battle, but he sure as hell wasn’t about to lose the war. He just needed to put a little more effort into the process of making her his pretty little housewife. Once he was done, she would have to do nothing but stay at home and wait for him to go home to her.

Soon after Simon left the office, John’s phone beeped twice. He took a look at the screen and noticed it was a message from her. With a smile on his lips he opened it, only to find a photo of her in nothing but a set of brand new lingerie with a short sentence under it.

I bought this for you. I have something special in mind for the day you come home 🎀❤️

#john price #john price x reader #captain john price #captain john price x reader #modern warfare #mw2 #mw3 #call of duty #simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost

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ameliathornromance · 4 months

Text

"I don't know if this is a good idea." Your Orc Boyfriend told you.

"This place is fine!" You smiled at him. Gripped onto his hand, you pointed to the door of the Inn. "I already told you that they're welcoming to everyone. You'll be fine."

All around you, people stalk by, heads shrouded in cloak hoods and clutched tightly around their necks to stop the downpour of rain.

Your Orc Boyfriend grumbled as a gust of wind sent a chill down both of your spines. He looked over his shoulder, pulling the poorly fitting hood further over his face. He sighed. "Okay, let's get out of the cold then."

Beaming, you pushed open the Inn door. The two of you entered and were instantly hit with warmth. Chatter drowned out the bard who played at the very end of the tavern. But no one spared a glance at the two of you, even as your Orc Boyfriend pulled down his hood.

"Right, let's see if we can get something to eat." You mumbled. You pulled him away from the door, desperate to get further away from the cold draft that had followed you inside.

"(Y/N)? No, that's not you,"

Whipping your head around at the mention of your name, you couldn't stop your grin. "Boor? Is that you?"

"Boor?" Your Orc Boyfriend questioned, but there was no time to give an answer.

A human man, twice the size of a regular man, pushed his way through a crowd of Goblins to you. "It's been so long my friend!" He grabbed you and lifted you off the floor.

You let go of your Orc Boyfriend's hand and wrapped your arms around Boor.

Once you were let go, your boyfriend instantly pulled you into a protective grip. Hunching over you and crossing an arm over your chest protectively, your Orc Boyfriend shot a glower at the man.

Boor didn't even glance at your boyfriend, instead bending down to you, "are you well my friend?"

Sensing the tension from your partner, you placed your hand on his forearm and squeezed. "I'm good... Boor, I'd like you to meet my partner: (O/N)."

Boor finally acknowledged your boyfriend and gave him a toothy grin. "An Orc?! Amazing! I haven't seen any of you for a few years! I hope you and your kind are keeping well!"

Your Orc Boyfriend seemingly relaxed at his recognition and grunted in return. "We are well."

"Come, allow me to buy you drinks, we must catch up!"

"Actually," Your Orc cut off. "We should get a room."

"(O/N)'s right, sorry Boor." You smiled apologetically. "Maybe later, we're both freezing from travelling."

"Ah, if you must." Boor sighed, "I will see you later my friends!"

When you and your partner had been settled in a room, you both collapsed onto the bed. A fire crackled in the corner of the room, punctuating the silence.

"Who is this 'Boor' man?" Your Orc Boyfriend asked.

"Boor's a good friend of mine." You explained, "he's part man, part giant. Super friendly and kind, but not very good at reading other people." You snorted, "one time, we nearly got caught in a Drider's web because Boor said he promised to feed us. Little did we know, he was actually trying to fatten us up to eat."

"Sounds like a shit travelling companion." Your partner grumbled.

"He meant well." You rolled your eyes and smiled. Both of you returned to silence for a moment. "...Were you jealous?"

"No." Your Orc Boyfriend said too quickly. He rolled over, back facing towards you.

You could barely suppress a grin from coming over you. "You have nothing to be jealous of, I only have eyes for you." Placing a hand on his bicep, you leaned your head against the square of his back.

"..." Your partner didn't respond for a moment. Then he rolled over and scooped you up in his arms and squeezed you tightly. "Good. If it weren't for the Inn full of people, I would have beat him to death for even touching you."

You rolled your eyes and squeezed him tightly. "I'm glad you didn't. Otherwise we'd be camping outside again and I don't think that you would want to do that."

"It would be worth it if it meant protecting my partner."

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moonlinos · 4 months

Text

Invisible string (pt. I)

♡ Pairing: Lee Minho × fem!reader / Hwang Hyunjin × fem!reader

♡ Synopsis: With your terrible history of boyfriends during high school, you swore off love and vowed to get through university without a relationship. Things are great: you’re in your junior year, in an uncomplicated arrangement with a friend with benefits, and living in a nice sharehouse with two amazing roommates. But things begin to change once you meet Lee Minho, a student in your new class who vows to change your perspective on love.

♡ Genre: A ‘lite version’ of a soulmate AU, fluff, eventual smut, light angst, pining, jealousy, strangers to friends to lovers, friends with benefits

♡ CW: Swearing, sexual themes and discussions, mentions of anxiety/panic attacks, alcohol consumption, mentions of smoking

♡ Word count: 16.4k

♡ A/N: This is a three-part story because I can’t shut up. The second part will be posted sometime next week, and I’ll link it here. I’ve been writing all my life and have written for maaaany fandoms, but being on Tumblr as an active reader of SKZ fics made me want to write for them. So, yeah, guess this is what I’m doing now.

part II →

You are woken up by Hyunjin shifting beside you on the bed. He groans, arm reaching to mess with your already closed curtains. You chuckle.

“You know, the curtains won’t close any more than that.”

“I keep telling you your bed is in a terrible position,” He grumbles as you turn to face him with a smile. “Who thought placing a bed right under a window would be a good idea? Mornings are fucking hell here.”

You shrug. “Well, it’s not my house so I didn’t exactly have a say in that matter.”

“I told you a million times I could help you move it.”

“And I told you a million times Mrs. Choi doesn’t like for us to mess with her furniture,” You explain, turning under the sheets so you could face him before bringing your fingers up to pinch his cheek. Hyunjin scrunches his nose. “Speaking of which, you need to leave. You know her rule: no—”

“No boyfriends spending more than two days at the house,” He interrupted you with an eye roll. “I’m not your boyfriend, though, so that rule shouldn’t apply.” He shrugs.

Hyunjin has been one of your best friends since you first met over two years ago. It was Hyunjin’s first college party and one of the many times your housemates had dragged you along on a night out. His friends had dared him to try and chat you up, arguing it would be hilarious to see him get turned down by an older girl. What they hadn’t expected, however, was for Hyunjin’s clumsy attempt at flirting to be so endearing to you; his pink cheeks and bowl-cut hair made him look like a helpless kid despite his height towering over you. Before you knew it, you had spent the entirety of the party talking to him about everything and anything, only stopping once your housemate Eunha emerged from inside the house to drag you home with her as she desperately tried to dodge a rather insistent guy’s advances. After that day, you and Hyunjin became almost inseparable.

You can’t quite pinpoint when you began hooking up. It was meaningless in the best sense of the word. It was simply something that had happened. All you can remember is that Jisung had recently bleached Hyunjin’s hair after yet another dare from his friend. It had started with cuddles, which turned to kisses, which turned to touches, until you eventually slept together for the first time sometime last year after an excruciatingly stressful exam period. It had never once gotten weird between the two of you; the line was always clear: you were just friends who hooked up due to convenience. Everybody had needs and stress and shit complicating their lives, and fucking your best friend was far more practical and safe than going out to look for a random hook-up whenever you needed it.

You find yourself smiling at Hyunjin once again. His now long black hair fell in his eyes as he stretched his arms over his head.

“Yes, you’re not my boyfriend, but how am I supposed to explain what we are to a little old lady?”

“Doesn’t she always say she’s super modern?” Hyunjin raises his eyebrows at you with a chuckle. “Maybe she’d like a situationship of her own and you’re depriving her of that by keeping this knowledge to yourself.”

You roll your eyes at his words, attempting to push him off your bed. “Why did you sleep here, anyway?”

Hyunjin sits up on the bed, a pout on his full lips. “I had a shitty date. I was sad and lonely. Glad to know you were paying attention to my story.”

“Hyune,” You sigh, ‘When you tell me said story while fucking me, can I really be blamed for not remembering anything?”

Hyunjin flicks your forehead lightly. “Yes, you can. At this point, it’s like our thing to vent about bad dates during sex,” He argues before getting up from your bed, finding his shirt, which had somehow been thrown over your study desk.

“You mean it’s your thing,” Correcting him, you get up as well, turning to fix up your sheets. “I don’t even go on dates and you know that. The only thing I vent to you about is how awful academic life is.”

Once you turned to face him again, Hyunjin was busy messily tying his hair. His brows promptly furrowed as he took in your words. “Remind me why you literally never leave the house again?”

“Just don’t want to get distracted. Getting my degree is more important than getting a boyfriend.” You lie with a shrug.

Your history with relationships was something you kept secret from everyone you met after high school. You feel embarrassed, as if it was all somehow your fault. After five failed relationships where you had been the one to be broken up with or cheated on, you began to accept that maybe the problem really was you. Maybe something about you makes men want to yell at and cheat on you. Perhaps you are just bound to be a distraction until they find someone better.

Which is why you don’t date.

Would anyone go through the hassle of reading a long, tedious book if they already knew about the bad ending?

Hyunjin rolls his eyes at your answer, crossing his arms over his chest. “Your degree isn’t going to keep you company when you’re eighty and alone.”

“Well, my degree isn’t going to wake up one day and suddenly decide to leave me either,” you refute, earning an annoyed groan from your friend as you walk past him to leave your room.

“You literally never have fun, though. All you do is go to class, work, and study. You should at least pick up a new hobby,” Hyunjin insists as he follows you, walking into the kitchen-living room area. “Go out more, stop avoiding college parties like the plague before it’s too late to experience the joys of watching your friend throw up on some random person’s couch.”

You make a face at the offers, grabbing your mug from the cupboard. “Why would I want to see that? Besides, I have hobbies.”

“I meant a social hobby. Sitting in your room watching fucking iceberg videos isn’t sociable,” He explains, and you let out an aggrieved gasp. Your iceberg videos were educational and entertaining, thank you very much. Behind you, your housemate’s bedroom door opens, and you turn to watch as she stumbles out of her room, looking half-awake. “Soojung, don’t you think she should get a new hobby?” Hyunjin addresses the blonde girl, who stares daggers at him.

“If I say yes, will you two stop speaking so loud?”

Hyunjin slams one hand on the kitchen counter, his other pointing a finger at you. “See, she said yes. You’re outnumbered, now you have to stop spending all your free time holed up inside your room.”

Soojung groans, stepping into the kitchen and shoving Hyunjin to the side. “He’s annoying, but he is kind of right,” she mumbles.

Truthfully, you did feel bad about having essentially wasted three years at university by actively avoiding parties and invitations any chance you got. The only parties you did attend, however, only served as an irritating reminder as to why you shouldn’t put yourself in those situations. Parties and bars only meant desperate college boys. Desperate for sex, for attention, for a potential relationship. For someone’s heart to break. You had met Hyunjin at a party, for fuck’s sake. Who knows just how south things between you two could’ve gone if he had become interested in you romantically?

But, as much as you hate to admit it, Hyunjin is right. Your life is essentially an endless loop of studying and working. You only socialize when your roommates are home, when your few friends come over, and when you and Hyunjin hook up. But you aren’t ready to step out of your comfortable bubble of avoidance, so you settle for the best thing you can think of.

As Hyunjin rummages through your fridge like he lived there and Soojung stirs her coffee blankly, you loudly set your mug down on the counter. “An elective course,” you announce.

The both of them turn to face you with the same puzzled expression.

“The fuck?” Hyunjin questions, and you roll your eyes.

“I’ll take an elective,” you explain matter-of-factly, “The university offers a lot of great courses in things I’m actually interested in. It’ll be a way for me to get out of the house without having to watch a friend of mine puke on a couch or whatever atrocity it is that you said.”

Hyunjin slams the fridge door closed, earning a scolding scream from Soojung, and walks over to where you’re standing. He pulls you into a tight embrace, and you can hear the smile in his voice as he says, “You’re such a fucking nerd, what the fuck, but I’m so glad your hermit life is coming to an end.”

The elective course you choose is Japanese. It’s a language you’ve always been interested in learning, and while you know the class is merely introductory, you figure it will be fun to learn some phrases and expressions. You might even find yourself wanting to learn more in the future, and you’ll undoubtedly be glad you took this class during university.

Even if that means having to endure Hyunjin calling you a weeb.

You are able to begin attending classes a week after signing up; the lessons lining up with your work schedule to a T. The professor explained that, since you had joined the course late, you would likely need some guidance with phrases and words the class had already been taught. You didn’t mind, actually feeling excited in the morning despite your boring routine classes since you knew you would be doing something new you enjoyed in the afternoon instead of simply killing time around your house until it was time for you to work.

You walk into your first class ten minutes late, mentally cursing Eunha for being so good at telling stories about her weirdly entertaining life that it made it physically difficult for you to drag yourself away from her. You mouth a brief apology to your professor before scanning the room and scurrying over to the only available seat.

You sit down in haste so as to not disrupt the class any further, swinging your bag over your chair and accidentally knocking over your seatmate’s water bottle all over his side of the desk. Luckily, the bottle lands on the soft surface of his notebook, barely making any noise. Unluckily, said bottle had been filled with coffee, staining his notes a faded brown color. You silently gasp, instinctively reaching out your hands to fruitlessly try and dry the pages that are now sticking to each other.

“I am so sorry, what the fuck,” you mutter under your breath as you continue to inspect his notebook frantically. “I’ll buy you a new notebook and another cup of coffee as soon as class ends, I promise,” You whisper to him, your eyes boring holes into the stained pages as you watch the bitter liquid slowly dissolve some of the black ink. At this point, you’re rambling out of nervousness, but you can’t seem to stop, adding, “Hell, I’m so angry at myself for what I did I’d bind you a new notebook and brew you some fresh coffee myself.”

You mentally berate yourself for your word vomit. It was just your luck that you would make someone hate your guts on the first day you attended a class.

After what feels like minutes of silence from him, you are prepared for the imminent burst of rage bound to come your way, the guy’s wrath more than likely stirring inside him as he sits beside you and watches as you foolishly shake the piece of paper, hoping it will miraculously return to its untainted state.

However, what you aren’t prepared for is the small burst of laughter that leaves your seatmate’s lips; it’s quiet, but you’re close enough to him to be able to hear it.

You furrow your brows, finally mustering the courage to look up at him for the first time.

“Did you…” You trail off. You feel a strange sensation inside your chest as your eyes meet his. It was something you had never felt before, a small burst of a fluttering that briskly washed over you before disappearing just as quickly. Like a pinwheel was placed inside of you and a strong wind had suddenly started blowing. You shake your head, returning to the matter at hand. You are probably just experiencing some anxiety due to what has happened, you argue mentally. “Did you just laugh at me?”

As you finally take him in properly, the guy before you looks as dazed as you felt just now, courtesy of your minor panic attack; his lips agape and his round eyes blinking while his dark pupils are fixed on you. You two remain that way for a few seconds in an impromptu staring contest that causes the peculiar feeling to bloom inside your chest once again.

When he finally speaks, his voice is soft. “You… offered to bind a notebook for a stranger,” His lips twitch into a grin. “It was a little funny.”

You open your mouth but promptly close it, unable to come up with an answer that wouldn’t make you appear like more of an idiot than you already do. You sigh. “Sorry,” you mumble, your voice low as well. “I say stupid shit when I’m nervous.”

He waves his hand dismissively. “It’s okay. I’m—”

“You two, on the back,” your professor calls out in a louder voice, however still keeping her calm demeanor. You and your seatmate turn to look at her. “I’m going to teach a few new phrases useful for traveling now. How about you two talk after class? This is actually quite perfect. Minho is one of my best students, so he could help you catch up to where we are.” She offers the two of you a small smile, and you feel your cheeks burn.

This class wasn’t mandatory, and you didn’t need it to get your degree. It is still a class, nonetheless. Ever since high school, you’ve always hated people who disrespect their professors by brazenly talking or sleeping during class.

“I’m sorry, professor,” You muttered. Beside you, your seatmate — Minho, as he was just called — scoots closer to you and whispers something you don’t understand under his breath. You look at him, confused. He chuckles, and you feel his breath on your cheek. It makes the odd fluttering return.

“Gomenasai,” He repeats more clearly, his voice louder, “It’s ‘I’m sorry’ in Japanese.” He offers you a smile, and you soak in just how good-looking he is. Ever since you first raised your head to look at him — when the pinwheel inside your chest rapidly spun and unexplainedly made you feel nervous — you knew he was a handsome guy, but his soft smile and calm eyes made him look even more annoyingly pretty.

Before you’re able to do it yourself, your professor speaks again and pulls you out of your trance.

“In this case, Sumimasen would be a bit more appropriate,” she corrects Minho, who clicks his tongue and mutters something under his breath. The woman chuckles at his reaction. “It’s okay. This is also something you can explain to Y/N after class.”

As the class went on, you couldn’t help but notice how Minho didn’t take any notes. Your mind latched onto how you ruined his notebook and how it was your fault that he couldn’t properly study during today’s class, so you couldn’t find the courage to offer him some paper so he could take notes.

After almost an hour of unrelenting guilt swallowing you up slowly, you place your hand on Minho’s shoulder as soon as the professor announces class is over after assigning the students a small written assignment.

“We could talk outside? If you want,” you offer him, feeling the now-familiar nervousness come back, making your mouth speak faster than your brain can even think to rationalize, “There’s a bench I really like outside this building. It’s a good spot. There’s a nice shade, and it’s secluded enough that people don’t bother me when I’m studying. Or googling how to bind a notebook.”

Minho lets out a brief chuckle. “Okay. I would love to talk on your favorite bench.”

You blink at him. “I don’t have a favorite bench.”

“Hm, it sure sounded like it. You listed some good attributes of that bench,” He argues, a grin etched onto his lips.

“I told you I say stupid shit when I’m nervous.”

He raises an eyebrow at your words. “You’re nervous?”

“Of course I am. I never bound a notebook before.”

Minho lets out a hearty laugh this time, his head thrown back and his eyes turning into crescent moons before he shakes his head. He picks his notebook off the table, showing you the crinkly light brown-tinted pages. “It’s dry now. I actually kind of like it, gave the pages a sort of vintage vibe. You don’t have to bind me a new notebook,” He reassures you, placing the small book into his bag. “As much as I would love to see how that would turn out.”

And just like that, your nervousness fades away. You smile at Minho, asking that he follow you over to your favorite bench.

The two of you talked for almost two hours. During that time, Minho helped you catch up with the vocabulary and phrases you had missed in class. When you asked him how he was able to know so much off the top of his head, his lips curled into a crooked grin as he sheepishly told you that he had been taking Japanese lessons since he was in high school. He explained that because he procrastinated signing up for an elective course, the advanced class was full by the time he got to it, so he decided to go for the introductory one instead. You chuckled and questioned why he would choose to spend his time on a course when he already knew everything being taught. He shrugged and explained that it was nice to have at least one class in which he didn’t have to try and that the fact that it made him feel smart also helped.

Not even your shift at work was able to make your conversation stop flowing, as Minho offered to walk with you to the coffee shop upon realizing it was near his apartment.

That was one of the many coincidences and things in common you found to have with each other that day.

It started with ordinary things like the fact that Minho had three cats back home just like you and how he had been collecting plushies since he was a child, while you had started your own collection as soon as you had access to money of your own. Or how your favorite authors were Jane Austen and Charlotte Brontë — Minho swore you would die if you saw the special edition books he had back at home.

Then, it became a bit more amusing as you found out that Minho had worked at a convenience store chain when he first finished high school, and it was the same one you worked at for your first job after starting university. And you both had worked there for exactly a year and two months before quitting. You then told him about how you ended up attending this university after your top three choices turned you down, and his choices were the same as yours. And just like you, he also got rejected by his top three options, which led him to attend the same university as you.

You two couldn’t hide your bewilderment, eyes widening and lips bursting into laughter as these linked facts kept spilling out during your conversation. It was strange, you thought, but in a comforting way. It was almost as if you two had been living weirdly similar lives, all while having no clue about the other’s existence.

The two of you approach the small coffee shop while talking about your degrees. You try your best not to bore Minho with your ‘existential crisis-inducing psychology talks,’ as Hyunjin always put it, and you mostly listen to him as he talks about programming. He tells you that his dream is to develop cozy games that people can jump into without much thought, simply to relax. He says he knows how stressful life is and that people sometimes need something they can mindlessly do to get their minds off of shit. You resonate with it more than you care to admit, as cozy idle games are one of your favorite things to do while locked inside your room.

“So I do these freelancing gigs to make money but I’m actually set to start my first quote-unquote real job in two weeks,” he beams as you two stop in front of the coffee shop. Minho’s eyes lit up the moment he started speaking about his degree, and although you didn’t understand most of the terms he used, it is always endearing to watch someone talk about something they’re so passionate about. “There’s this guy who’s graduating soon who recruited me and a friend for a project he’s working on, so it’s not technically a job and we’ll work in his living room. I’ll still get some money and the chance to actually develop something, though, so it’s better than nothing.”

You smile at him. “If you like programming as much as your words led me to believe, I’m sure it won’t even feel like a job.”

Minho’s ears turned a faint shade of pink, and he scratched his head. “Sorry, I talked your ear off about shit you don’t even understand.”

“I think everybody likes to hear people talk about things they like,” you assure him, “It was a good talk. I still can’t believe we have so many things in common. It was kind of funny how they kept coming up.”

Minho chuckles, bouncing on the heels of his feet. “Guess the universe is giving us signs that we should be friends.”

“It seems like it.”

That day, you work with a persistent smile engraved on your lips. You can’t remember the last time you felt so good about meeting someone new. Despite your awkward first encounter, you found that talking to Minho was as easy as talking to an old childhood friend. It felt refreshing. The last friend you made was Hyunjin — whom you were so grateful to now for pushing you out of your comfort zone — and after that, you had unknowingly closed yourself off.

Minho had managed to open up your mind to the idea of letting someone in almost comically fast. And you loved that.

It’s been a month since you’ve been attending Japanese classes, and your studying sessions with Minho — which always turned into long conversations on what now had really become your favorite bench — were a weekly appointment, much like having him walk with you to work twice a week.

Today, however, Minho stopped you with a hand on your shoulder as you made your way toward your usual spot. When he asked you if you would like to study at his favorite bakery today instead, his eyes rapidly blinking as he looked at you through his bangs which had grown to slightly cover his eyes since you met him, you just couldn’t say no. He stammered as he promised that the place was even closer than the one where you worked, so you wouldn’t be late for your shift.

You smiled at his apparent nervousness, finding it endearing. You knew all too well how stressed you felt when offering something new or initiating plans with a new friend, and Minho seemed to be the same.

“Good thing you made this offer today, on my day off,” you bumped shoulders with him. “It’s almost like you knew.”

You begin walking, and Minho gently pushes you to the side so that he’s the one walking on the edge of the side of the sidewalk. You shoot him a questioning look, and he blinks at you again.

“Sorry, force of habit,” he chuckles, “My mom taught me a guy shouldn’t let a girl walk on the street side. I know it’s old-fashioned and probably made me seem like an ancient guy who wouldn’t let his wife work or something. Sorry.”

You shake your head. “No, it’s kind of sweet. I never had anyone do that with me.”

You feel the pinwheel twirl inside your chest again.

The two of you approach a familiar building together. You furrow your eyebrows as you take in the floral curtains on the windows and the pretty font adorning the store sign of your favorite bakery. You think about how it would be nice if you two came here on another day. Maybe you could use that opportunity to finally introduce Minho to your other friends.

You only realize Minho has stopped walking when he calls out your name. When you turn around, he’s standing in front of the bakery with a smile.

“This is the place.” He points toward the white door with a nod as you return to where he’s standing.

No fucking way.

“This is your favorite bakery?” You ask, although it is a stupid question. Minho nods. You play with the strap of your bag. “Okay, this is starting to sound ridiculous, but I swear I’m not lying. This is my favorite bakery, too.”

Minho’s eyes widen at your words, and his lips curl into a smile again. “Shut the fuck up.”

“I will not,” You chuckle.

Minho opens the door and the two of you walk inside, the familiar smell of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods bringing back great memories you made in this place. You often come here with your two roommates; it’s close enough to both your house and university that you can skip out on taking the bus, the atmosphere is always relaxing and comforting, not to mention the delicious cakes they sell. You smile to yourself as you remember Eunha scuffing down far too many slices of their chocolate cake after a nasty breakup a couple of months ago, tears streaming down her face so violently that the poor little old man who owns the shop appeared to check up on her.

“Their lemon cake is my favorite.”

“The lemon cake is what made me—”

You and Minho speak concurrently, with you unable to even finish your sentence before you both freeze for a couple of seconds in front of the only small table available at the crowded shop.

He’s the first one to move, pulling out his chair a bit awkwardly. “We should…” He trails off before clearing his throat as you sit down before him. “Should really make a written list of things we weirdly have in common.”

“At this point, I think it’d be easier if we made one of what we don’t have in common.”

You two settle for the obvious choice of two pieces of lemon cake with a cup of coffee for him and a glass of cola for you. Minho almost looked offended when you informed him that you hate coffee, wondering out loud why you even worked at a coffee shop before ensuring he could change your mind with just the five amazing facts about coffee he thought about off the top of his head. You shrugged him off with a grin. You couldn’t deny the irony of being a barista and having to make endless cups of a drink you despised daily, but you were sure Minho could never change your mind about coffee.

You two talked about your improvement in Japanese in the last month until the waiter returned with your order. Minho insists you’re a natural and could be on his level in a couple of years if you tried, but you roll your eyes at his compliments. You’ve never been naturally good at anything. That wasn’t about to change now.

“You know,” Minho begins once the waiter steps away from your table, looking around the coffee shop. People slowly started to leave as it got later in the day; the place was now much quieter, and the atmosphere even more cozy. “I used to think I would meet somebody in a place like this.”

“Like, in a romantic sense?”

Minho hums, still looking out to his side. You notice his side profile is really pretty, and you have to hide your smile by sipping your drink.

When he returns his gaze to you, he’s the one smiling. “Yes, in a romantic sense. Like being destined to meet someone.”

“Look at you, a hopeless romantic,” You roll your eyes with a chuckle. You never thought of Minho as someone like that. He seemed rather methodical, always following a routine and too engrossed in his codes to be preoccupied with something like love.

Minho furrowed his brows. “Why the eye roll?”

“I just don’t believe in that stuff,” you shrug with a small smile, “Stuff like destiny, soulmates, love…” You trail off, taking your spoon and poking the slice of cake in front of you. “Love has the awful tendency of being bad.”

Of course, you once believed all those things. Doesn’t everybody? But love has shown you time and time again that those are things reserved only for some people. And, clearly, you are not one of them. So why believe in it?

“It’s the most amazing thing in life,” Minho’s voice almost startled you as you were so deeply entranced in your thoughts.

You don’t lift your head to answer him, instead drawing mindless shapes on the icing on top of your cake.

“What is?”

“Love,” He replies in a soft voice. When you finally look at him, you’re surprised to find Minho’s deep eyes already looking at you, a small smile adorning his lips. “Love is the most amazing thing in life.”

You freeze.

You tear your eyes away from him, gaze focusing on the plate in front of you again.

You were careful with your rules. No parties, no bars, no talking to your male co-workers unless absolutely necessary, and no male friends unless they were in a relationship or proved beyond a reasonable doubt to only be interested in you platonically — which was what Minho was. So, why did him bringing up love make you feel so nervous?

Under the table, you unwittingly bounce your leg. This was stupid. Minho has been your friend for a month now; you see each other twice a week, and you talk for hours, always so comfortable around each other in a way that is still so new to you. He has never flirted with you or treated you in any way that led you to believe that he wanted anything more than to be your friend. You will not let your foolish trauma ruin what was proving to be an amazing friendship. He was simply sharing his thoughts on a topic. That’s all love was: a conversation topic.

You force out a chuckle as you snap yourself out of your senseless panic and look up at Minho once more. “We can just agree to disagree?”

He’s quiet for a few seconds, something you can’t quite pinpoint swimming in his deep eyes as he looks at you. Instead of breaking the silence, he scoops up a piece of cake with his spoon and raises it like a glass. You shake your head with a giggle as you realize what he’s doing, toasting your spoons together at the center of the table before you both eat your spoonfuls of cake.

“You know,” He speaks as soon as he’s done eating, his eyes having never left yours. “Love can never be bad. I don’t think so, at least. It never makes anything worse. It can only ever make things better.”

You hum and shift in your seat, lowering your gaze toward the table. The truth is, you hate talking about love. That — coupled with your shame regarding your past relationships — is the reason why you never indulge in this type of conversation, even with your own mother. But years of swallowing down your thoughts and opinions whenever the subject was brought up only caused a buildup of emotions in your throat. So much so that you only realized you were talking once you were midway through a sentence.

“Love can make so many things worse,” you affirmed, your eyes following the polka-dot pattern on the tablecloth, “Losing someone is bad enough, but put love into that equation, and it just worsens tenfold.”

Minho nods. “By that logic, you can say that having someone by your side is always good, but if it’s someone you love, it makes it better tenfold, right?”

You let out a chuckle as you realize you two could go back and forth about that subject for ages.

But it felt good to finally speak out your feelings on the matter, so you continue, “Love can’t be that great if people can so easily fall out of it and for so many different but equally stupid reasons. You’re suddenly not attractive to them anymore, or you have different opinions, or they love picking fights but hate it when it’s the other way around…” You trail off, swallowing down a lump in your throat as you speak out of experience. But Minho didn’t need to know that. You lift your eyes. “Not to mention falling in love with a new person all while supposedly already being in love with someone.”

“That’s not genuine love,” Minho shakes his head with furrowed eyebrows, as if it was his first time hearing of such things happening. “Real love is unconditional and understanding. Real love makes the person you love beautiful simply because they’re them. Real love doesn’t allow you to hurt the person you love because it feels like you’re hurting yourself as well.” His expression softens, and his eyes lock onto yours. “And real love makes it so that you can only see the one you love. You can’t possibly fall in love with someone else if you’re truly already in love.”

You gnaw on your bottom lip, nodding slowly. You hate the fact that part of you is desperate to believe that what Minho said was true. And you hate it even more that an even bigger part has already dismissed every single word that left his lips.

Desperate to shift the subject from Reasons Why My Exes Left Me — which only leaves you feeling sad and pathetic — back to Love Is Amazing, you decide to try and lighten the mood.

“Okay, but then explain to me how love is so great when you can just have sex with anyone, and it feels the same either way?” You question him with a teasing grin on your face. Minho shakes his head with a smile and eats another bite of his cake. You continue, “Be it a stranger at a party you met ten minutes ago or the love of your life, sex will always be sex. Therefore, you’re wrong, mister Love-Makes-Everything-Better.”

Minho chuckles around his mug, eyes closing as he almost spits out his coffee. His eyes are like crescent moons when he looks at you again, clearly amused by your words. “Well, yeah, of course, sex will always feel good no matter who you’re doing it with. It’s sex, and sex feels good,” He shrugs dismissively. “But sex with love is different. You aren’t just fucking, just fulfilling your own desires selfishly. Love makes sex better because you feel good simply by making the person who’s so important to you feel good. It makes you want to melt into the other person and become one with them because close isn’t close enough when you’re in love.

“Touching them feels like a gift, like heaven. Tasting them feels like heaven. Hearing their voice in their most blissful state feels like heaven. The trust and connection you feel in that moment is heaven, and that’s only possible through love. You can have sex with anyone, but you can only make love to someone you love, and those are two different things. That’s how love makes sex better. Therefore, I’m not wrong.”

As you take in Minho’s words, spoken so casually, like it was common knowledge, they leave you speechless. You watch him as he smiles triumphantly when he realizes you aren’t going to refute him — because you can’t refute him.

You berate yourself mentally as you notice the familiar feeling of arousal wash over you as you repeat his words inside your head. Not because it was Minho who said those things, but simply because that kind of sex sounded so good. Good in a way you had never once experienced before. Like heaven, as he had put it.

Your experience with sex has always been simply about fulfilling desires. You thought that was all there was to it.

Until now.

And even so, with your ex-boyfriends, it was always unbalanced. Ninety percent about their pleasure and only ten percent about yours. The first time you had a guy go down on you was the first time you had sex with Hyunjin, and by that point, you had already had five boyfriends. It felt weird when it happened, and you remember Hyunjin whining about how you didn’t have to ask him every five minutes if he was really okay with doing that. It had always been different with him, the good kind of different. He had never been selfish during sex; if anything, Hyunjin was too much of a giver, sometimes forgetting about his own pleasure in order to focus on yours. You thought that was the best sex you could ever have.

Until now.

Because, even with Hyunjin, there was never a genuine connection. It never felt like a gift to touch him and have him touch you. It was never anything more than sex, more than something you both did because it felt good and it was easy. He slept in your bed, and he cuddled you until morning came, but it had never once felt anything close to what Minho described.

You can’t help but wonder if Minho has ever experienced that. You desperately want to ask him, but you two aren’t close enough for that yet.

You also can’t help but wonder why you spend the rest of the evening raging a war against yourself as your mind is consumed with thoughts of what it would be like to experience that kind of sex with him.

It’s late in the night on the following Saturday, and your phone incessantly vibrating under your pillow rudely demands your attention just as you’re about to fall asleep. You squint your eyes as you type in your password. You sigh as you see Hyunjin’s name on your screen because of course it’s him.

Hyune: I’m outside open the door Hyune: please open the door? quick? Hyune: mrs. choi is gonna kill me if I use the intercom pls I don’t wanna die Hyune: I’m in my pajamas do you know how humiliating this is

Hyune: and I’m highkey pissed off Hyune: I WILL sleep on the bench outside your house if you don’t let me in and then I’ll die and who’s gonna live with the guilt? Hyune: you Hyune: OPENM TEH DOOR

You roll your eyes at his dramatic texts, stepping out of the comfort of your bed and padding across the floor as quietly as possible so as not to wake up your roommates. You open your front door and speed past the hallway and Mrs. Choi’s home, reaching the outside door in record time. It’s something you’ve done more times than you care to admit in order to let Hyunjin into your house. Your tenant was a sweet woman, insistent that she was modern and understanding of ‘young people’, but she despised people coming into your home any later than midnight.

You step outside, finding Hyunjin pacing back and forth like a creep in front of your house. True to his words, he stood in his checkered pajama pants and a black t-shirt. His hair was in a ponytail, the strands messily sticking out everywhere like he had tossed and turned in bed before coming here.

“You look like shit,” you speak up, causing him to jump and let out a gasp. You chuckle as he scowls at you, climbing the few steps to reach the door.

“I had a fight with Mingyu,” he grumbles as you two walk toward your front door. “He told me I spilled paint on his favorite shirt, which is fucking impossible since I don’t even paint anywhere near his shit.”

“I mean, you are a messy painter.”

Hyunjin shoots you a look as you close your front door behind you. You take off your shoes and walk toward your bedroom in silence. This was routine. Hyunjin knew the rules: no knocking on the outside door, no buzzing the intercom, no shouting from outside, keep your voice down in the hallway, no talking until you reach your bedroom. It was all automatic at this point.

His voice is louder when he speaks again inside your locked bedroom. “First of all, I am not a messy painter. The paint is messy, not me. Second of all, if Mingyu wasn’t a fucking idiot, maybe he wouldn’t leave his favorite shirt on the floor of the living room right by my art corner,” Hyunjin huffs and crosses his arms over his chest, “If that’s how he treats his favorite shirt, I feel bad for his girlfriend.”

You let out a chuckle, which is cut short by him pulling you into his arms. “Hyunjin, that analogy makes no sense.”

“Yes, it does. You treat your favorite shirt like shit, you treat your girlfriend like shit,” he states matter-of-factly before pulling you into a kiss.

This was routine. It was all automatic at this point.

Hyunjin kisses you like he’s angry. Because he is, and that’s one of the reasons why you two do this. You let out your frustrations during sex. You complain, and you let off steam until you both feel okay again. It’s been this way for a year and some months now, and you never once thought anything of it. It was beneficial for you both, so why change or question it?

But that was before your talk with Minho. Before you were awoken to the truth that you’d been having meaningless sex your whole life.

When you’re pulled away from your thoughts, you’re already laid in your bed with Hyunjin hovering over you. His lips and hands wander through your body as he mumbles things you can’t quite understand; you can only make out your name and Mingyu’s mixed with curses. You try to bring yourself back to the moment, bringing your legs to wrap around Hyunjin’s waist and bring him closer to you.

He stops kissing your neck and yanks his shirt over his head, his hair untying in the process and falling on his face like a curtain. You giggle and try to fix it with your fingers. Hyunjin pouts.

“Don’t you think I’m right?”

You frown and hope he can’t see your confused expression in the dim lighting. You truly weren’t paying any attention to what he had been saying, too engrossed in your thoughts and too busy feeling sorry for yourself. Hyunjin’s tendency to tell you about his frustrations during sex always left you a bit puzzled, but it was also oddly sweet. It was like he trusted you so deeply as a friend that he believed he could share anything with you, no matter the time.

So you nod, lightly pulling at his hair. “Of course you’re right.”

He hums and buries his head on your chest, grinding his hips into your clothed core. “Of course I’m right,” he mumbles under his breath.

Everything is a blur after that, your mind insistent on repeating Minho’s words like an annoying echo. When Hyunjin’s tongue fucked you hastily, and he murmured something about you tasting so good, all you could hear was Minho’s voice telling you how tasting the person you love feels like heaven. When Hyunjin pushed his cock into you, his hands gripping your thighs and head buried in your neck, all you could think about was how this sex paled in comparison to what you could’ve been having — what you could have already had — if only you weren’t so damn unlovable.

You knew that Minho didn’t intend to make you feel bad with his words. They weren’t targeted at you. But that didn’t stop your mind from sabotaging and putting yourself down. It was one of your biggest talents, after all.

Your body was present and responsive the entire time; you moaned because it felt good, and you kissed Hyunjin because you wanted to. But you were mentally somewhere else.

And the worst thing is, you’re a hundred percent sure Hyunjin doesn’t even notice it.

Because this wasn’t love. This was only sex.

And this was all you had ever known.

Time flies by faster than your brain can comprehend; before you know it, another month goes by. You only managed to go to your favorite bakery with Minho one more time before your work hours were changed, your shift now starting a mere thirty minutes after your Japanese class ends. He still walked you to work twice a week, but you would be lying if you said it didn’t upset you to have to let go of your weekly talks.

Minho also became busier due to his own job. With so little time to see each other face to face outside of class, most of your talks took place over text. He talked about his job with so much adoration it made you a little jealous; his partners were now simply friends he worked with, and his joy over finally being able to create a cozy game made it so that he pushed himself over his limit, often sleeping on his friend’s couch after working until four a.m. and getting through the next day on excessive amounts of coffee.

That was how you two came up with the idea of Minho dropping by the café where you work to pick up coffee for him and his friends. He would drop by at least twice every day, his friend’s house — which also served as their office — only one bus stop away.

The first time Minho came by, he had his wallet and phone in one hand, a sharpie and a block of sticky notes in the other. You eyed him curiously as he scribbled on the piece of paper while your co-worker prepared his coffee. When he was done, he stuck the note to the monitor in front of you on the counter. You furrowed your brows as your eyes shifted from the Japanese words on the bright yellow note back to Minho’s smug face. You were certainly grateful he at least had the courtesy of including the romanization of whatever he had written down. Not that it helped you in any way.

“Since our studying sessions after class were rudely taken from us, this is your extra homework. It’s all words we already learned. You just gotta think a little bit, and you’ll figure it out. You’re smart, I know you can do it,” He assured you.

Expect you weren’t that smart and ended up giving up by the time you got home that night. The piece of paper was no longer sticky on the border due to you carrying it around all day, boring holes into it as if that would magically give you the answer. You snapped a picture of it as you got ready for bed and sent it to Minho, begging him to put you out of your misery and simply give you the answer. ‘I want to drink coffee,’ he replied. You slapped your hand over your forehead with so much force you were sure the entire house had heard you. He was right; you did learn that in class. Curse the Japanese language for being so difficult.

After that, it became a routine. You waited expectantly for Minho’s visits daily, but you are extra excited today. It’s a Friday, and your birthday is tomorrow. After much pestering from Eunha, you agreed to have a small gathering at your house. It only made sense to invite Minho; he’s become one of your closest friends in the two months you’ve known him, after all.

As he walks into the coffee shop, sticky notes and sharpie in hand, you chuckle to yourself. You two chat about the development of his game, with Minho kindly using layman’s terms when explaining it to you. He also tells you about how one of his friends got so frustrated with a code that he threw his phone at a wall before immediately regretting it and crying on the floor next to Minho’s desk. Before you can get worried, he assures you that it’s just an ordinary day at the office, and the three of them end up laughing everything off at the end of the day.

After taking his order, you watch as he begins writing down your homework for the day on the small piece of paper in his hand. As you look around the coffee shop, most tables are empty, and the sun is starting to set outside the glass doors.

“You wanna come over this Saturday?” You ask Minho, who looks up at you before adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose. That was one thing you learned about Minho since he began coming over: he wears glasses. Not every day, but enough times for you to notice how good he looks with them. But friends find each other attractive all the time, you justify it. “You never came over to my house, and my roommates really want to meet you. Plus, it’s my birthday tomorrow.”

Minho’s eyes widen. “Your birthday? And you save that information to the end?”

“It’s not a big deal. I usually never even celebrate.” You shrug lightly. You’ve never been big on birthdays, as you just don’t see the reason why it’s supposed to feel different from any other day of the year. “But my roommate pestered me to do something this year, so I agreed to have a party.”

Minho shifts on his feet. “I… really hate parties…” He trails off.

“It’s not a party party. I promise!” You hold up your pinky finger. “It’s more of a get-together, just my roommates and my only two other friends. And, you…” You trail off, “If you come.”

Minho blinks his eyes a couple of times before tearing the piece of paper he was writing on from the pad and crumpling it in his hand. He quickly jots down something new and sticks it to your forehead.

“Minho!” You scold him, to which he laughs, his nose scrunching and eyes crinkling. You advert your gaze from him as your persistent thoughts regarding how unfairly pretty Minho is begin to flood your brain once again. You take the note and analyze it:

はい (Hai)

You smile as you understand the word, looking up at him.

“I’d love to come to your birthday party,” He beams. “Thank you for inviting me.”

To say Minho is nervous would be an understatement.

He gets out of his car twice, ready to march back inside his friend’s apartment like a coward and pretend that nothing happened both times. Only when he thinks back to how you smiled at him when he agreed to your invitation does he find the courage to start the car and drive to your house. He’d noticed for a while now how much he likes you. But it was when he agreed with the idea of going to the café you worked at to pick up coffee that it truly dawned on him that he really liked you. Minho hated taking the bus, he hated doing anything other than zoning out on the couch during his breaks, he hated bustling shops, and he hated how his co-workers both managed to have such intricate coffee orders.

Yet he agreed to that idea, even suggesting he drop by two times a day.

He noticed he’d felt a familiar small whirlpool inside his chest whenever he was with you, when he heard you talk about something you liked or saw you smile. He’s also noticed that this tiny whirlpool has been growing bigger and bigger the more he’s been around you.

But that doesn’t scare him. Minho loves love. He loves to be in love, to love someone, and to make that person feel loved. It’s his favorite thing about life. If he was honest, he missed it so much he didn’t know how he was able to live without it.

Just down the block from your house, he parks his car and gathers his phone and his present for you — clearly clumsily wrapped, even with his co-workers’ help. He feels another wave of nervousness wash over him as he approaches the house; he’s an hour late and needs to mentally prepare to socialize with people he’s never met before. Minho chuckles as he realizes a silly party makes him more nervous than the prospect of possibly falling in love.

You open the door almost as soon as he rings the intercom, and he walks down the hallway into your house door; the crooked box he’s been holding makes his hands sweat. The first thing he notices as you open the door is your styled hair with a big white bow on the back, looking much prettier than the ugly bow he and his friends managed to stick on top of his present. He smiles at the sight and scratches his ear in a futile attempt to stop them from turning red.

God, he really liked you, didn’t he?

“Thank you for coming,” you tell him with a smile. Minho notices the quiet music playing inside the house, the simple decorations, and the cake on top of the kitchen counter. He mentally sighs in relief. This truly wasn’t anything like a big party. “You’re wearing your glasses again,” you point out as Minho walks inside and removes his shoes. He subconsciously reaches his left hand to touch his wire-rimmed glasses that sit on his nose bridge. He grimaces and curses at his friend for making him stay later than he was supposed to today.

“I had no time to go home and change,” He apologizes, fingers now toying with the stupid bow on top of the box. “I usually wear contacts, but they make my eyes dry if I stare at the computer for too long, so I just… wear my glasses at work…” Minho trails off, suddenly feeling stupid, his eyes looking anywhere but toward you.

You chuckle, lightly touching his glasses for a second before moving away again. “You always come to the coffee shop wearing them, and I think you look really good,” you assured him. His eyes quickly met yours, only for you to advert your gaze this time. “You should wear them more often.”

Minho only hums, lightly nodding his head. He feels stupid all over again as the image of himself throwing his contact lenses down the drain crosses his mind.

Clearing his throat, he finally hands you your gift. You giggle at the mismatched wrapping paper and poor excuse of a bow, which makes Minho let out a chuckle and murmur an apology. You open the box, and your eyes light up when you spot the stuffed bunny you have been raving about since you two met. It was the only animal missing from your collection, but you couldn’t find the right time to save up money to buy it. Minho didn’t need to ask if you liked it as he watched your smile grow bigger as you looked at the brown bunny.

“Come, I gotta put him in my bed now,” you beamed and took Minho’s hand in yours, leading him to the living room. There, five people sat on the couch and on the floor. Minho furrows his brows as he takes in a head of light brown hair covered by a familiar beanie. “These are my friends. Eunha’s the girl with short hair on the floor, and Soojung’s the one with blonde hair next to her. They’re also my roommates,” You point at them as you speak. “That’s Jisung sitting next to Soojung; he’s also her boyfriend. And then Hyunjin, with the long hair, sitting next to Chan on the couch. Everyone, this is Minho from my Japanese class.”

With that, you pad off to your room with your bunny in tow. As Chan finally turns to look at Minho, his shocked expression mirrors his. They stare at each other for a while before Chan finally breaks the silence.

“What the fuck, that’s my co-worker.”

Minho narrows his eyes. “So this is why you had to leave an hour earlier today?”

As you come out of your room, you chuckle. “Chan is your co-worker?” You ask Minho, “I can’t believe this. He’s been our friend for longer than I’ve known you. He came like a package deal when Jisung began dating Soojung.”

“Damn, dude, you hate me so much you never talked about me to your friend?” Chan gasped, a hand over his heart. “I’m hurt.”

Minho rolls his eyes but is unable to stop a small grin from forming on his lips as the entire living room erupts in laughter. “Of course I talked about you. I talked about you and Seungmin all the time. It’s just I…” Minho shifts on his feet, shrugging. “I never said your names.”

More laughter seeps out of the group of people, including Chan, and Minho finds himself laughing along this time, shaking his head at his own stupidity.

He sits beside Chan on the couch while Hyunjin heads to the kitchen with you. He quickly asks him how he came to be friends with you in the first place. Chan explains that he’s been in a class with Jisung for almost two years, and the boy had always pestered him about ‘old people’ needing to hang out with people their age. That’s how he ended up meeting Soojung as soon as she became Jisung’s girlfriend. You and Eunha were an inevitable addition, seeing as you were not only roommates but also great friends.

You offer Minho a beer, which he declines. As much as he wanted to, no beer was worth having to take the bus back home. He silently sips his cola as he watches your group of friends chat. You end up sitting beside him on the couch, your friend Hyunjin to your right.

Minho finds that he missed getting together with people like this and didn’t even realize it. His only friends were left behind back at home, and although they were less than an hour away by bus, their busy lives prevented them from meeting in person. Minho’s favorite memories from his teenage years were having his friends over and just doing nothing for hours, talking about stupid shit until their stomachs hurt from laughing. Eating takeout on the couch with Chan and Seungmin after work came close, but they were always too tired and too stressed to entertain the idea of making jokes. Those were times when Minho realized he had really become an adult.

Jisung’s loud voice suddenly booms through the living room and startles an already drunk-looking Eunha, who murmurs something about the younger boy giving her a heart attack one day.

“I’m bored,” he grumbles, draping his body over Soojung. “Let’s play spin the bottle.”

Soojung rolls her eyes at him, flicking his forehead. “Are you a teenager?”

Jisung pouts, sitting up straight once more. “We’re in university. University students play this fucking game all the time,” he states matter-of-factly. “Don’t make me regret falling for an older woman.”

“Jisung, I’m only three years older than you, I’m not—”

“Don’t make me call you noona.”

Soojung inhales deeply before turning to face the people sitting on the couch, placing one of the empty beer bottles scattered around her feet on top of the coffee table. “Let’s play spin the bottle. But let’s do dares instead of kissing, that’s too boring.”

Jisung beams, cuddling close to her like a needy child. Minho chuckles at the sight.

Eunha scoots closer to the couple so the group is seated in a circle around the coffee table, half of them on the couch and half on the floor. Minho never had the chance to play spin the bottle, which seemed to be such a staple game of one’s teenage years. By the time his friends were off sneaking into clubs and drinking behind their parents’ backs, he was already in a committed relationship and well aware of the fact that he didn’t enjoy parties.

It seems silly, but he’s glad he won’t live past his youth without experiencing such a trivial thing.

Soojung spins the bottle, and the neck stops facing Chan while the bottom faces Jisung.

“Take your shirt off,” Jisung waves a finger at Chan, who looks somewhat disoriented. Minho chuckles under his breath just as you do the same. You two face each other and let out a hearty laugh, your arm coming to rest on his bicep before retrieving back to your lap faster than Minho hoped it would.

Soojung squishes Jisung’s cheeks and places a small kiss on his lips. “You’re such a fucking chaotic bisexual,” she giggles, “Y’know, Chan, Jisung has had the biggest crush on you since you two first met.”

Chan shakes his head with a stifled laugh and proceeds to remove his shirt, neatly placing it on his lap.

Jisung is next to spin the bottle, this time landing on Soojung, who you dare to show her most embarrassing text. After showing the group a string of texts showing raunchy screenshots of a manhwa she’d been reading at that time, all sent to one of her class group chats which included some professors, she lets out a heavy sigh and orders Eunha to spin the bottle before any questions can be asked.

This time, the neck faces you while the bottom faces Eunha herself. With a smile, the short-haired girl dares you to kiss Minho.

He feels his smile drop at the very second the words leave her lips. This was not what he had in mind for tonight.

“What?” You sputter, “Why?”

Eunha shrugs, adjusting herself so she’s seated upright and staring right at you. “Well, he’s the only one here who would be actually fun to see you kiss. Jisung and Soojung are okay with each other hooking up with other people, so that’s no fun,” she explains, using her fingers to list her reasons, “I’m not into girls, so that’s no fun for me. Hyunjin is too obvious. We all already know Chan, so it would also be boring. Minho is like fresh meat. That is fun.”

Minho’s brain begins finding a suitable excuse for why you two can’t kiss, because he’s certain you have no interest in doing it. Not only are you friends, but your reaction didn’t exactly exude excitement at the prospect of kissing him. Just as he’s ready to lie through his teeth, you turn to him and place your hand on his shoulder, a touch so soft he’s barely able to feel it through the fabric of his shirt.

“Is this okay with you?” You ask him, the tone of your voice so sweet Minho feels like it melts his every thought until his brain is nothing but a sugary pool filled with only you. So he nods because god, yes, this is okay with him.

You gingerly place your right hand on his cheek, bringing your faces closer until your lips press together. The whirlpool inside his chest spins fast, like a vortex dragging every sense of his body toward you and only you.

You remain still for a few seconds, Minho’s eyes opening slightly to search for any sign of regret on your face. Before he can even properly look at you, your lips begin to move against his — gently and carefully, like you’re not sure if this is what he wants. Minho deepens the kiss and hesitates three times before committing to placing his left hand on your waist. The giggles around the two of you nothing but a muffled murmur to him. He presses another kiss to your lips, his body shifting until he is all but caging you against the back of the couch. But just as he swipes his tongue across your bottom lip, you push him back with a smile, Minho chasing after your lips.

He blinks a couple of times, eyes zoning into your smudged red lipstick. He subconsciously bites his own bottom lip, wondering if any of the color transferred to him. The surrounding murmurs bring Minho back to the moment this time, awkwardly clearing his throat before lifting himself off of you and sitting upright on the couch. He tunes out every comment regarding the kiss to the best of his abilities, focusing his energy on slowing down his heart rate. When he catches you giggling while looking at him, your arm touching his bicep yet again, he nods, grabbing his cola bottle from the floor and taking a sip.

Minho can’t remember the last time kissing someone got him so worked up. He entered a long-term relationship at such a young age that he’s only now realizing how unaccustomed he is to kissing someone new, to the rush that comes with having your lips pressing against the ones of someone you like. It was exhilarating and a bit terrifying all at the same time. He was awkward, unsure where to put his hands, uncertain if you were enjoying yourself. He was also greedy, wanting the moment to last for much longer than it had.

This had cemented the fact that he does, in fact, really like you.

After kissing you, the whirlpool living in his heart had now fully transformed into a tiny hurricane — with great chances of growing even bigger.

Minho only notices the game has continued upon hearing your voice complaining beside him. He watches as Soojung shrugs.

“It’s the only thing I could think of, sorry.”

“But why?” Hyunjin asks, placing his cup on the coffee table. “It’s a stupid dare.”

The blonde girl scoffs. “No, it’s not. I’ve had to basically live with you two for the past year, and it’s common knowledge how easily you get a boner for her.”

“Not true,” Hyunjin retorts, although it sounds more like a question than an affirmation.

Eunha blurts out, “You once got a boner watching her stir a cake mix.”

Hyunjin opens and closes his mouth before groaning, pulling you into his lap by the waist. You apologize to him quietly, to which Hyunjin shakes his head with a small smile.

Minho feels as if he’s intruding on something private.

You sit on Hyunjin’s knees, almost falling off his lap as you clearly try to keep some distance between the two of you. Hyunjin clicks his tongue and pulls you closer to him until your back is pressed up against his chest. He whispers something in your ear, to which you lightly slap his arm as his lips upturn into a grin.

Minho is definitely intruding on something private.

At some point, you turn so you’re sitting across Hyunjin’s lap, your body now facing Minho. He can’t help but watch with dark eyes as the younger boy’s hands wander through your body; playing with the buttons on your blouse, squeezing your thighs, and caressing your skin a little too close to the hem of your skirt. He furrows his brows as he tries to understand your relationship with Hyunjin, seeing as you’re obviously not put off by his hands on your body.

Minho is so transfixed by the sight and his racing thoughts that he only realizes the game has ended when someone taps his shoulder from behind the couch. When he looks back, Chan is holding a cigarette and motioning towards the stairs that lead to the house’s terrace.

In the chilly open space above the house, they sit on a bench behind a tall vertical planter. Minho wonders who tends to the garden as he observes the various flowers, as well as some vegetables and herbs scattered around him. The terrace is small; the garden taking up all the space, an old wooden railing that overlooks the quiet street the only other thing in his sight.

He and Chan chat about school and work, as they often do nowadays. After Chan recently broke up with his girlfriend, Minho found that his friend had become much more closed off, so the list of subjects they would talk about became minimal. Chan bites his thumb before taking a long drag of his cigarette. He chuckles when he mentions being scared of graduating next year. Minho bumps his shoulder with him, arguing that being in his situation is worse. He admits that he regrets starting university late and that being in his first year when he should already be in his third is discouraging. Chan dismisses his worries, reminding him of how Minho is often the one to fix broken codes and come up with ideas for their game whenever Seungmin gets stuck.

“A degree is just a piece of paper,” Chan says, throwing his cigarette butt at a nearby trashcan. “You’re already a fantastic programmer, Minho.”

“You’re just saying that because I saved your ass today.”

Chan shrugs. “You’ve saved my ass basically every day since we started working together.” After a beat of silence, he asks, “Why did you start uni so late, anyway? You never told me.”

Minho hums, digging his brain for a way to sum up the entire story. “It’s complicated—”

He’s interrupted by footsteps on the stairs leading to the terrace. A loud giggle echoes through the open space before you and Hyunjin step into their field of vision. The long-haired boy holds you from behind, and you two stagger toward the railing.

“Wish everyone would go home already so I could just fuck you,” Hyunjin whines as he turns your body around so you’re facing him. Minho almost chokes on nothing at those words, and Chan stifles a laugh with his hand. He curses the small space as they’re able to so clearly hear everything you’re saying.

You playfully kick Hyunjin’s shin. “Don’t say it like that, Hyune, what the fuck.”

“It’s true, though,” Hyunjin continues, pressing you against the railing. He towers over you, so the only thing Minho can see from where he’s seated is your white skirt floating in the wind behind the tall boy. “I had a stressful, terrible, awful, dreadful week. All I kept thinking about was coming over and relaxing with you.”

“See, when you put it like that, it doesn’t sound so awful.”

Hyunjin clicks his tongue. “There’s nothing awful about fucking. I know how much you like it, don’t act so coy.”

Minho watches as your hands clench around Hyunjin’s gray shirt, pulling him closer and kissing him softly, much like you had done to him a few moments before.

Minho presses his lips into a thin line. He connects every dot available to him inside his head and suddenly feels pathetic.

Hyunjin being too obvious of a choice for you to kiss, his hands all over your body, his words about fucking you, the way you kissed him like it was a habit.

If you had a boyfriend, why did you agree to kiss him?

The words swarm Minho’s brain. He vaguely recalls you and Hyunjin eventually walking out of the terrace. Chan starts a one-sided conversation about one of his classes, with Minho humming after every couple of sentences to appear like he’d been listening when his head is too busy wondering how to feel about everything.

Minho recalls Eunha walking up the stairs and shouting for the two of them to come downstairs to sing you happy birthday. He recalls Hyunjin’s hands wandering through your body throughout the song, his lips pressing small kisses on your face and lips as you smiled. He recalls feeling confused, stressed, jealous, and pathetic.

Minho is only truly back to the present moment once Chan’s voice bids him a loud goodbye, and the door slamming behind him makes his senses finally return to him. As he looks around, he notices that the only people left in the living room are Jisung, Hyunjin, and you. Beside him on the couch, Hyunjin stretches with a loud groan.

“I’m gonna take a shower. D’you have any of my clothes in your room?”

You sigh from where you’re sitting on the floor, resting against the television stand. “Of course, I do. You’re always living shit behind, you’re like our third roommate at this point.”

Hyunjin chuckles, walking over to give you a small peck on the lips before disappearing into your room. Minho gnaws on his bottom lip with a bitter smile as he realizes Hyunjin will sleep over at your house. The ugly feelings return as he remembers his thoughts about you these past few weeks when he unknowingly cultivated too big of a crush on you. Even on his way here tonight, when he had chuckled to himself at his lack of nervousness in the face of potential love.

Love.

Minho can’t help but wonder why your view of love is so negative when you’re in a relationship. And, at the same time, he doesn’t dare to think about it for too long, fully aware that his foolish affection-filled brain will come up with a myriad of reasons — all where your boyfriend is the sole culprit for your distaste — and Minho knows better than to let those thoughts linger for too long inside his mind. He knows himself all too well, knows only awful shit would come out of assuming things about your relationship; the urge to beat Hyunjin senseless for being a shitty boyfriend and making you think that way about love being the worst of them.

“I’m too drunk to go back to my dorm,” Jisung suddenly speaks, his eyes glazed over as he stares ahead. “Gonna crash here tonight, too.”

Minho takes that as his cue to leave.

You walk him outside, a small smile on your face the entire time. He feels guilty not being able to reciprocate the gesture. As you tell him goodbye, thanking him for coming, you pull him into a hug. You hadn’t hugged much since you met, and Minho foolishly wants to draw you closer to him, to feel your body pressed against his just as it was pressed against Hyunjin most of the night. But he can’t do that.

“Are you okay to walk back by yourself?” You ask him as you pull away.

Minho nods, forcing out a small smile. “My car is parked just down the block.”

“That’s why you didn’t drink!” You exclaim with a giggle, “I forget that most people our age already drive. My anxiety didn’t allow me the chance to even try and get a license, so I just accepted my fate of taking the bus.”

“I could drive you…” Minho trails off. There he goes again, being pathetic. “If I have the time… You can give me a call and I’d be happy to drive you anywhere.”

You smile at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into another embrace. Minho smiles genuinely as he buries his head in your hair.

The drive back home has Minho feeling stupid all over again as he thinks about how you’re probably in bed with Hyunjin by now. The whirlpool is back inside his chest, but it isn’t good or welcome this time. It’s agonizing and painful.

Love had never been painful. Love had never been bad.

But he had never experienced love toward someone who already loved somebody else. Although you brazenly state that you don’t believe in it, you must feel some type of love toward Hyunjin if you’re willing to be his girlfriend.

As he silently drives home, Minho finds himself agreeing with you.

Maybe love can be bad, after all.

Minho feels stupid.

This has become a constant in his life.

He had always thought of himself as a logical person. Programming had taught him that everything is predictable and fixable if you work on it hard enough. A broken code? It may take him six hours of staring at the computer to figure out it was nothing but a missing semicolon, but he will get there in the end. It was annoying and frustrating, but it was always something easily fixed.

He thought love was like that. It had always been like that with him.

Until he fell for you.

Minho was coming to terms with the fact that maybe love and programming were nothing alike. Love isn’t predictable. Loving someone who is already in love with someone else isn’t easily fixed. He can’t backspace and delete your boyfriend from the equation.

It’s been a little over six months since you two first met. Minho has consistently gone to the café you work at every day, and you two still had endless talks over text messages. You talk about everything and anything, from silly things like sharing pictures of both your growing plushie collections or your love of that particular coffee shop’s lemon cake to more serious topics like how Minho learned how to cook when he was twelve so his mom wouldn’t have to do it by herself, and now his roommates take advantage of that, or how sad you are that next year you will have to leave the house you’ve grown to love so much.

But, whether it is in person or through text, you still avoid the topic of love. You don’t ever bring up Hyunjin unless he’s part of a story you were already telling, and Minho feels his heart heavy as he slowly allows himself to imagine what it could be that led you to hate love so much.

He desperately wants to ask you, know your reasons, and make sure you’re happy with your boyfriend. But he doesn’t want to overstep any boundaries and doesn’t know how to go about it without scaring you. So he never does anything, like a coward.

Minho finds himself coming over to your sharehouse on most weekends since summer break ended. Your countless get-togethers at that house have become a hard-to-break habit. Hyunjin, Jisung, and your roommates are always assured to be there, with Chan joining whenever he isn’t overwhelmed with work or school, which was rare.

Minho had always been a hopeless romantic, always doing things for love that people repeatedly warned would result in regret. This time, it was forgoing visiting his parents and friends back home just to spend most of his summer with you. Despite not being able to pursue you in the way he truly wanted to, Minho still wanted to be your friend. You were still a fantastic person he loved to have around; that didn’t change simply because you had a boyfriend. Although he could feel a bit of his heart cracking every time he had to see you, all while knowing he couldn’t do anything about his feelings for you.

He couldn’t change your perspective of love if he weren’t allowed to love you.

In all the time he spent at your house during summer break, he ended up becoming good friends with Jisung, as you tended to stick next to Hyunjin most of the time. Minho didn’t mind it; he is your boyfriend, after all. At least, that’s what he repeats to himself every night he comes over like a mantra as he almost masochistically forces himself to watch how Hyunjin kisses your lips and caresses your skin or how you play with his hair and snuggle with him on the couch. He also endures the countless nights he’s left your house knowing all too well that Hyunjin would be spending the night with you in a way that Minho can only ever dream about.

Tonight, in particular, Hyunjin seemed to be all over you like bees on honey, buzzing around you everywhere you went, his hands never leaving your body as he pulled you closer to him every time you even slightly pulled away. Because god forbid your bodies not be touching in some way for even a split second. Before he knows it, Minho is downing his third bottle of beer of the night.

From where he’s sitting on the couch, Minho rolls his eyes as discreetly as he can while he watches Hyunjin pull you to sit on his lap on the floor as you all get ready to play a game of cards. He gnaws on his lower lip because he knows he’s being petty and borderline childish. You’re Hyunjin’s girlfriend. Of course he’s all over you, of course he wants to be close to you, of course he wants you on his lap. Minho concludes with a bitter chuckle that he is, indeed, pathetic when it comes to you.

He gulps down more of the awful-tasting cheap beer.

The night comes to a close after far too many rounds of Cards Against Humanity, with Jisung winning more than half of them. His ethics and morals fly out the window the moment the cards are handed to him, as he manages to create the most absurdly offensive phrases known to men every single time. Minho found himself groaning and yelling at the younger boy as the alcohol took over his system. He doesn’t know how much of it was simply his annoyance at Hyunjin clinging to you like a koala throughout the entire game disguised as competitiveness.

He doesn’t think he’d like to know either.

Like every night he comes over, Minho is the last person to go home. He has to call an Uber, far too buzzed to want to sit at a bus stop all alone at this time of night. He hadn’t even noticed how he kept downing his drinks until he felt the familiar buzz of inebriation wash over his body a while before the game ended. Although slamming his fist into the coffee table with a whine about how he had only been given lame cards should’ve been a sign.

As he waits outside your house by the fence, he suddenly hears the door shut behind him and your voice calling out to him. He smiles at the faint slur of your speech and the way you drag out the last syllable of his name like you always did when you were a bit drunk.

“I told you to wait for me!” You reprimand, opening the gate to stand next to him. “Look how lonely you look here all by yourself.”

Minho just shrugs with a smile, shaking his head. He did wait. He waited almost half an hour after announcing he should leave as you disappeared into your room with Hyunjin. He was still waiting, in fact, only mindlessly scrolling on his phone for the past ten minutes instead of finding a ride as he hoped you would come outside when you saw he wasn’t in the living room anymore.

You poke his shoulder, bringing his attention away from his phone to your smiling face.

“Tonight was fun, wasn’t it? Especially that last round when Hyunjin won after being tied with Jisung for the whole game,” you grinned, “Seeing Jisung make a whole damn case about how much better his card was really made my night. Think that’s the first time I’ve seen him act like a law student since I met him.”

Minho chuckles, bringing his attention back to his phone. Seeing your smile and how your eyes light up while you talk about something you like brought back the whirlpool inside his chest, which wasn’t a pleasant feeling any longer. It made him glum to think how a once beautiful feeling had turned into nothing but discomfort simply because he was lovelorn.

He hums. “You must be proud to have your boyfriend put an end to Jisung’s annoying winning streak.”

“What do you mean?”

Minho looks up from his phone, eyes wandering through your puzzled face. He furrows his brows for a second. Maybe you’re both drunker than he’d thought.

“I mean, it must’ve been nice to see Hyunjin win after Jisung basically made us all want to quit the game,” he explains, watching as your expression turns from confusion into shock before you let out a loud laugh.

Minho’s eyes widen, worried your laughter might wake up your neighbors. He gently shushes you, his arm grabbing your shoulder, but your smiling face only makes his lips stretch out into a grin. He suppresses a giggle as you catch your breath, shaking your head.

Minho smiles at you so fondly he’s certain he looks like an idiot. “What’s so funny?”

“Hyunjin isn’t my boyfriend,” you explain like it’s obvious. “We’re just friends. I thought you knew that.”

Minho only then realizes he had never once heard you refer to Hyunjin as a boyfriend, nor had any of the people around you. But his assumptions weren’t so ill-judged, either. You two acted like a couple. It wasn’t so absurd to assume that you were one.

He finds himself staring at your amused face for a few seconds before forcing himself to turn his attention back to his phone.

You acted like a couple, but you were just friends. Minho groaned mentally.

“So, you’re like friends with benefits?”

“Yeah… I don’t particularly believe in love anymore, Minho. I thought you knew that from our talk a while ago,” You chuckle, shifting on your feet. “Hyunjin is one of my best friends. We just hook up ‘cause it’s convenient.”

Minho hums, his fingers ghosting over his phone screen. “Sounds like you’re running away from love.”

He blinks a couple of times as he takes in his own words. He would have never said such a thing if it hadn’t been for the liquid courage flowing through his veins.

You shrug, moving to sit on the white bench just outside the house. “Well, yeah, that is what I’m doing. Love hasn’t been kind to me at all. I have no interest in going after it, only to be hurt again. It’s a movie I’ve watched before and I hated the ending every time.”

Minho bites the inside of his cheek, finally clicking the button to find a ride, his thumb pressing on his phone screen more forcefully than he intended. He felt angry. You didn’t deserve to settle for a friend with benefits due to convenience. Had you wanted to be in that situation, it was your every right to do so, but you were in it out of fear of being hurt.

He felt sad. He wished you didn’t equate your past experiences with love to everything it could be. Bad experiences in love were possible for everyone — even for him, who used to believe unwaveringly that love could never be hurtful — but that didn’t mean it was all there was to it. Minho desperately wanted to show you that. The good side of love, the side that made him put it above everything else in his life on so many occasions, the side that made him crave it even now when it hurt more than it felt good.

And, strangely, Minho felt relieved. It was a small percentage of the chart of current emotions he was experiencing, but prevalent nonetheless. He would be lying to himself if he didn’t admit that he felt happy Hyunjin wasn’t your boyfriend and, most importantly, that you weren’t stuck in an unhappy or toxic relationship, as he had so often feared.

His ride arrives, and he’s overcome with a wave of courage. Minho would much rather live with regret than with a constant ‘what if’.

Shoving his phone inside his pocket, he offers his hand to you, who looks up at him curiously from where you’re sitting on the bench before taking his hand. Minho pulls you to your feet and hugs you. With his hand on your waist, he pulls your body closer to him, finally holding you tightly the way he’s always wanted to do. He presses a kiss to your head, bringing his lips to your ear and whispering, “I’m gonna change your mind.”

He feels your body shake with a chuckle, but he only tightens his hold on you.

“What?”

“About love, I’m gonna change your mind,” He answers matter-of-factly, “You deserve to feel love without being afraid.”

Minho pulls back from the embrace just enough to see your face, and he’s surprised to find you smiling up at him. He smiles back.

“I will change your mind.”

Minho had just dropped you off at your house, ready to drive around aimlessly until he absolutely had to go back to his dorm, when Seungmin texted him.

Kim Seungmin: hey my sister’s engagement dinner is tonight Kim Seungmin: and i might have fucked up something in the code i was working on so now there’s a chance that you fish 100 rare fish at once 🤪 Kim Seungmin: pls pls do me a solid and fix it before chan sees it and kills me? Kim Seungmin: love you hyung 💚

Minho initially groaned at the messages, thinking of the many ways in which he could murder Seungmin and get away with it. But, ultimately, he didn’t want to go back to his dorm anyway, so he gladly turned his car around. If he was lucky, this would take hours and he would have a valid excuse to crash in Chan’s cramped living room.

He punches the code to the front door and his friend greets him with a puzzled expression.

“I forgot to do the, uh, troubleshooting for this week,” Minho blurts out. It’s the first lie he can come up with, and he hopes it’s convincing enough. Chan nods slowly. Seungmin might have saved him from having to endure his roommates on a Saturday night, but he still owes him.

“It’s all good,” Chan says with a sigh, “I’m most likely gonna pull an all-nighter designing these new characters. Anyway, how did you waste your time today?”

Minho has been taking you on what he likes to call Subtle Dates for a month now.

Chan affectionately calls them Waste of Time Dates.

Minho rolls his eyes, sitting down on his own desk. “We went to Han River and walked around till sundown, then watched the Banpo Bridge water show.”

Days like today were rare, so Minho was happy. Most weekends, it seemed as if the whole world was conspiring against anything he planned with you.

“Oh, how romantic of you,” Chan gasps, feigning amazement. “Did you at least kiss her this time?”

“You know I can’t just kiss her like that. I know she’d freak out if I tried to do anything romantic with her,” Minho taps his fingers on his desk, knowing he sounds ridiculous. But he has a plan. He just hopes this plan actually works out soon. “I don’t mind being patient.”

He hears Chan scoff. “So, you took her on another one-sided date and then drove her home so Hyunjin can fuck her?”

Minho’s fingers stop tapping on his desk, his hand coming down to slam on it before he can stop himself. He lets out a heavy sigh, and Chan mumbles an apology. But, the truth is, he knows his friend is right. Just last weekend, Minho dropped you off straight into Hyunjin’s arms, the younger boy waiting for you to come back in front of your house.

And Hyunjin wasn’t the only inconvenience that rendered it almost impossible for the two of you to spend time together. Minho had to cut most of your dates short due to Chan calling him about something urgent that only he could fix at work, or you canceled altogether because your roommate was upset and you didn’t have the heart to leave her alone like that. There were also times when Minho was too tired to even go out at all, like on the day of his birthday, which resulted in you coming over to Chan’s apartment and eating cheap takeout food with him and his two friends.

Minho found himself dealing with countless bumps in the road when it came to finding a way into your heart.

“I didn’t mean to say it like that,” Chan says hesitantly, “You clearly like her a lot.”

Minho repeatedly opens and closes the code he’s supposed to fix. He sighs. “I like her more than a lot, and I don’t even know when that happened.”

“I don’t want to see you get hurt,” His friend explains, his face disappearing behind his own computer screen. “I just can’t see what will change if you go on dates with her when she doesn’t even know they’re dates and if she’s just gonna go home and have sex with someone else. I don’t get it. What difference does it make?”

He can hear Chan scoffing, although he tries to disguise it by clearing his throat. Minho shakes his head.

“It makes all the difference because that’s not love. I wanna show her what love is, and that it isn’t always bad. I promised her that I would.”

Chan sighs, sliding his chair toward the mini-fridge by the couch. “Agree to disagree?” He asks, grabbing a bottle of water and tossing it in Minho’s direction. He grabs it mid-air, just before it hits him in the face, and clicks his tongue.

“Agree to disagree.”

Minho plugs his headphones into the computer, drowning out the noise of Chan’s pen sliding across his iPad with his brown noise playlist. But he can’t drown out the obstinate thought ringing inside his head, screaming at him that Chan is right.

Taking you out on dates — which you don’t even know are dates — doesn’t really make a difference if you’re just going to go back to your convenience with Hyunjin at the end of the day. If you think you’re just friends going out together, and you go back home at night to the comfort of sex without the love you’ve been running away from for so long, what Minho is doing truly is useless.

It’s just like when he argues with Seungmin through their codes, screaming at the younger boy in all caps about something that’s broken, even though he knows he’s going to be the one who will end up having to fix it.

Minho’s fingers come to a halt on the keyboard.

Closing his work, he opens up Google and finds the first flight he can to Japan. Almost as if he’s on autopilot, and his brain is completely shut off. He books the flight and the cheapest hotel he can find, using almost all the money he’s saved up to move out of his hell of a dorm. It might be the most idiotic thing he has ever done in his life, but he’s so in love it hurts him. And he loves love, and love with you — the thought of that alone has his heart beating at his throat. He doesn’t want to keep on with these futile attempts at trying to make you see that love is good and that, maybe, love can be good with him.

The truth is, he feels scared. Maybe even more scared than you do. He is terrified of knowing the answer, of finding out that maybe he could change your mind about love but that it would simply lead you to someone else’s arms and he would have to endure the pain of unrequited love until it inevitably faded away with time.

Minho would gladly live with that pain if it meant you were happy.

But he needed to know.

He adjusted his glasses — a childhood nervous habit that returned after he started wearing them more often since you complimented him months ago — and retrieved his phone from his backpack.

He typed and deleted more times than he’d like to admit.

Me: Hey, it’s late sorry Me: Just wanted to know if you’d be up for a trip to Japan? Me: In two weeks Me: For study purposes Me: We’d finally have the chance to use what we learned in class lol Me: Chan was supposed to go with me but he has a family thing so he can’t anymore Me: Everything’s already paid for and he said he doesn’t mind if you go in his place Me: Lmk what you think

Minho’s fingers typed as his brain came up with excuses and lies, sending more messages than he needed to. He couldn’t tell you he booked a whole damn trip with you just to see if maybe, possibly, you have feelings for him too.

He all but throws his phone across his table after turning on Do Not Disturb. He’ll need to muster up the courage before reading your answer, and having his phone buzz for anything that wasn’t your reply would just be torturous. He felt stupid, would feel even more so if you turned down his invitation. He almost doesn’t want you to answer, wants to pretend he never even sent anything.

Because it was stupid.

But love is stupid, and he is in love.

Worst-case scenario, he’s stuck with Chan in Japan for a weekend while he laughs at him.

Best-case scenario, he spends a weekend with you in Japan. No letting you go back to another man at the end of the day, no more hiding that he is taking you out on dates, no more distractions, no more inconveniences of your daily lives.

Minho opens the code he was working on again, quickly typing out:

// NOTE: Minho will fix this.

876 notes · View notes

feelbokkie · 10 months

Text

BF!SKZ Jokes About Your Insecurity Accidentally

☀️Feelbokkie M.list☀️

**Requested**

Hello! I just got idea before i forget i will send it😅

Like you are joking around and this members is kind of said things that hurts you and you kind of give them silent treatment

Like in a angst but fluff way but kind of funny feelings?😅😅

genre: fluff, slight angst

pov: 2nd person

description: Bf!skz accidentally touches on one of your insecurities without even realizing it.

pairing: bf!skz x reader

warnings: (Specific scenarios listed under each member so check those), swearing

word count: (listed below for each member) (unedited)

방 찬 (Bang Chan) (340 words)

You're a bit weird

"You're so weird." Chan chuckles.

Your smile drops as you stare at your boyfriend. You had gone shopping earlier with one of your friends and bought one of those inflatable alien abducting a human costumes. You put it on immediate when you got home to show Chan, even pretended you were getting abducted.

You quietly leave the room and slowly start deflating the costume. Growing up, your classmates would pick on you for being “weird.” You hate anything that would make you seem weird and often held yourself back from Chan so he wouldn't regret dating you. You didn't think the costume was weird at first, you thought it was funny and that he would get a kick out of it, not call you weird.

"Hey, why are you putting it away already? Bored?" Chan followed you out of the room when he saw your face and your head drop.

You continue to take the costume off, your back turned to him so he can't see that you're on the verge of tears.

"Y/n?" He steps closer and softly places a hand on your shoulder.

"You're right, it's weird. I'm weird, I'll return it." You sniffle as you pull your leg out of the costume.

"I didn't mean it like that. I meant that you're weird in a cute way. Why are you upset? Talk to me,"

"You calling me weird just brought up some shit. But you're right." You start rolling up the costume, attempting to get all of the air out.

"Hey, if you're weird I'm a fucking alien. Have you seen the thing I do with my arms? Class A weirdo behavior right there." He turns you towards him so he can look you in the eyes. His heart sinks to the pit of his stomach when he sees you've been crying.

"But--"

"You are not weird and I don't like you any less for your quirkiness. Now put the costume back on an let's go to the dorm. The kids are going to love it."

이 민 호 (Lee Min-Ho) (617 words)

You talk a lot when you're excited

"...and so the milkman kissed Goofy, thinking that he was his wife meaning that Goofy's wife was cheating on him while he was at work and since we have no explanation as to what really happened to the wife or any other member of Goofy's family, I think he offed the wife, took Max, dyed his hair, and ran and it totally makes sense because in the Goofy movie--"

"Breathe, Y/n." Minho places a hand on your knee.

You, for some reason, found yourself going down the rabbit hole of what happened to Goofy's wife. Immersing yourself in the lore of it all, you needed to tell someone. Unfortunately for him, your boyfriend Minho was home. He sat with you while you calmly told him the background information and went on to explain all of the theories with all of the concrete evidence you found. You had been talking non-stop for at least 15 minutes before Minho said anything.

"I was rambling again, huh?" You say sheepishly, rubbing the back of your head

"You just talk a lot."

"Oh," Your heart drops down to the pit of your stomach.

You know that you have a tendency to talk a lot, so many people have let you know over the years. You know that it could be a problem for some people. But it’s never been a problem for Minho, or at least he never let on that it’s been a problem. Normally people tell you that you talk a lot to signal that you’re being annoying. He just called you annoying.

“You can continue, what happened with the Goofy movie?” He asks, rubbing his hand on your knee.

“Lost my train of thought.” You mumble, looking at your hands and fiddling your thumbs.

“Hmm. Okay, well come find me when you find it again.” You hum in response.

***

You and Minho sit at the dinner table quietly eating. By now, Minho realized something was up with you. You had spent the rest of the day not talking to him and if you did you would either give short answers or make a noise. But now you were completely silent while eating. He knows you hate eating in silence and often filled the void with small talk or some sort of animated story.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, setting down his fork and leaning in.

“Nothing,” you refused to look up. It’s killing you to eat in silence but you don’t want to annoy him further.

“Y/n, I know something is wrong. You haven't said anything since this morning." He reaches for your hand and you pull away. A hurt look flashes across his face.

"I don't want to be annoying." You mumble. Minho blinks at you in confusion.

"What are you talking about?"

You go back to solely focusing on your food, leaving the room to fall in silence. Minho stares at you, wracking his brain to figure out what's wrong with you since he's clearly done something to upset you.

"Is this because I said you were talking too much this morning?" He asks, finally figuring something out.

"You said, and I quote, 'You just talk a lot.' Meaning I talk too much and you find me annoying."

"I didn't mean it like that. Y/n, I misspoke. I love when you talk. I love listening to your theories and stories. Honest. I could never find you annoying. Sure, you get on my nerves sometimes, but never annoying." Minho gets up from his seat and crouches down next to you.

"Are you sure because--"

"I'm 1,000% sure. Now come on, let's finish eating and you can tell me all about the mystery of Goofy's wife."

서 창 빈 (Seo Chang-Bin) (817 words)

You have a chubby stomach

You were listening to music on your phone when Changbin stumbled into your bed room. It was well past 1 in the morning and you know that he had been busy promoting a new comeback. He had the day off tomorrow but you always tell him to just sleep at the dorm when He works late so he can go to bed sooner. He never listens. You watch as he drops his bag in it's designated corner and crawls in between you legs. He lays his head on your stomach and wraps his arms around your waist.

"Baby, why don't you go take a hot shower? Your muscles must be sore." You run your hand through this soft hair.

"I'm fine. Just wanna sleep right here." He mumbles into your stomach.

"At the very least change into something more comfortable to sleep in." You tug at his shirt.

"But I'm so comfortable. You're so soft and squishy. Like...like the pillsbury doughboy." Your hair freezes in his hair.

That comment should make you laugh. In fact, you're almost certain he said it to just that. Or he's so tired that he's speaking unfiltered. But the fact that he said that while he was laying on your stomach made you feel sick.

"Bin, get up," You tap his back to wake him up.

"No," He groans.

"Changbin, I need to use the bathroom." You lie, hoping to get him move off of you.

He groans again before rolling off of you and into his normal spot on the bed, fast asleep. You quietly make your way to the living room where you plan to spend the night sleeping on the couch.

***

When you wake up, a thick blanket is covering you and Changbin is fast asleep on the floor next to you. You carefully crawl over him, as to not wake him up, and head to the kitchen to make yourself a cup of coffee. You sit in silence, replaying what Changbin said last night repeatedly in your mind.

"Why did you sleep on the couch last night?" Changbin walks into the kitchen rubbing his eyes.

He must have sensed that you weren't near him. You knew you didn't wake him up when you walked past him earlier and you weren't being loud right now either. He almost always wakes up when you're suddenly not near him anymore. It was kind of cute.

You continue to make your coffee, refusing to acknowledge him. You feel bad for blaming him. You're almost certain that he didn't mean to say what he did when he called you soft and squishy. But if he said that when his brain was too tired to filter the words, then he's been thinking it for a while.

"Hello? Y/n, are you listening to me? Am I invisible?" He asks, walking up next to you.

You finish making your coffee and leave the kitchen. Changbin stands in confusion for a second. You pull out your phone and head to the couch.

"Hey! Why are you ignoring me?" Changbin yells, quickly getting more frustrated.

"I don't know, why don't you go and ask the pillsbury doughboy." You spit, not looking up from your phone.

"W-what? What are you talking about? Are you drunk?" He questions.

You sit in silence, going back to ignoring him. Changbin stands in the kitchen thinking about what could have possibly happened.

"Pills...pillsbury...doughboy...doughboy...dough...ah...aH AH! Wait," You hear him scramble out the kitchen and slide in front of you.

Your eyes meet his panicked ones. He realized what he said the night before, finally. He knows that you struggle with your weight and the last thing he ever wanted to do was to make up feel uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I promise. I was just really tired and that was my attempt at being funny." He says quickly.

"You called me soft and squishy," You grumble.

"I like soft and squishy! I'm soft and squishy. Look, poke me in the stomach," He quickly lifts up his shirt, exposing his stomach. He's purposely pushing his stomach out.

"Changbin--"

"Poke it, Y/n." He urges. You sigh and humor him by poking him right above his belly button. He immediately lets out the most high pitched giggle you've ever heard from him.

You can't help but laugh, doubling over in laughter. Which causes Changbin to laugh and then you to laugh even harder. You manage to put your coffee cup on the floor to avoid spilling it on the couch while you laugh.

"S-see. I'm a pillsbury doughboy. We can be soft and squishy together."

"Okay, B-bin." You wipe tears from your eyes and smile at Changbin.

"And if I ever hurt your feelings in the future, just tell me. How am I supposed to fix it if I don't know what's wrong?"

황 현 진 (Hwang Hyun-Jin) (366 words)

You're physically clingy

Hyunjin stares in shock when you moved away from him the second he tried to cuddle with you.

"What is this? Do you not love me anymore?" He cries.

"I'm just giving you space like you wanted," You whisper as you tighten the the blanket around yourself and squeeze the stuffed animal you are holding closer to your chest.

"When you did I ask you to give me space?" His eyes focus on you but he couldn't see your face. It's hidden behind the blanket and you're staring forward at the tv.

Earlier in the day you were feeling needier than usual and wanted nothing more than to cuddle with Hyunjin. You know he doesn’t like skinship unless he initiates it, but he let’s you get a pass on that rule. But, for whatever reason, Hyunjin snapped when you were trying to cuddle into him and asked you for some space and called you clingy. You went into the living room, grabbing a stuffed animal and blanket with you.

You had boyfriends in the past that broke up with you because you were too clingy. Its made you be overly cautious at the start of your relationship with Hyunjin but over time you grew more comfortable around him. Hearing him call you clingy earlier set you off worrying that he was going to leave you.

“Oh, this morning?” He asks softly when he sees a tear fall down your face. He gently wipes the tear with the pad of his thumb and stares at you with soft eyes.

“Yeah, when you called me clingy.” You whisper.

“I’m sorry for that. I didn’t mean—Ah, don’t cry more.” Hyunjin wraps you in a hug and strokes your back.

“S-sorry. I just don’t want you to leave me.” You sob.

“I’m not leaving you, I promise. I was just annoyed and needed a little bit of space. But I’m sorry I made you think that you were being annoying.”

“It’s o-okay. Just brought up some stuff.”

“To make up for it, we’re going to stay like this until you think I’m being clingy.”

“You’re going to be there forever then, Hyun.”

“If it’s you, I’m fine with that.”

한 지 성 (Han Ji-Sung) (420 words)

You can't sing

"Ah, my ears! I think they're bleeding." Jisung laughs.

You two were home all day and you suddenly started doing karaoke on your phone. You know you can’t sing, it’s a fact you’ve known about yourself your whole life. It’s the fact that your boyfriend, who has so much talent that you’re not even sure how there’s any left for the rest of the world, is the one who pointed it out.

Losing confidence, you finish the song quietly. Jisung thought that you were just tired from singing the ballad and quit halfway through.

"Let's do a duet," He says excitedly, taking your phone out of your hands to look for the next song.

"My throat hurts. I'm going to get some water. Why don't you do a solo?" You softly smile before getting up and heading to the kitchen.

***

"Why won't you sing with me?" Jisung whines from the floor. He had done about 5 more songs and after each one he asked you to sing with him.

"My throat still hurts, Ji." You lie.

Jisung stares at the ceiling for a few minutes before picking up your phone and choosing a new song. He quickly stands up and hands you one of the fake mics.

You watch in awe as Jisung purposely butchers the song and waits for you to join in. You can't help but laugh.

'What are you doing you can sing better than that" You giggle.

"I know I can but I need to match my Jagi's amazing abilities." He says, pushing the fake mic toward you again. You sigh and take the mic from him and humor him.

"See, you can still have fun even when you don't sound the best." Jisung adds.

"I never said it wasn’t fun.” You groan.

"Yeah, but I know it hurt your feelings when I pretended to hate your singing. I’m sorry by the way. I’m used to making those joke with the boys.”

“Don’t be sorry, it’s the truth.”

“It’s not the truth. You’re my favorite singer. Now please sing a duet with me and make my dreams come true.” Jisung pouts.

“You are so lying through your teeth right now, but I’ll humor you.” You roll your eyes and get off the couch. Jisung walks closer to you so you two can pick a song together.

“I really am sorry. You know I would never purposely hurt your feelings.”

“I know, Ji. And that’s one of the reasons why I love you. Now pick a song.”

이 용 복 (Lee Felix Yong-Bok) (434 words)

You're a bit dumb

"Shit!" Felix slams down the controller and places his head in his hand.

"Sorry, I was trying to get--" You try to explain as you watch his character die on screen. You were playing as healer and accidently put him in a position to die rather than heal him. That was his last life for this round, he'd have no choice but to spectate for the rest of the game.

"That was the dumbest shit you've ever done." He groans.

"Lix, I was trying--" You take your eyes off the screen and look at your boyfriend who was running his hands through his hair.

"Look out-- you've got to be joking. Are you stupid, why would you look away? Now the rest of the team is going to have to play without a healer for the rest of the round." You watch as Felix rest his head in his hands.

You get up and storm into the bedroom, no longer wanting to play games with him. You know he can get mad during games. It was cute and often you would just watch or sit with him while he played so you could watch him struggle. What you couldn't deal with, was him calling you stupid.

You know you're not dumb, but you also know that you're never the smartest person in the room and you're okay with that. You do dumb things and you're okay with that. But you've heard enough people insult you for your little slip ups and berate you by calling you dumb.

You hear the door creak as Felix pokes his head in. You roll your eyes and bury your face into the bed. You feel the bed dip down around you and Felix lay his entire body on top of yours. He fidgets a bit while he tries to worm his arms under you and hug you. He presses a kiss to the back of your neck before turning his head so he could lay down comfortable.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to call you stupid. I just got carried away while gaming.” He mumbles into your back.

“I know, but it still hurts.” You pout. You turn your head so you can get some air.

“I know. I promise to not do it again. How can I make it up to you? Kisses?” He asks, slight wiggling his fingers into your side.

“I think yes." You giggle, unable to resist his tickling.

"Really? How many?" He laughs.

"Hmm... five hundred?"

"Five hundred! Well, I guess I better get started now." Felix starts peppering your face with kisses.

김 승 민 (Kim Seung-Min) (822 words)

You're a bit immature

"Oh wow, Y/n, that was so mature." Seungmin says dryly walking into the room.

You giggle as you finish making breakfast for yourself. Last night you had the idea to mess with Seungmin's shampoo bottle and to rig the sink to spray him with water as a harmless prank. He's always pranking you and you finally had a way to get him back. You put a bit of plastic wrap between the bottle and the cap so none would come out. You thought it would be extra funny to do it to all the bottles in the bathroom. You heard him yell while you were cooking and laughed. And then you taped the faucet so that it would spray water on him when he went to brush his teeth. You know that the first thing he does when he wakes up is brush his teeth so only his pajamas would be wet.

Only, you didn't account for Seungmin waking up late. You only woke up because he started swearing loudly when he woke up. He has an important meeting and you felt a little bad, but by the time you realized he was already in the bathroom and locked the door. So, you went ahead and made something that he could eat on the way since he wouldn't have much time to sit and eat and slipped it in his bag.

"I'm sorry Minnie, I couldn't help it. It was really funny." You giggle again.

"You really need to grow the fuck up," He grumbles before he leaves the apartment, not saying goodbye.

You could understand his anger. He hates being late so that, on top of your little series of pranks, was a justifiable reason for him to be mad at you. What you couldn't deal with is the face that he told you to grow up.

You've grown up with your parents constantly telling you to grow up anytime you were enjoying something. Maybe you were being childish, but it rubbed you the wrong way and now two of you are in a bad mood.

***

When Seungmin came home, you were nowhere to be found. Seungmin spent most of the day in a bad mood and when Chan asked him about it, that's when he felt bad about how he reacted this morning. Chan let him go home after the meeting so he could fix things with you.

He looked around the apartment for you and couldn't find you anywhere. He knew he was a bit harsh, not even saying goodbye to you as he left, but he didn't think you would leave.

He sat down on the couch and waited. He knew you possibly couldn't have left him over this morning. The two of you had bigger arguments over the years that would make more sense for you to leave.

After and hour of waiting, Seungmin decided to clean up while he waited. He went through his bag that he took with him to work and found the egg sandwich and coffee that you made for him. Feeling even more guilty for his behavior this morning. He quickly pulled his phone out of his pocket and tried calling you. The phone rings for a couple of seconds before it goes to voicemail. He then sends you a series of text, getting frustrated when he sees the little 'read' message indicator appear under each of his messages.

A few more hours after that you finally come home. You find Seungmin in the kitchen cooking dinner.

"Oh, so you do remember where you live. Do you remember that you have a phone too?" Seungmin asks.

"And I'm the childish one," You mumble under your breath as you walk to the bathroom.

When you turn the water faucet on, the water sprays out at you, soaking your clothes. You took the tape off earlier when you went to brush your teeth so that shouldn't have happened.

"Seungmin, what the fuck?" You should, walking into the living room in your drenched clothes.

"Ha, it worked." He smirks while looking down at the pot he was currently checking.

"Oh, so. it's funny when you do it but childish when I do?" You roll your eyes.

"I never said that you were childish." He turns the fire off under one of the pots and wipes his hands clean on his apron.

"You implied it."

"Is that why you're mad at me? Because you think I called you childish?" He stays in the kitchen but cocks his head to the side.

"I know you did, I was there."

"I'm sorry for snapping at you. I had no right to take my anger out on you. And I'm sorry for calling you immature."

"Sorry for overreacting to you calling me immature." You mumble, digging your foot into the carpet.

"Good, now come give me a hug."

"My clothes are soaked."

"It's just water, idiot. I'll live."

양 정 인 (Yang Jeong-In) (514 words)

You're loud

"You're being so loud." Jeongin groans.

You immediately shut up, not realizing that your volume had increased while you were talking. Of course, you’re aware of your habit of talking loudly when you’re excited. You were mostly good at catching yourself before his happened. But some time you got carried away.

You know he's joking. He has to be. But something in you tells you that he's not. You press your lips together as your eyes shift around the room. You two were hanging around some of the other boy, but everyone was minding their own business. You quietly mumble a sorry and pull your phone out.

***

The rest of the time you hung out with Jeongin and the boys, you hadn't said a single word. The other boys had picked up on what was going on and Jeongin was blissfully unaware.

"What about you, Y/n? What do you want to eat?" Jeongin asked you, patting your leg.

You shrug your shoulders, not looking up from the book you are reading. Jisung remembered that he was supposed to let you borrow a manga series a few weeks ago and brought out the first few books for you to read when he realized you weren't going to talk anymore.

"I know you're picky, but they have a lot of things you like so tell me what you want." He pats your leg again, thinking you're too engrossed in the book to answer him.

You roll your eyes and pull out your phone and send a text to Jisung with your order before putting your phone back down and picking up the book.

"She said she was spicy cheese tteokbokki with egg and extra fishcake and a honey lemon bubble tea. And she said she doesn't care which piece of chicken we get." Jisung says loudly to Seungmin who is ordering the food.

"Why didn't you just say that?" He asks confused, looking at you while trying to read your expression.

"She's not talking to you, idiot." Hyunjin says from his spot on the floor. He and Felix are looking at something on Felix's laptop.

"What? Why?" Jeongin says, whipping his head towards Hyunjin.

"She hasn't said a single word in two hours after you said she was being loud. Which, if you think she was being loud, what the fuck do you think of Changbin hyung? Anyway, you probably hurt her feelings." Seungmin adds.

Jeongin turns his back to face you. You brought the book closer to face to avoid looking at him.

"Did...did I hurt your feelings?" He asks softly. He leans his head on your shoulder.

"Yeah, you did." You mumble.

"I'm sorry, jagi. I didn't mean it in a mean way. I just meant that you were getting loud, but I rather be loud than never hear you again." He kisses your cheek and you melt. You know that he's not big on pda and if he's willing to kiss you in front of the other boys he must be sorry.

"Oh, I'm about to be so annoying." You laugh.

—

Buy me a coffee?

—

Taglist

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lot-of-nothing · 2 months

Text

Entwined (Ch. 1)

Melissa Schemmenti x Reader

Since your youth, the relationship between Melissa and you has been complicated. In all of your years knowing her, she just can't admit that she isn't as straight as she thinks.

Warnings: Toxic Melissa, smut, and very veiled internalized homophobia

Authors Note: If ya like it, let me know and I'll write more.

On and off.

That’s how you would describe your relationship with Melissa to your closest friends. They would inevitably roll their eyes and make a face, annoyed with how Melissa had you wrapped around her finger.

It started in high school. She would start dating a new guy, he would leave her unsatisfied in more ways than one, and then she would find those missing pieces of her relationship in you.

You were best friends after all…. and best friends would do anything for each other, right?

The first night you spent together was always vivid in your memories. Her green eyes flashing with mischief before she took your hand and pulled it to her thigh. Mel told you how badly she was aching, how it was almost painful. That she needed her best friend to help resolve what her boyfriend couldn’t.

She knew about your sexual orientation. She knew how hard it was for you to date. When you hesitated, Mel said it was like practicing for when you had a girlfriend. Only if she knew how beautiful you found her to be… that she was only making things harder for you.

Young and naive, you gladly accepted her offer - desire flooding your senses as soon as she drew your hands to her body. She guided you through every motion and step, telling you exactly what she liked. Like a sponge, you soaked up every word and memorized every fraction of her body. Never wanting to forget a thing.

Little did you know the knowledge would come in handy again… and again… and again.

—

“I should probably get going.” Mel breathed as she pushed herself into an upright position. You had been bathing in the afterglow of your sexual dalliance when you must have looked at her too yearningly. She didn’t want you getting too attached.

“I wouldn’t mind if you stayed. It’s no big deal.” You tried to shrug off her wanting to leave so soon. It was best if you played it cool rather than let her know how much you really wanted her after all these years.

It was clear she didn’t give much thought to your statement. Slipping out from under your sheets, Melissa snatched up her underwear and bra from the floor. She was always in such a rush after you were finished, “I don’t want the neighbors gettin’ the wrong idea.”

That's what she had always told you - ‘I’m not gay.’

For years, you always had a biting remark in return.

‘Yeah. It’s not like you just spent a half hour between my legs or anything.’

“What? Worried they might think you’re gay?” Your words were twinged with venom. Now, rather than wait for her to make the excuse, you threw it back in her face. It always irked you that she could say such a thing to you given all you had experienced with one another.

“A woman can enjoy the company of women and not be gay.”

You scoffed, unable to contain yourself, “You’re delusional.”

Melissa’s lip curled and her brow furrowed. She always hated when you would get pissy with her, so she decided to snap back at you as she clipped her bra in the back, “I don’t need your shit, okay? I came here for a good time after my shitty date.”

You faked a smile and let the sarcasm drip from your tongue. “Glad to help.”

—

You knew the relationship wasn’t healthy, but this is how it always went.

She would call. She would come over. You would fuck. She would want to leave right after. You would get pissed. Then you wouldn’t speak until she wanted back in your bed.

—

You gathered saliva in your mouth and then pushed your tongue between her folds, drenching Melissa’s sweet cunt in your spit.

After the last sexual dalliance, you told yourself you wouldn’t end up on your knees for her again. But 45 minutes ago you received a partial nude from the redhead, and she had you reeled back in once more. It was a scandalous picture of her standing in front of her bedroom mirror with her hand between her legs. The caption she sent with the photo was ‘Missing you.’

While it was infuriating she could send a picture at random like that, you were in your car minutes later ready to drive over to her house.

Your hands gripped behind her knees, keeping a gentle pressure to make sure she was spread wide for you. Her hands were buried in your hair to prevent you from lifting your face away from her swollen heat. But in all honesty, you weren’t planning on going anywhere until she came all over your tongue.

“Oh, fuck!” Mel whined, pushing her hips up to grind against your face. Her enjoyment made you smile, and sadly, a small ounce of hope lingered in the back of your mind that maybe you could fuck her good enough that she would want to be with you.

“Yesyesyesyes… God, you are incredible.” Melissa hissed out, chasing her orgasm through rough bucks of her hips.

You pulled back, fighting against the grip for her hands. You provided her with a singular lick to her cunt and then paused, teasing her, “You want to come?”

“Yes~”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, please.”

“Good girl…” You hummed, pulling away entirely to retrieve the strap.

—

She had barely recovered from taking a pseudo-rage filled fucking when she crawled from bed. Her legs wobbled underneath herself as she wrapped herself in a robe, trying to make it clear a third round wouldn’t be an option. “I guess you better be goin’.”

“Sounds good.” You took the hint with grace, choosing to let her statement roll off your back rather than stewing on it. You slipped from the bed, unclasped Melissa’s strap (that she kept around just for you), and tossed the sex toy on the bed. You then proceeded to get ready in silence, not offering anything to Melissa that might display your displeasure.

The redhead was slowly unnerved by your silence as you zipped up your trousers and pulled your shirt over your head. She stared at her nail beds, trying to start casual conversation, “Gary proposed.”

You glanced up at her quickly, brow furrowed in angry questioning. While you were not proud of how easily Mel could reel you in, you wouldn’t have come if she was still in a relationship let alone engaged.

Melissa noticed your incredulous look and finished explaining, “I said no.”

You breathed out a scoff as you tucked your phone in your back pocket and scooped up your sweater off the floor. “That sounds about right.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Melissa was clearly unhappy with your tone, but you refused to glance her way - slightly enraging her further.

Swiping your wallet and car keys from the bedside table you finally glanced over to where Mel sat on the edge of the bed. It was difficult to tell if she was more angry or embarrassed by your criticism, “I’ve learned the hard way, Mel. You’re hardly one to be tied down by something as trivial as love.”

Melissa was left speechless by your blatant honesty, and she could only stare as you gave her a curt nod, “I’ll see you around.”

—

She wasn’t gone for a half hour when you received a text from her - ‘Again tomorrow night? ;)’

It immediately forced you to roll your eyes. How you loved and hated that she was like this. One moment she would be so oppositional to any form of attachment, and then the moment someone ‘played hard to get’ with her, she would be fiending for their attention.

What was worse is that you were no better than her. You replied almost automatically - ‘I am off at 4. Come over whenever.’

Link to Chapter 2

#melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti x reader #lisa ann walter #abbott elementary #toxic relationship #if you like the fic then let me know. it was fun to write :)

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bellawoso · 4 months

Text

You Belong With Me

Aitana Bonmati x fem!reader

(Sorry to my non-male attracted viewers, there’s only a tiny bit of straightness at the start!)

You and Aitana had met and instantly clicked as soon as you made the move to Barcelona, even though when you moved you had no experience speaking the Spanish language at all, Aitana used her broken English which never failed at making you laugh to teach you the basics of her first language.

When you were at Arsenal, you met a man at the bar when the team was celebrating a successful victory against Chelsea which ensured that North London stayed red. After engaging in a conversation with him, you learnt that the two of you shared similar interests including football, and he later asked you out on a date which you immediately accepted.

After a few more dates, texting back and forth, and the short but sweet kisses you two shared, he soon asked if you would be his girlfriend, which you accepted happily.

In all honesty, you hadn’t been with anyone in a while, and so when you met him, you completely misunderstood your platonic connection with him as a romantic connection between you two.

When your contract ended with Arsenal, Barcelona almost instantly reached out offering you a new contract, one that you couldn’t turn away.

At the time, you and your boyfriend were hitting the 8 month mark, you had moved in together and broke the news to him over dinner. He agreed to long distance, and when he mentioned how proud he was of you at the time, you really thought he was the one.

You two did long distance for around 3 months, almost hitting your 1 year anniversary, your boyfriend had previously explained his plans to come over on the 12th, 2 days before Valentines Day. But on February 8th, you received a phone call from him, explaining he couldn’t come as he had thought over your relationship and didn’t think it was worth it to continue long distance for over a year.

You weren’t heartbroken, but you more just felt numb, you told Aitana about what happened but failed to notice the look of relief masked by her predominantly angered state at your boyfriend for hurting you only a few days before Valentines.

The night before Valentines, Aitana had come round one again to comfort you as your head rested in her lap, and once again you missed the red tint to her cheeks as she ran her fingers through your hair. As you looked up at the brunette midfielder, you saw a look of hesitation in her eyes.

“What’s wrong tana?”

“I- I was just wondering if you would like to spend Valentines with me tomorrow? To take your mind off him.”

“As friends?” You asked, but for once the idea of you spending the day as ‘friends’ with Aitana made your heart ache.

A flash of hurt appeared in Aitana’s eyes as she answered you softly, “Yes, as friends.”

You only hummed in response and buried your head into her lap, hoping to hide the disappointment on your face.

———————————————————————

When you awoke the next morning, you were hurt to see that Aitana had left, only leaving you a short message.

From: Aitana

- I pick you at 7, formal wear.

For once, Aitana’s bad English didn’t make you laugh. Instead it reminded you of the uneasy feeling in your chest about your newfound feelings towards your best friend.

You spent most of the day moping around, trying to cure your confused mind about Aitana. You had only ever been with boys in your life, why were you beginning to feel like this now, at 24?

You knew that there was nothing wrong with figuring out your sexuality later than others, but you had listened to most of your teammates’ stories about how they figured they were into girls at 12. You are now double the age they found out about themselves, and a sense of fear settled in your chest at the thought of coming out to everyone, your friends, your family, the public.

So you called one of your closest friends, Keira.

You already knew Keira from the Lionesses team, and when you moved to Barcelona, she was quick to take you under her wing with her and Lucy being the only fluent English speakers in the team.

After a few tries of ringing Keira, the English midfielder finally picked up.

“How did you know you were into girls?”

A chuckle could be heard from Keira’s end of the call, which you made out to be Lucy sat near her.

“I just realised that what I felt for them wasn’t platonic, and was romantic feelings instead, why do you ask?”

“Aitana asked me to spend Valentine’s Day with her as friends, but I’m not sure if I want it to be more than that Kei.”

For a moment, Keira’s end of the line went quiet, which you guessed was the older girl being in thought, until you heard some rustling and then Lucy’s voice through your phone.

“Hello kid, I have news for you.”

“Lucy I swear to god if your going to make fun of me then save it, I have a real problem here.”

“Calm down kid, what I was trying to say that due to me being amazing friends with Mapi, she often talks about how when Aitana third-wheels her and Ingrid, Aitana often spends the entire time gushing about you, does that sound platonic to you?”

“I don’t know.”

“God y/n! Your useless, no wonder Aitana hasn’t asked you out yet, if your this oblivious to all her flirting!”

“She does not flirt with me!” You retorted.

“She calls you amor, lets you sit on her lap, and always blushes when you kiss her cheek, the poor girl probably thinks your 100% straight and leading her on!”

“Well actually Lucy, less than a week ago I thought I was a 100% straight, so..”

“Shut up, just treat it as a date, and kiss her at the end to get your point across and you will be fine”

“Your no help Lucy, goodbye”

And with that, you hang up still trying to process Lucy’s earlier words, Aitana talks about you to others, and now you think about it, is Aitana really flirting with you, have you mistook it as general Spanish affection?

Aitana has never been one to shy away from her sexuality, always making her disgust for romantic activities with men known. You on the other hand, had never confirmed your sexuality as straight, but equally you had only ever dated men, which left people to assume. Did Aitana share your feelings, or had you and Lucy misread the situation?

What you were unaware of though, was Lucy and Keira’s shock which they masked well on the call, and Lucy’s first words when the call ended being: ‘What the actual fuck.’

The whole team knew about Aitana’s tragically unrequited love for you, they saw each time Aitana made a hint of you to reveal your sexuality by making a comment of:

“I just don’t know how you put up with men!”

And each time, they saw how the small glimmer of hope that you would agree with her shatter as instead you laughed it off, replying with “I don’t know I just do!”

———————————————————————

As promised, Aitana’s car pulls up outside your house at 7, to which you rush out of your house ready to meet the beautiful brunette, who was clad in the most gorgeous suit you had ever seen in your entire life.

You didn’t miss how her eyes raked over your figure which was hugged by a strapless back dress which accentuated all of your curves.

She opened the passenger door for you and then walked round to the drivers side, the drive there was filled with silence, little did the both of you know, you both shared the same thoughts of what exactly the other wanted this ‘friend’ date to be.

When you got to the restaurant, you were unsurprised to see that it was some fancy 5-star restaurant that Aitana had picked out.

You had both ordered starters, mains and deserts and had chatted just as you normally would over a bottle of red wine.

Aitana couldn’t help but notice the way the red wine had slightly tinted your lips, and she wished nothing more than to have a chance to taste them some day.

Of course you noticed Aitana staring at your lips, but Aitana didn’t know that at that moment, you had realised that there was no one else you would rather be with right now. That you would trade the past year of good memories spent with your boyfriend, just to remember this one perfect night with Aitana.

“I don’t want to be here as friends.” You said nervously.

A look of shock was evident in Aitana’s eyes, “What do you mean? Have I upset you?”

“No, no! Of course not tana. I meant that I- ”

You paused for a second and made the haste decision to be completely honest with Aitana.

“God, I don’t know how to say this, I’ve never actually asked anyone out before!”

There it was, the look in her eyes that you wanted to see for the rest of your life time, the glimmer of hope that even Aitana herself thought you had fully extinguished long ago.

Aitana could not help her smile which stretched ear to ear, as she helped you out.

“Could this be a date then if you are okay with that?” Aitana asked softly.

“I would love that.”

With that you and Aitana got up and walked out of the restaurant, the previous adrenaline rush Aitana was still on from coming clean about her feelings with you, urged the brunette to lace her fingers with yours as she led you back to her car.

On the drive back, you noticed how tense Aitana looked, so with a similar sense of confidence to Aitana earlier, you grabbed her hand, which rested awkwardly on her lap and moved it to your thigh. Upon doing this Aitana’s stance relaxed visibly, and she looked over at you with a dopey smile, one which you couldn’t help the laugh that escaped your lips.

When it was time to get out of the car when it pulled up outside your house, Aitana quickly scrambled up and walked you over to your door.

“I would invite you in.” You said with a smile, “But I need some time to think, okay?”

“That’s fine, I understand, I will pick you up for training tomorow?”

“I look forward to it.”

But as Aitana turned to leave, you grabbed her bicep pulling her back to you where your lips met hers in a soft, sensual kiss.

You were the first to pull back, offering her a smile, “Night tana.”

“Goodnight y/n.”

———————————————————————

The next morning, Aitana pulled outside of your house at 7:45, ready for the 8am training session, when you both arrived and got out of the car, you made the decision to hold the brunette’s hand as you walked to the locker room.

“Ready?” Aitana asked.

“Always.” You responded.

With her free hand, Aitana pushed open the door, only to hear the familiar chatter and laughter stop.

As you and Aitana came into the view of the other players, you two were met with a few wolf whistles, and many of your teammates muttering:

“I can’t believe it.”

Until Mapi comes barrelling over and basically throws herself on poor Aitana’s back.

“Well done my friend! I see you finally came to your senses and asked her out!”

Aitana’s glare was enough to silence Mapi, who instead turned to you.

“And you, miss england, I thought you were straight!”

This statement recieved yet another scowl from Aitana, who instinctively wrapped her arm around your waist.

“I never confirmed my sexuality.”

“You’ve only ever been with boys, in fact you have a boyfriend of like a year?”

“They broke up, idiot.” Aitana answered for you.

“Hey don’t call me idiot! This is just…unexpected?” Mapi said, feigning a look of hurt.

Only then did Lucy and Keira walk in, to see you with Aitana’s arms still securely wrapped around your waist.

“Ha! I told you guys and none of you believed me, every single one of you except Ona owes me €10!” Lucy exclaimed.

“You betted on us?! And they don’t owe you anything, it was an unfair bet, I already told you I liked her!” You said whilst blushing.

“Lucy you cheater!” Mapi shouted.

Lucy, ignoring them sauntered over to you and whispered “So, what type of gay are you?”

“Lucy that’s possibly the weirdest thing that you’ve ever said in your life.” You said, whilst grabbing Aitana’s hand from your waist and tugging her out if the room.

“I still can’t believe this.” Patri muttered.

———————————————————————

Please loves don’t be shy to send in some requests! 🤍

#barcelona femeni #barcelona femeni x reader #woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso x reader #mapi leon #mapi león #ona batlle #aitana bonmati x reader #aitana bonmati #alexia putellas #keira walsh #lucy bronze #Spotify

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moominsuki · 1 year

Text

THE DRIEST SPELL OF THEM ALL (7.1k) — bakugou katsuki x f!reader

✎ᝰ you've only been in a relationship with bakugou for a short while, but you can't help but think it's strange that you haven't had sex. guess it's time to change that.

࿄ ! warnings — nsfw, straight up penetrative sex, established relationship, oral sex (f!receiving), unprotected sex, lots of praise and feelings, bakugou is a sweetie pie, not a safe space for minors, reader is a college student and bkg is a pro hero.

/ note. this is my first, long fic and i'm so excited to share it with you guys. honestly was so fun to write and it has a lot of plot but who is uma if she doesn't have loads of self-indulgent dialogue?? anyways minors please do not interact with this and to the rest of you, please enjoy my very smutty fanfic.

to bakugou, the first time you and him have sex happens out of the blue. the relationship is relatively new and fresh - only around three-four months in. you do think it is kind of weird that you guys haven’t crossed the line of actually doing the deed.

you both have tiptoed the threshold of making out and soft touches. like when he came over to your place and you both made out after dinner together. you offered to put on a movie - just a random romance flick that you don’t seem to remember now; considering the tension in the room could’ve been cut with a meat cleaver.

just three months ago, it had been your third date and you’d only passed a few light touches and long hugs at this juncture so when he put his hand on your bare knee, it was game over. you pounced on the blond and kissed him for as long as your breath willed you to. it just probably was not the best idea for you to try to undress on your couch.

“is it alright if i take this off?” you say, going to grab the hems of your light pink shirt that wasn’t doing enough to cover the hardness of your nipples. bakugou nosed at your jaw and kissed at your neck before he bit back a groan at this and rested his hands at hem of your skirt before nodding.

“fuck, you don’t gotta ask me, princess. just do it.” your hands slipped under your shirt and revealed underside of your boobs - which bakugou was ready to smooth his hands over until the footsteps of someone approached your living room.

“hey y/n- oh my GOD. i am so sorry oh-” and the footsteps are heard running to another room before a SLAM! echoes in the distance. you had not anticipated that your roommate would be arriving home so early but then again, common sense would have told you to go to your bedroom.

alas, it was too late. the mood had dampened significantly and bakugou awkwardly made his way out of your apartment - failing to look at you or your red faced roommate. he did, however, send a text apologising to the both of you and by the next day, everything had seemingly been forgotten.

the sexual tension had not been forgotten.

there would be many more days where you and bakugou would get hot and steamy before being interrupted by his friends, or a phone call coaxing him back to work, or the fact that the both you were super busy. he was an up and coming hero and while your career wasn’t as demanding as your better half, you were a busy college student: with assignments piling by the day, leaving you with little time to do anything with your boyfriend… which left you both sexually frustrated and unsatisfied… until now.

“there’s so many hot guys here. i should really pick you up more often,” sighs mina happily as she waves at a guy on your campus.

“mina, you are literally a pro hero. you could find a guy way hotter than… the guy who literally sits behind me in my pharmacy class. and he’s a stupid fuckboy, by the way.”

“good thing is i have a thing for stupid fuckboys,” she smiles and you roll your eyes. “but enough about meeee,” she drawls and you groan out loud, “what’s up with you and mr dynamight?” you both reach a red light and she turns to wiggle her eyebrows at you.

“nothing. well, not nothing - we’re fine. just fine.”

“you guys haven’t had sex yet?”

you splutter indignantly and mina taps onto the steering wheel and nods empathetically.

“what- when did i even imply that-”

“a girl always knows when her friend hasn’t done the do with her boyfriend yet. always. you’d be glowing and bubbly and happy but here you are… low-key awkward, not glowing. you don’t have that post-sex first time glow-”

you yell over her ramblings, “okay, OKAY, i get it. fine, we haven’t had sex. but it’s not like we - i don’t want to. it’s just time and finding the privacy to… fuck. and you literally work with katsuki. you know how pedantic he is about his work and his free time.”

“so you’re saying he doesn’t want to fuck? or that he’s avoiding you?” quizzes mina and it’s your turn to sigh, albeit a little sadly.

“i don’t think he’s avoiding me but whenever we get to the point of just doing… it, something happens and now he just doesn’t really initiate it? i don’t know if it’s because he just knows we’ll be interrupted or he just doesn’t want to anymore… am i overthinking it?”

mina parks her car and stares straight on to fully digest what you say before nodding.

“no you’re not - but this is BAKUGOU we’re talking about. he’s not your average guy. have you seen the way he looks at you? it’s like he wants to eat you every time you enter a room. like genuinely i have never seen a more feral man so this is very surprising news to me,” ponders mina and you laugh a little at her admission, kind of grateful for it. before you can say anything, she turns to you and grabs your shoulders.

“i have the perfect idea! we’re having a party at the agency tomorrow night and you should “go.”,” she gestures with finger quotes. you look at her strangely and raise a brow.

“I should “go?”” you copy her gestures and she nods vehemently.

“are you catching my drift?…” you shake your head in confusion and she rolls her eyes, “jeez, okay, look, i’ll remind bakugou about the get together and i’ll tell him that i told you about it. he’ll invite you and when the day comes, you guys just don’t go.”

“we don’t show up? but why-” the cogs in your mind turn inquisitively before you put two and two together at mina’s wiggling brows and you “ohhhhh” in mutual understanding.

“you know, that’s not a half bad idea. as long as you can everyone to not question our absence…”

mina laughs, offended a little at your quip, “y/n, baby, lovely. when i make a proposition, i tie up all the loose ends. it’s just up to you to find the right time and place. you get one evening to sort your sexual tension out. after that, it’s smooth sailing. and i prayyy that you do. have you noticed that he’s been really pent up? bakugou’s angry but he’s like, exceptionally angry, these days-”

“if you’re trying to insinuate he’s mad because he’s sexually frustrated, i have no answer to that. and we’ve been sitting in your car for almost 20 minutes now. we probably look crazy,” you note and mina sighs and nods before grabbing her things.

“you can avoid this conversation but when he taps that, you will tell me all about it and i will not accept no for an answer.” you hum indifferently and make a mental reminder to make up a story if the night that entails will be as raunchy as you hope it will be.

when mina drops you home, bakugou sends a text.

katsuki: y/n, did mina tell you about some dumb thing we’re doing at the agency?”

you smile at that.

you: yeah, she mentioned it. why, are you thinking of going?”

hook…

you tap your toes expectantly as you see the bubbles disappear and reappear.

katsuki: don’t really want to but they’re gonna force me to, so fuck it. you doing anything tomorrow night?”

line…

you: nope, don’t have any plans. why?”

katsuki: you wanna come with as a date? you’ll brighten up the shitty place.”

sinker.

you squeal at your phone and collect yourself to reply.

“sure, kats, I’d love to go with you. you can come over to my parents place so we can get ready together if you’d like.”

“you busy right now? wanna call you.”

he doesn’t wait for you to answer and it rings. you often think you got lucky for having such an easygoing and pliant man and today cements your beliefs as you go to pick up his call.

ᝰᝰᝰᝰᝰ

the day of the party seems like a long one. you made sure that your parents would not be home for the weekend - while it’s terribly unsexy to fuck in your parents home, the chance of your roommate bombarding your sexy time with your boyfriend is too high of a chance to risk and you’ve spent more time than necessary thinking about what the day would entail.

now that you’ve shed your pyjamas, you look at yourself in your bathroom mirror. your orange panties are doing nothing to hide the outline of your kitty and you’re definitely certain that the bra’s purpose was purely just encase your boobs in a rune of bright orange and white.

“i’m never letting mina pick out lingerie for me again,” you sigh as you poke and prod at the pieces. of course mina had to pick out the most raunchy, provocative and immodest pieces known to man. you’re pretty sure you could see the colour of your nipples sticking out of the material. you were somewhat questioning whether this was a good idea. what if bakugou thought this was too much? would he even like this? you definitely should’ve asked him first-

katsuki: on my way. will be there in five.

of course he texts you right at this moment, breaking you out of your horny driven and frantic stupor.

now that you really think about it, when you recall all the time you’ve almost been with bakugou, it makes you close your legs together to calm down any heartbeats ruminating between your legs. it makes the situation of not actually having sex with him yet even more heartbreaking - you want the feeling of his hands running down your body, his lips nipping at your lower belly, down to where you really want him. it makes you wonder what position he’d fold you into, if he’d press you into the mattress and make you cum till you were shaking and crying…

you inhale deeply and run around your home to do a few, final touches. you felt like you were a teenage girl all over again - faffing all about the house and praying that your parents wouldn’t come home and notice that your boyfriend fucked you into your flowery sheets. and you hoped bakugou wouldn’t just yet notice the strong smell of his your favourite perfume and the orange lace clinging onto your ass and boobs underneath meticulous layers of less attractive pyjamas. is this what they call reverse psychology? it’s no time to ponder when your boyfriend knocks on the door and you practically launch yourself downstairs to greet him.

you have to bite back a moan when you see him. seeing as this was a relatively fresh relationship, you both agreed that you wouldn’t always obsess over seeing each other. the last time you saw bakugou was two or so days ago and you make a mental note to throw away that line of thinking when you see your boyfriend in all his glory.

he’s wearing his typical grey joggers and hoodie combo (the one who looks the most biteable in) and he pushes down his hood to reveal his wheat-haired mullet and downright gorgeous face. he enters your home and you stand by patiently waiting for him to drop his bag and take off his shoes before touching all on him.

“you not gonna say hello?” bakugou says gruffly and you roll your eyes (in your head, of course) before walking up to him and wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing his cheek.

“hey, baby. missed you,” you kiss into his face and bakugou wraps an arm round your waist and raises his arms to grabs at your cheeks to properly look at your face before kissing you once. and twice. thrice. even four times before you’re laughing and begging him to stop. with a stretched hand, you lead your boyfriend upstairs to your childhood bedroom.

“any reason ya wanted to stop off at your parents instead of my place?” bakugou asked, raising a brow in suspicion. you fight back the urge to overtly shudder at the thought of his friends ruining what will be a long night - especially if you had anything to do with it.

“i was just thinking that we don’t really get much time to ourselves. just us two. i think we’ve only had a proper date to ourselves maybe three times. and i am saying that loosely,” you admit. bakugou scoffs and sits on the edge of your bed.

“‘s not my fault people are always botherin’ us,” he mumbles and then he looks up at you and gestures for you to stand between his legs. you do so quite obediently.

“never said it was, baby,” you say, just above a whisper, as you brush the back of his hair and into his scalp. his hands rest at your knees and rub softly against your thighs and you really have to fight back the urge to jump his bones. but, alas, you had to make him want this just as much as you.

your boyfriend hums and leans into your touch and bakugou looks up at you and smiles, a little mischievous, “so we have your ‘rents house all to ourselves and ya wanna waste it on going to a lame ass company party?”

your eyes widen at that, not really expecting him to almost put two and two together so early on. you grossly underestimated the intelligence of your boyfriend so you had to dispel any ideas of sexual activity before he spearheaded into your plan.

“first of all, you invited me. and second of all, it’d be nice to go and come back to a place all to ourselves for once. we don’t really get to go to parties with your friends often,” you muse and bakugou groans and wraps his arms around your thighs.

“they wouldn’t even know we were missing…” he grumbles and you smile down at him and give him a kiss to his forehead, your thumb passing his brow piercing and booping his nose and lips.

“we don’t even have to go for that long if you don’t want to-”

“i don’t wanna go at all.” bakugou states adamantly and you tap his face and bask in his hold and affection.

“we only have to just show up, so you’re not gonna get out of this one easily. then you have me all to yourself. sounds good, kats?”

bakugou throws his arms off you and himself into your pillows and pulls his phone out - akin to a petulant child and you have to laugh. if only he knew what was actually going to happen.

“yeah, yeah, just - let’s just chill for a bit.. we can at least cuddle before we have to fucking spend time with those idiots,” katsuki grunts and you hum at his reply before clambering on top of your hulk of a boyfriend. you stare down at him in all his glory. now that you were right above him, you notice he looked more tan than usual. and did his lips always look so kissable?

“y/n? you all good up there?” kstsuki asks as he taps softly onto the planes of your temple. you look down at his nose and then his lips and it’s settled.

fuck it. there was no going back now. this was happening today.

“yeah, kats, ‘m good. just missed you, is all,” you breathe out and your boyfriend hums in reply and you thank your lucky stars that he’s sometimes a little naive when it came to you- lest he speedrun his own surprise.

bakugou looks at you, all soft and loving even though all you can see and feel are his red eyes piercing into you. he stuffs his phone into his pocket and pulls you into his wide chest, arms imprisoning you.

“shitty hair just texted me asking where we are. ‘m gonna tell him to fuck off.”

“don’t be mean to your friends,” you scold and bakugou rolls his eyes but he’s barely paying attention to what you’re saying. you try to ignore the fact he’s looking at you properly - drinking you in all angles.

“you gonna let me kiss you or just keep staring?” katsuki asks, eyes all half lidded and brooding. you shy away a little at his upfront neediness for you but you entertain him regardless. you bend down to plant a soft kiss on his mouth but that does little to satiate him.

“the fuck was that? you love torturing me, huh, princess,” katsuki groans and you smile at his expression: all frowny and so, so pretty.

“sorry, sorry, you’re right. just love teasing you,” you say, barely above a whisper and you give katsuki his first proper kiss since seeing him today. the kiss is heavy: all tongue and wet and warm and you grab onto his arms to ground yourself. meanwhile bakugou pulls you down so you’re right on top of him, so he can get a better grip on your ass and easier access to your mouth. you’ve got a leg over his hips and an arm hanging off his shoulder, completely attached. he’s got a large palm on your lower back, slowly drifting further and further to squish your ass.

it’s like this for a couple of minutes; your arms wrapped around his head and neck, his large palms groping at your ass and hips and bakugou’s mouth kissing on your tongue and lips. your leg rests on his waist and you swear you can feel the heat of his dick right then and there. it’s not like you can miss it, all heavy and imposing.

“fucking needed this, baby,” your boyfriend practically moans and a hand sneaks in your pyjama top and shorts and you moan loudly as he squeezes and grabs at you, your leg around his waist pulling him even closer. katsuki pulls back at the feeling of soft lace running across his fingertips and only then does it resonate that he can feel what you’re wearing. he looks at your face with a quizzical look and you want to hide from the sharpness of his eyes.

“what’s this ‘m feeling?” katsuki asks and you stuff your face in his neck as he smoothed his hands on your lace clad hips.

“just a little something i was gonna surprise you with…” you trail off and he sits up at this declaration.

“yeah? something f’me? you not gonna lemme see it?” he muses and your eyes widen. your boyfriend has always been pretty bold so you don’t know why you’re being so shy right now but you comply with his demands and sit up on his lap to pull off your shirt to reveal the brightly coloured brassiere.

bakugou’s breath hitches and his chest rises a little slowly when he sees the bra in it’s entirety. you look gorgeous, he thinks. all innocent and sexy at the same time. he doesn’t know whether he wants your legs on his shoulders so he can taste you until you’re begging him to stop… or whether he should just fold you in half and fuck you until pearly tears are falling down your cheeks.

he decides on complimenting you for the time being:“you look gorgeous, princess. fucking sexy… all f’me, yeah?”

“who else would it be for, dummy?” you say in a low, humorous tone and your hand travels up his chest to rest at his jaw, so you can give him a kiss to his ‘o’ shaped mouth. you slot yourself entirely at the weight of his bottoms and only then do you really feel what you’ve done to him. it’s your turn to make an ‘o’ shaped expression.

you lean down to kiss his lips again, sucking on his bottom lip before letting go with a pop, before smiling at him. katsuki grins back at you, leaning up on his elbows and nudging his nose against yours and you can smell his minty breath. you rest your hand over his stubbled cheek, brushing a hand over it as he slots his lips with yours. he takes his time with you, so much tongue as drinks everything you give him. katsuki lays back down to watch you and runs his hands over your hips, squeezing at your ass and all the parts he can get his hands on.

he decides he’s had enough of the petting and the touches because he groans and grabs at your waist so he can you flip you over.

bakugou presses hot and wet kisses and nips at your jaw and your neck - till he’s laying on his stomach to kiss at the top of your breasts. he’s fiddling with the underwire of the bra before he looks up at you with blown out pupils and a smirk to match.

“we were never going to that party, we’re we, baby?” he hums as he noisily kisses and sucks your collarbones and the fat of your breasts. you know he’s caught you out and trying to elicit a reaction but with the way he’s biting and kissing on you, you can’t find it in yourself to care.

“n-no…” you say, with a hint of a whine, “just wanted you to myself for once.” bakugou can feel himself throb at how much you want him and he climbs up to situate himself exactly above you, his arms caging around your head.

“such a fucking minx, you know that? who knew you had it in you, princess?” he says, looking directly into your eyes. you feel small under his gaze and try to cower away but his hand grabs at the chub of your cheeks.

“don’t get all shy on me now, baby. you knew exactly what you were doing,” katsuki trails off, now littering your neck with gentle bites and hot, wet breath that made your spine shudder and toes writhe.

“you’re not gonna embarrass me. it's gotten me this far, so not a bad deal,” you gasp, just shy of a whimper at your boyfriend’s ministrations. katsuki chuckles at this and sits on his haunches to have a good look at you.

“at least you did your research… y’know orange’s my favourite colour too. can i take this off, princess?” katsuki asks, his hands brushing over the thin straps of your bra. you sit up slightly and nod at him. however, he doesn’t seem content with that answer as he thumbs over your nipple through the bra and you gasp again.

“use your words, pretty girl. that don’t mean shit to me,” he breathes out and you want to fight him for forcing you to beg so explicitly.

“yes, yes please,” you practically cry out and bakugou fixes his hands to undo the clasp of your bra and your breasts spill out of the material. katsuki bites back a moan, his eyes half lidded at the sight of you. he feels like a teenage boy all over again - wanting to grope and bite and kiss at you. so he does exactly that.

discarding your bra, he leans down onto his stomach and goes to playfully bite down at your left nipple and you whine at him, placing a hand in his unruly hair. just as you’re about to scold him, he smoothes over his bites and sucks with wet and soft kisses over the skin. with his free hand, he travels down to your barely there shorts and slips into them, his fingers leaving a ghost of a touch against your pussy.

“can feel how wet you are and i’ve barely even touched you,” whispers bakugou and he kisses at your tits while watching your expression. to say you felt shy under his watchful eyes was understatement. but you still wanted so much more.

“katsuki… please,” you breathe out and he presses his fingers harder into your barely covered clit and you bite your lower lip to stop a squeak from leaving your throat.

“please, what, pretty? you look like you knew what you wanted when you dressed up all sexy f’me,” katsuki says mischievously and you want to slap and ride his face at the same time. you’ll save that for another day.

“please make me… cum,” you finally get out and bakugou kisses at your breasts one last time before descending into the lower half of your body.

“since you used your manners,” katsuki muses but you both knew he wouldn’t pass at the chance to get his mouth on you anyway, recalling back to your moments of interrupted intimacy (or cockblocking as katsuki would call it).

katsuki pulls down your fluffy pyjama shorts to reveal the orange panty ensemble and he bites his lip to hold back a whimper at the noticeable damp spot just at your cunt hole. he looks up at you, who’s clearly embarrassed by all the attention because you’re covering your face with your hands. he playfully bites down on your thigh and you yelp, looking right at his lust filled eyes.

“wan’ you looking at me when ‘m bout to eat you out,” murmurs your boyfriend and you force the heels of your feet dig into the plush of your bed so you don’t clench your thighs at his words.

bakugou continues with looking at your pussy and he can practically see your walls clenching from how turned you are and he feels impossibly harder at the thought of tasting you. he places a small, wet kiss on panty-covered clit and you tuck your bottom lip under your teeth.

katsuki continues to lave and give attention to your pussy by soft and wet kisses through the material and your whimpers were about to turn into complaints until he pulls the dampened material down your legs and stuffs it in his trouser pocket.

in any other given situation, you would have brought that up but katsuki launches himself between your legs and starts suckling at your clit and suddenly, whatever happened before has been forgotten. you cry out at the sudden attack on your pussy and the noises that come out of you are borderline pornographic.

“k-katsuki, fuck, that feels so g-good,” you stutter, whole body practically trembling.

“yeah?” your boyfriend chuckles, “you taste good, princess. can’t believe i went this long without having you on my face,” he grunts, alternating between kissing and sucking at your clit and your lips. when you thought it couldn’t get any better, he slowly presses two fingers into your hole and your head falls back into the pillows.

katsuki’s watching your reaction and he’s humping the bed for even a lick of friction; the way you taste and sound is too much for his senses. he can feel the tip of his dick leaking when you cry out his name and his eyes roll back when he feels you clench around him.

“o-oh, ‘m gonna come, kats, fuck, ‘s too much-”

“that’s it, baby. doing so well f’me, fuck. wan’ you to come all over my face. can you do that f’me?” asks bakugou while he alternates between stroking your inner walls and tongue-fucking you.

you nod, unable to answer and practically scream before your eyes begin to roll back, your toes begin to curl and the effects of your orgasm hit you like a truck. all you can see is white and you can’t even comprehend the noises coming out of you.

katsuki decides he is in love with the way you look when you come undone. he fucks you through your orgasm, lapping up everything that you give him and he only stops when your thighs begin to close up around his head and you make feeble attempts to push him away. not wanting to overwhelm you, he kisses your clit before sitting up and notes that he would stay between your legs some other day.

meanwhile, you’re catching your breath and your eyes are brim with a few unshed tears and katsuki chuckles breathily at you. you pout, “don’t laugh at me,” and he smiles in awe at your naked beauty. it’s only then when his eyes rake up and down your body that you realise he’s still completely clothed.

“starting to think you’re allergic to getting naked.. i’m feeling all exposed and left out,” your pout deepens and he stretches a hand to pinch at your nipple and you yelp and swat him away.

“relax, pretty girl, all you had to do was ask. ‘sides, not like i can fuck you in my clothes,” katsuki smirks and you roll your eyes and nibble your lips, impatiently awaiting to see your boyfriend in all his true glory.

bakugou pulls off his jumper and shirt in one go to reveal his tan chest and various miscellaneous tattoos, including one of your favourite flower right under his right pec. he then goes onto to pull down his joggers to reveal tight, grey briefs - and you hold your breath at the sight.

your mouth waters when you can see the length of his meat alongside his thigh and you can even see the damp patch on where the head of his mushroom-shaped tip is supposed to be. katsuki can see you checking him out and his chest puffs up a little at this.

“you look like you’re about to eat me, princess,” he jokes and you raise a brow.

when you’re about to bite back at him, you realise that you’re way too horny to waste anymore time and instead, you just nod seductively and open your arms so he can rest on top of you.

katsuki accepts and his arms rest by your head. he’s directly above you and only now does the sheer size of your boyfriend dawn on you. his whole body hulks over you and you’re unable to hold back a whimper that escapes when you realise just how hot this situation is.

“you still turned on? anythin’ i can do to help you?” katsuki snickers and you know he gets off on teasing you: he’s enjoying your helplessness and the fact that you’re so horny you’ve been rendered slightly brainless.

“stop teasing me,” you pout and katsuki leans down to kiss your pouty lips and he smiles, all warm at you even though he’s one clothing item away from rearranging your insides.

“sorry, princess. ‘s just fun to tease ya, is all. believe me when i say i wan’ this just as much as you do,” he grunts out and he sits up to finally rid of his briefs.

the wait is agonisingly long but when bakugou finally strips himself naked, your whole world stops.

your boyfriend is a hefty, adonis of a man so the size of his cock should’ve never surprised but no amount of mental physical preparation could have prepared you for the actual thing. it’s beautiful, veiny and thick - the length being tan with a vein that climbs all the way to the head of his cock: which sits at a dark pink, almost red colour, dribbling with precum. at the base of his cock sits a tuft of blond hair and your mouth basically waters.

katsuki’s dick twitches a little at your unwavering gaze and it’s his turn to feel a little embarrassed. you sit up and reach a hand out to thumb at his most prominent vein and a mixture of a groan and a whimper catches at the back of his throat. he feels like - he knows he could come just from looking at you as you brush against his cock.

it’s why he jumps to crowd over you on the bed and grabs your right thigh to sit at his waist.

“you think you’re ready? ‘m gonna ease into you slowly, ‘kay? promise you’ll tell me if it hurts,” he insists and you make sure to verbally reply, lest he waste time trying to get you to speak up.

“fuck, yes, ‘m ready, please put it in already,” you beg and katsuki wants to call you needy but the mushroom head of his cock brushes against your slick pussy lips and any smart reply he has locked and loaded in his head goes out his ear.

katsuki grabs his cock and brushes it on your clit, your lips and then circles your cunt hole and you’re clenching just at the feeling of him pressing down onto your most sensitive parts. you were half sure he was going to make you beg for it but before you could blink, he presses into you and your head would’ve hit the headboard had katsuki not place his hand behind you knowingly.

the feeling of him inside you is too much but not enough simultaneously and your hands grip at his forearms and you’re not sure on whether you want to push him away or bring him closer.

meanwhile, katsuki’s fighting his own mental battle: he curses himself for putting this off for too long and also prays that he doesn’t come before he at least gets yku off. you’re tighter, warmer, wetter than he anticipated and he can’t get enough of you. he’s not even watching himself feed his cock into your gooey hole, deathly afraid that if he looks down for at least one measly second, he would bust so deep into you, you’d be pregnant with triplets.

katsuki’s eyebrows are furrowed as he finally sheathes all the way into you and you rest a hand on his lower abdomen at a feeble attempt to push him away.

“i don’ think is’ gonna f-fit,” you slur, “‘m so full.” katsuki grabs your hand and lifts it above your head in a small, handholding embrace.

“don’t push me away,” he practically growls and he situates himself so he’s resting on top of you again, “you’re a big girl. if you wan’ me off of ya, you know to use ya words.”

you furrow your brows and look away from his dark eyed gaze and he chuckles, “that’s what i thought.”

katsuki pulls himself slightly out of your warmth, only to grind himself back in at an antagonising pace. he sets a speed and he lets go of your hand to properly rest on his forearms above you. you use this as an opportunity to wrap your arms around his back; your face scrunched and bottom lip tucked under your teeth.

you can feel katsuki’s pants above you and you finally open your eyes to see him and he’s probably never looked more sexy and eatable. his hair is sticking to his forehead and his eyebrows are furrowed so deeply that frown will probably be stuck for a while. katsuki angles himself just ever so slightly and you throw your head back in unabashed pleasure as he hits that sweet spot inside you.

“you like that, sweet girl? look at you.. fuck, all fucked out. wan’ you to tell me how good ‘m fucking you,” katsuki breathes out and you swear you’re not ignoring him on purpose because with the way his cock presses inside you and with the way his pubes brush against your clit, all you can muster is a broken moan (one that katsuki will definitely tease you about later).

“that’s how good ‘m fucking ya? can’t even - fuck, ha - can’t even speak, can ya?,” he says out loud and his words are coming in waves. katsuki reaches down to flick at your pearl and your legs seize up around him as you babble mindlessly to appease him.

“yess, feels so good, so deep, ‘can feel you so deep inside, kats - ohh, right there, pleaseee,” you warble and katsuki lifts your right leg to his shoulder to get impossibly deeper inside you.

“fuck, can’t believe i went so long without this sweet pussy,” he grunts out and the feeling of you cunt spasming around him hits at 100mph. you become sloppier, wetter and katsuki finds himself being able to fuck you right to the base of his cock. then it hits him: you just came.

“did y’ just fucking come already? jesus, fuck, haven’- haven’t even properly fucked you yet. so dirty, baby,” katsuki moans out and you can’t hear a word he’s saying. your nails dig in deeper to his shoulder blades and the soles of your feet press into his back as you’re still coming down from your high.

“d’ya think you can go again f’me, princess?” your boyfriend asks politely but the way he asks is anything but polite as he’s already folding both your legs to place them on his shoulder as you’re pushed and manhandled into a mating press.

katsuki still hasn’t pulled out and his cock is throbbing inside you and he wants to cum so fucking badly. but the unshed tears in your eyes made his heart beat a little faster than usual and he would never want to push you past your limits.

“you alright to continue, y/n?” he asks sternly, his expression slightly worried and you amass all the strength your body will allow to pull him down and you link your arms around his neck.

“so serious, katsuki,” you joke, still a little out of breath and he rolls his eyes and stares down at you lovingly while your thumb brushes against his cheek.

“make me cum so hard ‘m seeing stars,” you whisper and katsuki growls as he pulls out and sheathes himself deep into you while you cry out.

“you get what you wish for, princess.”

katsuki places his hands on the back of your thighs and goes crazy at you; desperate for both your releases. the sound of skin and the wetness of your pussy echos in your bedroom and accompanied with the your gasps and cries, the sounds of the room were past the point of being just pornographic.

you swore you’d have his hands imprinted on the back of your thighs with the way he was groping them and with this position, you could feel everything so much more. he was so deep inside you and you swore you could feel him in your stomach as you writhed under him as your third climax of the night crept on you. you were already so sensitive from the last two and you knew this was the one that was going to wreck you.

“‘m so-o close, fuck, it feels like ‘m gonna make a mess,” you gasp, moving to wrap your arms around katsuki’s neck. you could tell from his tightly wound facial expressions that he was not too far off.

“y-yeah? make a fucking mess on me princess, f-fuck, cum all over me an’ i’ll give you everything i’ve got, baby,” he grunts and he slides an arm down between you both to thumb at your swollen clit and you seize at the feeling.

“‘s too much, katsuki, too - oh-oh, ‘m gonna,” you cry o out and you grab your boyfriend’s face, “pl-please kiss me, please,” you beg, pearly tears streaming down your face and katsuki moans out.

“anything for you, pretty,” he rumbles and he slots his mouth over yours as your orgasm hits at you in waves. katsuki can feel sprays of your release hit on his pelvis and his eyes roll back.

“that’s it, pretty girl, make a fuckin’ - make a fuckin’ mess on me,” katsuki kisses into your tongue before coming deep inside you and moaning out loudly as you kiss him back to goad him through his orgasm.

you both ride out your climaxes and your boyfriend watches where you’re both connected and he pulls out, hissing while you whimper and he eventually collapses on top of you. you hold him close to your chest as you match his breathing pattern. the silence is comforting and you scratch at the nape of his head and he opens an eye while his face is pressed into your tummy.

“you okay?” you ask katsuki and he wraps his arms tighter around your body as response but you’re not satisfied with that.

“use your words, baby,” you tease and katsuki playfully digs his teeth into your belly and you make a feeble attempt to push him away.

“should be asking you that instead. fucking squirted all over me,” katsuki chuckles and you gasp, lifting up your hands to hide behind them in embarrassment.

“god, that’s so embarrassing, i can’t believe i did that,” you say, all muffled but katsuki pulls your hands from your face and kisses at your palm.

“was sexy, baby. want you to do that every time we fuck,” he mumbles, nosing little kisses onto your chest and tummy. your boyfriend looks adorable like this: all fucked out, exhausted and glowy and you’re holding back the urge to ‘awwh’ at him while you pet and rub his face with your thumb.

“and i want you to get off me so i can shower. ‘m all gross and sweaty and sticky,” you complain, albeit lightheartedly and when you make the attempt to get up, the blond jumps up like he was never tired.

“sit your ass down and let me run us a bath. and i’ll know if you moved,” katsuki warns, walking to your bathroom in his naked glory and you laugh and before he exits the room, he turns to pass you a quizzical glance.

“nothing, it’s just, your butt is so cute. i can’t believe i never noticed it before!”

“y/n, so help me god, i’ll throw your dumbass into the bathtub,” yells your hot headed man and you giggle at his ‘threat’, watching him try to hide his butt from you as you go to follow him to the bathroom, disobeying his every rule.

so when mina and the bakusquad anyone asks you about your first time, you tell them it was something you waited dearly for and you wouldn’t change for the world.

“uh, kats? why did kiri just text asking if we finally ‘fucked and got it over with?’”

so maybe it wasn’t spontaneous for your boyfriend either. but it’s like you said-

“i will kill that red headed bastard,” yells out katsuki, grabbing his phone and throwing you over his shoulder as you squeal.

you wouldn’t really change a thing.

#bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #self indulgence at its finest #this was proofread let’s clap and cheer!#bakugou smut #bakugo smut #bnha bakugo smut #bakugou imagine #bakugo x reader #༝˚૮ .♡ katsuki.#moominsuki™#✎𓂃stamped: (my hero academia)。°˖⌕#✎𓂃uma thirsts。°˖⌕

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