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#will these two ever admit they love each other ? no one can be certain

plussizefantasia · 3 days

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Don't Cry Over Spilled Lemonade

Anthony Bridgerton x f!reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: None that I can think of, this is kinda angsty tho

A/N: Surprise post IG I wrote this in my notes app because I couldn't sleep so if there are spelling or grammar issues I'm sorry. let me know if you want a part two because I wouldn't mind continuing this.

Anthony adored how close you were to his siblings. You had become a close family friend ever since you defended Daphne against some creep at her first-ever ball out in society, it was your second season and you had taken it upon yourself to keep an eye on the diamond, looking out for her quietly in the background.

You weren’t going to intervene at all, just offer her some advice woman to woman if the need arose but when you saw Baron Taylor grab the redhead by the wrist you couldn’t hold back.

Anthony himself was only seconds away from coming to his sister's aid when you ‘accidently’ tripped into the man spilling your glass of lemonade down the front of his vest.

“Perhaps my Lord if we kept our hands to ourselves certain… interventions might’ve not had to happen. Don’t you think?” When Anthony had seen your raised eyebrow and defensive posture all aimed at the scumbag who dared lay a hand on his baby sister he couldn’t help but fall a little bit in love right then and there. Not that he’d ever admit it to himself or anyone else for that matter.

A day later Daphne had invited you to tea at their family house in order to thank you for the rescue and potentially make a new friend and ally within the marriage mart.

Ever since that day, you’d been a regular in his home, but you were never there for him as much as he’d have liked you to be. No, you were always there for one of his siblings. You were there to talk with Daphne, first about her counting of the duke and then slowly transitioning into how she felt about being a married woman and then a mother. He could also find you sketching in silence next to Benedict, the two of you after attending to draw the same scene and then critiquing each other's work when you were done. You would trade books and ideas with Eloise, listen to Fran play the piano while working on your embroidery, and the scenes which would warm his heart the most, you’d come around to chase after Greg and Hyancith playing with them in the gardens and keeping a watchful eye to make sure they stayed safe.

Anthony adored how close you were to his siblings, and he loathed how much of a distance there seemed to be between the two of you.

You were cold to the Viscount, you had been since the evening you came to Daphne’s rescue, he had attempted to give you his thanks and you had simply excused yourself, “My apologies my Lord but I seem to be down a glass of lemonade presently and I find myself to be quite parched, excuse me.” Your tone was cold and Anthony spent the rest of that night and the next two years trying to figure out what he possibly couldn’t done to make you so icy towards him.

“I do not understand it Ben, she is so kind and lovely to the rest of you but is like a stone wall when it comes to me, what could I be missing?”

“Perhaps she just doesn’t like you brother have you ever thought of that?” Benedict was too preoccupied with this still life to deal with his older brothers pining at the moment.

“That is not possible, I’ve done nothing but be the perfect gentleman to her.”

“Anthony I have no idea why dear Y/N does not like you but what exactly will you whining in my studio do about that?”

“I resent that. I am not whining I am simply asking my dearest brother for his advice on a matter I care very much about. I thought that was what brothers were for.”

“You want my advice, Anthony? Think. Think long and hard about what you want and how you’ll get it because Y/N has no patience for wishy-washy men.”

“That is horrible advice, Ben.”

“When then perhaps you can find better advice from your other brothers. Which will it be Anthony, the one who has been blindly in love with his best friend for years, or the ten-year-old?”

“I hate it when you’re right.”

“I know. Now leave, that storm cloud above your head is casting shadows on my fruit.” Ben pointed his paintbrush at the bowl of fruit balanced atop a stool. Anthony huffed and knowing that it would bother his brother, he grabbed the apple off the top of the pile and took a bite of it as he strode out of the room

Ben had told him to think, but Anthony didn’t know what to think about. He knew that he craved your attention. He knew that he enjoyed seeing you around his house, interacting with the people whom he loves. He enjoyed hearing your witty comebacks and the way that even if you were not doing anything in particular you still fill the space you’re in.

He wanted her in his life, and if he was being completely honest with himself he wanted more than that.

It’s during his musing that he runs into her in the hallway, you have a book clutched within your hand, and your head is held high. You don’t stop your stride even though he knows that you saw him. He bites his lip and tampers down a smirk. Add another thing to that list of things he likes about you, you have fire, he just wished that it wasn’t always aimed at him.

“Lady, L/N which one of my dear siblings are you spending your day with today?” He attempts to match his pace with yours catching up to you so that the two of you walk shoulder and shoulder.

“Actually, Lord Bridgerton, I was having tea with your mother this afternoon she invited me over so we could discuss what to do about Frannie’s debut next season.”

This was not something that normal family friends do, you know that and he knows that. His sibling’s entrances into society are a matter which the viscountess must handle, something his mother has had to continue to do because of his lack of a wife.

“That was very kind of you to help her with.”

“Well, she doesn’t have anyone else to help her.” Your words cut him down, not for the first time.

“Lady L/N may I be frank?”

“It is your home, you may do as you please.” You turn to face him, your face a mask of indifference.

“What have I done to cross you, for the longest time I have known you you have been cold to me and I do not understand why?”

“I had figured that you did not remember, either that or you had purposely forgone trying to speak with me about it.”

“About what?”

“Our first meeting My Lord.”

“I remember our first meeting very clearly, it is one of my fondest memories seeing you stand up for Daphne and ruin Lord Taylor’s vest.” He tilts his head to the side and smiles at the memory.

“That was not the first time we met My Lord, the first time we met you snubbed me in front of the entire ton and sparked rumors that did not leave me until two seasons later.” She was harsh in her words and the tightness in her shoulder’s belayed her desire to flee.

Anthony was speechless, surely he had not? He would’ve remembered her, would’ve remembered turning down one of the most beautiful women he had ever met, intentionally or otherwise.

“I- I beg your deepest forgiveness Y/N I do not remember and if I had I would’ve tried to make it up to you tenfold by now.”

Your eyes began to gloss over and you looked at the wall beside his head, “It was my first season out, Lady Danbury’s ball, and I had seen you standing there surrounded by other gentleman. I had thought you a very fine figure and despite the rumor mill telling me you were nothing but a rake I had tried to begin a conversation. All you did was turn to me and laugh. I wasn’t asked to dance for the entire rest of that season and it was only until my Mother forced the son of one of her garden party friends to dance with me was that streak broken. You were the first and only man I had ever attempted to pursue and you laughed in my face. Were it not for my deep need to help those I see in need I would never have talked to you or any member of the Bridgerton family for the rest of my life.”

“You must know that I regret that, I regret everything I have ever done to hurt you and I will spend the rest of my days working for your forgiveness.” If Anthony was a weaker man he would’ve fallen to his knees and begged for your forgiveness until his last breath, right there in the hallways of his family’s home.

“I appreciate your words Anthony, but that’s all they are… words. I am unmarried, one year from becoming a spinster in the eyes of the entire ton, and you, you are the only one I can blame.” You don’t wait for his reply, just stalking off and wiping the tears from your eyes.

Anthony resolved himself in that moment. He would do whatever it took to make it up to you, to bring a smile to your face, and to cast away the hurt he had caused.

#anthony bridgerton x plus size reader #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #bridgerton imagine #x reader #fanfic #bridgerton fanfiction #plus size reader #plus size!reader #drabble #requests open #requests wanted #bridgerton

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kanmom51 · 3 days

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This one is kind of personal and a lot mushy

(And as I'm writing this, a bit of a rant as well)

*Be advised.😅

Been a bit.

Well, I was kind of busy. On one of those 'once in a lifetime' trips you take to celebrate a big one, this one being my 30th wedding anniversary.

And while I was on this trip (and I am sure to share some pics, cause why not, seeing we got some spectacular ones) I got to thinking about Jikook. Because, who doesn't think about Jikook on their 30th anniversary trip, right?

Let's be real for a sec. Who doesn't think about Jikook ALL THE DAMN TIME?

Obsessed much?

Hell yeah!!!😂

Proudly admitting it!!

Look at those two:

Can you seriously blame me?

Nah, but seriously.

I couldn't help but think about who I am, where I've come from, how my partner and myself came to be, our love and respect for each other, how we fought through everything life swings at you and how our love not only survived all of it but seems to have flourished even more. I can honestly say that I love my husband today even more than I did when we got married. It's a different kind of love. A mature love. A love that survived many trials and tribulations. Some you know of when you tie the knot but many more you don't expect.

And thinking of us I couldn't help but think about those two young men and how they met, what brought them together, how they connected, how they have been through so much together, the hardships, the struggles, the amazingly good and the terribly bad, all making their bond even stronger.

There are those that cannot fathom how 2 young beautiful talented men could be in a committed relationship when they have this whole smorgasbord of beautiful people just wanting to lay a hand on them. Everyone wants a piece of them and here they are in a committed relationship with each other? A long term committed relationship? How ever could that be?

When you love someone to the core, which is exactly how those two feel (people can deny it all they want, but it won't change the facts, these two have chosen each other every single time over anything and anyone else), when you get to know that one person and fall deeply in love with them, know their ins and outs, know their flaws and issues, seen them at their best and at their worst. When they are happy or sad, healthy or sick, elated or furious, and find them attractive through and through, still want to be by their side.

No.

Need to be by their side.

Want to be there when they are happy, share their joy, but also be there when they are sad or down and stand by their side to support them through it (even with and despite all those flaws and issues and difficulties that at times can also infuriate you and basically make you want to ring their necks at certain points in time) there is no love (between partners) deeper than that.

I do know, we all should, that what they experienced and how they are living cannot be compared to us regular folk. Their circumstances are such that they have to deal not only with an industry and society that deems them as 'wrong' (that includes a big chunk of their own fandom btw), but also a lifestyle that is nothing like the one we know or have experienced. The hours, the cameras in their faces close to 24/7 (up until their break and hiatus and even prior to that during the pandemic - which btw is one of the reasons people have gone mad at that point given we stopped getting an influx of BTS content for such a long time), growing up and maturing in the limelight, enjoying the fame and exposure at first and then fighting for privacy and 'anonymity' when you realize there is a price to that fame. None of us have experienced that. Yes, we can find the similarities and by extension make conclusions about them, but at the same time we always need to remember that their lives are different than ours and that we cannot always hold them to the same standards of behavior that we are used to in our own lives and relationships.

This is beside the point that every relationship is different. I will just say this. A healthy long term relationship is built on 2 or more (I ain't judging) individuals that stand as their own person and chose to be with the other/s. They don't necessary have to have the exact same interests or likes. What they do need is to love, respect, trust each other and understand that part of that is allowing your significant other to do what they love, even if it means doing it without you. Even if it means doing it with someone else. You all know where I'm getting with this right? Going out with others, travelling with others, drinking with others, spending time with others, choosing to spend time alone without your significant other, none of them diminish from your relationship if indeed it's building blocks are solid. And brace yourselves (well, those that are in long term relationships know this already...), but all of the above actually helps maintain your relationship. Can make it better and stronger.

I've been lurking a little on SM, even while away, only to find that once again, or should I say still (surprise surprise... NOT) there are those that are doubting the bond that these two young men have. It's solos and cultists trying to create an alternative universe in which JK and JM are not close and even distanced (some would love for them to actually hate each other - good luck with that psychos). Or it's once again those insecure 'Jikookers' that seem to need that constant affirmation from a real life queer couple that most certainly will not be giving them that. I keep asking myself why is it that a couple like JM and JK need to constantly prove they are together (all while they actually can't come out and say it due to their circumstances - industry and society they live in), when a heterosexual couple, say Zendaya and Tom, for example, are not expected to? How come a blurry clip (which I still say is fake) released at a very suspicious point in time, together with other obviously edited clips and serious claims of misconduct that are clearly made up and were intended to cause JK harm, have more of an impact on them than years and years of interactions, talk, actions (including just before the clip was released and after it as well)? And now another blurry clip that people are going all crazy over. Like seriously, what is wrong with people? Is the lack of content driven them mad? No drama so we need to create it? Well, thing is that when you are in a healthy committed long term relationship there is not much drama. That's the way it is when you are settled and happy and know who you are and who you love and know that they feel the same about you. Arguments, disagreements, bad days - sure. That's life. But at the end of the day if people want drama they should go watch one on TV.

So, how do I put it to make is as clear as possible?

These insecurities we get from some of the fans, they work like clockwork. Every single time, in the past, when we didn't get much from the two there were these whispers and question marks regarding their relationship. Not even if they are still together, but down to the core of their bond, as to even question if they are close or friends. This phenomenon goes way back.

But since end of 2021 beginning of 2022, when they were on their break and later the hiatus into 2023 it blew up like a full on hydrogen bomb.

This got worse after they were assigned their own 'personal' IG accounts and went on their break.

The misconception by many that these accounts were somehow their private accounts that they use to interact with each other, I can't call it anything other than delusional. Sorry not sorry. And if people did not realize that themselves if only from the lack of posting or interaction with whoever, then we had the members themselves telling us that they regularly interact within their own private chat groups. That photos shared on IG with us have been previously shared with the others in those groups. These IG accounts were created to maintain contact between the members and their fans, knowing that the group is going into hiatus and that they will each be promoting their own individual solo projects. Yes, the group Twitter (X) account could be used for that, but there was an attempt to create a more 'personal' connection between each member and Army. These accounts were work, as simple as that, and them reacting to other members or talking with each other through these accounts was not an indication what so ever to whether they were in touch or not otherwise.

At the time, back in early 2022, when people were reeling over the lack of interaction between the two on their IG accounts I tried to explain that a. not seeing something most definitely does not mean it's not there (something those two made sure to prove time and time again over the past couple of years), and b. that the lack of interaction can actually be an indication to them spending most of their time together, as there is no need to comment on another's post when you are right there to tell them whatever it is you want to tell them to their face. Not to mention, and this part is all me, so take or leave it as you will, but some of said IG posts, well, how do I put it? I guess I just say it as it is... some of these photos posted were either taken by the other or they were right there or really near by when it was taken. There. I said it. In any case, the fact that these were the only two not to interact with each other in front of Army's face, out of the whole group, that, to me, meant they were the ones spending most of the time together.

Oh, and let's just address the whole fanservice stupidity surrounding those two once and for all.

If they were all about fanservice, how is it that since that during the break in 2021-2022 and then during the hiatus and their solo endeavors, we were robbed of said fanservice? Wouldn't you expect that the fanservice couple, the scripted couple, be pushed during each other's promotions? How is it that we have seen during these periods of promotions every single other coupling other than JM and JK. Even JK visiting JM during his rehearsals was heavily edited. How come, if we are being sold a fake bond? No JK being forced to go visit JM when performing at the music shows. No JM being forced to do the same with JK. JM paired with Suga for an add for Busan (? that one was really an odd one for me). When did we see them? So yeah, people can scream fanservice all they want, but deep down inside they know it's a crap claim. I won't even go into JK's lives. There was not one ingenuine bone in his body, and that excitement seeing JM's comments, that coquettish behavior while interacting with him (especially during the bed live, OMG!!!), the reactions to the JM centered content he CHOSE to watch during those lives, none of that is scripted nor acted. It's all JK. All him. And JM's reaction when JK shows up at his documentary viewing live, that little butt wiggle in his chair (reminds me of Bam when happy to see his dad/s, as shown by JK), the face lighting up, the genuine worry on his face talking about JK working hard (during another couple of lives), again, not faked.

So yeah, not fanservice.

I digressed, I think.

Let's get back to 2022 why don't we?

On their break these crazy stories of heartbreak and breakup and hate and suffering and god knows what, only all to be thrown out of the window as soon as we got to see the two together again during the Seoul concerts and then LV. Oh LV. That was a wild ride.

Then BTS went on hiatus and the solo era began. And we were getting less and less ot7 content, and once again the insecurities. These ups and downs (you know, the whole JITB party stories about them not being together - that was countered by the BTB that followed a while after), then Busan concert's high, then 2023's downs and ups and downs and ups and fruck it all, I'm sea sick from this stupidity.

Same exact stories were repeated in 2023!!!

Especially after THE CLIP "which shall not be named" dropped.

SAME EXACT TO THE T STORIES!!!

But again, I digress.

Insecurity regarding the two and their bond (seeing they aren't in the public eye) followed by realization that everything is as it was (if not even better and stronger) once we see them together again. And the reason we don't see them together while on break... wait for it... is because they are a private couple living their everyday life, not for the cameras, not for Army, but for THEMSELVES.

Who would have thought.

And when they are together, as in working together, either filming or shooting or performing, well their bond can't be hidden, as much as they might have to wind it down at times (which is mainly not when they are on stage hyped up on adrenaline, lol), seeing that this is still Kpop, with fandoms that feel ownership over them, not to mention them being a queer couple. You know. All the usual reasons.

This idea people have that these two owe us something. That they constantly have to prove their bond, their connection, their relationship. What utter bull.

Anyway, what a slap in the face (for some a good wake up call, for others a well deserved one) the news of them choosing to enlist together was for so many.

Bottom line is, repeated for the millionth time, that these two young men have shown us time and time again that when push comes to shove they will chose one another!!!

I feel like I'm all over the place here. Came to talk about my trip and ended up talking about fanservice and insecurity and god knows what. I guess it's the jetlag (yeah, let's go with that and blame it on the jetlag).

In any case I will go with my favorite saying as of late:

Why this whole long word vomit, you may ask (or you might not ask, who knows, lol)?

What the hell does this have to do with my trip?

Nothing...?

Probably, lol.

But I am going to try to connect the dots. Even if they did make sense in my mind when I first started writing this post and no longer do...

How about the fact that the two chose to take these trips together?

See how I did that? Connecting the unconnected?

Not even going to ask the egg-chicken question here, as I am quite positive it was always about the trips and the show/content for army was the excuse that allowed them to travel 'for work', and a little bonus of content for army when they are away - not to mention perhaps even an opportunity for a soft outing, who knows.

They wanted to spend this time together before enlistment.

We know of at least 3 trips. Connecticut, Jeju and Japan (the Jeju trip may or may not be part of that 'show').

We are yet to know what exactly this 'show' will be. Will it be an actual show, style BV or ITS? Will it be a Vlog? Will we be getting actual episodes or several minute clips? But one thing for sure. Whatever we get, it will be a drop in a lake of the time they spent together. They went on these trips to be together. They shot this 'show' to allow them to be on these trips. This 'show' will give us a glimpse, no more than that, of what they got up to while together. Bottom line - it's about them, not the show and definitley not us.

So yeah, tripping together (lol, as in traveling, just felt like using that fun word, which can mean so much more as well) is something couples love to do, and going on said trips prior to a huge life changing event (let's be real here, going into the military for 18 months, especially knowing that to be able to enlist TOGETHER, they will be placed in one of the harsher units and environments, knowing that even though they will be together they most certainly will not have the freedoms they enjoy prior to enlistment), well that is something they would do as well.

To sum this whole rant up:

I came here to show off some pics from my trip...

If Jikook are allowed to (and god help them all if we don't get that show eventually...), then so am I...

The scenery...

And the wild life

So there you have it.

I managed to talk about my trip and about Jikook all in one long ranty post.

To those that managed to work their way through it I have this to say:

#jikook #kookmin #minkook #jungkook #jimin #jk #jm

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godborn · 3 months

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💪

source : prompted / status : selectively accepting .

intention governs giorno’s life ; rarely does he perform any action without first gauging its range of consequence , weighing every possible outcome on a scale & calculating the precise angle at which it skews . he cannot afford to make mistakes , & this has been true as long as he can remember ━━━━ housed within the abyss of his elusive & untouchable core , a wounded child still quivers at the threat of earning his step - father’s wrath , though he often finds himself caught in that bear trap whether he can fathom a ‘ reason ’ or not .

years have passed since he gazed upon the interior of that rotten home , yet its position as something of a foundation for the way he operates cannot be disputed ; though the fear has beaten itself into aureate armor , though he exhibits an unthinkable power only bolstered by the height at which he holds his own head , there lies a tenderness in him that he guards with vehemence . never again will he allow that battered boy to be victimized .

even now , as the boy man who owns italy , every twitch of a finger & bat of an eyelash must amount to greatness . an entire population relies on him , entire crime ecosystems desire his demise , & a new dream beams down on him like apollo himself illuminating the path forward . for all he has sacrificed , all he has lost , the only option is to ensure he can uphold the causes for which their lives had been torn asunder . it is all he ever thinks about , now ; the ways in which he can atone .

the onus of rebuilding a society & the crushing weight of grief do not quite evaporate when he returns to his father’s house , but there is a sense of reprieve to be grasped amid the cold darkness of the manor . pockets of warmth envelop him upon reuniting with his siblings & greeting faces that have watched him grow since he’d been removed from the broken cradle of his mother’s neglect & his step - father’s violence , & though giorno rarely appears these days , far too occupied with his responsibilities across the mediterranean , in a bizarre , almost twisted sort of way , this place where many have suffered feels like home . perhaps it lies in the reality that , for once , he was not the one at risk .

still , giorno makes no habit of letting his guard down . though his father had never lifted a finger against him , he knows what he is capable of , & knows that he is the source of the vicious darkness that permeates giorno’s very existence ; that , despite his golden heart & reverence for life , has always been there ━━━━ threatening to overpower his true nature , but since finding harmony with it instead . infinitely , it is part of him , his father is part of him , yet giorno knows himself well enough to discern that they will never be the same . his refusal to unhinge himself from his humanity & descend into the calculated depravity wherein his father dwells places a certain strain on their relationship , but it is not so intense that it unravels whatever love is there . it only makes it [ . . . ] complex .

hence , his state of forgone consciousness does not immediately register alarm when a presence joins him in the study . gold experience requiem does not emerge on its own accord , prepared to loosen the threads of reality itself to ensure giorno’s preservation . his blood does not run cold , his body does not tense . he can feel that it is his father , just as he has always felt him there , even when he wasn’t .

never would giorno giovanna fall asleep some place other than his heavily secured bedroom back at his estate in napoli , or a similar arrangement in some other location where business calls . never but now , for this is an exception ━━━━ a rarity wherein the exhaustion of his demanding life is allowed to catch up to him & whisk him off to rest under the promise that everything will be okay . those words hardly sound right , grating against his armored conscience like a legion of cicadas outside his mother’s old apartment in japan . but he believes them . thus , he is tucked into his father’s chair , half - consumed literature strewn across his lap & between his dainty hands , less than aware of how small he must look there .

all too quickly , his position changes ━━━━ almost as if he is floating , but somehow grounded just the same , secured against something solid & teeming with life , despite being cold to the touch ; treelike , he muses . bewilderment tugs at the edges of somnolence , but giorno does not fully awaken . contrarily , he relaxes more , a head of golden hair coming to rest against the unexpectedly plush surface of whatever holds him . by the time he recognizes that distinct blend of scents ; egyptian musk , fermented red wine , the iron of blood , he registers movement carrying him out of the room , & the part of giorno’s brain that is always on realizes what is happening .

a delicate smile curves lips ever so stoic , perpetually trained into an expression of illegible disinterest . giorno is warm against his father’s algid skin , & perhaps it is him that transfers the sensation ; the residual heat giorno carries from the caresses of daylight are the most his father will ever feel the sun without recoiling in pain .

ease flowers at giorno’s core , & for once , he does not recoil when touched , either .

#rejectshumanity #[ 春 ] : 🌸 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 › brando clan .#[ 春 ] : 🌸 𝐝𝐨𝐜𝐮𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 › prompted answers .#i know this is kinda cheating since giorno is not fully awake but u know what . sue me #i was actually going to make this an angsty scenario but i was like you know what . No #these two deserve to have at least one (1) wholesome & tender moment #also giorno WILL deny that this ever happened for the rest of his life but that's not the point #will these two ever admit they love each other ? no one can be certain #but dio can have some good dad moments ig dsjhbhcjffbhjf

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anantaru · 2 months

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⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ i like the way you kiss me, i can tell you miss me

synopsis. ⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ your ex boyfriend childe recently found out that you've been seeing another guy lately. // ꒰ᐢ⸝⸝⸝⸝ᐢ꒱ ♡

cw. jealous! childe, rough & needy, exes missing each other but not admitting it, hinted at a previous toxic relationship between you two, fem! reader ♡

"did he touch you like this?" childe mumbles against your ear as his hand slowly slid over your curves, touching your body.

the impact this brazen question had on you made your body shudder in embarrassment, not only that but you could feel your own blood being forced to frenziedly race through your shape with every new drag of his cock dashing ripples of glee into you.

he knows what he's doing, he's planned this.

the harbinger knows everything apparently, or perhaps he's actually made up an entire different story to what he thought happened on your date.

he cups your cheek and runs his thumb across your bottom lip reverently, "or was he rougher?" slower?" he taunts, and there's an instant jolt of pride up the harbinger's spine when he notices how you're embarrassingly averting his satisfied gaze.

he hasn't lost his grip on you yet, he's sure of it, and he welcomed that you're so easy to read, to the point where you'd choke on a cry consistently, more so when he rushed through that one spot he would never forget to stimulate.

"w-why does it matter?" your words come out quicker than your mind could've properly processed them as you whimper out wetly to him.

you quirk up a brow, feeling a tender hold of confidence aid your frame, "aah— it's not like we're dating anymore or anything,"

that breathy, almost belittling laugh that tumbled over your parted mouth reached his heart, fracturing his vitality.

"we're broken up, ajax, please," you shuffle your arms around his neck before abruptly pulling him towards you, so your lips could brush against his ear shell as you whisper seductively;

"i can fuck whoever i want,"

tilting his head, instead of falling for it, childe confidently cocks a brow before planting a wet kiss on your cheek, "huh? archons, what a mouth you got on yourself," as he spreads, burns and dominates your glistening walls until he's certain you're where he needed you to be— vulnerable to him, perhaps even admitting the truth and stopping your bratty mouth to spill anymore wrongs.

"come on, will you? come on," he laughs manically, his hips jerking hard enough to knock the breath from your lungs as your breasts bounce in tandem with his ruthless thrust, "don't pretend like he'll ever catch up to me, fuck— baby..." he grinds deeper, watching how a nasty ring of white covers the majority of his base.

you roll your eyes but know he's right— because no one could ever unlock the love you've had for ajax before you two had broken up. those rough hands of his were your everything, in comparison to how he used them against his enemies, towards you, he wielded them lightly.

you squeeze and squeeze him, practically telling him that yes, you've missed him so much but no, you're not willing to ever get in a relationship with him again. for that, you've put in too much work already to forget about ajax, the man you loved so unconditionally.

"doesn't matter," your voice echos like a soft whimper as you hug him, desperately wanting to feel how all his inches were painfully throbbing while squeezed by your walls, "we. don't. work." concurrently to his sultry rolls, you pant out a crushing reality.

childe didn't want to hear that, not now, not ever again.

he pushes inside and groans out hot against your ear, before forcing himself to move his hips slower, despite the expanded lust inside of him wanting to slam right into you, fuck— the harbinger was aggravated, frustrated and saddened at the same time. not because of you, yet due to the fact that primarily, it was his fault that things ended on how they did.

a candid confession should never find its way inside of a situation this unrepeatable, "i love you," he whines, his cock plunging with passion as if to emphasize his spelled out words.

your mouth opens instantly for a rebuttal as he swiftly runs a hand down your breasts, pinching your nipples, desperate to swallow up your mewls and keep them stored within him.

foreheads pressed against each other, no words said out loud.

childe regrets everything right now, because you are just his everything, his all.

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin Impact smut #childe x reader #childe smut #childe x you #genshin x you #genshin impact x you

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ickadori · 6 months

Text

++ 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘

[summary] wriothesley has noticed a change in your behavior towards him, and thinking the worst, he keeps himself busy in the fortress of meropide as he awaits your certain rejection. instead, he learns that you had the notion in your head that he could ever love anyone else besides you, and proceeds to clear your head of such silly thoughts.

[cws] fem reader -> wrio’s wife. angst to comfort to smut. oral. minor overstimulation. wrio is in his feelings, heavily. reader thought wrio was interested in clorinde. wrio thinks he isn’t good enough for you -> self doubt/self degradation. 3.4k

Somewhere along the line, Wriothesley had messed up.

This wouldn’t have been an issue in and of itself — Wriothesley’s life had been riddled with his mistakes ever since he was a teen, after all, one after the other just piling up— he always took responsibility for his shortcomings, his oversights, his negligence, especially when it came to you.

He was always the first to admit that he wasn’t perfect, and always the first to apologize for it, fully believing that you deserved nothing short of it. But this time, he wasn’t sure exactly what he should apologize for. To him, he had been doing everything right recently.

Things between you two had been peaceful, jovial, full of shared love and happiness… or maybe that had been entirely on his end. Maybe his unrelenting love for you had somehow managed to overshadow your distaste, your unhappiness, your subtle clues hinting towards what the problem was.

Maybe your loving grace had finally run out — you had finally matured and realized that you could so much better than being tied down to a man littered with scars so deep that they allowed you to see what he was really made of; something murky and dark and wholly unfitting to be so close to someone such as yourself.

If that were the case, and you had finally come to your senses and were regretting allowing him to slip that ring onto your finger, were regretting all the hushed declarations of love whispered to each other in the early hours of the morning, regretting all the times you had given yourself to him, allowed him to be the first to touch you and promised him that he’d be the last, then he would let you go.

All Wriothesley ever wanted in life was to see you happy. He had hoped it would be with him, that he’d be able to turn to face you in bed and not have a doubt in his mind that you were and content by his side, the truth reflected in your eyes. But if he couldn’t have that, have you, then… he had lost before and made it, scathed but alive, and he could surely do it again.

He first noticed a change after the gates holding the Primordial waters were broken. The two of you had been in his office - you taking on the arduous task of organizing his books, while he had been nose deep in a pile of paperwork that he had neglected for far too long.

The sirens blaring had sent the both of you into a frozen stupor, you in disbelief and him in horror, but he had broken out of his quickly. He had rounded his desk and taken your arm, quickly leading you down the stairs and out of the door to his office. He had told you to leave, go to safety, go to Neuvillette, and when you had opened your mouth to protest, he had kissed you in earnest and pushed you through the door before shutting it behind you.

After the crisis had been averted, Neuvillette’s seal holding back the waters for just a bit longer, he had sought you out immediately. He found you in your shared home curled up in bed, his pillow clutched to your chest as tears wet your cheeks.

Wriothesley calls your name, his voice raspy and winded, a result of all the running and panicking he had done in his desperation to find you.

Your head snaps up in an instant, puffy eyes moving to him, and he can see the relief in your face; eyes getting a bit of their light back, lips turning up a bit from where they previously fixed in an open sob. “Wrio,” you cry, and then he’s on you, the bed dipping underneath the added weight as he covers you with his body, arms winding around you tight as he holds you, basking in what the waters tried to steal away from him.

The two of you had made love that same night, if you could really call it that. He had pressed himself into your heat, bodies tightly pressed together, and had rocked into you while he whispered his fears against your shoulder and you cried yours into the crook of his neck. Neither of you had come, the high emotions of the day blocking off the path to that blinding bliss, but it hadn’t been any less pleasurable or special.

It had brought Wriothesley closer to you — the act of nearly losing you had solidified that he’d be lost without you. That a part of him would be forever broken beyond repair if you were to no longer be by his side.

With how you’ve been acting as of recent, he guesses the opposite could be said for you. Perhaps the experience had forced you to see your regrets in life; him, and perhaps you were mulling over what to do in your head.

Wriothesley sighs, calloused hands moving to sift through his hair as he tries to fight off the throbbing at his temples. The headaches came back with a vengeance each day, Sigewinne’s remedies doing next to nothing to alleviate him of his misery.

He’s been down in the Fortress of Meropide for days now, not able to stomach your off-standish behavior for too long lest he break down at your feet and beg for forgiveness that he never deserved in the first place. You weren’t cruel to him, he doubts that you could be cruel to anyone, no matter their sin, but you were different.

His appearance didn’t bring forth the blinding smile it once did before, but rather a more muted one, a placid one. You didn’t rush him and drown him with your kisses, but rather pressed a fleeting one to his lips before skirting off somewhere. You didn’t curl into his side at night, your legs tangled together while you told him about your day until you eventually drifted off, but instead kept your back to him while you made sure to stay on your side.

It was the small things that crushed him, threatened to grind him into dust and let the wind blow him away, so instead of seeing his demise unfold before him, he decided to be ignorant and lock himself away underneath the sea.

There’s a heavy knock at his office door, and he wants to delude himself into thinking you’ve come for a visit, the past few weeks having never happened, but you had never been one to knock, instead slipping inside and bounding up the steps with a sweet call of his name on your lips.

“Come in.” He calls, not bothering to straighten out his shirt or smooth his hair down as he listens to the ‘clink’ ‘clink’ of a pair of heels ascending the stairs.

“Wriothesley.”

“Clorinde.” He greets, eyes moving to her in lazy acknowledgment before settling on a chip in his desk. “I thought I told you last time that your recurring presence wasn’t needed. The seal will buy us some time, and the Harbinger still hasn’t returned. It wouldn’t be entirely wrong to assume him as dead.”

Wriothesley held deep respect for Clorinde and her fighting prowess, and the two had even shared a few cups of tea and held casual conversation, but there was only one person that he wanted to see in this moment, and it certainly wasn’t her.

“I’m not here on business.”

“I’m not in the mood to entertain.”

“Oh, I’m not here to make idle talk with you either — I’d get more of a conversation out of a bloated corpse before I got one out of you.” He looks at her, tongue prodding at his cheek. “I’m here on the behalf of your wife.”

He perks up at that, eyes growing alert and heart stuttering in his chest as he begins to rise out of his seat. “Is something wrong? Is she alright? Where is she?” Clorinde lowers herself into the chair on the opposite side of his desk, not a hint of urgency in her face, and Wriothesley wants to reach across the desk and shake her words out of her. “Did something happen?”

“Nothing that requires your current level of panic.” She softly shakes her head, a rare flash of amusement shining in her eyes. “She’s safe, a bit misconstrued, but entirely safe. She’s currently in the Palais Mermonia lamenting to Neuvillette about how her husband no longer loves her.”

“…that’s absurd.” Utterly absurd, completely inconceivable. He didn’t love you? He breathed for you, lived for you. “That’s absurd.”

“Neuvillette told her as much. But she’s convinced that your gaze has wandered to another.”

“What? I don’t— I’ve never looked at anyone else besides her.” The pure truth. You had stolen his undivided attention from the moment he first saw you and had refused to let it loose. He thought about you when he woke up, as he went about his duties, as he sat down to take a break, as he strolled the dark, cold halls of Meropide and wished he had your touch to warm him up, you, always you, only you.

“My frequent appearances in the Fortress of Meropide may have contributed to that notion.” Wriothesley blinks, rusty gears in his head churning as he tries to think. You had been acting strange ever since the gate failed, and Clorinde had been a recurring visitor ever since. She had helped him hold off the water and the damage had been minimal, but the situation still needed to be closely monitored, and he had already had his hands full with trying to get the prison back in the swing of things, so he had left that aspect to her.

He remembers now — your impromptu visits. You’d carve out pieces of your day to come and see him, only to be met with the sight of him in conversation with Clorinde, the both of them completely engaged as they mulled over the situation. Wriothesley would turn his attention to you the moment he noticed you, would greet you as he always did, but maybe… maybe it wasn’t how he always did. Maybe he was a bit shorter, a bit impatient, a bit dismissive, a bit frustrated, a bit cold.

The crisis had been weighing heavy on him since he first found out about it all those years ago, but when it was suddenly surging forward and threatening to take what he loved most, it had threatened to crush him flat, and he had tried to adapt.

Perhaps he was the one that had changed.

He’s out of his office before Clorinde can say another word, a quick glance between them solidifying an agreement that she’d take his place while he was away, and then he’s on his way to the surface, cursing himself as he goes.

He knew he had been the cause of your sudden change, and he had mulled over it in his mind day after day as he tried to figure out why. To think that it was because you thought he could ever be with anyone else after you had given him your love—he was addicted to you and everything you had to offer, to the way you made him feel, to how you treated him so gently when all he had known was cruelty and hardship.

He’s at the Palais Mermonia in record timing, and he leaves a slew of startled Fontanian’s in his wake — the Duke of Meropide racing through the streets to bare himself at his wife’s feet, he’s sure he’s made quite the sight. Hopefully, Gods willing, the two of you can laugh at the newspaper in the morning while you lay in bed, together.

Wriothesley rarely makes trips to Neuvillette’s office, but he’s always been welcomed, and he’s grateful for that when he’s not stopped by one of the many Melusines stationed around.

As he nears the door he hears your voice, and the soft sound washes over him like a gentle wave; refreshing, dizzying, suffocating. The sound of your unmistakable cry is the complete opposite, and he bursts into the room, chest heaving as he looks to where you’re sitting in front of Neuvillette’s desk, your head lowered into your hands while he quietly watches you.

The door loudly knocks against the wall, the commotion causing a hush to fall over the room, and he waits with bated breath as you lift your head and turn to see the cause of the disturbance. Your eyes widen when you see him, lids puffy from your crying, lips parting and hands tightening around the armrests of your chair.

“Wrio,” you call his name, softly, tenderly, and he calls yours doubly so. “What are you doing here?” It feels as if it takes an eternity for him to cross the room, when in reality it probably only took a few seconds at best, and he turns your chair around so you’re facing him, the legs scraping against the floor as he does. “Wriothesley?”

“I’ll leave the two of you alone to speak.” Neuvillette’s exit is swift, the door shutting behind him softly, and Wriothesley moves his hands to cup your face as he lowers himself down to his knees, thumbs wiping away the last few tears. You lean into his touch, your own hands tightly clasped together in your lap, and he catches your eyes, wishing that he could tear himself open and show you the way you’ve etched yourself into his heart.

“Wrio—” He moves his thumb so it’s covering your lips, the digit gently stroking the slightly chapped skin there. He gives you a gentle smile as he looks up at you.

“You’ve been doubting me.” Your eyes widen before you drop them to your lap. “That’s why you’ve been acting so unsure. I thought… I thought you had finally grown tired of me.” That look of bewilderment, much like the one he had when Clorinde first revealed your feelings to him, flashes through your eyes as you look at him. “That you finally realized that I could never give you what you truly deserved; everything.”

“Wriothesley,” you try, and he quietly hushes you, a lump building up in his throat that he has to fight hard to swallow down.

“I didn’t do a good enough job showing you just how much you affect me; mind, body and soul. There’s no other that could over compare, that could ever touch me in the way that you have. You are my beginning and my end, the only woman I ever have, and ever will, love.” His fingers are wet with your tears. “You own me completely — you don’t have to ever worry about my attention drifting elsewhere, and I apologize for ever making you think that it ever could.”

His words are spoken with the utmost sincerity, voice raw and unfiltered, and he prays that his love for you bleeds into his words, prays that you can grasp the full extent of how much he cares for you, adores you, utterly worships you as if you were a Goddess yourself.

Your voice cracks as you call his name, eyes once again filled with tears, and he leans forward to kiss your eyelids. “I love you,” the declaration makes his heart soar. “I love you so much. I’m sorry for thinking—”

His lips push against yours, chapped and bitten raw from days of worrying, and yours are in no better condition. He pulls away just to plant another kiss at the corner of your mouth, breath puffing against your face as he nose rubs against yours, foreheads pressed together and eyes locked onto one another’s.

“You don’t need to apologize for your feelings. Ever.” He kisses you again, this one more frenzied and heated than the last, and the both of you only part when your need for air outweighs the need to stay connected. “Gods, you just don’t know how much I’ve missed you — can I show you?”

His hand glides down to the slope of your neck, over the curve of your shoulder, down your shoulder to gently squeeze at your hand, and settles on your hip, fingers sinking into the flesh through your clothing.

“Show me?” You breathily ask, and he smiles against your skin, eyes muddled and heated as he hums. “Show me what?”

“Show you how this body of mine belongs to you and you only.”

“…show me.”

Wriothesley couldn’t help but be a bit selfish first.

The both of your clothes have been discarded somewhere in the office, and he’s laid you back against the blue, plush couch, his hands keeping your thighs up and out of the way as he’s got his mouth latched onto your cunt.

He can’t recall how long he’s been between your legs; kissing, licking, sucking, slurping, but he knows he’s pulled two orgasms out of you, your slick coating his face, even dripping off his chin in long, stretched out lines as he tries to get more.

His hands tighten on you as he wraps his lips around your twitching clit and suckles, hazy eyes blinking open to travel up your body. He starts at the pudge of stomach that’s littered with his marks, then up to your heaving breasts that’re decorated as well, nipples puffy and swollen from the treatment he had given them earlier, further is your lips, spit-shined from his fervent kissing, and finally is your eyes, which gaze down at him as you cry out.

A molten heat swirls in his gut as he drags his tongue down through your folds, letting it seek out your clenching hole before pushing inside with a dizzying squelch, nose nuzzled up against your clit as he fucks his tongue into you.

You squirm and twist in his hold, hands trembling as they push at his head, and Wriothesley detaches himself from your pussy with great difficulty, eyebrows furrowed as he greedily licks at his lips. “Is it too much for you?” You weakly nod, eyes tiredly blinking, and he kisses at the inside of your thigh before letting it rest on his shoulder to free up his hand, pointer and ring finger moving to part your folds while his middle taps at your clit.

“Wrioooo,” you drag out, and he practically coos at the sound, his eyes flickering between your face and your cunt.

“I know, love, I know.” Your hole clenches, the pretty sight of your clear slick pooling nearly hypnotizing him. He allows his thumb to sink into you, a deep, guttural groan being forced out as you wrap around him and suck him in just as greedily as he had done to you.

He places a chaste kiss to your clit, once then twice, and gives it a slow drag of his tongue as he forces himself to move up your body, lips leaving a trail of your slick and his spit until he can lock his lips with yours.

His cock hangs heavy between his thighs, the tan, uncut tip wet with pre-cum. He aches, terribly, and when your hand slithers down between the two of you, soft fingers wrapping around him and guiding him into your heat, he nearly howls in bliss and finishes all over your clit and folds - nearly.

His eyes roll as he sinks in, heart hammering against his chest as shivers wrack up and down his body. He grips onto the back of the couch, the expensive wood splintering under his grip, and grits your name out through clenched teeth. You’re warm, soft, perfect, salvation, and he basks in it, hips pushing forward until he’s nestled deep inside, cock snug inside your welcoming walls.

Once he’s staved off his end for just a bit longer, he adjusts his stance, one foot raising up to brace on the couch while the other stays on the floor. He kisses you, soft and sweet, an unspoken question in his eyes, ever-present, and you answer him with a hushed ‘yes, I do’.

His hips pull back so only the tip remains, and then he’s surging forward, cock punching a choked moan out of your throat, your hands flying to grasp onto his sweaty shoulders. “There you go, hold onto me, baby.” That’s the last intelligible sentence he gets out before he loses himself in the feel of you, mind deteriorating down to nothing but his most primal needs; the need to drive his cock into you until he physically can’t go on any longer, until your cunt is gaped and overflowing with his seed, until the both of you are spent, until you’ve drained him of everything he has to offer, until you know —and Gods he hopes you’ll know— that he’s yours.

Mind, body and soul.

Completely, wholly, and undoubtedly yours.

Forever and always.

#wriothesley x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut

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teymars · 6 months

Text

NSFW hc’s for the Sully men bc I am bored:

MDNI

General:

• They are each EXTREMELY fertile, pregnancy is almost inescapable when you’re with one of these boys.

• On top of being very fertile, they enjoy breeding their women more than anything, so cock-warming is a nonnegotiable.

• They have great stamina, allowing them to go round after round, ensuring they “fuck you properly”.

• They aren’t particularly vocal, (unless overstimulated) but the growling, grunting and whimpering in your ear never ceases.

• Major pleasure doms fs

• Think with their dicks more than anything (specifically Jake and Lo’ak)

• They enjoy scenting and marking their women in every way possible, even if it’s just leaving you full of leaking cum, to fend off other interested men.

Jake:

• He will happily be late to any of his duties if it means an opportunity to fuck you full.

• Is especially sensitive about you touching his jewels, the feeling of them swelling within your small grasp always has him keening.

• Won’t admit it aloud but he’s totally came untouched to the thought of you in lingerie, giving him a lap-dance.

• Hates when you hide your noises from him, he doesn’t give two shits if somebody is standing 5ft away, let them know you’re his.

• Likes to fuck around by grinding against you in public, not so subtly. He has no regrets when you’re all needy and wet for him by the evening.

• Enjoys littering your inner thighs with deep-purple marks, secretly hoping they are noticeable to other people later on.

• Uses his old camera to create some fun videos with you, mainly so he can fuck into his own fist whilst you’re busy.

• Craves nights where you beg him to be rough, sure he enjoys making slow tender love to you, but being able to use you as he pleases always excites.

Neteyam:

• Is a huge family guy, consistently keeping you bred and arguing that his heart will never be full enough of you and your ever-growing family.

• Prefers your muffled moans and gasps, he’d rather be the only man in the universe to hear such sounds from you, he can prove you are all his in so many other ways after all.

• He is always in favour of doggy-style. He’d never pass up the chance to mount and rut into you with all the energy he has. Simultaneously pushing your head into the cushions of your shared bed.

• He will lean over your shoulder and whisper the filthiest nothings, accompanied by licking your hot pulse-point, hoping to encourage copious amounts of slick from you to aid in his relentless pounding.

• Absolutely has a dick and tongue piercing. Though he may be a bit ashamed by his past foolishness, he soon figures the endless orgasms they produce from you are quite worth it.

• If he isn’t thinking tactically or about what his next meal will be (probably you), he’s planning all the positions he will put you in throughout the night.

• Gets especially needy in the mornings, often waking you up with the prodding of his swollen cock-head, at your already soaked entrance.

• Is especially sensitive on his tip, the way your walls squeeze and slide over it have him near cumming on the spot each time. When it pushes against the textures of your cervix though, he dives over the edge practically every time. (Good thing he’s got that endless stamina)

Bonus: • Will lazily thrust into you throughout the early morning, coaxing both your orgasms slowly before thrusting forward abruptly and emptying every last drop into your aching cunt, remaining there until he is 110% certain you’ll be giving him another child to cherish.

Lo’ak:

• Loves to sit and watch you fuck yourself with your fingers all evening, smirking consistently because he KNOWS his cock has ruined you for anything & anyone else.

• Will comfortably have a conversation with any family member over the comm devices, while fully sheathed inside your warmth.

• Will attempt to breed you anywhere, anytime regardless of who is around. That man has his priorities set fs.

• Fucking creams himself when you openly submit to him, wether it be through a suggestive “yes sir” or spreading yourself open upon your shared bed, ready for him.

• Bites onto your shoulder to muffle his increasing moans when your soft pussy becomes too much for him. The feeling of his cock’s ridges hooking into your wet walls only intensifying this.

• Most sensitive at his slit, the second you tease your delicate fingers or hot tongue along it, he is gone. His hips will be jolting as he fights to hold back an orgasm, succumbing to the tantalising feeling of your pinkie-finger pushing into his tiny slit, teasing him.

• Secretly wants nipple piercings but would never express that openly, he fears what will become of him the day you realise how stimulated his tits can get. Sticks to ear piercings instead and is yet to grasp how Neteyam dealt with the pain of piercing his own cock.

• Also unlike Neteyam, he is not as fussed about ensuring his bloodline carries on through the next 20 generations, BUT he does take pride in having a family with you and will never refuse breeding you so long as you’ll let him.

And that’s all, feel free to speak on any of your own hc’s!! 🩵

#atwow #sullymen #avatar 2 #neteyam #jake sully #loak sully #neteyam smut #loak smut #avatar #avatarmen #avatar the way of water #neteyam sully #jake sully smut #avatar smut #headcanon #atwow fanfiction #avatar2 #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan

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leqonsluv3r · 1 month

Text

insatiable

— leon and you begin a relationship and find yourselves infatuated with each other, a blurb

contains nsfw content, 18+, MDNI

masterlist taglist

ever since you and leon admitted your feelings for each other, things had been different for you.

certain things had changed.

you found yourself more insatiable then normal, so did he. it definitely wasn’t just you, you both found yourselves barely leaving the bedroom in the honeymoon stage of your relationship.

it was like you both were hungry for each other, hungry for each others bodies like oxygen. it wasn’t normal but the affect you had on each other, it wasn’t just normal either.

like now, in the dregs of post-sex bliss, you both were laying in his bed in his apartment. your t-shirt was his and found a home on your body, laying with him in his rumpled blue sheets of his king sized bed.

limbs entangled and smalls snores leaving you both. you knew that in the waking of the night, you’d both find each other again. with your hands, your mouths and your bodies.

neither of you could help it, you were both addicted to each other now like junkies needing a fix. you wanted to blame him but you couldn’t, he was handsome. you were only human after all.

so when you both wake up in the morning, act like a normal couple for a bit, then it’s back to him ravaging you in bed. you didn’t even care either how he degraded you in the midst of all of it. you knew his respect for you ran deep, that much was aware.

but in these moments, like now, when your sat on his cock and he’s fucking into you…all of the respect is gone and only love and lust remain.

“pretty little pussy is squeezing me baby, christ.” he groans out, his hands are on your hips and he’s fucking himself up into you while you just sit on his lap and take it. “uhh…” is all you can respond, your fucked out this point and he’s practically splitting you in two.

your thoughts are only of him and his cock pounding up into you as your thighs hug his lap. you bury your head into his shoulder and whine. “poor little baby, can’t handle all this cock.” he manages to get out in between groans.

the only sounds in the room are your conjoined heavy breathing and his thighs slapping up against your ass, his hands burning brands into your hips to keep you in place while he uses you like a cock sleeve.

you moan in response and flutter around his dick on instinct, squeezing him a little. “oh? you like that, you like taking my big cock, baby?” he teases in your ear, one of his large hands coming down to squeeze your ass. his hips buck a little faster into you and start hitting that spot over and over.

“yes, like…your cock…” your words make no sense as you practically drool on his shoulder, holding onto him for dear life as he keeps fucking up into you. “i know you do, your a little slut for my cock…” he groans as he fists one hand on your ass and the other on your hip.

you whine loudly and your pussy flutters around him again at the degradation, letting it go straight to your core. he knows that your falling apart because of him, he knows he’s the only one that’s ever made you feel this hungry.

he’s trying to not let it go to his head, or his cock.

but he can’t help it, he’s bouncing you like your a fuck toy on his lap and your eating every bit of it up. “oh shit, fuck…baby…” he’s groaning and he smacks your ass cheek, squeezing the reddened flesh beneath his hands.

you squeeze around him again, your eyes practically pooling with tears as he abuses your sore pussy with his cock. you don’t even care anymore, too high on bliss and the feeling of euphoria that only him pleasuring you can do.

“made to take cock, made to be a good little cock slut.” he mumbles into your neck with another smack to your ass as he keeps thrusting his hips up into you over and over. you just whine and nod against his shoulder in response, your pussy tightening around him again.

he slips his hand around to the tight little ring of muscle, causing you to whine as he circles your asshole with his thumb. “maybe i’ll plug both your holes, keep you full and needy for me.” he hums through a groan. your body practically vibrating at the insinuation.

“please…” you whimper into his shoulder pathetically, his hand on your ass lightly smacking it again and his thrusts going deep and slower now. edging and teasing you in the way that makes your skin feel like it’s on fire.

“oh? really? you’d like that?” you can practically hear the smirk through his strained words in your ear, his deep and rough timbre vibrating through you like your nearing orgasm.

you moan and nod into his shoulder in response. he clicks his tongue, “whatever baby wants, baby gets.” he brings his thumb up to his mouth, licking on it and sucking it and spitting on it a little before he brings it back down to your asshole.

you almost scream in pleasure when he inserts his thumb into your ass, double penetrating you on his cock and thumb. you feel like you could die happily right there, filled with all of him.

you don’t even care how fucked out you must look, not when it feels so good to have him filling you up in both holes. “such a needy little slut, always needing my cock and fingers.” he mumbles into your ear with a small nip to your earlobe.

the hand on your hip is keeping you steady again as he starts thrusting into you faster, your arousal combined with his is lewd, echoing throughout his bedroom.

“gonna cum…” you manage to moan in between his rapid thrusts up into you, making you whimper and almost scream. you felt drool leak out of your lips and your eyes roll back a little. he thrusts his thumb deeper into your ass at the same time as he thrusts deep inside of you.

he hits that spot that almost makes you see stars, “good girl, such a good little slut…cum for me baby.” he rambles as he feels himself get closer. that band inside the both of you about to snap at each other’s movements.

all it takes is a couple more thrusts of his hips up into you for you to fall apart, clenching on his thumb and his cock as you moan loudly. he groans as he feels you come and he continues fucking you through it, driving your shaking body into overstimulation.

“too much…” you whine as you grip at his shoulders, your eyes squeezing shut. he keeps moving his hips up into you, chasing his own orgasm. “it’s okay, baby, i’m close. you can take it.” he presses a sloppy kiss to your ear.

you tremble and shake as he keeps thrusting up into you, you feel his muscle tense and then warmth floods your lower belly. your head resting on his shoulder and his thumb leaving your ass. he presses kisses on the side of your temple and down to your ear.

“good girl…good girl.” he murmurs into your hair, rubbing a hand along your bare spine in smoothing caresses. his cock still twitching a little inside of you. your body slumping into his on exhaustion from your previous love making.

you sigh in content, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck while he rubs on your spine. giving you love and aftercare even though you were still full of him, full of his come now.

you felt so full of his love and you hoped the honeymoon phase never ended, not once. you wished, selfishly that you could stay like this forever and be with him like this every moment of every day. even though you both knew better then that.

but the insatiable act of you two being together was one of the many reasons why you loved him so much. it was all of it, him and the way he treated you. he loved you for who you are, and you did him.

so even if you both fucked like rabbits, it was only proof that you two trusted each other enough to go to those places with each other.

because you both were truly insatiable for each other.

and that was enough for the both of you because you would never get enough of each other.

an: thank you guys for 800 followers, again, holy shit balls. i love you guys so much and i say that every time but i truly mean it. you guys are amazing, so thankful for all of you. i hope you guys liked this, it’s pure filth and the idea has been contaminating my brain since i thought of it. pls reblog, like and interact. love you guys, kisses. xx.

taglist: @elihii @heartsforvin @argreion @sqiim @adollrable @leonkennedygvrl @cherubify (interact with my taglist at the beginning if you wanna be added <33)

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the-whispers-of-death · 3 months

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John Price finally getting Grumpy!Reader's engagement ring. He had measured your left ring ringer while you were sleeping (it was for a good cause) and he went to several jewelry stores to find the perfect engagement ring. It's everything you could ever want in an engagement ring, you'll love it and hopefully you'll say yes when he proposes.

But first, he has to ask for permission to marry you from your kid. After all, he's isn't just marrying you, he's officially becoming your kid's step-father (hopefully also adopted father if they want him to adopt them). So, he has to make sure they'd be okay with you two marrying.

If your kid's little, he's not too worried about them saying no. Especially since they've been calling him "Dad" so genuinely and have been so happy when he stays over. They tell him they want him in the house all the time, so he's almost certain that they'd give him permission to marry you.

Still, he crouches down to their height level to look them in the eye. "Hey, kiddo. You love I love your parent a lot, don't you?" he asks, easing them into their conversation. He smiles when they nod. "Sometimes, when people love each other so much, they get married. Which means that they're legally recognized as a couple and they move in together. And so I love your parent so much that I want to marry them, be officially a part of this family that we've created. You, them, me. The three of us together."

He lets the words sink in, lets your kid process what he said. "What do you say to that? You like that idea?"

Your kid thinks about it for a while before asking, "Would you adopt me?"

"If you'd like me to, kiddo. I'd be honored to adopt you," John says, smiling. His smile grows even wider when your kid says he can marry you and he picks them up, swinging them around and making them laugh. "I love you so much, kiddo. I'll love you and your parent for the rest of my life, I promise."

Now, if your kid's a teenager, then John's going to be very nervous because your kid honestly got your grumpiness (because they're a teenager and also because kids can emulate their parents a little) and so while he knows they tolerate him, he doesn't know if that's enough for them to be able to be okay with him marrying you. Liking your parent's partner is one thing, being okay with them integrating their life into yours is another.

"Hey, mate," John says to them when picking them up from school (or practice if they practice a sport, either way you're not available to pick them up). He waits until they're settled in the passenger's seat and he's driving home. "So you know how I love your parent and we've grown even closer over this past year?"

Your kid eyes him warily out of the corner of their eye before nodding. And then it dawns on them. "You want to marry them?"

John nods, his palms sweaty as he grips the steering wheel. "Yeah, I want to marry them. But only if you're okay with it."

"Why?" they ask, surprised at that answer. Apparently, they had been thinking John would just marry you without caring if they were okay with it or not. "You care about whether I'm comfortable with your guys' relationship?"

"Of course I care. You're their kid and... I've grown to think of you as my own too," John admits sheepishly. He makes a turn into the subdivision. "So yeah, I care about whether you're okay with us marrying or not. It's not just them and I, you're also being affected by this and I want us all to be a family."

They think on it for a while before smiling shyly. "I'm okay with you joining our family. I like having you around." They then glance at him, smirking. "But uh, you're going all the way with integrating into our family, alright? I'm getting adopted by you, that's my one condition."

John laughs, relaxing now that he's gotten their permission to marry you. He pulls his car into your driveway and parks. "It would be my honor to adopt you and officially call you my kid."

"Thanks, Dad."

Reblogs are welcomed & appreciated! Asks are open, feel free to pop in and talk or request something! (SFW requests only, please and thank you)

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angelwonie · 1 year

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HEARTS ARE WON AT PRACTICE || jung jaehyun

PAIRING: football player!jaehyun x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 21.2k

GENRE(S): smut, fluff, enemies to friends to lovers

SUMMARY: jung jaehyun is an obnoxious, way too handsome footballer whom you have no intention of getting to know. at least until a series of coincidences forces you to spend time with him, and you realize there might be more to him than what meets the eye.

WARNINGS: smut [unprotected sex, praise, degradation, fingering, locker room sex, a little dumbification], jaehyun is hot, unfortunately

Getting hit in the head with a football definitely was not on your to-do list for today.

It all happens so quickly. One minute you’re on your way home — walking down the path that coincidentally forces you to pass by the football field, side-eyeing the players whose egos have long ago surpassed whatever roof kept them in check before, and in the next a football shoots in your direction, hitting your head so hard you stumble a few steps backwards. It stings a little, but there’s no blood on your fingers when you retract them from your forehead, so you suppose it’s fine.

You hear someone shout in the distance just then, the voice all too familiar even though you can’t make out the words he’s saying. And really, it doesn’t matter that much, either. What matters is that it’s him who just hit you in the head with a football, and the second you hear his voice it makes your heart stop.

Jung Jaehyun.

You could’ve recognized his voice from miles away. Not because you’re one of his pitiful fangirls, of course — there’s no way you’re associating yourself with the cheerleaders almost fainting when he enters the field to play. No, if it were up to you, you wouldn’t even know Jung Jaehyun exists. Unfortunately, though, you happen to be both his neighbor and have a best friend that fell head over heels in love with him last year. If your mom wasn’t gushing about how handsome Jaehyun was one day, Dahyun always made up for it.

His voice shoots through the air again now, and this time, you look up. He’s far away, so you can’t hear him, only catch a glimpse of his red shirt, but after a second or two you come to realize he’s not even talking to you; he’s talking to his teammates.

What an asshole, you think to yourself, almost scoffing as you look at him. Is he really so self-centered that he can’t apologize for kicking the ball into your fucking skull? Probably, if the fact that he rejected your friend without even looking in her direction is anything to go by. And though that happened almost a year ago, your friend still sometimes looks like she’s about to cry when you pass by the football field. At least you don’t have to listen to her rant about how sexy his thighs are anymore.

Shaking your head, you start walking again, now much more eager to get home than ever.

You make it approximately ten steps before you hear his voice again, much closer than before. It’s soft, but deep — the kind of voice that makes girls fall to their knees — and unfortunately, also loud enough for your head to whip around instinctively.

“Y/N, wait!”

You stop walking and look at him. He’s still in his uniform, shirt clinging to his upper body and face glistening in sweat. The sun is high up in the sky, reflecting in his eyes as he looks at you, his uneven breath a sign that he’s been practicing for a long time. Not that it’s surprising — you’re certain that boy doesn’t have anything to his personality other than being a good football player. And being objectively handsome. His lips quirk up in a small smile when he sees you’ve halted your walk, but what catches your attention are his words.

He said your name.

It shouldn’t come as a surprise since you’ve lived close to each other for many years, but you’ve never spoken to him, and he hasn’t so much as looked in your direction before. Now he’s looking, though. And as much as you hate to admit it, you can see where all of those fangirls are coming from. His eyes rest on you softly, like a cheek pressed against a fluffy pillow, but he’s nowhere near absent-minded, that much is obvious from the small hint of worry in his gaze. Whether that is worry for you or his reputation as the best player on the team, you're not sure.

You hear his breathing even out, and it makes you realize you’re still standing without moving, waiting for him to say something.

“Are you okay?” he finally asks, pushing his wet hair back in a way that looks much more attractive than it needs to. “I really didn’t mean for it to hit you.”

“Maybe you should work on your aiming skills, then,” you tell him, watching as his face contorts into an offended expression. He looks half-mad, half-confused, with his eyes blinking down on you and jaw clenched just slightly. It makes you wonder whether anyone has ever told him to work on his aim before. Probably not. “I’m fine, though.”

You begin walking again, leaving Jaehyun behind. No other sounds than the weak wind reach your ears, and you wonder if he’s going back to the football field. Not that you really care. You’re just curious.

It only takes another five seconds for you to find out.

“Are you sure?” Jaehyun’s shoulder brushes over yours as he catches up to you. Caught off guard, you jump a little, and his lips spread in a smile — a full one this time, teeth on display and eyes crinkling. It’s the same smile he wears when his team wins a game, you realize, before you can stop your thoughts from running. “That you’re fine, I mean. I kicked it pretty hard.”

“Yes, I’m sure,” you roll your eyes in annoyance. Is this guy waiting for some confirmation that yes, he did kick it hard, and yes, it did hurt? Wasn’t that much obvious from how you almost fell flat on your face in front of the whole football team? “I’m alright, so you can just go back and finish your game.”

“We finished it already,” he pushes his hair away from his face again — why is he even doing that if it just falls back either way? — and walks in front of you to block you from walking any further. You glare at him, but either he doesn’t notice, or he ignores it completely. “Are you sure you’re okay? It looks like a bruise is forming here.”

And before you can even react, he leans down so his face is on level with yours and brings his thumb to lightly trace above your brow, where the football hit you earlier. It didn’t ache at all before, but now it tingles where he touches you, like your skin setting on fire. Except it doesn’t hurt, it’s just… different. And unexpected. Really unexpected. That’s what you blame everything on as you keep on standing, not flinching away from his touch though you have no idea why.

“Does it hurt?”

His voice brings you back to reality, and you blink up at him in surprise. “No.”

Cringing internally at how meek your voice sounds, you shake your head and take a step back, that warm feeling fading away from your face the moment his skin isn’t on yours anymore.

“No, I said I’m fine already.”

You sigh, picking up the walk again and scrunching your nose up when Jaehyun walks by your side. The last thing you need right now is some overconfident footballer to ruin your day. You can already feel the headache coming along.

A few moments pass by in silence and you look over at the woods surrounding the path. Some flowers have started to bloom, filling the grass with colors. You catch a glimpse of Jaehyun looking at you, then following your gaze that rests on the flowers. Your eyebrows lift in surprise as he strays from the path and walks onto the grass, starting to pick flowers. He looks like he’s taking this very seriously, pondering for a second or two before he chooses a flower. You almost want to burst his bubble and tell him these flowers probably won’t impress the kind of girls he surrounds himself with, but you decide it’ll be funnier if he makes a fool out of himself later.

He returns to the path like nothing happened, the small bouquet of flowers dangling in his hand. It’s only now that you notice you stopped walking to watch, so you speed up again, hoping to God he didn’t notice or get the wrong idea.

“So,” he begins, and you feel like dying. This is going to be a long walk home. “You coming to the game on friday?”

You turn your head to the side and look at him. “No way. Football games are the most boring things in the world.”

It’s not a complete lie — you don’t like watching football at all, especially when all the players walk around with those looks on their face that make it obvious they think they’re better than everyone else. Like the one Jung Jaehyun is wearing right at this moment.

“Even if the players are handsome?”

You scoff at his shit-eating grin. If this is how he talks to every girl then you’ll have to take back what you said earlier — you have no idea where all those fangirls come from. Unless you only care about looks, there’s nothing to this guy at all.

“If only they were,” you sigh overly dreamily, hoping it'll make him annoyed and he’ll shut up.

Except he does the exact opposite. He starts laughing. It’s loud, strong — you suppose his confidence transfers to his laugh, too — and unfortunately for you, pleasant to listen to. But that’s just an observation, obviously.

He chuckles for a solid thirty seconds before the laughter fades into a wide smile that settles on his features, eyes glimmering in the sunlight as he pushes you lightly. “You’re funny.”

“It wasn’t a joke.”

His grin only grows wider at your annoyed expression. “Sure it wasn’t.”

You swear you would’ve punched him if it weren’t for the old lady passing by at that exact moment. Before you can nod your head in her direction, Jaehyun tells her ‘Good morning’ with a smile still plastered to his face. You turn around slightly, trying to figure out how Jaehyun knows that person, but it seems it’s only the lady living between him and your house.

Shaking your head, you think to yourself that they’re probably relatives or something. Because if they aren’t, it would mean you’re acknowledging Jaehyun’s kindness to strangers, and you’re not really dying to do that at the moment.

“Asshole,” you mumble to yourself, as if summing up the whole situation.

“By the way,” This time it’s you that starts the conversation, reminded of something you wanted to ask him. “You know Dahyun, right?”

You watch as his nose scrunches up in thought, lip pulled between his teeth. “Dahyun…”

He looks like he’s got no clue who you’re talking about, so you help him out.

“Short with blonde hair. Asked you out last year and you rejected her without even considering it. Does that ring a bell?”

He lets go of his lip and rests his gaze on you. You can’t tell what he’s thinking, but the lack of guilt in his eyes angers you. Surely he understands Dahyun is your friend from the tone of your voice, so why isn’t he saying sorry? The least he could do now is apologize for acting like a complete jerk. He owes you that much, right?

“Yeah, I guess,” he says finally, in a careless tone that annoys you even more. “What about it?”

What about it? Is he serious right now?

“You’re a total dick, you know that? Who rejects someone without even knowing them?” you blurt out without thinking twice about it.

The wind rustles Jaehyun’s hair as he raises a brow, and it falls in his eyes again. He doesn’t push it away this time. You’re looking at him intently, waiting for him to say something. Anything. You wonder if he’s going to apologize now that you confronted him, but something in his gaze tells you he’s not the type to admit he’s wrong.

“Who asks someone out without knowing them?” he says finally and you open your mouth to retaliate, but he cuts you off. “What was I supposed to do exactly? I mean, I’d never spoken to her in my life. Better to just say no instead of leading someone on, don’t you think?”

You open your mouth then close it again. You should probably say something. Argue with him. But he’s right, at least to some extent. You would’ve done the same, so you’re not exactly in any position to lecture him. He knows that — maybe he saw it in your expression — you can tell from how his lips form a smile yet again. And surprisingly, you don’t feel a strong urge to kick him when he walks closer to your side, his shoulder only a few centimeters from yours.

“You’re still a dick,” you remind him, and he presses his lips out in a pout.

“How is that fair?”

You’re nearing both your houses now, the flowers and trees replaced by the neighborhood you’ve grown up in. You half-expect Jaehyun to leave the moment he spots his local friends that are sitting by the lawn they always play football on — you only know this because you can hear their shouting from your room whenever the window is open — but he only waves in their direction before turning his attention back to you as you speak.

“How was that free kick in your last game fair?”

You regret that last comment the moment Jaehyun’s pout turns into a proud smirk. “So you do come watch us play.”

“My friend dragged me along,” you assure him quickly. A little too quickly. “And just so you know, that goal of yours was totally just luck.”

You’ve reached your house now — his is only a couple steps further. You’re not sure whether you’re supposed to say goodbye or just walk away without paying him any attention. Does he consider you friends now? Probably not. He has plenty of those. Plus, you’re friends with a girl that hates him. He’s likely to prefer for you to leave without a word. Which you don’t mind, obviously. Even if your heart jumps all the way to your throat when he pats you on the shoulder with a smile.

“Right,” he mumbles with that annoying smirk on his face, and you roll your eyes, walking up to the front door. You don’t expect him to say anything else, but then he raises his voice to shout after you so loudly you’re sure half the neighborhood can hear him. “See you tomorrow, Y/N!”

And you open the door to your house only half-annoyed.

—

“No way. There’s just no fucking way.”

“What is it?” Dahyun asks excitedly from the other end of the line. “What happened? Don’t tell me you caught your brother making out with some girl again.”

“No, it’s not that,” you blink violently, making sure that you’re seeing straight. Strings of questions are heard from where Dahyun is rambling into the phone, but you can’t focus on any of them. “I think Jung Jaehyun is talking to my mom right now.”

“What?”

You can hear she’s confused, and truthfully, so are you. But it’s true — you’re almost home now, and there he is, Jung Jaehyun standing in your driveway, chatting with your mom like it’s the most normal thing ever. It’s not normal, though. You barely know the guy, and you definitely don’t like him, so what in the world is he doing outside your door?

Dahyun asks a million questions again, and you sigh into the phone, at loss for anything to say. “I’ll call you back later, okay?”

Then you hang up without waiting for an answer. She’s probably going to give you an earful for that later, but what you’re focused on right now is running up to your mom.

Jaehyun is the one to notice you first, his pearly whites on display as he flashes you a smile. He’s not wearing his football attire, you notice, but plain jeans and a sleeveless shirt. You want to ask him why the hell he’s wearing a sleeveless shirt in the beginning of spring, but you suppose that would only urge him to imply you’re staring at his arms (which you’re not, obviously) and his ego really doesn’t need any more boosts.

“Y/N, you’re here,” Jaehyun says and only then does your mom look in your direction, clapping her hands together in glee.

“Yeah, I’m here,” you glare at the football player. “Because I’m supposed to be. May I ask what the hell you are doing on my front lawn?”

“Y/N, language!” Your mom lightly slaps your shoulder, and you almost want to throw up when you see the sickly sweet apologetic smile she sends Jaehyun. Oh God, what if she has a crush on him? Would explain why she’s scolding you for wanting to know what an almost-stranger is doing at your doorstep. And what if Jaehyun actually likes older women, and that’s why he’s rejecting every girl at school? “Jaehyun here is being a sweetheart and helping me carry these groceries inside.”

Of course he is. You raise a brow in Jaehyun’s direction, but he only shrugs with a proud smile. What is he smiling for? Is this some sort of payback for you saying his aim is bad? Is he really that petty? Honestly, he seems like the type to do that. You guess that’s what you get for bruising his fragile ego.

“Actually, Jaehyun, why don’t you come and have dinner with us? There’s more than enough food for everyone.”

“What?” you laugh nervously at your mom’s words, sending her a pleading look. Nope. There’s no way you’re about to eat dinner with this guy. “Please, mom, I’m sure Jaehyun has practice—”

“I don’t, actually.” You’ve never wanted to punch a smirk off of someone’s face so badly before, that’s for sure. He’s doing it on purpose, that fucking asshole. It’s evident in the way his eyes light up in amusement as you glare at him angrily. “I’d love to join you for dinner.”

And that’s how you find yourself wanting to cry in your own living room, sitting around the dining table with Jung Jaehyun as you wait for your mother to finish making dinner.

Your mom has the table set like it’s some kind of holiday (she probably thinks having a handsome guy in her house equals Christmas), with flowers in vases and candles and tons of side dishes that you don’t even know when she had the time to prepare. Now she’s scurrying around the kitchen, successfully rejecting Jaehyun’s every offer to help but almost kicking your brother when he takes a little too long leaving his room to clean the dishes. Double standards at their finest.

Fortunately, she’s left you alone — though you think it’s because she wants you to entertain Jaehyun, so it’s not that much of a consolation. You’re just counting on the ground to swallow you up whole before he starts talking.

“Okay, so,” Too late, you think to yourself as he opens his mouth. “What’s your favorite color?”

You scoff in laughter, looking at Jaehyun for the first time since you entered the house. “Why are you asking me that?”

“Because I’m trying to get to know you,” he shrugs. “That’s what friends do, right? Know each other.”

You narrow your eyes at him, watching as he rests his chin on his hand. The absurdity of it all makes you want to laugh. A little over 24 hours ago you hadn’t exchanged a word with Jung Jaehyun, and now he’s sitting in your living room, asking you questions about yourself. You have to admit you’re slightly taken aback — you didn’t expect him to suddenly become so interested in getting to know you, and you definitely didn’t take him for someone who puts effort into things like relations.

“Who said I want to be your friend?”

He studies you for a moment, tilting his head to the side as his eyes rake over your face. It makes you feel exposed in a way — he has that type of stare that makes you feel flustered even though he’s not doing much, just looking. It’s the attention, you decide. How it feels like all of his attention is on you, that’s what’s making you so nervous right now.

“You do,” he says finally, leaning forward so he’s all up in your face. “I can see it in your eyes.”

All you can see, though, are his eyes mere inches from yours, his hot breath landing on your lips. You see his hair fall onto his forehead, and you almost feel an urge to push it back. This only lasts a second, though, before you’re pulling away, scooting farther away from him on your seat. Geez. Doesn’t this guy know what personal space is?

You clear your throat and speak, thanking God that your voice doesn’t sound shaky. “Oh no, I think the disease is spreading. Not only is your aim bad, but your eyesight is, too.”

“My aim isn’t bad.”

You almost want to laugh at how he straightens his back, squaring his shoulders as if to prove a point.

“Really? And that’s why you managed to kick a ball into my head when I was standing twenty meters away from the goal?”

He leans forward on the table with his jaw clenched. “Look—”

He’s cut off by your mom entering the living room, two plates full of food in her hands. She asks if anyone is willing to help her carry everything to the table, and Jaehyun volunteers, his stance faltering. You watch silently as they set the table, tapping your fingers against your thigh. When they finally sit down, Jaehyun next to you and your mom across from you, they both seem to be in a good mood, so you figure Jaehyun didn’t get very mad at your comment.

Your mom urges Jaehyun to eat tons of meat, and then she rests her chin on her hand, smiling at him like he’s the most beautiful human being she’s ever seen. “So, Jaehyun, you play football, right? How long have you played for?”

“About… ten years, give or take,” he says it like it’s no big deal, but you can feel your eyes growing wide, and your mom’s gasp signalizes she’s having the same thoughts as you. All you cared about ten years ago was watching the latest show everyone was talking about. “Not that long compared to others trying to make the national team.”

National team? Your eyes find their way to his on their own, and you hold back the shocked expression that is creeping up on you. There’s no way you’re letting him see you’re impressed. Instead, you offer him a roll of your eyes and a scoff.

“Oh, great, you’re like one of those kids that never grew out of their professional footballer fantasy.”

He grins. Something in his gaze tells you he didn’t buy your act. “It’s not a fantasy if you’re talented enough to make it.”

“Wow, aren’t you confident in yourself?” you ask mockingly.

“Y/N,” your mom warns you, and you sigh, eating your food quietly. You can feel Jaehyun’s stare burning into you, but you don’t look up because he’s confusing and annoying, and you don’t want to look at him because it only makes you more confused and annoyed. Luckily, your mom only seems pleased with your silence. “Do you like the food, Jaehyun?”

“It’s delicious,” he flashes a bright smile. “Could I maybe have the recipe? I'd love for my mom to make this sometime.”

You want to criticize him for sucking up to her, but the way your mom’s eyes light up at his words make you bite your tongue.

“Why, of course, you can!”

Jaehyun’s eyes meet yours as your mom fishes out a piece of paper and starts writing the ingredients on it. He’s still smiling. He doesn’t look proud of himself or anything. It’s just a genuine smile. That was nice of you, you want to tell him. You don’t. Instead, you hope he can see it in your eyes. Or maybe you’re hoping he doesn’t. You’re not sure.

“Uh, why is he here?”

You’re reminded of your brother’s presence only as he walks into the room, sleeves of his shirt pushed up, signaling he was doing the dishes. He’s referring to Jaehyun and you’re thankful someone else thinks it’s awful he’s here right now — at least until your brother opens his mouth again. “Is he Y/N’s boyfriend?”

“What? No!” You slam your hand on the table a little too hard, causing your mom and Jaehyun to jump in their seats. “Are you crazy? He’s just a neighbor. You know, he's one of those annoying guys that always play football late at night.”

You can feel your mom’s reprimand coming along, but before she can fully open her mouth, your brother is turning to Jaehyun with awe in his eyes.

“You are? That's so dope,” Your jaw drops at your brother’s response, Jaehyun’s quiet chuckle only barely reaching your ears. “You wouldn't mind teaching me a few tricks, right? I've seen you guys play and you're mad good.”

You scoff. What is this, some Jung Jaehyun fanclub? Faintly, you can hear him say ‘sure’ to your brother and the latter jumps in excitement like a little kid. Jaehyun’s eyes shimmer in the living room light when you look to the side to catch a glimpse of him, only for a moment wondering what’s going through his head. All you know about him is that he’s unpredictable and plays football, and for the first time, you feel like you want to know more.

As your mom and Jaehyun clean the table, you usher your brother away (ignoring his whining about wanting to play football with ‘the sexy dude’) and put on your hoodie. It’s still cool outside in the evenings, and you’re certain your mom will force you to walk Jaehyun home even though he lives two minutes away. Your suspicions are confirmed as soon as she walks back into the living room with Jaehyun in tow, her eyes already telling you that if you don’t walk him home she’s going to disown you.

Reluctantly, you lead him to the front door, not bothering to tie your shoes. He’s the first to reach the door, and he opens it for you, to which you mumble a small ‘thank you.’ It seems like you have a lot to thank him for today. Making your mom happy, putting your brother in a good mood, and now, holding the door open for you. You suppose it’s enough to make up for the football hitting your head.

“Your mom is nice,” is the first thing he says as you walk alongside each other, slow steps that bring you closer to his house. “Very optimistic and supportive, it seems. It’s refreshing.”

Your first thought is how you thought he was into her, but you feel a sting in your heart when you hear the faint yearning in his voice. He isn’t crushing on your mom, she’s just showing interest in what he’s doing and he likes that. You wonder if his parents are different. If they don’t support him. Maybe they think trying out for the national team is stupid?

“Let me ask you a question,” you say and he nods. “Why do you reject every girl that asks you out?”

He raises a brow in surprise. “That’s a deep question for someone who said my aim is bad.”

“If I take it back, will you answer?”

He buries his hands in his pockets and walks backwards, so he can face you. It’s dark and you can barely see him, and it also doesn’t help that when he’s this close you have to crane your neck to look up at him. Tapping his chin, he acts as if he’s in deep thought.

“I’ll think about it.”

You sigh, shivering as the cold wind hits your skin.

“I’m sorry I said your aim is bad,” you say finally, resigned. “Happy?”

“Very.”

He grins and for some unknown reason, you don’t feel as cold anymore. You shake off whatever feeling’s stirring up in your stomach — for a moment, it feels dangerously close to happiness and enjoying Jung Jaehyun’s company isn’t on your to-do list for today. You try walking faster to get this whole ‘walk Jaehyun home’ thing over with quicker, but he blocks you and you scoff.

“I apologized,” you remind him. “Now answer my question.”

He shakes his head with a playful glint in his eyes. “I said I’d think about it, not that I’d answer it. I thought about it and I don’t want to.”

“You’re annoying.”

“Thanks.”

A small smile settles on your features, one you realize you’ve been holding back for most of the day. You hope Jaehyun can’t see it in the dark — that would be embarrassing. Not only because you’re supposed to dislike him, but also because he’s a cocky little shit and he doesn’t need to know he’s actually an interesting person. At least you think he might be. Maybe.

Slowly, you walk, now barely ten meters away from his house. You’re thinking of something to say when it starts raining. It’s one raindrop, then two, and suddenly it’s pouring. Not violently, just peacefully, water dripping down your face as you look up at the sky. It’s so pretty. He looks at you, you can feel his stare, and so you look at him, too. The smile doesn’t leave your face, and you’re sure he can see it now. He doesn’t comment on it, though, and for that, you’re thankful.

You don’t know what it means just yet. Other than that you want to get to know him. Maybe.

“It’s raining,” you say, and he stops walking, raising his eyebrows, as if to say you’re stating the obvious. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

“You like the rain?”

“You don’t?”

He thinks for a moment, eyes on you when you open your hand, letting the raindrops fall on your palm. Your hair is wet, he notices, and your clothes, too. You don’t seem to mind, though, and he thinks this might be the happiest he’s seen you all day. So rain is what makes you happy. He fights back the urge to laugh. He never would have taken you for someone this easy to please. Maybe you’re a little happier spending time with him than you let on.

Maybe. He’s not sure, but maybe this uncertainty is exactly what draws him to you. No clear answers, no black on white, just his words and the words you choose to respond with. He likes it, he thinks.

“I hate playing in the rain,” He finally responds. “It makes the field all slippery and wet. I prefer the sun.”

You’re not surprised, he can tell from the look in your eyes. “Don’t you have any opinions unrelated to football?”

You had intended for the question to come off as a snarky comment, but you realize as the words leave your mouth there are no traces of irritation in your voice. Only the genuine interest you didn’t want to let come to the surface.

“It may come as a surprise, but actually, I do.”

Jaehyun’s bare arms are littered with raindrops, hair pitch black as it allows more rain to drip down his face. He must be freezing, but he makes no move to walk home quicker, and so you don’t either. Your hoodie isn’t completely soaked through yet, so you decide you can enjoy the rain a little longer. He clears his throat and you look at him expectantly.

“I like Red Bull,” he begins, eyes blinking down on you as if he’s expecting you to laugh at him or something. But you don’t, and so he smiles wider and continues. “I don’t have a favorite color. Your mom’s kimchi is phenomenal. Plans and schedules are overrated. You want to be my friend.” He stops, watching your slightly startled expression. “Your turn.”

You think it through for a moment.

“My favorite color is purple,” You say, slowly tasting the words on your tongue as you let them leave your mouth. “Latte tastes best with two cubes of sugar. You’re annoying and your aim sucks. I want to be your friend.”

“I knew it.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” You grin as you push his shoulder. He was supposed to stumble backward, but he doesn’t even budge, which should annoy you, but you can’t bring yourself to care that much when the rain is making you feel so light. Or maybe it’s not the rain. You’re not sure. “Stop smiling so much and go inside. You’re going to catch a cold in that shirt.”

He walks to his door and opens it, but before walking inside, he turns around and waves at you. You wave back, watching as he sports a smile that doesn’t falter even as he disappears into the house.

You walk back home with a smile on your face, only a quarter annoyed.

—

It’s a little past eight when Jaehyun sees you kicking stones by the bus stop.

Actually, he hears you long before you come into sight — a scream of frustration in what he recognizes as your voice hits his ears as he walks outside to throw away the trash. Interested, and maybe a tad bit worried for your well-being, he decides to check what’s going on. And sure enough, there you are, head in your hands as you flop down on the pavement by the road.

“Y/N,” he says and you lift your head, sighing. “You okay?”

You shake your head in disbelief. How come he’s always there when something’s happening? You let your eyes rake over his frame — he’s wearing sweats and a compression shirt that, even you have to admit, makes him look hot. The outline of his abs is distracting, even for you. Still, you do your best to look him in the eyes as you speak.

“I missed the bus.”

He scoffs and you glare at him. “Jesus Christ, I thought something serious happened. You look like you want to die.”

“It is serious!” you protest, throwing your hands in the air. “I’m going to be late for class. Who decided that the buses only run every half hour?”

He looks like he’s in deep thought, gazing down on you as you sit on the edge of the pavement. His classes don’t start until nine, so he wasn’t planning on heading out to school already, but you’re looking miserable and he’s intent on being on good terms with you. Apart from his teammates, you’re pretty much the only one that doesn’t act like he’s some sort of celebrity. Sure, having girls drool over you is fun, but only until you’re looking for someone to talk to and not fuck. Besides, he enjoys your company. It won’t kill him to leave a little early.

“Get up,” he says suddenly, and without giving you any time to react, he grabs your arm and hauls you up so you’re standing. “I’ll drive you.”

You furrow your brows in confusion. “You’ll drive me?”

“Yeah, let me just get the keys to the car.”

And just like that, you’re following a compression-shirt-clad football player into his house that you’ve never been in. For some reason, it makes you nervous, like you’re trespassing or something, but hearing Jaehyun say no one’s home calms your nerves a little.

He walks into the living room and leaves you in the hallway, and you take this as an opportunity to look around. The house looks a little like your own — the design is the same, the walls are painted white like yours and the windows are the same size. But apart from that, it’s so different.

The walls are littered with pictures — you recognize Jaehyun’s parents, holding him as a baby. Another one is of him and his sister, when they were around seven or eight. They have a couple more group pictures, but other than that, most are of Jaehyun on the football field. Ten-year-old Jaehyun holding what looks like his first medal; teenage Jaehyun screaming in happiness after scoring a goal; and then, your personal favorite — tears streaming down Jaehyun’s face as he lifts a trophy above his head, his teammates all joyfully smiling.

His parents must be proud of him, you think to yourself. You probably would, too, if you were them. Yet when you were talking to him last, he gave you the impression that his parents weren’t as supportive of him as he’d like. But it’s none of your business, you decide, and avert your eyes from the pictures.

Your gaze falls on a vase full of flowers standing proudly in the middle of the dining table. It looks familiar, you think, that combination of flowers. Maybe you’ve seen it at the flower shop? No, they’re too messy; they look too handpicked. You stare at the bouquet a little longer, and that’s when it clicks.

It’s the flowers Jaehyun picked on the way home that day you talked to him for the first time.

“I got the keys, let’s go.”

His voice startles you a little, but you only nod, following him out the door. So he picked the flowers for his parents? Or, judging from the way they were carefully placed around the vase so as not to leave any holes, he picked them for his mom. That’s… surprising. And adorable, as much as you hate to admit it.

Jaehyun opens the garage door only to reveal an old-looking, black BMW. He unlocks it and opens the door for you to climb in.

“Is this your car?” you ask him hesitantly.

He smiles as you slide into the seat. “Nope, it’s my dad’s.”

“And did you get permission to drive it?”

“Nope,” he repeats, grinning, and walks around the car to climb into his seat. “Isn’t that what makes it exciting?”

You probably shouldn’t be letting him drive around in his father’s car like that, but you’re late for class and his excited smile is slowly working to loosen up the nervousness in your stomach, so you just glare at him and whisper a quiet ‘you crazy jerk’ under your breath. He hears it and laughs as he starts driving, your own lips quirking up in a smile as he does so. Who knew Jung Jaehyun would turn out to be your savior today?

“So, how does it work?” you ask him as he pulls out of the driveway. “Being an athlete, I mean. Do you have any classes or do you just play football all day?”

“I have classes, too, unfortunately,” he sighs dramatically. “I major in physical education, just in case everything goes to shit. At least I’ll be able to coach teams. But other than that, I just play. Four hours a day.”

You’d kind of expected to have to hold on for dear life, but he’s driving smoothly, only one hand on the steering wheel. His shoulders are relaxed, a small smile playing on his lips while he talks to you, eyes drifting to the side to look at you only for a split second before they’re back on the road. It’s obvious he’s driven a lot before, and you kind of want to know where, but it seems like the wrong setting to ask a question like that, so you don’t. You’ll ask him next time.

Next time. You almost want to laugh as you realize you’re subconsciously planning to meet Jung Jaehyun again. It’s not like you were expecting to never see him again, but it’s the want behind the words that catch you a little off guard. The fact that you want to meet with him again.

“Four hours?” you ask finally, joining him in watching the road. “Couldn’t be me.”

“What do you major in, then? English?”

“Nope,” you clown him and he smiles wider. “Journalism. I might be the reporter interviewing you after your next match, so you better be nice to me.”

“I see,” he uses his free hand to fish out his phone from his pocket, pressing it against his lips as if it’s a microphone. “So you’re gonna be all like ‘Hello, everyone, I’m here with national football team member Jung Jaehyun, who just scored fifteen goals in the match against—’”

“Fifteen? You think you’re gonna score fifteen goals?”

“Well, of course. Don’t you believe in me?” His face forms into a mock-offended expression.

“If I say no, will you throw me out of the car?”

“Probably.”

You grin widely. “Then I believe in you a hundred percent.”

The drive ends earlier than expected — maybe it’s true what they say, that time passes by quicker when you’re having fun — and suddenly, Jaehyun’s parking the car outside of your university. Many people are already there, and you spot Beomgyu and Dahyun standing by the entrance. Jaehyun turns off the engine and you reach for the belt, but even as you push down on the button with all your strength, it won’t budge.

“What the hell?” you mumble, pulling at the belt harder in annoyance.

You feel Jaehyun’s hand on your wrist and look up, only to see him leaning in your direction. For a moment, your heart stills and your body freezes. His hair falls into his eyes as his nose stills a mere centimeter from your own and his hand rests on the part of the seat right next to your head. From the corner of your eye, you can glimpse his arm muscles flexing, his brows furrowed in concentration. Is he about to kiss you? If so, you should totally push him away, but you can barely register what’s happening before he’s pulling away again, sinking back into his seat.

What the hell did he do that for?

“The car’s a bit old.”

You blink a couple times, brain trying to process just how the fact that his car is old correlates to anything that just happened. You stare at him for a moment, waiting for him to explain himself or something, but he just raises a brow, like you’re the one acting weird.

That’s when you notice the seatbelt no longer restraining your movements. Oh. Oh. He was loosening your seatbelt for you because you couldn’t do it.

Holy fuck, just how dumb can you be? Your heart hiccups inside your chest and you almost want to bang your head against the headboard of the car. For a moment of clarity, you slip out from your seat and leave the car, closing the door behind you. A second later, Jaehyun does, too and he looks at you from over the car.

“Thanks,” You tell him, feeling a little bad you just got up from the car like that. “For driving me and for, uh, loosening the seatbelt for me.”

The smile makes its way back to his face. “No problem.”

Fuck, his happiness is contagious. You don’t even try to fight back your own smile. A glance down on your phone tells you your classes are about to start, so you tell him you need to go and giggle softly when he presses his lips out in a pout. He bids you goodbye with his hands in his pockets, leaning against his car.

And just like that, you make your way to the university building, grinning like crazy. A pair of girls walk by, and you swear you hear them say your name, but they look away the moment you meet their gaze, so you don’t think too much of it. Your friends are waiting for you by the entrance and you greet them normally, a little taken aback when you see Dahyun’s frown and Beomgyu’s unusually grinning face for it to be half past eight in the morning.

“Y/N,” Dahyun starts as you’re walking to the classroom. “Please tell me I’m wrong, but did I just see you getting out of Jung Jaehyun’s car?”

“I—”

“I knew it! You guys are totally fucking. I can see it in your eyes,” Beomgyu exclaims before you can even respond to Dahyun’s question. “Tell me your secrets, please. How did you bag the hottest player on the football team?”

“I didn’t bag anybody,” You whisper-shout, looking around frantically as if someone’s going to listen in on your conversation. “We’re just neighbors.”

“And you let every neighbor of yours drive you to school?” Dahyun’s judgemental stare makes you feel bad. What if she’s mad at you?

“No, I guess not, but—”

She cuts you off, lips forming into a smile as she grabs you by the shoulders. “Then why didn’t you tell me sooner, you idiot?”

“What?” You look between her and Beomgyu, utterly confused.

“I’m supposed to be your best friend, you shouldn’t keep secrets from me,” Dahyun pouts. “I’m not mad you’re talking to him, but hello, don’t I deserve to at least know how big his dick is?”

You burst out laughing, relief washing over you. Thank God they’re not angry, because you have no idea what you would do without their useless comments and endless teasing. “And how am I supposed to know that?”

“Because you bagged him,” Beomgyu sings awfully loudly.

You push him. “No, I didn’t!”

“It doesn’t matter,” Dahyun stops you from lounging at him. “Just promise me you’ll tell me everything from now on, okay? I want to know every little detail about this ‘friendship’ or whatever. Don’t you realize this is the most exciting thing that’s happened since Seonghwa’s party last weekend?”

You laugh. “Okay. I promise.”

And you walk into class pretty happy with the outcome of things.

—

It’s not before your classes have ended that you hear the rumors spreading.

It happens by accident the first time you hear someone talk about it. A group of girls is standing by the vending machine as you’re buying a coca cola, and you happen to overhear their conversation. Or at least, a part of it. You pretty much only catch your name and Jaehyun’s, and then one of the girls nudges their friends and gesticulates to you. That makes them walk away, and you’re left standing by the vending machine baffled.

What’s even more surprising, Dahyun doesn’t know anything when you ask her about it. It’s only when the two of you approach Minjeong, a gossip girl at most, that you find out what this whole ordeal is about.

“People are saying you’re dating Jung Jaehyun,” She tells you like it’s obvious. “Someone saw you getting out of a car with him, so everyone is on edge because he might be off limits now. ”

“Well, you can tell them he’s not off limits,” you say instantly. “Because we’re not dating.”

Then you head directly to the football field.

You see him the moment you arrive — Jung Jaehyun in all his glory, hair sweaty and legs quick as he dribbles the ball. He’s in the middle of the field, way too far away for you to shout at him. Hesitantly, you walk closer to the sidelines, where the substitute players sit. You spot who you suppose is Jaehyun’s coach, shouting something you can’t quite make out to those on the field.

You watch them play and for just a moment, you forget why you’re here. At that moment, as you glimpse Jaehyun passing the ball to one of his teammates, you kind of understand why people go to football matches. There’s something nice about seeing people so passionate and letting that passion be the only thing occupying your thoughts.

Jaehyun’s yell fills the air not a minute later — your own lungs tightening in something that resembles fear, because what if he’s hurt himself? — but then he turns around and he’s smiling wider than you’ve ever seen him smile, and you become aware that he scored a goal. And there’s that passion again. You can't help but smile.

“Can I help you?” It’s his coach that breaks your train of thought, walking up to you with a curious look on his face.

“Oh, right,” You say. “I’m just here for Jaehyun.”

He sends you a somewhat pitiful look. “Want me to give him your number and have him call you back later? Jaehyun doesn’t really like responding to date proposals during practice.”

“Excuse me?”

“Hey, coach, it’s fine,” Jaehyun walks over to where you and his coach are standing. Half of his team follows him — some of which are looking at you curiously, while others completely ignore your presence. You turn to Jaehyun with an eyebrow raised and he smiles sheepishly. “Sorry about that, it’s just—”

“—Sometimes all those girls get a little too much?” you ask, tilting your head to the side.

He smiles again. “Yeah, something like that.”

You tell him it’s fine and that you want to talk to him for a second, but it seems that he has different plans from how he grabs your wrist and drags you in the opposite direction of where you wanted. You ask him what the hell he’s doing, but he keeps silent and brings you back to the football field.

Now you’re left standing in between a dozen football players and their coach with Jung Jaehyun’s hand holding yours. Great, this is certainly going to help you get rid of whatever rumor is stirring up at campus about you two.

“Okay, listen up, everyone,” You stare at him with wide eyes as he catches everyone’s attention. “This is Y/N, and she’s my friend, so I don’t want anyone acting stupid around her or I’ll hit them in the head with a football.”

And just like that you’ve been (against your will) introduced to the whole football team. Oh, Jaehyun is so in for it when you get him alone. You swear you’re going to rip all of that healthy hair off his scalp. That doesn’t happen, though. Instead, you kick him in the shin with all your might after having dragged him behind the university building.

“Ow!” He groans and you almost smile, but hold yourself back upon realizing you can’t break character like that. “What was that for?”

“I just don’t like you,” you say, then sigh. “Have you heard what people are saying about us?”

“People are saying stuff about us?”

You roll your eyes at his cluelessness, but not before your heart jumps all the way to your throat at how unbelievably good he looks. This is just objective, by the way, and has nothing to do with your personal opinion. It’s just that nobody should look good after running around a football field for four hours, but somehow, Jung Jaehyun does.

You’re not sure what does it for you — whether it’s his sweaty hair sticking to his forehead or the compression shirt you oh-so-hate literally having become one with his body — but all of it just makes you want to die. Because this is Jung Jaehyun we’re talking about and he’s just some guy that thinks he’s better than everyone else and you don’t like him at all.

But then your brain decides to remind you that this is also the Jung Jaehyun that wants to make the national team and picks flowers for his mom and drives you to school when you’re running late. And your heart doesn’t like that. Not at all.

“People think we’re dating,” you say finally. “Because you drove me to school.”

“And?”

“What do you mean ‘and?’” You glare in his direction, but he only shrugs. “Do you know how fast rumors spread around this university? Soon everyone is going to—”

“And what if they do? Do you really care that much what others think of you?” You open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. He tilts his head to the side, and when you don't respond, he takes a step in your direction, only another step away from caging you against the wall of the building. For some weird reason, it makes you nervous having him this close to you, so you step back until your back hits the wall. “Besides, would it really be that bad if what they’re saying were true?”

“What?”

You should tell him he’s stupid, or punch him, or do anything, but instead, you do absolutely nothing. Physically, that is — your mind is a whole different story. Your thoughts fly around in your brain so fast it makes you dizzy. Or maybe it’s Jaehyun’s words that are making you lightheaded, you’re not sure.

Actually, you’re not sure about anything at that moment. Your first thought is that he’s acting way too arrogant again — that he’s trying to somehow make you admit you want to date him, or something like that. And that’s so ridiculous because you don’t want to date him at all — he’s truly pushing his luck now. Has ever since he asked to be your friend.

But then images of him flash through your mind, his smile, his laugh, his passion, and it hits you like a truck — the nausea is so strong you think you might pass out. He’s gone completely insane, suggesting something like that — there’s no doubt about that — but aren’t you equally as insane for even playing out that scenario in your head? No. You throw the thought onto the ground and stomp on it, like it’s useless. Which, essentially, it is.

No, you’re not doing this today.

Upon seeing your expression. Jaehyun takes a step back. Maybe he thinks you’re disgusted. A part of you wants to assure him that you’re not, but the rational part screams at you to shut the fuck up and say nothing. Incidentally, it seems that Jaehyun has something to say.

“Relax, it’s just a joke.”

That throws you off for multiple reasons. One, he’s acting like you just ruined his fun or something, and it makes you mad. Like it’s not you that just went through a year’s worth of scenarios in your head, trying to figure out what to say. Trying to figure out what to think. Two, he could've said it was a joke sooner, instead of just standing there like an idiot, seeing your face form into an expression of pure horror.

And three, you feel so fucking stupid for not even considering it being a joke. Because it seems so obvious now, as you think back on it, that he was just kidding. God, where did you even get the idea he was being serious?

The embarrassment mixed with his gaze gets too overwhelming, so you do what any sane person would have done in your position. You walk away.

You make it twenty steps before guilt stirs up in your stomach. What if he’s mad? What if he thinks you hate him? You truly have no idea why you even care about that — you don’t care about it, right? He’s just some football player, you remind yourself. A football player that hit you in the head with a football. But thinking about that doesn’t help at all, considering how getting hit in the head with a football was exactly how this thing started.

What if it had never happened? What if he hadn’t kicked that ball in the wrong direction? He would have been a stranger to you, and you would only be a face in the crowd for him. Your name would never settle on his tongue. His dad wouldn’t have to get mad at him for taking the car without permission. And you… you wouldn’t have to feel guilty for walking away from your school’s football team’s forward center.

But you wouldn’t have known that warm feeling spreading in your chest upon seeing his smile, either. Nor would you know how it feels like to feel happy just by talking to someone. Or just by listening to someone speak.

The walk home suddenly becomes so long you almost want to sit in the middle of the path and wait for Jaehyun to come along. It turns out you don’t have to do that, because just as the thought crosses your mind, you hear the revving of an engine and an all too familiar black BMW appears a couple meters to your left. You don’t know if it’s fully surprising, but it definitely is somewhat unexpected when Jaehyun stops the car and rolls down his window to stick his head out in your direction.

“You getting in or what?”

For some reason, your stomach decides to do a dozen flips at that moment, but you ignore them and climb into the car. Jaehyun doesn’t say anything at first — his eyes simply scan you quickly, resting a little longer on your eyes than necessary, and he turns on the engine again after he’s made sure your seatbelt is fastened.

“I bought coffee,” he says finally, eyes fixed on the road, and motions towards a cup of coffee lying in his cup holder. “Latte with two cubes of sugar, right?”

“Yeah,” you say, grinning. “Thank you.”

His eyes flick to yours just for a moment, and his lips quirk up in a smile when he notices your expression. “You’re not annoyed?”

You look at him — his sweaty clothes, his stupid smile, the soft tapping of his fingers against the steering wheel. The trees outside are passing by quickly, the sound of the car blending in with the music quietly playing from the speakers. You’re hesitating for a split second, hand tightening around the cup of coffee that feels warm under your fingertips. The sun comes into sight at that moment, blending you as you first look at it, then lighting up the inside of the car.

All hesitation fades, but not abruptly — it just flows out of your mind like water in a river. The sun remains still, but fragile, like what you say right now might scare it away. But you have no intention of scaring it away — why would you? It’s the same sun that envelopes you in a tight hug as you feel hopeless, the same sun that makes you smile. The sun that piqued your interest and doesn’t want to let go.

“Well,” you take a sip of your coffee. “You’re a little stupid, but I already knew that. So no,” The sun lights up Jaehyun’s face as you smile. “I’m not annoyed.”

It’s as the words leave your mouth that you realize they’re true.

—

After that, you and Jaehyun start walking home from school together.

On days you finish class before him, he sits in the library and does his homework until you text him that you’re done. When his practice lasts until five, you make your way over to the field and sit on the tribunes, waiting for him to end the match. He loses track of time so often you almost become friends with his coach — a guy you find out has lots of comments to make as he watches the boys play. You don’t understand half of what he’s saying at first, but gradually, you learn — life makes a lot more sense after he explains what offside means.

Sometimes Jaehyun even drives you to school (he claims he’s got permission, but you don’t really believe him) even though his classes start half an hour after yours. One those days you pay him back by buying him Red Bull and watching him get way too much energy from it.

Today is no different. You’re walking out the front door with a bag containing Red Bull and some side dishes from your mom in your hand, phone pressed against your ear as you try calling Jaehyun for the nth time. Your mom shouts something in your direction just as you’re closing the door behind you, but you don’t hear her, too focused on the sound of Jaehyun’s voicemail.

“Asshole,” You mumble to yourself, dialing his number again. A long sigh escapes your lips when he doesn’t answer. Again.

The lights in his room are off when you walk over there to check, so you scratch that from the list of possible places to look. Where else can he be at eight in the evening? You think for a while, and then an idea pops into your head.

The football field.

You nod as if agreeing with yourself and start the walk to the one place you suspect Jaehyun might be. He better actually be there, because it’s getting dark and you have no other ideas as to where he might be. Plus, you’re not that keen on looking for him for three hours this late.

The way to the football field seems much longer than it really is when you don’t have Jaehyun by your side and when the wind starts messing up your hair. By the time you’ve arrived it’s completely dark outside, and the only source of light is the moon and the lampposts by the small stadium. You almost want to go back when you don’t see Jaehyun anywhere — the air is getting chilly and you’re getting annoyed — but then, finally, he comes into your sight and you sigh in relief.

He’s wearing black shorts and a jacket to shield him from the cold, one hand pushing his hair away from his face like always, while the other is holding his football. You stand by the edge of the field, watching as he places the ball on the middle of the fake grass. He doesn’t see you, too focused on aiming at the goal, so you just silently observe him as he kicks it, scoring on the first try. This time, he doesn’t scream in victory, but you can glimpse the shadow of a smile on his face.

It brings a smile to your own features, seeing him this happy. He shoots the ball a couple more times, successfully scoring even as he increases the distance between him and the goal, his hair bouncing each time he runs across the field. You spot his phone on one of the side benches and roll your eyes softly, putting it into your pocket instead so he doesn’t forget it later. Your eyes dart back to his figure just as he kicks the ball again — this time missing — and you hear the groan of frustration he lets out even though you’re standing twenty meters away.

Overachiever, you think to yourself, noticing how his thighs are a little shaky as he walks over to get the ball again. How long has he been here? He misses again, and you frown as he shouts out in anger. Yeah, he’s definitely been out here way too long.

“Hey, Mr. I’m-too-busy-to-answer-my-calls,” you finally shout, catching his attention. The corners of his mouth lift up in a smile when he sees you, and you wave the bag of food and Red Bull at him from afar. “You hungry?”

He jogs over to you with the football tucked under his arm. “You bet.”

There are bags under his eyes, and his forehead is littered with sweat. He looks tired. Still, he’s smiling — and somehow, from under all that exhaustion, the smile reaches his eyes.

“How long have you been here?” you ask him, sitting down on the grass. He sits across from you watching with hungry eyes as you unpack the food.

“A little over three hours now, I think.” He opens a can of Red Bull immediately and takes a sip of it, missing the way your eyes grow wide at his response. “I have a game next week, remember? Some club coaches are going to be there, so I need to do well if I want to be noticed.”

You lay out the food and hand him a pair of chopsticks. His shoulders look so slumpy you actually need to swallow down the urge to tell him to go home and rest. He wouldn’t listen to you anyway. Instead, you take some kimchi between your chopsticks and put them against his lips. “You’ll do well.”

He opens his mouth and slides the food off with his teeth. “You think so?”

“Obviously.” You roll your eyes and nudge his leg with your foot. “Now eat. You can’t play for a football club if you’re unconscious.”

Jaehyun hums in response and obeys, stuffing his face full of rice. You eat in silence, slowly chewing on the food as your eyes scan his face. It’s funny, but for the first time you notice the freckles littered across his cheeks. You’d seen them before, you suppose, just never noticed them fully. For a moment, you try to count them, but give up when he starts chewing his food and you lose track of which ones you’ve counted and which ones you haven’t.

You watch as his energy comes back slowly, his expression cheerful as he’s done eating. He helps you clean everything up and throw away the soda cans, then, as you’re getting ready to leave, he bumps your shoulder.

“Let’s play football.”

“What?” You raise your brows, looking at him incredulously. “You want me to play football? Is your brain fried from the Red Bull or something? Let’s just go home.”

He grabs your wrist before you can walk further away and when you turn around, he’s standing there with a pout on his face.

“Just one game,” He pleads, tugging at your hand. “Please?”

The warmth from his skin spreads across your body, and you hesitate. You hate playing sports, and playing with Jaehyun will most definitely result in you having to face the embarrassment of not being able to kick the ball correctly. Still, something jumps in your chest at the fact that you’ll spend less time with him if you decide to just leave. That resolves it.

You sigh. “Fine.”

He grins widely, dragging you across the football field. You have no choice but to follow, painfully aware of his fingers laced through yours. It’s not like it bothers you, at least you don’t think it does, but it’s different than what you’re used to, especially when it comes to him. You decide you’re thinking too much about it, and breathe out as he lets go of you to put the ball in the middle of the field.

What you can’t seem to determine is whether that’s a sigh of relief or loss.

“You know how to play, right?”

“Yeah,” You say, anxiously rummaging through your thoughts in order to remember everything his coach and those stupid football youtube videos told you. You only watched those in case some of Jaehyun’s teammates ever decided to ask you about your opinion on their game, but you suppose this is where they’ll come in handy. “Kind of.”

He laughs at the uncertainty in your voice. “I can work with that.”

He steps back, motioning for you to start. Okay, you think to yourself, it’s going to be easy. You just need to dribble the ball, run past Jaehyun with it, and kick it into the goal. How hard could can that be?

It turns out it can be, and is, very hard. Especially when you’re playing against Jung Jaehyun.

You somehow manage to keep the ball in check until you reach where he’s standing, but that’s when everything goes wrong. It’s like the football somehow levitates to his foot the moment he gets close enough, and his leg doesn’t even have to touch you for him to steal it away from you and score a goal a millisecond later. If you weren’t totally indifferent to football, you might’ve started crying from the humiliation just about now.

You half-expect Jaehyun to end it there, but he doesn’t. Instead, he passes the ball to you and you barely manage to stop it before it rolls further down the field. He smiles that annoying smile of his — not a pitiful one that you were expecting, but rather a genuine one that forces you to swallow down your embarrassment.

This time it works out better — you manage to get past Jaehyun, pushing him in the process which you’re sure would’ve gotten you a red card in a real match.

“Hey, that’s against the rules!”

You laugh, and faintly, from behind the wind rustling in your ears, you hear him laugh, too. His footsteps get louder behind you and you panic, shooting the ball, only halfway aiming at the goal. It doesn’t surprise you when it hits the metal pole on the left and bounces back, right between Jaehyun’s feet.

“You can’t kick it like that if you want to score a goal,” he scolds you playfully as you turn around to face him, a little out of breath while he looks entirely relaxed.

“Well, I don’t know how to kick it to score a goal,” you whine, throwing your hands up in the air.

Jaehyun’s lips form a toothy grin, eyes lingering on your frame for a little longer than they probably should. Your hair’s a mess from running and your shirt has slid down your shoulder, exposing the strap of your bra. It’s weird how the sight suddenly makes his face feel warm — like when you told him he’d do well. Have you always looked this pretty, or is he just going crazy? Maybe you’re right and his brain actually got fried from all that red bull.

He clears his throat as if to clear his thoughts and motions for you to come closer, eyes persistently looking anywhere but your exposed skin. “I’ll teach you, c’mere.”

“Okay.”

You walk closer, gasping softly when he turns you around so you’re facing the goal, your back a couple inches away from his chest. He hates how much he likes that sound, how right it feels when his fingers brush over your skin in order to pull your shoulders back. His hot breath lands on your neck and you try your best not to shiver — he’s just showing you how to play football, for fuck’s sake, it isn’t that deep. The breath you take is, though. Deeper than it should be and you hope to God he doesn’t notice.

“Your foot is supposed to move like this,” He demonstrates with his own foot, but you can’t really focus on anything besides his raspy voice right by your ear. “Just one fluid movement. You get it?”

“Yeah.”

But you don’t understand any of it — the quick beating of your heart, your ears that are ringing, the cold air that suddenly is out of reach when it was forcing itself on you mere seconds ago. None of it makes any sense at all, but you still nod your head in order for it not to seem too weird when you wriggle out of his grasp.

Your eyes meet his when you turn around and he passes the ball to you again. His smile is pretty, just like it always is, but this time, your heart beats harder against your chest when you see it. You kick the ball and prepare yourself to have it taken away from you, but Jaehyun stands still as you pass him. Thanks to that, you manage to run up the field and score a goal.

Before you can think twice about it, you turn around and smile in Jaehyun’s direction, voice laced with excitement as you shout. “I did it!”

He can’t hold back the grin that creeps onto his face. You look happy, he thinks, and your smile looks so sincere it makes something turn in his stomach. He almost wants to run up to you and hold you in his arms — he could’ve used the excuse that he’s proud of you for scoring, it wouldn’t be a complete lie — but he doesn’t want to overwhelm you. Or himself.

“Of course you did, you’ve got the best teacher in the world,” he says instead, walking over to where you’re standing. “Let’s play for real now. First to score five goals wins.”

“So you’re telling me this wasn’t for real?” you ask with a pout and he chuckles. You’re about to walk to the middle of the field to play again when you feel a hand grab your wrist.

Jaehyun turns you around and your confused eyes meet his when he takes a step closer, so his chest is only a few centimeters away from your face. “Wait a second,” he says, but it comes out more like a whisper.

Before you get the chance to protest, his hand leaves your wrist and comes up to tug at your shirt instead. He pulls it further up your shoulder to hide the bra strap peeking through, and the way your skin forms goosebumps under his fingertips makes him bite his lip. It seems this whole action is having the opposite effect than he wanted it to.

“I don’t want you to catch a cold,” he explains.

It’s not a complete lie, but he has to admit covering you up had more to do with his wandering eyes than anything else. Still, you nod sweetly, and continue your way to the middle of the field. He follows you, reminded of what he’s here for. You’re playing football, and if there’s anything he’s good at, it’s that. But if that’s the case, why is his heart beating faster than normal?

He tells himself it’s the adrenaline, but it makes no sense even for him — you haven’t even started playing yet.

Your blood pressure is still way too high as you kick the ball to Jaehyun, you’re sure of it. Yet you try to ignore it and focus on the game — you’re gonna need it. His foot stops it with ease, and in no time, he’s running with the ball almost glued to his shoes. He makes it way too close to the goal you’re supposed to be guarding, before you manage to remind yourself that you're here to play, not watch him mindlessly.

And so you play. It doesn’t take long before Jaehyun scores two goals, shouting in triumph each time like he isn’t playing against someone who’s basically never touched a football before. You don’t mind it as much as you let on, though, and the whole thing actually becomes a little fun when you figure out how to regain the ball.

You run and chase each other — he scores another goal and so do you (you’re pretty sure he went easy on you, just so you wouldn’t be discouraged) and then he scores twice again. That’s five goals, but he doesn’t stop playing, and neither do you. You play for almost fifteen minutes, in which he scores probably more than twenty goals, before you manage to catch him off guard and score a goal he isn’t prepared for.

“Oh my god, did you see that?” You turn to him, jumping up and down like a kid.

“You did well,” he shouts and you grin at him, pride swelling up in your chest at his expression.

That’s when it starts raining. First, it’s just a couple drops, one hitting the tip of your nose, and then it’s pouring down, wetting your hair and clothes. You look up at the sky with a soft smile, faintly hearing Jaehyun whine in the distance.

“How come it’s always raining when we’re together?” he groans.

“The sky wants to cry when it sees you, probably,” you reply, jogging up to him. Maybe if he was busy thinking about the rain, you’d be able to take the ball from him. “Stop complaining so much.”

But ultimately, he was right — the field is slippery and wet when it’s raining. This, you find it in the worst way possible. Namely by slipping right as you’re trying to take the ball from Jaehyun, your hands dragging him down with you as you fall.

Jaehyun feels his heart stop for a second there as both of you fall to the ground. The rain is pouring harder than ever — his shirt is sticky, his hair is wet, but he feels lighter than ever as he props himself on his elbows not to crush you completely. Raindrops trickle down his face and fall onto yours — your nose scrunches as the cold water hits your skin, and the. it's sliding down your jaw to slip into your shirt. You. You're soaking, too, with your white shirt clinging to your body, letting him see the outline of your bra from underneath it. He does his best to keep his gaze on the grass, but his eyes seem to gravitate towards you no matter how hard he tries.

You look beautiful in that moment — he tries for a long time, but finds no other way to describe it. Just beautiful. You're smiling, no, laughing, and he feels your heartbeat against his chest like it's his own.

Suddenly, he wonders what it would be like to kiss you. It's new, that thought, but somehow it also feels familiar. Like it's always been there, buried somewhere inside his head, but only now has come up to the surface. Would you like it if he kissed you? Looking at your face, he truly can't tell.

“Get off of me, Jaehyun!” you fake-cough and he laughs. “Do you want me to die?”

“I know CPR,” he replies, but makes no effort to stop you as you push him off.

You'd expected him to hold back, but he doesn't, so you roll over one too many times, until he's the one lying with his back against the grass and you're straddling him. Oh, fuck.

You freeze in your spot, every muscle in your body tightening as you realize just what you’ve done. It takes you a second to process it — how you’re looking right into his dark eyes, how you can feel his chest heaving from underneath you, abdominal muscles flexing right beneath your core. And even as you understand it, your body just won’t move. Especially when Jaehyun’s hands suddenly rest on your waist, causing your eyes to go wide, but your body staying still.

It’s an innocent act, really. He just wants to help you get off of him. That’s his initial motive, at least. But Jaehyun kind of forgets how to think when his fingers unintentionally slip a little under your shirt and he comes in contact with your bare waist. It’s not like he’s never touched a girl’s skin before — he’s had a couple girlfriends, and he’s touched all of them — but it’s something about the fact that it’s you that makes his heart beat faster.

He wonders for a brief moment whether your heart’s beating like crazy, too. Then you lay the palm of your hand on his bicep and he’s brought back to reality. Right. He wanted to help you get back down on the grass.

His arms lift you off of him with ease and he helps you sit down on the field, your vision and thoughts only now clearing fully. You look at him, a little dazed, feeling the rain drip down your face.

Jaehyun sends you a worried look. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you tell him, only then realizing it’s true.

“Wanna go home?”

You ponder on that for a second, looking up at the sky. It’s pouring and it doesn’t look like it’s going to stop any time soon. At this rate, you’ll probably catch a cold. Still, you don’t feel like going home. For some weird, twisted reason, you want to stay here with Jaehyun.

And so you say, “Not yet.”

He nods, looking as if he’s in deep thought. You lie down on the wet grass next to his sitting frame, sighing deeply. It takes a few nudges of your finger poking into Jaehyun’s ribs for him to understand you want him to lie down with you, and when he does, his face forms into an expression of disgust.

“The grass is wet,” he comments with his nose scrunched.

“Yeah, that’s usually the phenomenon that occurs after it rains.”

He rolls his eyes, but keeps silent. You smile softly, following in his steps. The sky is pitch black, and it’s most definitely way too late to be lying on the wet grass of a football field with Jung Jaehyun, but at that moment, you can’t bring yourself to care.

As subtly as you can, you tilt your head to the side to look at Jaehyun. His eyes are closed, mouth slightly open, and for a second, you think he might have fallen asleep. You shuffle a tad bit closer, just to make sure you can hear his breathing — which you can — but you end up staying there, with your hair resting on his shoulder. You’re unable to tell if it bothers him, so you just lie there, eyes flicking back to the sky and the few stars that are peeking through the clouds.

“You wanna know a secret, Y/N?” He breaks the silence a minute or two later, his head turning in your direction as he looks at you through lidded eyes. The rain drips down his face, all the way to his lips, where it disappears into his mouth. You nod slowly, your heart beating nervously as the air around you seems to thicken. It’s almost like you can sense it — how he’s hesitating, how his heart is about to beat out from his chest.

“I’m scared,” He whispers finally. head falling forward so it rests against yours. “I’m really fucking scared.”

It’s like the earth stops spinning. Though that might just be the feeling of dizziness that comes with your blood pressure skyrocketing momentarily. His forehead burns your skin, but it’s more of a warm embrace rather than deadly flames. The rain’s slowing down, you notice only by watching his face, only a few of his freckles hidden behind raindrops.

“What are you scared of?”

Your voice is equally as quiet, like you’re afraid of scaring him off. Mostly, though, it’s because you don’t trust your voice not to quiver when he’s this close to you. Something about touching him makes you nervous, though you’re not sure why.

“I don’t know. Everything, I guess,” He sighs and pauses, moving his head to rest in the crook of your neck instead. You listen as he takes a few deep breaths, and feel them against the skin of your throat — warm air against cool flesh. “I’m scared that it won’t work out. That I won’t make the national team, and this will all be for nothing.”

You scrunch your nose as he moves away from you to glue his eyes to the sky instead. “You will make the national team, though.”

“Even my parents don’t believe that,” He scoffs, but his voice breaks midway in the sentence and it’s like it tears your heart apart with it. “They don’t even want me to try out for the team, you know. They think I’m wasting my time and energy on something I’m not sure I can achieve. My dad wants me to study law or medicine, and my mom… I think she just wants to stop worrying whether I’ll get a job after college or not.”

You stay silent for a moment, trying to gather your thoughts. Jaehyun’s breathing is heavy, his jaw clenched. You want to do something to ease his mind — hug him, tell him you believe in him, buy him all the red bull in the world — just anything. But you don’t know what to do or what to say, because you’ve never seen him like this. Vulnerable.

Finally, you take a deep breath. “It’s understandable she’s worried—”

“I know, but—”

“You didn’t let me finish,” You want it to come off as sharp, but it doesn’t. It does catch Jaehyun’s attention, though, and he turns to you again. “It’s understandable she’s worried, but if your parents doubt you can make the national team, they must be completely clueless to just how fucking stubborn you are.”

He blinks — you don’t know whether that’s a sign he’s confused or he’s listening attentively. Maybe it’s both.

Without thinking it through too much, you place your hand on his. It’s just your skin resting against his, you’re not brave enough to hold his hand properly, but it still makes your heart pick up its pace. You’re not sure why you do it — whether it is to comfort him or yourself, but something in your stomach jumps as Jaehyun’s eyes flicker down to where your hands are connected.

A sense of fear flashes through your head. What if holding his hand did the opposite of what you wanted? What if he’s disgusted? For a moment, you feel so nervous you think you might die.

But then his fingers move across your skin and you look down just in time to catch him interlacing his fingers with yours. Suddenly, your skin is filled with goosebumps, and you have the suspicion it isn’t solely from the cold rain. You look at him, but his eyes still rest on the grass separating you two. Which is kind of relieving, because you need a second to calm yourself down and recollect your thoughts.

“I mean, look at you,” you pick up where you left off, finally finding the right words, and only then does Jaehyun’s gaze find its way back to your face. “You’re the guy that started playing football against high schoolers in middle school because the people your age got mad you always won. Sorry to disappoint your parents, but you’re gonna make the national team. I know you will.”

His chest heaves with every breath, strands of wet hair all up in his face. It’s stopped raining, and only then do you realize just how cold it is. Jaehyun stays silent for a few moments, his eyes never leaving yours. And just like how people say they drown in someone’s eyes, you find yourself swimming in his gaze. Floating, because drowning would mean dying and you’ve never felt more alive than right now.

Jaehyun forces you out of your thoughts by moving your intertwined hands so they lie between your faces instead.

“Thank you,” he whispers. You’re about to shrug it off, but he cuts you off before you can even finish your sentence. “Don’t you dare say it’s nothing. I mean it.”

“I wasn’t going to say that.”

“You’re a terrible liar,” he smiles for the first time since you lied down on the grass, and you shiver. His eyes don’t fail to notice, and he’s quick to say, “Let’s go home, I’m freezing.”

He’s not freezing, though. Actually, there’s some kind of weird, warm sensation bubbling in his chest as he stands up and pulls you with him. His fingers leave yours, which for some reason makes him feel a little sad, and he takes off his jacket, the cold air hitting him harder than ever. You raise your eyebrows, probably wondering why the hell he’s taking off his clothes when he just said he’s freezing.

“Take this,” he hands you the jacket, which on second thought he realizes is completely soaked through and will probably do nothing to shield you from the cold. Jesus, he feels so dumb he wishes the ground would swallow him up. “Uh, it’s a little wet, but…”

You smile as you take the jacket from his hands. “Thank you.”

Jaehyun watches with a grin as you put it on, rolling up the sleeves that fall past your fingers. He thinks this might have been the best day of his life.

No, he doesn’t think. This time, he knows.

—

You never would’ve imagined yourself sprinting to college at 10am on a Saturday in order to watch a football game, yet here you are.

Truthfully, it’s your own fault. Staying up drinking with your friends the night prior probably wasn’t the best idea, but Dahyun complained you were spending too little time with them and too much time with Jaehyun, so you wanted to make it up to her. Little did you know that would result in you being woken up by your phone ringing, Jaehyun’s voice asking you where the fuck you are.

“I’m on my way, don’t worry,” You had responded, obviously lying — for what reason, Jaehyun wasn’t sure, because he clearly heard it in your voice that you were barely awake. “I’ll be there in fifteen.”

That was fifteen minutes ago. Turns out you aren’t a complete liar, though, because just as your phone shows 10:15 (meaning the game starts in five minutes) you have reached the football field, where the tribunes are pretty much packed. You look around to find Dahyun or Beomgyu, but there’s too many people, so you walk closer to the sidelines instead, hoping to spot Jaehyun’s coach.

You see him outside of the locker room — he’s surrounded by the whole football team, and you catch a glimpse of Jaehyun in his black uniform. His brows are furrowed as he says something, maybe he’s explaining some playing strategy, and then his teammates are nodding along and the coach pats him on the back. You smile softly at the scene, but then a voice announces that the game is starting in two minutes through the speakers and you have the sudden urge to wish Jaehyun good luck.

“Jaehyun!” You shout, jogging up to him just as he’s about to follow his teammates onto the field. He turns around, and his confused expression molds into a grin as his eyes meet yours.

“You made it,” He says, and you nod. His gaze moves down to your body, and you wonder if you put on your shirt the wrong way or something, but then he smirks. “Nice jacket, by the way.”

You furrow your brows and look down, only for your heart to skip a beat as you realize what you’re wearing. His jacket. The one he gave you when you were playing football a couple days ago, and you never bothered to give it back because you always forgot about it. And because it smells nice, but you’d never admit that.

Shit. You must’ve put it on by accident due to being in a hurry this morning.

“Oh, I was just about to take this off, actually. I just brought it with me to give it to you and—”

“Keep it,” He cuts you off with that awful smirk on his face. Does the football field give him some sort of confidence boost or something? “It looks better on you, anyway.”

It’s almost suffocating, the warmth stirring up in your chest at his words. Like your heart’s tightening and not letting you breathe, except you’re breathing just fine, almost getting drunk on the amount of air in your lungs. It’s a paradox, you suppose, just like you desire to be with him simultaneously to how you hate your heart for beating faster around him.

“Thanks,” You say. One look at the field and the tribunes overfilled with people makes you remember how much of an important day this is to Jaehyun, so you take a deep breath and say, “Good luck, by the way. Not that you need it.”

He smiles as the judge blows into his whistle, signaling the game is starting. “How about a good luck kiss?”

“Now you’re really pushing your luck, Jung Jaehyun,” You literally feel your inside turn to mush as you push him further onto the field. “Go play before they start without you. Go!”

“You gotta watch the whole thing, okay?” He shouts, running backwards as the ball is kicked for the first time and the game starts. “Don’t you dare leave!”

And just like that, he runs to help his teammates, leaving you on the sidelines with a smile on your face.

Dahyun and Beomgyu are still nowhere to be seen, so you ask Jaehyun’s coach whether you can sit on the side benches a few moments later when your legs start to get tired from standing. He’s standing alone, too focused on the game to talk to anyone — at least until you approach him. Much to your surprise, he seems like he expected your question and takes you to where the substitute players are seated.

“Thank God you finally came,” Jaehyun’s coach says as you both sit down, watching the players run across the field. “Jaehyun looked like he was about to cry when I told him there were ten minutes left before the game and you still hadn’t shown up.”

You chuckle. “I think you’re over-exaggerating, Coach.”

Your eyes are glued to the field when Jaehyun’s team scores their first goal — Jaehyun cheers loudly and so does the audience, and you see a soft smile on his face as he pats his teammate’s back. He looks proud and happy — it’s nice seeing him like that after all the nights he spent preparing for this match.

“You’re kidding, right?”

You turn your head in the coach’s direction momentarily, confused. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he sends you a knowing smile that you miss when your gaze flicks back to the game. “I’m not over-exaggerating. He’s crazy about you. At practice, he’s unfocused, because he’s waiting for you to come. He leaves early and says he’s tired, but instead of going home, he drives to the coffee shop. Some days his eyes will be drooping and he won’t talk to anyone, but then you sit on the sidelines and suddenly, he’s the happiest man alive.”

The opposing team scores and your heart sinks in your chest, Jaehyun’s frustrated scream filling your ears. You don’t know whether he’s screaming so loudly, or if you’re just hearing his voice because he’s all that matters to you on that field. The coach’s words are like a ticking bomb inside your brain — you can tell from how he’s looking at you from the side that he wants to say something more. Quietly, you pray he won’t, that he’ll forget about this conversation, that your heart will calm down. That Jaehyun will win and you’ll go back home praising him for his skills and he will be happy and you won’t have to think too much about everything that’s messing with your head.

“I mean, I don’t know what’s going on inside his head, but what I do know is that I’ve never seen Jaehyun act like that before. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he might be in love with you.”

“Good thing we both know better, then,” you reply, but your voice is shaky. Insincere. “Besides, even if he did feel that way, I don’t like him like that at all.”

You’re not sure whether you’re trying to convince Jaehyun’s coach or yourself.

When the judge announces a break and Jaehyun comes to sit by your side about ten minutes later, there’s a million thoughts inside your head, but you push all of them back to send Jaehyun a smile.

“You didn’t leave,” he says breathlessly.

“Yet.”

He pouts. “Mean.”

You watch as he gets a bottle of water and opens it above his head. The water splashes in his hair and trickles down his face while the sun illuminates his frame. His uniform is clinging to his body with sweat, legs just slightly shaking when he stands up so the water doesn’t spill on you. He looks beautiful, you realize with a bitter heart — so beautiful it makes you want to rip your hair out.

“You’re staring.”

“Oh, shut up,” you scoff, breath hitching in your throat at his comment and smirk. “I was only looking to tell you you look awful.”

He’s about to retort something, but the whistle blows again and he needs to leave. A little too early for your taste. You get that he’s here to play football, but surely they can afford to give him five more minutes to relax? Your hand moves before your mind, grabbing his wrist before he walks away and turning him around.

“I won’t leave, just so you know. I was just joking.”

You’re not sure why you say it or why you’re so reluctant on letting him go, but Jaehyun doesn’t question your behavior. At least not out loud.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” he grins, teeth on display as the wet hair falls into his eyes.

The judge shouts at him to get back immediately and so, a little panicked and a little infatuated, you reach forward without thinking too much and push the hair strands out of his face. You’ve thought about doing it so many times that it doesn’t dawn on you that you actually pushed his hair out of his eyes before your gaze meets his and you notice the shock on his face.

“So your aim won’t suck,” You explain quickly. “Don’t want you to hit anyone in the face just because your hair’s in your eyes.”

Jaehyun tries his best to keep the blush from creeping up his neck at your touch and at the way you seem nervous, too. Silently, he makes a promise to himself that if he wins this game, he’ll tell you he wants you to come to every single one of his games from now on. If he doesn’t… well, that would be really fucking embarrassing and he’s trying to impress you here, so he decides to throw that option away completely.

“Right,” he says to you, unable to hide his smile.

And then he’s running away with a shit-eating grin on his face.

When there’s two minutes left of the match and Jaehyun’s team is winning by three goals, you’re smiling like crazy, ready to start shouting in glee any second.

But as Jaehyun runs close enough for you to see his face clearly, he doesn’t look happy at all. Your eyebrows furrow as you look at him, and in that moment, you truly wish you could read his mind. He should be celebrating, no? It’s certain his team will win.

That’s when you remember what he said that night roughly a week ago: Some club coaches are going to be there, so I need to do well if I want to be noticed.

He hasn’t scored any goals for his team, except one that was a penalty kick. You look at him again, and this time it’s obvious — the shame in his eyes. You want to shout at him that he’s stupid to think he did bad just because he hasn’t scored some extraordinary goal, but instead, you settle on squeezing the arm of the bench as hard as you can, until your knuckles turn white.

“You love him, don’t you?”

“What?”

You wish the question surprised you more than it did, and you definitely wish the answer to it didn’t pop up in your head immediately. Easily, like it’s an exam question you’ve studied for a week to answer, the exact question you expected to be asked. But you’ve put the pieces together — whether that happened the day he drove you to school or ten seconds ago, you don’t know — and the puzzle doesn’t need any more solving.

“You love Jaehyun,” the coach repeats, and this time, your whole body breaks out in flames at his words.

“Yeah,” you say finally, eyes on Jaehyun as he manages to take the ball from someone on the opposing team. “Yeah, I do.”

Jaehyun’s foot moves smoothly — one fluid movement, just like he told you — as he kicks it. It cuts through air quickly, but it’s enough time for everyone to hold their breaths in suspense, the tribunes growing deadly quiet. You don’t dare make a sound. But then it falls right into the goal, passing by the keeper’s shaky hands and the silence shatters with the sound of Jaehyun’s scream. It’s joy, pure happiness in the form of his voice and when he falls down on his knees with a smile wider than ever, you think you’d do just about anything to see him this happy again.

His teammates surround him like moths drawn to a flame as the judge announces the game is over, mere seconds later. You’re just like them, in a way, because you can’t hold yourself back from standing up and walking onto the field yourself.

“Jaehyun!”

He turns from his teammates, meeting your gaze from where he’s standing a couple meters away from you. You send him a smile and suddenly, something wet is settling in the edge of your eyes. You blink it away, kind of embarrassed, yet it doesn’t stop you from practically running into his arms as he spreads them invitingly.

You wrap your arms around his waist. nuzzling your head in his chest as his arms pull you into a warm embrace. His team is probably confused to no end, he thinks, but really, as long as it doesn’t bother you, he doesn’t care. No, actually, he does care, but only about the elation that stirs up in his heart at being this close to you, at smelling your hair, hearing your breath. It’s stupid, probably, but for the first time, his disappointed father wasn’t the first person to occupy his thoughts after he scored.

It was you.

He pushes you away softly, only far enough to look down on your face while keeping his arms around your middle.

“Hi.”

You smile up at him and it’s perfect. All of it — the crowd screaming for him, the adrenaline in his veins, you. He loves all of it.

And so he responds with a “Hey,” and does what any other sane person would do.

He kisses you.

He’s not sure what gives him the final push. Whether it’s the adrenaline from the match, your smile, or that intense feeling of pure love that fills him up to the brim, until it finally spills over and his lips land on yours.

It’s not like he imagined, the kiss. In his daydreams, his pulse was steady and his heartbeat slow, lips moving in sync with your without mistake. Now, his palms are getting sweaty and his heart is beating out of his chest and there’s so much he wants to feel at once that his lips aren’t enough. His hands rest on your waist, but they shiver, and he wonders if it bothers you. You don’t seem to mind, though, so he brings his fingers to tilt your chin up a little, slipping his tongue inside your mouth.

The sun warms up your face when he deepens the kiss — at least that’s what you tell yourself, feeling your whole body heat up the moment your chest is pulled flush against him. Your fingers sink into his hair, heart beating dangerously fast as you taste him on your tongue. It’s like some sort of mantra — just Jaehyun, Jaehyun, Jaehyun inside your head.

Even as he pulls away to breathe, all the cheering coming from his teammates barely reaches your ears, drowned out by the sound of his breathing heavy against your lips.

You love him. There’s no doubt about that; not anymore. There might’ve been before — you can’t really remember when your brain’s foggy from the fact that you just kissed Jung Jaehyun — but now, you simply feel like your heart will explode any second if he doesn’t kiss you again.

“Y/N,” He says instead and you look at him expectantly.

“Yeah?”

“You wanna know a secret?”

“Always,” you reply, voice a little shaky. It’s true, though — you want to hear all his secrets and store them away in the deepest corner of your soul along with all the small moments you’ve been hiding there ever since you met him.

“I’m in love with you,” he breathes finally, and you feel his grip on your waist tighten. Like he’s afraid you’ll run away from him. “I’m really fucking in love with you.”

Really, though, you’re far from running away. If anything, you wish you could stay in this moment forever — looking up at his face, lip pulled between his teeth and his chest heaving with each breath. The people around you are a part of the background, you can faintly hear some whispers of Jaehyun’s name, but almost everyone is busy celebrating their win. You’re also busy celebrating, your heart doing somersaults, your brain still trying to process what was just said.

Jung Jaehyun is in love with you. And you’re in love with him.

“Can you please say something? I’m about to die from embarrassment here.”

“Sorry,” you giggle, looking at the way Jaehyun’s scratching his neck. “It’s just that this is the first time I’m seeing you this nervous. It’s cute.”

He puts on an utterly scandalized expression, burying his face in his hands as his ears go red. “Cute? Oh my God, now I’m going to have to switch football teams and—”

“I’m in love with you, too, stupid,” you cut him off with a grin, pulling him closer so your chests are touching again and you have to lift your head up to look him in the eyes. “Even if your shirt is soaked with sweat.”

“You like it when I’m all sweaty, though.” Suddenly, he’s regained his confidence, making your heart beat harder when his hands cup your cheeks and he leans down to nuzzle his nose against yours. Is it awful that you feel something turn in your stomach at the sight of his bare arms this close to your face? Probably — but honestly, you don’t care. “Don’t deny it. I’ve seen how you’re looking at me during practice.”

Your breath hitches and you push him away, trying your best to ignore the warmth spreading across your body. “You’re delusional, Jung Jaehyun.”

“I’m also your boyfriend, so I’d say it’s a win,” He grins, intertwining his fingers with yours, but then his smile falls for a moment, replaced by a tentative gaze in your direction. “I am your boyfriend, right?”

“Yeah,” You smile and the gleeful expression returns to Jaehyun’s face. “Yeah, you definitely are.”

—

Jaehyun is impatient. Always has been, and probably always will be.

Only that until now, it hasn't been a problem. In fact, his coach always used to say that his restlessness is what makes him a great football player. That it's a blessing.

But right now, as Jaehyun finds himself getting impatient at his football game because his mind is filled with thoughts of you, he thinks it's more like a curse. A strong one at that. Because how the fuck is he supposed to focus on kicking a football when you're sitting on the tribunes, waiting for him in the tiniest skirt he's ever seen?

Okay, so maybe it's his own fault, because you did ask him what you should wear to his game this weekend and he had picked out the skirt himself. But you had sent him a picture of it on the floor, not around your hips, and he never would’ve imagined it being this short. Besides, had he known you’d wear a low-cut top with it, he would’ve told you to wear jeans, because dealing with a boner on the field isn’t exactly ideal. He doesn’t even want to think what his teammates will say if they notice his state.

You’re not completely innocent in this matter, though. Putting on that top that makes his eyes linger on your cleavage a second too long and shamelessly staring at him during the whole game is most definitely intentional. You’re not evil, though — it’s just that dating the hottest footballer on the school team is supposed to have its perks, right?

And one of them should be getting to fuck him after a game, because — as much as you hate to admit it — he does look hot all sweaty.

You sit on the bench silently, cheering when Jaehyun’s team scores a goal and blowing kisses in his direction when nobody sees. It’s kind of funny just how quickly you managed to go from being his friend to making out with him every chance you get. Now, after just a month of dating, you know everything about him and yet you want to know more. What you love most, you think, is that there’s always something more to find out.

Like whether Jaehyun will let you drag him into the locker room after the game.

Your prediction after seeing him look in your direction countless times during the match is that he will, but, just like everything about him, it’s uncertain. But that’s just what makes it even more exciting to wrap your arms around his neck after his team has won, standing on your tippy toes to kiss him. It isn’t the first or even twentieth time you’re kissing him, but feeling his lips on yours feels just as amazing as ever.

“Hello to you, too,” he mumbles against your lips, slipping his fingers under your shirt so he can grab your bare waist. It tickles where he touches you, like fire spreading across your skin. “You liked the game?”

“Not really, it was boring,” you tell him and he rolls his eyes with a soft smile. “I don’t even know why I come to these things.”

“Because you love me, that’s why.”

“You’re so overconfident,” you click your tongue, unable to hide your smile as he pulls you even closer, so you’re flush against him. “But I guess seeing you in this uniform makes up for it.”

He grins at your words.

“Told you. You love coming to my games.”

“Mhm.” You rest your head on his shoulder, looking up at him. “Don’t you think I deserve a reward for being such a good girlfriend?”

You watch as he processes your words, eyebrows raising. His lower lip trembles just in the slightest as he figures it out — in the exact same way it does before a big game or when he’s dying to kiss you. He might be sending you a careless look, but from how the tips of his ears are tinted pink, it seems he’s less unbothered by your proposition than what he’d like to be.

“You wanna go home?”

He asks the question casually, but his fingers grip your waist tighter.

“No,” you reply and he furrows his brows, tilting his head to the side. “It’s too far away.”

“Too far away?”

“Mhm.”

You stand on your tiptoes to nuzzle your nose into his cheek, lips lightly brushing over his dimple. He smiles softly and you take the opportunity to press a kiss to his cheek, before moving lower. You can hear him swallow when you kiss down his jaw, head instinctively tilting a little to the side to let you continue onto his neck. He didn’t really plan on giving in this easily — teasing you is his favorite thing, after all — but your wet kisses against his skin are enough to make him cave.

It’s only when your lips reach his collarbones and he feels himself growing hard from underneath his shorts that he remembers you’re standing in the middle of the football field, where everyone can see you.

He inhales sharply as your lips suck on a spot just above his collarbone, hand grabbing your waist tighter. “What do you want to do then?”

“Come with me.” You don’t miss a beat, pulling away to grab his hand.

Jaehyun’s teammates are long gone as you lead him in the direction of the sidelines — some changing in the locker rooms, others probably on their way home by now. The weight of Jaehyun’s hand in yours calms your nerves a little, because — as much as you hate to admit it — he still manages to make you nervous with his presence, especially when he’s in that goddamn uniform and his ego is over the roof.

You drag him further along the football field, and stop by the locker rooms, pressing your ear against the door of the first one.

“What are you doing?”

You don’t reply to his question, just shake your head as you hear the water running from one of the showers, and move on to the next locker room. This one is completely silent when you listen for any noise and you smile in victory, pulling Jaehyun’s hand harder as you slip inside.

“Y/N, what are you-”

You cut him off, pulling at his shirt so he leans down and allows you to kiss him, this time on the lips. He gives in immediately, hands flying to cup your cheeks and tilt your head backwards so he can slip his tongue inside your mouth with ease. You stumble a few steps back, the plan to double-check whether there’s anyone here long gone from your mind as you kiss him.

Jaehyun’s hands fall lower, to your hips, and he pulls you closer only to rest his leg between your thighs. You shiver at this, letting out a shaky breath into his mouth. He smiles against your lips, obviously satisfied by your reaction, and slips one of his hands inside your shirt. You feel it travel upwards, creating goosebumps on your bare skin before he manages to unclasp your bra and take it off so you’re left with only your tank top, nipples showing through the thin fabric.

It’s him that pulls away first, eyes taking in your state and a groan leaving past his lips. “Is it bad I really want to fuck you stupid right now?”

If bad means your panties suddenly feeling uncomfortably wet, then sure, it’s bad. But mostly, you think you might die if he doesn’t touch you again.

“The only bad thing is that you’re not doing anything about it.”

You pout at him, feeling something turn pleasantly in your stomach when he pulls his lip between his teeth, jaw set. He looks so good it drives you insane — shirt sticking to his muscles, thigh on display from where it’s resting between your legs. If he just moved it up an inch or two…

“Jae…” you say, and his eyes move up to look at your pleading face. “Would you please do something?”

He raises a brow, and presses down on your hips, testing the waters. Sure enough, you let out a half-suppressed whimper when your clothed pussy just slightly touches his thigh. He smiles at that, flexing his thigh as he does it again, your nails digging into his biceps as he guides your hips along his leg. It makes your head spin when your pussy is dragged back and forth against his skin, and you practically moan out his name as you tug at his arm.

Tilting his head to the side, he smiles. “You want it that bad?”

“Need it, Jae, please.”

“God, you’re so needy,” he presses his tongue against his cheek. “Alright, if you want it so bad, I guess I’d be really mean not to give it to you, right?”

You don’t need any more assurance. Quickly, you grab the hem of his shirt and pull it over his head, knuckles grazing his sweaty muscles on the way up. Your eyes take a second to admire his bare chest, and you can only imagine how widely he’s grinning from the way you’re rubbing your thighs together in order to ease the heat forming there. You’ll worry about the consequences of your own actions (Jaehyun’s relentless teasing) later, though — for now, you’re more than happy with the promise that he’ll give you what you want.

Goosebumps form on his skin when you press a kiss against his collarbone — picking up where you left off earlier. You smile against the flesh, looking up at him as you let your teeth bite down just slightly, enjoying how his brows furrow and his fingers squeeze your breast in response. His abdominal muscles feel firm under your lips as you kiss them — slowly, because seeing him go crazy is one of your favorite things in the world.

He bites down on his lip as your kisses move further down, tongue swiping over his abs before you reach the waistband of his pants. You can see the outline of his cock through his shorts — probably hard and leaking for you, and the thought forms a throb between your legs. Letting your fingers move downwards, you palm him through the fabric, which makes a soft groan escape past his lips.

“Stop.” You look up as Jaehyun tugs at your hair, his eyes hazy and chest heaving. Confused, you blink up at him, but he only pulls you up and against him, his cock just barely rubbing against your thigh. “Wanna feel you.”

You don’t really get to respond as he drags you further into the locker room, walking all the way to the corner of the room, where the lockers are.

It’s unexpected when he spins you around, hands positioned on your hips as he pushes you softly so your chest comes in contact with the cool locker. You gasp quietly as the cold seeps through the thin fabric of your shirt, your first instinct to pull back, but Jaehyun holds you in place. His hand slips under your top and comes up to play with your tits to warm you up, and you sigh into his touch when he pinches your nipple lightly.

“Okay?” he asks, his breath hitting your ear, and it takes you a second to register he actually wants you to answer.

“O-okay,” you mumble shakily upon feeling Jaehyun’s other hand on your inner thigh, slowly inching towards the throbbing between your legs.

His fingers pinch your thigh and you shudder, biting your lip when his knuckles brush over your clothed pussy from underneath your skirt. Your panties are completely soaked, some of your arousal probably seeping onto Jaehyun’s fingers when he rubs his fingers against you again — slowly, so softly you have to stop yourself from whimpering for him to give you more.

He understands it even without your words, though — probably from how your hips involuntarily move back to meet his fingers — and lifts up your skirt so he can pull your panties down your legs. You help him eagerly, lifting your legs and meeting his gaze for just a moment as you take the opportunity to turn your head. He sends you that smile that makes your knees buckle before grabbing your hips again and pulling them against the bulge in his pants.

There might be a layer of clothing separating your pussy from his cock, but you still let out a mewl at the feeling of finally creating some friction. You just know Jaehyun’s wearing a grin when he pulls away from you again, only to replace his hips with his fingers that make you shiver when they come in contact with your bare cunt. He slides them back and forth through your folds, spreading your arousal across your pussy before he rubs your clit in circles, making you clench around nothing. Your head falls against the locker, a small whimper escaping past your lips.

“Yeah?” He retracts his fingers momentarily, only to deliver a slap to your cunt — which makes your mouth part in a broken moan. “This okay, too?”

You shiver, pushing your hips back even more. “Yeah.”

His hand grips your hip tightly as he teases your entrance with his finger before slipping it inside, your walls sucking him in immediately. You moan his name, spreading your legs wider so he can start slowly moving his finger, curling it inside your cunt in a way that makes you clench around him. Your mouth falls open as he adds another finger, pumping them in and out of your hole so well your legs feel weak after only a few pushes.

If it weren't for your hazy mind, you definitely would have felt embarrassed at the loud sounds of his fingers fucking you, but with his digits deep inside of you and his cock pressing against your ass from behind, you can't bring yourself to care. It feels so good you don’t want it to stop.

Except it does — a mere twenty seconds later, as you feel the familiar sensation of rapture start to stir up in your stomach, Jaehyun pulls his fingers away like you weren’t so close to reaching your high.

You turn around with a pout on your face, legs slightly shaking. “Why’d you stop?”

You feel like you could cry, but Jaehyun only chuckles, leaning down to plant a kiss on your lips. You lean into his touch, whimpering into his mouth when he squeezes one of your tits.

“Want you to cum on my cock,” he says against your lips and you shiver, feeling his hands drop to your hips, pulling you closer so his still clothed cock rests just beneath your throbbing pussy. “Okay?”

“Yes, please.”

He smiles, eyes crinkling as your hands move to pull down his shorts and boxers, mouth parting slightly when you take out his cock. You almost want to get on your knees and suck him off, but the painful throbbing between your legs tells you otherwise, so you only stroke him a couple times, kissing his jaw, before letting him turn you around again.

His hands come up to your waist to lift your shirt over your head and throw it off somewhere. You let out a small whimper when your bare tits are pushed against the lockers, arousal pooling between your legs.

“What if somebody comes in?” you ask, admittedly more to hear his voice than to get an actual answer out of him. You're way past worrying about someone coming in by now.

Jaehyun clicks his tongue and you feel his cock press against your cunt, softly grazing your folds and coating itself in your arousal. “I guess you’ll just have to be a good girl and stay quiet so nobody does.”

Clenching around nothing at his words, your hands come up to hold the lockers so you don't fall to your knees from the simple sensation of him slapping your pussy with his dick. You try pushing your hips back to make him hurry, but he's intent on dragging his cock through your folds painfully slowly, paying no mind to the way you whimper as he comes in contact with your puffy clit.

Thank God he's an impatient person, because his teasing doesn't last more than five seconds before he's lining up at your entrance, pushing in slowly with his hands coming up to play with your tits. You lean into his touch, moaning softly at the stretch and spreading your legs further to help him slide in. You don't really need to, though, because you're so wet he thrusts into your cunt with ease.

“Shit, I love you so much,” He mumbles into your ear, a small groan escaping past his lips as he bottoms out, your walls tightening around him. “Love fucking this pussy. Always so wet and warm for me.”

You hold harder onto the lockers as Jaehyun starts rocking his hips into yours — slow, shallow thrusts that already have you biting your lip to muffle any sounds that threaten to spill from your mouth. Faintly, you hear the slam of a locker in one of the other rooms, and it only makes your cunt clamp down even harder on his cock.

“You love it too, don’t you? Love having your pussy stuffed with my cock?”

Jaehyun’s grip on your hips tightens as he pushes deeper into your cunt, your moan way too loud for it to be classified as quiet. You only nod in response to his question, your eyes rolling to the back of your head at the feeling of him pulling almost entirely out before pushing his cock back in, so deep you swear you feel him in your stomach.

He groans at how you’re sucking him in, landing a soft slap on your ass. “‘Course you do, that’s all you ever think about, right? Even when we’re in public, all you want is to get fucked dumb.”

You nod dumbly. You whimper loudly when he picks up the pace of his thrusts, your pussy tightening around his cock. It takes him less than three rolls of his hips to find that one spot that makes your toes curl, and when he does, he makes an effort to hit it repeatedly, so fast it makes your head spin.

“Yeah? Feels good?”

“Mhm,” you choke out. And as if you’re not shaking from pleasure already, he brings his fingers to rub circles into your clit, his arms practically holding you up. “Please don’t stop, Jaehyun, please—”

It confuses him a little — why you think he would even want to stop right now, with the way you’re clamping down on his cock, moaning his name in a way that has him struggling not to cum right then and there. His own hips stutter just as you start clenching and unclenching around him, your moan growing into broken whimper and incoherent mumbling of how good it feels and how you want him to go faster.

And so he does, grabbing your hips harder so he can push you further onto his cock, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. His thrusts make the locker bang softly against the wall, but all you can focus on is the way his cock is pistoning in and out of your cunt, filling you up to the brim.

“You gonna cum, baby?” he rasps into your ear as you start shaking from underneath him. “Gonna cum all over my cock?”

You only nod frantically, mumbling something he can’t make out and then, with a last few rubs of his fingers against your clit, the knot in your lower stomach snaps. He cums not too much later, groaning against your cheek as he spills his cum inside of you.

Jaehyun lets you come down from your high before he pulls out, smiling to himself at the whine you let out. He gets dressed and helps you put your shirt and panties on, chuckling as he sees your legs shaking when you walk over to him.

“What the hell are you laughing at?” you grumble at him, but it doesn’t really sound threatening when you’re wearing a giddy smile on your face. “It’s your fault, you know. You’re gonna have to carry me home now.”

“Sorry,” he replies, sounding the least sorry he’s ever been. “If it makes you feel any better, I just got hard again from looking at your legs.”

You scoff at that, but let him interlace your fingers as you emerge from the locker room together. It almost surprises you how cold the air outside is compared to how hot it was inside — though you think that might’ve had something to do with other things than just the temperature.

“So,” Jaehyun grins from ear to ear as he speaks up a few moments later. “When do I get to fuck you in the locker room again?”

TAGLIST: @kflixnet @mrkis @ljnfav @shiningdery @qiankunslove @fluffyjaes @the-universe-in-you-jjh @honeym4rk2 @pckeia @baehaechannie @peachjamal @luv4jeno @lunarmindedchild @myjaewoo @kange3939 @bimb0beee

#nct smut #jaehyun smut #jung jaehyun smut #nct 127 smut #nct hard thoughts #jaehyun x reader

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kamaluhkhan · 10 months

Text

all the love we had and lost

pairing: conrad fisher x fem!reader

summary: you come back to cousins beach after a few years away. conrad is not particularly happy that you're back - and you aren't particularly thrilled, either. too bad there's a history (chemistry?) neither of you can deny.

warnings: lots of plot + flashbacks. angst with fluff in betweem. slightly suggestive dialogue/situations but nothing more than the actual show, a guy being pushy about hooking up with reader but nothing happens, mention of injuries and blood throughout, hints of alcoholism, brief mention of dieting (reader is competitive swimmer and deals with certain pressures from that), reader gets her period, takes on too much responsibility and argues with her mother (aka eldest daughter syndrome)

tags: @stargirlsirius-recs, @ifilwtmfc, @qwertyb2577, @allnrsnz, @baconeggndcheez, @peanutbelley, @imogen-skye, @geekinthefuschiahair, @tvije,

a/n: thank you thank you thank you for so much love on my first conrad fic!! i'm so excited to share the rest of the series, so stay tuned :))

read part one here

the best friends of our childhoods are the loves of our lives, and they break our hearts in the worse ways. (fredrik backman)

now — summer, age 18

you throw in some extra sprinkles, along with a few more tablespoons of sugar. belly has a huge sweet tooth. it's the night before her birthday, and you're in the kitchen at the fisher's house baking her coconut confetti cupcakes.

born on june 21st — the summer solstice — belly conklin is the definition of a summer child. she's summer, personified: sunshine, sweet tea, sand, and smiles. having missed so many birthday celebrations, you’re determined to make this year special.

you go to the fridge to grab some eggs, and when you close the door, you're startled by the person standing behind it.

"what are you doing here?" you ask, holding a hand to your chest and setting the carton of eggs on the counter. the joy you felt making birthday cupcakes for belly fades away, replaced with a tingling in your chest. you and conrad hadn’t spoken more than three sentences to each other, or even been in the same room alone, since that morning on the beach. as the distance between the two of you grew, so did your frustration at him.

conrad raises his eyebrow at you. he reaches around you into the fridge and pulls out a beer.

"i should be asking you that."

"the oven at my house is broken and your mom said i could come over."

“i’ve heard that one before,” he mumbles as he leaves the kitchen. you almost can’t believe he brought it up, even if just in a passing, somewhat snarky remark. conrad probably thought you didn’t hear.

these past few weeks, conrad hasn't just been cold towards you — which was a relief as much as it was heart wrenching. he seems more closed off in general, more inclined to spend time with others who hadn't seen him grow up. in fact, you imagine he’s on his way to see nicole now. maybe with her, he can pretend everything is fine. but not with the people in this house, who knew him inside and out.

you would never admit it — if conrad wants to ignore you, you could ignore him just fine — but it was eating you up inside, and it took everything in you not to confront him, to comfort him about whatever he was going through. you’d have arguments when you were kids, but it was nothing a ring pop or tub of cherry jello couldn’t solve. this time is different; the wound is deeper, harder to heal.

you wanted the old conrad back: the sweet boy who cared for you and let you care for him in return.

then — summer, age 14

belly was turning 12, and you wanted to surprise her with homemade cupcakes for breakfast. only, the oven at your house was broken, which meant your intention of baking her birthday treats would have fallen through, if not for susannah’s ever-present generosity.

everyone else was out of the house — you even asked laurel and susannah to take belly shopping to not ruin the surprise. you were decorating the cupcakes when conrad walked in from the deck. his wet hair stuck to his forehead and he was wearing a rash guard, so he probably got back from surfing. he looked paler than usual, even after being in the sun for hours, but you didn’t think much of it at first.

“hey,” he greeted, sounding slightly out of breath. “what are you doing here?”

“the oven at my house is broken, so your mom said i can come over to bake these for belly’s birthday tomorrow.” you gestured at the clumsily decorated treats. the cupcakes had bright pink frosting and rainbow sprinkles. you weren’t a professional by any means, but knew that belly would love them.

“but i’m sure she wouldn’t miss one or two, if you wanna try one,” you offered, smiling at conrad.

he smiled back, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “yeah. yeah, let’s do that. i’m just gonna get changed first.”

conrad walked past you, and that’s when you noticed him limping — along with a bloody gash just below his left knee.

you instantly dropped the spatula back into the half-empty frosting bowl.

“connie, what the hell happened?”

“i’m fine,” he answered. “i wiped out, got cut by the fin of my board.” conrad must have noticed your eyes widened with worry because he grabbed your wrist gently, thumb rubbing soothingly on your pulse point. he was bleeding out on the kitchen floor, and there he was, trying to make sure you were okay.

“i’m fine,” he reassured.

the blood dripping down his leg suggested otherwise. years ago conrad would faint at the sight of blood, and though he’d mostly outgrown that, you knew it still made him queasy. you imagined the pain definitely wasn’t making it easier. without another word, you pulled him into the bathroom and made him sit on the edge of the bathtub. you washed your hands then sat cross-legged in front of him.

“you here to fix me up, sweetheart?” he smirked as he watched you gather supplies from the cabinet underneath the sink, your brows furrowed in concentration.

“what?” you paused, almost laughing. until you saw his wound again, and you got back to work.

“it’s from the hunger games,” he explained. “when katniss finds peeta in the arena? and he’s all, like, injured.”

“well, he was definitely in worse shape than you,” you assured. “your cut’s not that deep, it just looks bad.”

“it doesn’t feel great, either.”

conrad exhaled sharply when you started applying pressure to his leg with a damp washcloth. you placed your other hand on his right knee.

“it’ll be fine, connie. i’ve got you. keep your eyes on me, okay?”

he looked down at you, wet hair framing his face as he offered a short nod.

you gestured at him to take over, and your fingers brushed together when he grabbed the washcloth, but he never looked down. his eyes still followed you as you searched the bathroom for something to cover his wound.

a comfortable silence followed. the two of you used to spend hours talking, sure, but what you loved about spending time with conrad is that silence didn't bother him. you could each be in your own worlds while in the comfort of each other's company, and that was enough.

once the wound was cleaned and the bleeding slowed down, you placed a gauze pad over his cut before wrapping a cloth bandage around it.

“i’m pretty sure it’s ‘you here to finish me off, sweetheart?’,” you remembered.

conrad shook his head. “i’m pretty sure it’s not. i’ve read the book like, three times.”

you move to sit next to him on the edge of the tub.

“how sure are you, connie? because i’m pretty damn sure.”

conrad shrugged. “i’m pretty damn sure, too.”

you rolled your eyes, but with a smile. “okay, fine. we’ll check. but, when you see how wrong you are, you have to come with me to see jaws 2.” it was playing at the local movie theatre during their weekly throwback thursday — you and belly had seen it advertised on your way home from getting ice cream. you had wanted to ask conrad, but couldn’t find the right time.

because you hadn’t meant it to be a date, but you also hadn’t not meant it to be. something changed about how you felt towards conrad that summer; or, maybe, you just figured out what was different about the love you felt towards him compared to everyone else.

(yes, love. again, something you would never admit.)

you thought maybe — maybe he felt it too. there was something different in the way he teased you, laughed with you, looked at you when he thought you couldn’t notice.

you did notice. it happened so much that eventually you decided that either it was all in your head and he didn’t love you that way, or he was also scared of what would happen if he did. which, to be fair, was the position you were in. you were very scared of what would happen if you crossed that line.

“i’ll agree to that,” conrad said. “if you agree to having a picnic with me on the beach. if i have to face my fear of sharks, then you have to face your fear of angry seagulls stealing your food.”

a picnic on the beach. you wondered if this was conrad’s way of subtly asking you on a date. did he also want to cross that line, become something other than friends? he looked at you so eagerly, you hoped he did.

“fine.” you held out your hand. “but you have to protect me from angry seagulls.”

conrad smiled at you brightly as he grasped your hand.

“always.”

in the end, conrad lost the bet. the screening of jaws 2 was cancelled, so you rented it from the video store instead. you got his favourite movie snacks, and some of yours as well, and made sure the couch had the comfiest pillows and the warmest blanket. you felt butterflies just thinking about the two of you watching together, cuddling on the couch.

when the time came though, your plans fell through. the playdates your siblings had lined up both cancelled. your mother had plans to meet a friend at the bar, and claimed she couldn't reschedule. by then your parents were divorced and your father was elsewhere with his new girlfriend, so it fell to you to babysit your siblings.

conrad came over anyway: he helped you make rice and lentils for dinner, convinced your brother to eat his vegetables, and let your sister paint his nails. the four of you watched night at the museum and ate all the junk food you had gotten, with you and conrad sitting on opposite ends of the couch, but stealing glances and shy smiles at each other. when your mother came home, a bit after midnight and a little tipsy, she got angry that you’d kept the twins up so late and cheated on the diet she had so carefully planned for you — to keep you in shape for swimming, she claimed. you rolled your eyes, and that made her angrier. without you saying anything, conrad took the twins upstairs to get ready for bed as you and your mother argued. by the time conrad walked back downstairs, your mother had gone into the living room for another drink and you were in tears. he asked if you were okay, and you told him to go home.

you never talked about that night again, and everything went back to the way it was: with neither of you crossing that line.

now

the only reason you let belly drag you to nicole’s party is because it’s her birthday.

as soon as you enter the house, nicole and the other debutantes whisk belly away to a table filled with elaborate cakes. you can’t help but feel slightly embarrassed by how elegant they look in comparison to the cupcakes you made her.

"come on," taylor groans. "let's get a drink."

taylor grabs two beers and hands one to you. you gratefully accept. the two of you catch up for a bit, when suddenly jeremiah starts serenading belly in an outrageously funny musical number. you laugh along with them, until you catch a glimpse of conrad with nicole on the couch at the other end of the room. nicole is sitting in conrad's lap, and she leans over to whisper something in his ear before kissing his cheek. your entire body heats up.

conrad was right before: you were jealous. as frustrated as you were with him, you were even angrier at yourself for feeling that way.

"i’m gonna go find the bathroom!” taylor says, practically shouting over the music.

"okay!” you yell back. “i’m gonna go get another drink."

you know all too well that it isn’t a good habit to get into, but you need something stronger if you’re going to survive this party. you examine the drink table, finally picking out some mediocre tequila. you take a shot, then another.

“tequila. my kind of girl.” someone declares, creeping up behind you.

it’s a terrible pick up line, and you already have a feeling that the guy trying to flirt with you is some rich entitled asshole.

but, the guy — liam — can hold a decent conversation, and he’s cute enough.

he’s no conrad, though. you take another shot when that thought crosses your mind, and force yourself to flirt with leo. liam. right, liam.

liam leans in close, pretends to listen to you, lets his gaze linger on the deep v-neck of your shirt. you’re so close, you can smell the alcohol on his breath.

“five minutes,” you boast after he asks how long you can hold your breath underwater. somehow, the conversation veered towards your time as a competitive swimmer. you’re just the right amount of tipsy that your inhibitions start fading away.

“wow,” liam says. “i have to say, i’m glad you didn’t have that training camp this summer.”

you bat your eyelashes at him. “oh? why is that?” you lean closer, trailing a finger down his chest.

“because then i wouldn’t be able to do this.”

liam kisses you then, and you kiss back. he slides his tongue in your mouth, runs his hands over your body. you feel nothing. it’s fine.

“let's go upstairs.”

liam’s grabbing your wrist before you have a chance to answer. as he tries to tug you up the stairs, your eyes meet conrad’s from across the room.

suddenly, you feel nauseous. you rip away from liam’s grip and place a hand on the wall next to you to steady yourself.

liam turns around sharply. “what is it?”

“i changed my mind, actually. let’s just hang out downstairs.”

liam grabs your wrist again, his grip tighter than before. “don’t be a tease.”

this time, your voice comes out louder. “i just changed my mind. that doesn’t make me a tease.”

“don’t be a bitch, then,” he scoffs, and you’re this close to breaking this guy’s nose. “do you wanna fuck, or not?”

“i don’t,” you answer instantly, struggling to break free from his grip.

“okay, whatever. we don’t have to go all the way, but we can still go upstairs, and have a good time.”

he manages to drag you up two steps as you strain against his iron grip, now almost cutting off your circulation. your heartbeat quickens and you feel dizzy. finally, you grab onto the railing for leverage, forcing liam to stop in his tracks.

“what is it now?” he groans.

“just stop, liam.”

“listen,” he starts, speaking to you almost mockingly, like you’re a naive little girl. “i know what girls want, so you don’t have to be shy. we’re going upstairs right now and —”

“liam, is it?” the rest of the party is in full motion, but here’s belly, giving liam one of the most intense death stares you’ve ever seen. belly, who if you cut open, would bleed sugar. “i’m gonna have to ask you to let go of my friend.”

“whatever,” liam answers, rolling his eyes. “if you don’t mind, we’re kinda in the middle of something.” he tries to move you forward, but you stand your ground.

jeremiah is also glaring at liam from the bottom of the stairs, his golden retriever personality long gone. “back off, man,” he warns.

“just mind your own business,” liam snaps.

“they said leave her alone,” steven asserts, walking over once he sees what’s happening. “and you don’t wanna mess with us, trust me.” he clenches his hand into a fist as if proving a point.

in other situations, you and belly have definitely teased steven for his tendency to act all tough, but right now, you couldn’t be more grateful.

“who the fuck are you? her bodyguards?”

“just let her go,” belly orders.

“i think she can speak for herself. she wants this, but if you’re jealous, you can join, too.”

your stomach churns. liam leans in close to whisper in your ear. “maybe we’ll see if those 5 minutes come in handy when you’re sucking my —”

as soon as liam lets go of your wrist, his hand trailing downward, you shove him away and punch him in the nose before he can finish his sentence. you deliver a final blow to liam’s ego as he’s doubled over:

“what i want is for you to leave us the fuck alone. there are other people in this house who i’d rather hook up with. people who aren’t complete assholes with fancy cars to compensate for their tiny dick.”

the flirtatious smile falls from liam’s face, replaced with the kind of anger only rich entitled assholes have when they don’t get what they want — figures that he only gets the hint when it literally hits him right in the nose. he’s angry enough to deliver a punch right back to your face.

you hear a crack upon impact, and pain radiates from your nose. you fall down the stairs, but belly manages to catch you before you hit the ground. she holds you as jeremiah and steven step in front. you hear them shouting at liam over the music, but their exact words don’t register.

you lick your lips, tasting blood. your ears are ringing, and the room is suddenly all fuzzy.

“i’ve got her.” conrad’s calm and measured voice cuts through the chaos. you feel a strong, familiar arm wrap around your waist. “go find cam — the rest of us have been drinking, but he can drive her home.”

somehow, you find yourself in a bathroom, sitting on the counter as conrad stands between your legs. he carefully examines your injury, but you notice how he avoids making eye contact.

you feel your head spinning all over again. maybe it’s the alcohol, or the adrenaline, or the fact that the two of you haven’t been this close in a while — probably a dangerous mix of all three.

“you here to fix me up, sweetheart?” the question slips past your lips before you could stop it.

conrad looks slightly amused, and he finally meets your gaze. “that’s not the line,” he deadpans. you know (from trying not to but ultimately not being able to pull your attention away from him all night) that he’s had a few drinks as well; it seems like the two of you ignore each other best when you’re sober.

but, still, he remembers. his comment earlier and his smile right now is all the confirmation you need: somewhere in the back of his mind, he replays memories of you. no matter how cold he acts towards you, he still cares.

he continues wiping the blood off your face. “how’s your hand?” he asks.

you flex your fingers, inspect your hand. “it’s been better,” you answer, though your knuckles are slightly aching. “worth it.”

“i guess all those years away made you a badass.”

all those years away. the reminder feels like a stab to the heart, but you wouldn’t let it burst the comfortable bubble you and conrad had somehow stumbled into.

instead, you offer him a lopsided smile.

“oh, connie,” the nickname rolling off your tongue with ease. “i was always a badass.”

“yeah, yeah. but it’s different now. you’re different.” he pauses. you’re worried he’s going to say something else.

but he doesn’t. instead, he asks, jokingly: “did you join a fight club or something?”

you take that as a good sign: like you, he’s trying to preserve the playfulness between you before everything else seeps in and ruins it, before you’re brought back to the present, where you’re both heartbroken and not talking to each other.

“you know the first rule of fight club —”

“don’t talk about fight club,” you finish together.

conrad laughs, even though it’s not that funny. you laugh, too.

a silence falls over you, one that’s not unfamiliar, but not entirely comfortable either. conrad holds the cloth against your nose to make sure the bleeding stopped.

it seemed to be a strange pattern between you two — being there for each other when you bleed.

then — summer, age 12

it was the end of july when you got your first period.

you had made lunch for your siblings and walked them to their day camp, when you suddenly felt an ache in your abdomen. that ache turned into a sharp pain by the time you got home, and you ran to the bathroom to confirm what you’d suspected.

that afternoon, mr. conklin was taking all the kids to mini golf, but you weren’t feeling up for it. you texted belly about what happened and spent the rest of the day curled up in bed.

you didn’t hear him knock over the sound of the movie you were watching, but suddenly you saw conrad standing by your door, holding a bag from the candy shop.

“jesus, connie, you scared me!” you exclaimed, pausing the movie.

he smiled sheepishly and flopped down on the bed next to you. “belly told me you weren’t feeling well. here.” he handed you the bag.

you opened the bag, grateful that conrad picked out your favourite treats. you take one and bite into it. your stomach growled — you hadn’t eaten earlier because you felt nauseous, but now you could eat that entire bag in one go.

“how was mini golf?” you asked, popping another treat into your mouth.

“it was awesome! i finally managed to get past that giant hippo and get a hole-in-one. i got the highest score.”

you frown, wishing you had been there. if anything, to beat conrad’s score.

“don’t worry, we’ll go back another time,” conrad added. “you can beat me then.” sometimes, you swore conrad could read your mind. he then asked if you were feeling better.

“no. i got my period,” you huffed. “it sucks.”

“oh.” conrad adjusted his glasses, a sign that he felt awkward. “i’ve heard about those. they sound pretty brutal.”

“health class?”

“no. my mom, actually.”

health class wasn’t much help for you either, and neither was your mother. you were lucky enough to have susannah and laurel, who had explained everything to you and belly.

“anyway, what are you watching?”

“the hunger games,” you answer. “i just finished the book.”

“cool.”

conrad didn’t move — he actually leaned back against the pillows even more — so you figured he wanted to stay. you moved the laptop so it sat between the two of you and started playing the movie again.

“you know, it doesn’t seem fair that you miss out on having fun just because of your period,” conrad said as katniss finds peeta injured in the arena.

you frown, about to point out that he has no idea how painful cramps can be.

he lifted his hand up to stop you. “not that i can judge what you’re going through. i’m just saying when it’s this bad, instead of being alone, just text me, and i’ll be there.”

when the time came, he watched movies with you in bed. he brought you junk food and pain killers. he even biked to the store when you’d run out of pads.

he was there for you, just like he promised.

now

those moments from past summers now feel warm and sickly sweet, like popsicles melting in the sun — then again, that might just be the remnants of tequila flowing through your veins. you think about what happened earlier, how belly, jeremiah, and steven stepped in to protect you. how conrad is here with you now, taking care of you so tenderly even after you’ve ignored each for so long. it’s like nothing changed. but once you leave this bathroom and the alcohol leaves your system, it wouldn’t be the same. you feared you'd never get that magic back, and that weighed on your chest so much, you felt like you couldn’t breathe.

“why’d you go for liam, anyway?” conrad asks, breaking you away from your thoughts. he removes the cloth from your nose so you can answer, and the bleeding seems to have finally stopped.

“you really wanna know?”

“yeah. liam’s an asshole. and you’re…” conrad places his hands on either side of your thighs, leaning close. “you.”

“i went for liam because….well, honestly, i didn’t care who it was, as long as they made me forget you,” you admit, because what did you have to lose. you probably have a broken nose, you definitely have blood on your shirt, and your time with conrad is running out.

conrad’s eyes darken. his fingers start to play with the hem of your shorts.

“did it work?” his voice is a whisper, but he’s so close that it’s crystal clear.

“no.”

it’s hard to determine who leans in first, but soon enough your lips are on conrad’s. it's not the most elegant kiss — it's messy, urgent, with your noses bumping together, and teeth clacking against each other. he cradles your face in his hands, and you wrap your legs around his waist to bring him closer. you taste beer on his tongue, and maybe a hint of lime, but it’s overwhelmed by the salty, metallic taste of blood stained on your lips. you tangle your hands into his hair, and you swallow his moan as you gently tug. it’s clearer now: you’re not dizzy from the alcohol or adrenaline, but dizzy from him.

when you run out of air, feeling like your lungs could burst, you pull away. conrad’s gaze is heavy on yours as he traces your top lip with his thumb.

“connie,” you whimper, itching to kiss him again.

“you’re still bleeding.”

conrad wipes away your blood with the cuff of his flannel. before either of you can do or say anything more, there’s a knock on the door. jeremiah, letting you know that it’s time to go.

and, just like that, the moment is gone.

a few days later, belly invites you over for a girl’s night. you paint each other’s nails, eat sour candy, and watch rom coms, just like you used to. she updates you on debutante season, the argument she had with taylor, and her blossoming feelings for jeremiah. you let it slip that you and conrad kissed at nicole’s party, though you admit you aren’t sure what it means — as if you hadn’t spent hours and hours thinking about the kiss, about him. belly gives you a knowing smile, but you change the subject before she can comment any further.

you’re halfway through 10 things i hate about you when belly falls asleep. you grab your phone, deciding to finally reach out to conrad, when you get a text from him.

he’s already on the dock when you arrive, looking out onto the water.

“hey,” you greet as you stand next to him. “i was actually about to text you —”

“did you tell belly that we kissed?” he interrupts. you can’t quite read his expression as he waits for you to answer.

“no, i didn’t,” you lie. “but…would it matter if i did?”

“well, i mean, belly’s close to nicole and i don’t want her finding out," conrad explains. his words are deliberate, and you suspect he'd spent some time perfecting what to say to you. so far, you didn't like where this was going. conrad delivers another blow:

"it’s not like it meant anything.”

you feel like you could shatter into a million pieces right then and there.

“it didn’t?” you hate how fragile your voice sounds, compared to conrad’s stoic demeanor.

conrad shrugs. “i mean, we were both drunk and the thing with liam happened, so we just got caught up in the heat of the moment.”

“you’re saying there’s nothing between us, then? nothing other than friendship?”

he turned away before he answered. “no. nothing.”

“then what about last summer?” you demand. you force yourself to keep it together, your tone firmer than before. “i guess that didn’t mean anything, either.”

“y/n…” he pauses, and you know you caught him off guard. “i don’t know what you want me to say. we’re barely even friends anymore. you come back here, after all this time, after so much shit has happened, and expect us all to drop everything to fit you back into our lives. but, you don't. we moved on. i moved on, and i can’t deal with you —"

“got it,” you snap, already turning to walk away. “loud and fucking clear, conrad.”

it’s not like it meant anything. we’re barely even friends anymore.

you replay conrad’s words as you crawl into bed next to belly, holding back tears as to not disturb her sleep.

you decide then that you didn’t love conrad anymore. you couldn’t because it would eat you up inside.

then again, it doesn't seem like hating him would be any easier.

#conrad fisher fluff #conrad fisher x you #conrad fisher #conrad fisher x reader #tsitp #tsitp fanfic #the summer i turned pretty fic #the summer i turned pretty #conrad fisher imagine #conrad fisher angst #saf writes

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munariplans · 6 months

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Hiii thank you for updating on your recent story! I enjoyed it!!💓 could I request Natasha x reader in a situationship & there’s a avengers wedding and they both get invited separately only for reader to see Nat in a different way and suddenly realised they had feelings all this time for her 🥹

the arrangement | natasha romanoff

synopsis: based on the request above!

natasha romanoff x reader

word count: 5.6k words

a/n: i really do have a fondness for writing pining and angst, enjoy hehehehe

masterlist

in a rare instance in the years you’ve known natasha, it was her that awoke first that morning, shaking you awake as yelena pounded on the door to her room.

“hey, hey,” natasha whispered-yelled, prompting you to get up while opening your eyes blearily, “you have to go. yelena’s here.”

yawning, you gave her an “OK” signal as you gathered your surroundings. you had once again fallen asleep in her room after last night. gathering your clothes and fixing your hair then, you spared a look at her mirror first before leaving, and what you saw almost made you want to laugh out loud.

“how the fuck did you manage to cover me in this many hickeys?”

natasha turned to you, halfway through freshening herself up as well. the redness in her cheeks grew prominent as she saw the many purple and red bruises littering all around your neck. cursing, she threw you a turtleneck from her wardrobe and pointed at the window. yelena was asking her why she was taking so long now.

but just before you climbed out, she thought about it, and risked it for a few more seconds, before pulling you in to press a kiss to your lips. “that girl that was hitting you up at the party last night was being annoying. had to show her you weren’t interested.”

you grinned, shaking your head at her ridiculousness.

and right as you shut the window and slipped out, yelena barged in and threw her several wedding dress options onto natasha’s bed, demanding for her sister to decide which one looked best. but natasha hated to admit she was still distracted from the way your ass swayed right as you sultrily sneaked out of her window.

–

later that same afternoon, you were walking with your friend, accompanying him ring-shopping, when the question first came up.

“aren’t you ever interested in marriage? or, at the very least, finding a partner?” he half-joked. everyone knew you had been single for a while now. “we’re not so young anymore, you know.”

in response, you shrugged. “i don’t see a point.”

“in loving someone?”

“in being with someone, at all. the domesticity, the mundaneness, it’s all so…boring, after a while. i don’t see why you, and so many others, would want to be tied down by all of that, forever.”

“...so you don’t see a forever?”

“right now, with just one person, i don’t,” you said, your eyes drifting off to the street across, where a girl in braids of red hair reminded you of a certain someone you had begun sleeping with in the past few months.

–

you called natasha on the way home, asking if she had company for the night, and if not, whether she wanted yours.

she replied that she was frustrated, and that yelena was being a bitch about her wedding planning. natasha had insisted that a band would have been a better musical accompaniment, yelena had wanted to allow tony and clint to get drunk enough to sing for her.

you came to yelena’s rescue, apparently. because right as you arrived right back at natasha’s apartment, where the two women were clearly at each other’s throats and yelena had literally picked up a butter knife to threaten her sister, you caught natasha from lunging at her and wiping the stupid smirk off her face entirely. she thrashed in your arms, but with a few reassuring words and a promise to let yelena have a taste of her own medicine later, she relented.

“can you believe how stupid she is sounding? wanting the drunkards to sing for her?!” natasha pointed out then, to which yelena took offence once more.

“i’m sorry i want my wedding to be fun!” she screamed, “you can’t help it if god made your sister boring!”

“why, you–”

you held natasha firmer by your side, at the feeling of her nearly jumping to strangle her sister. “–natasha, enough. let it go.”

“she was being–”

“–it’s her choice, her wedding. let it go, will you? we can discuss this another time, when you two are less…riled up,” then, you leaned in closer, and whispered, “if you behave now, i’ll let you try fucking me against the glass of that window you like seeing me escape out of so much later.”

her breath hitched, you knew you had struck a deal with natasha. she backed off, and even stopped herself from retaliating at yelena’s middle finger and stuck-out tongue.

but when yelena had left for the day and the two of you were alone, natasha found herself being strapped to the passenger seat of your car, as you drove her to her favourite ice cream parlour nearby.

a pout on her face, natasha asked as you parked, “i thought we were going to have sex after she left.”

you nodded understandingly. “we are, but i think i need to cool you down with ice cream first. i don’t want to get myself injured from your wrath with yelena earlier.”

the truth had been because you thought natasha needed a space to calm down and process her feelings first, and not to bottle it up and shove it away from sex. plus, you thought that the treat would cheer her up a little as well, putting aside how hot you found angry sex was with natasha.

of course, with your little quip, you could only expect natasha elbowing you as hard as she could, as you laughed and opened the door for her to the parlour.

–

“they have a new flavour here,” natasha pointed against the display, “apple pie.”

“you won’t like it.” you thought about natasha’s preferences for ice cream, and while they were boring, they were safe. “they have your usual today.”

but she took it as a challenge, apparently. “i’m going to try it.”

and as the cashier took both your orders, natasha noticed you place an order for her usual flavour. while it was odd that you would deviate from anything even remotely far from cookies and cream, she chose not to speak of it.

you watched as natasha took her seat in front of you, then taking one bite of her apple pie scoop, before her face morphed into one of doubt, then slight discomfort, and finally, disgust. still, she tried to hide it from you, putting on a straight face as you asked her how it tasted.

“fine,” she said, but her disdain said otherwise.

in response, you smirked, offering her a bite of your own scoop. she was persistent in not wanting to at first, but as you offered her again, she took a bite, then another, and another, and oh well by that point you had given her your entire scoop and taken hers away from her.

you tasted the apple pie scoop. it had cinnamon, something natasha clearly disliked. there was no wonder, you thought, smiling to yourself as you watched her finish the last of her usual order of vanilla with chocolate sprinkles.

–

you were at the bachelor’s party of yelena’s fiancé when natasha’s call came in. she had dropped you a string of drunk texts that night, a product of her own consequences from attending yelena’s bachelorette party.

“hello, natty?” you answered, moving away from the noisy atmosphere of the club to a secluded side. you caught the groom giving you a confused look, you gestured that it was natasha on the line, and he gave you a weird smirk.

“hellooo,” she drunkenly slurred. in the background, you could hear yelena asking for more shots. “my lovely, lovely, friend. where–are–you? i want to go home nowww…”

you moved further away from the club, bringing your phone closer to your ear. “i’ll come pick you up. are you sober enough to text me the address?”

just then, the phone was brought to maria’s side, and you could hear her shrieking for natasha to let you enjoy the party, and that there were designated drivers to bring her home if she needed to. natasha yelled back that she wanted you to come pick her up.

you got the address from the groom, as he and the other people in the party boo-ed you for leaving so soon. you still had a line of shots to finish and a karaoke match that you would be missing, but you had already picked up your jacket and began finding your car keys to pick up natasha then.

when you found her, she was slumped over the bar counter, in a conversation with the bartender, who was clearly wanting to serve the other customers to earn his keep. you approached, and natasha immediately went to your side as she hung off of you, smiling from ear to ear. her smile made your own lips turn up in amusement.

“are you the one she’s been talking my head off all night?” the bartender asked, and you chuckled.

“i guess so,” you thanked him for taking care of her, and left the bar after saying a round of goodbyes to the people in yelena’s party as well.

–

you helped natasha to the passenger seat of the car, but right as you reached over her body to help fasten her seatbelt, her hand caught your wrist, forcing you to look up at her.

her eyes met yours, and in a clear split second of momentary sobriety, you saw sincerity in them. she whispered, “you’re so pretty, i think i might be in love with you.”

you couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled in your throat, as your first reaction was to snicker, then look away from her. then, when you heard her groan behind you, the snickers became full-blown chuckles as you laughed in her face at the drunken confession. “oh, i have so much blackmail material against you when you’re drunk.”

natasha hit you frustratedly as you returned to the driver’s seat, but you caught her hand as you continued, “you’re drunk, natasha. you’re saying things you don’t mean.”

you helped her out of the car again as you reached her apartment, her leaning her body on yours as she stumbled finding her way through the building. using the extra set of keys she had given you, you unlocked the door and set her down on her sofa.

guiding her to her bedroom, you felt natasha’s hands then start travelling up and down your body, and while in any normal circumstance you would have indulged her, and perhaps initiated more, you knew she was drunk. you weren’t going to be the asshole who took advantage of their friend, with benefits, when it was unclear even to her what she was doing.

you removed her hands, and let her lie down on the bed. she pouted. “do you not want me?”

she saw you disappear into her bathroom for a minute, before returning with her toiletries. “i do. you know i always do. just not when you’re drunk.”

“but i want youuu,” she slurred, “and i’m so horny nowww.”

you smirked, but still refused. instead, you rested on top of her, slowly removing her false eyelashes, then wiping off her makeup, and finally helping her carefully wash her face. she sighed at the gentle massage and warm water. “you know, anyone else would have said yes. anyone else would have been dying for natasha romanoff, me, to sleep with them like this.”

“but i’m not anyone else, aren’t i?” you quipped, taking off her clothes and rejecting yet another advancement for her to take yours off as well. you went to her dresser to find her pyjamas.

natasha rolled her eyes, turning her body away from you as you dressed her up again in protest. you smiled to yourself at her cuteness, tucking her in and pressing a kiss on her forehead. “tomorrow, when you’re sober and still up for it, call me. i’ll be here right away.”

she watched you place a strip of advil and a glass of water for her hangover tomorrow, before gathering your things again. “...you’re not going to stay? where are you going?”

drunk natasha really was clingy natasha, you thought. “i have another hookup i need to get to. need to make the most of my nights, you know?”

in truth, you didn’t want to overstep any boundaries you and natasha had set up for yourselves when you first got into this…arrangement. she was clear on not wanting any feelings to be involved, and with how things were turning out tonight, you were afraid that if you stayed, there would be a blurring of some lines from her end on her feelings; lines that she would reenforce the morning after even more strictly. and while you didn’t generally have a problem with that, you had felt that you had gotten natasha to lower her walls down enough to enjoy your company beyond your flings; you didn’t want to risk all that just for a night where she could possibly tell you her drunken feelings about you. you treasured your friendship too much for that.

and so you left, leaving natasha slightly stung and hurt with the implication that you had someone else, or a lot of someone elses, waiting for you if she wasn’t sleeping with you, and strangely, it affected her more than she thought it would, even drunk as she was. watching you leave, she thought selfishly about how she hadn’t slept with anyone since she began sleeping with you, so was it only fair that you had the decency not to as well?

but you and her were just friends, she had to remind herself. it was not like she had power to dictate who you were seeing, and who you slept with, anyway. it was not like you two were exclusive, or in a relationship at all, which was precisely what natasha hadn’t wanted at the start. now, she was wondering why she even uttered those words at all.

little did she know, you were doing nothing of the sort. instead, you had gone straight home, put up a romantic comedy on the TV, heated yourself some leftovers, and sighed as you pondered over your own early end to the night.

–

everyone who knew you and natasha, knew however, that whatever relationship you two had, was more than just friends. that the two of you had crossed the line of just friends about twenty late-night hookups and rendezvouses ago, no matter what either of you claimed about the other.

it was clear in the way you cared for natasha more than any other friend you had, it was clear in the way natasha sought out for you more than she even initiated a conversation with anyone else.

which was what made it so incredulous; that you would allow anyone else try to court natasha before you did.

everyone had warned bucky that what you and natasha shared was more than just a surface friendship, and relations ran deeper than what he thought was possible. but still, it didn’t stop him from taking your own words against yourself, and confronting you about it one day.

“you’re just friends, right?” he asked haughtily, interrupting you as you were helping yelena sort out the final touches to her wedding venue arrangement. you dismissed him with a quick grunt and agreement.

but he followed you. “then you wouldn’t mind helping me get to know her, would you? or better, helping her fall for me?”

you paused in that moment, yelena, overhearing the conversation, consequently giving him a weird look as well. surely not, she thought, turning her attention to you, but you seemed to contemplate his request.

and she nearly choked in disbelief, when surprisingly, you agreed to help him out in chasing natasha.

you shared with him that natasha’s birthday was approaching, and when he asked what kind of gifts she would like, you wanted to say something small, heartfelt. but then you realised it was probably only in your case she would like it so. from anyone else, you thought she deserved the world.

“something big, extravagant,” you told bucky, “natasha deserves only the best, you see.”

he happily lapped up any information you gave him about natasha, the person who knew her best.

and when her birthday did arrive, you watched by the sidelines as bucky shyly presented his gift to her, an outlandish, extravagant display of just his infatuation for the woman. everyone had thought it was well-thought out, very well suited to what she liked, and you patted yourself on the back at the comments. it was you, after all, who had accompanied bucky to get her gift.

natasha looked flustered, admittedly, at the surprise of someone knowing what she wanted so well. it wasn’t everyday that she told the people around her what she wanted for her birthday, after all. and to think about it, she had only told you, of her wishlist upon her birthday.

when she found a moment with you alone that night, as the party winded down and everyone began to leave, she was interrupted by bucky hanging around foolishly, almost as if he was waiting for something to happen between them. she kindly gave him a kiss on the cheek, and promised him she would call him the next day. she needed to get to you first.

you were by the bar as you watched their interaction, the giddy look on bucky’s face as he left and gave you a thumbs-up making you chuckle.

then, natasha appeared by your side, asking you what was so funny. you didn’t have the heart to tell her.

“i didn’t forget to get you a gift, by the way,” you told her when she had coaxed you up to her bedroom, “i just…didn’t want the others to see. saved you the embarrassment of the teases and accusations in front of everyone.”

“oh god,” natasha replied, “you’re going to gift me a sex toy, aren’t you? i just know it.”

“you are such an addict,” you snickered, “what do you take me for?!”

then, you pulled out a small box from your jacket, tied in a tiffany blue ribbon with her name written in an accompanying card alongside the box. natasha’s fingers trembled as she received your gift.

to my natasha, my bestest friend.

she didn’t know why her heart dropped a little in disappointment at the note. but she kept up her unwavering smile, and pulled on the ribbon.

it was a silver necklace, with a flower pendant right in front. it was neither tacky, nor extravagant and luxurious, like bucky’s gift had been. and while his gift was definitely something natasha liked, and was surprised by, your gift had been the one that almost sent her to tears.

“because you’re beautiful like the flowers,” you said, a little uncertain as you watched tears well up in her eyes, “natty, are you okay?”

she tried to reel in the tears, but to no avail. worried, you said, “if you don’t like it, i can return it, it’s okay. i can probably get back a half-refund for it, and get you the voucher to spend on something else. oh god, you’re crying because of me, is it that bad…?”

but then, suddenly she was throwing herself onto you, arms wrapped around your neck as she sobbed hysterically. she had never known someone who knew her so well. you wrapped your arms around her body, still confused, when she choked out, “i-it’s perfect. thank you.”

she asked you to help her put it on, and when the clasp was tightened and natasha felt the pendant rest on the base of her collarbones, she held it as if she was holding it close to her heart. it was the best birthday gift she had ever gotten.

“i’m sorry it’s a little small, and kind of lame,” you professed later, as she laid on top of you, spending the last few moments of her birthday together. it was also the rare few times the both of you were fully clothed while laying on that bed. “i know you deserve so much better, but i…i saw the pendant, and it reminded me of you.”

natasha listened to your heartbeat quicken as she reached out for your hand, interlacing her fingers with yours. “i loved it. you don’t have to apologise. thank you, for today as well. steve told me you planned the party from start to finish. called the caterers to make sure they had what i liked, arranged the drinks from the bar, even nearly having a fight over the cake decorations with the bakery. it must’ve been so much trouble.”

your laugh this time was warm, rumbling from your diaphragm. “not at all. not if it’s for you.”

your eyes met hers, and when natasha readjusted her face just so that she could be closer, to give you a perfect opportunity to lean down and kiss her, to give her the perfect end to her birthday night, you stupidly looked away, and told her you couldn’t stay.

as you left, you reminded her to call bucky again, and natasha nearly threw her own phone at you in frustration.

–

natasha had unwillingly agreed to a lunch date with bucky, upon your suggestion that he was a nice guy, and that she was the only one left to go to yelena’s wedding without a date. she made you promise to pick her up right after, and while you feigned that she was so troublesome for asking for such, you were happy to do it for her.

“well, how was it?” you asked. you had been driving for a good fifteen minutes after picking her up, and natasha still had not said one word about him. she had only been talking to you about your day up until then.

she shrugged, almost as if not giving a care for it. “it was okay. he paid for the lunch. we talked about yelena’s wedding.”

“okay enough for a second date?”

she looked away to the window. you thought you said something wrong, when she replied, “what do you think about him?”

“well, i don’t know,” you said, “when he came to me, asking for help to get you to like him, i thought he seemed genuine enough. so…i helped him.”

“wait,” natasha suddenly sat up, shooting you a glare, “you were helping him? to get to me?”

your gaze met hers for a brief moment, before returning to the road. “...yes? is there anything wrong with that?”

she stayed quiet for a moment, but you knew she was seething. you offered to explain yourself, to tell her that you just wanted the best for her, that’s all, and that bucky seemed like a good partner for her, when natasha held up a hand to stop you.

then, she demanded for you to stop the car and let her out.

“what?” you asked, puzzled. “it’s still half an hour to your apartment, natty. and it’s about five degrees out, you’ll freeze to death if you get out.”

“i said, stop the car!” she argued back defiantly, “stop the car or i’m opening the door right now and throwing myself out!”

you knew not to take natasha’s words lightly, as you stopped finally. then, you watched with even more disbelief, as she unbuckled her seatbelt, got out, and slammed the door shut again.

when she began walking her route home, you followed her with your car and pleaded, “come on, natty, are you mad at me?”

she refused to make eye contact or acknowledge you.

“fine, i was wrong. i never should’ve helped him, and i won’t help him anymore. i just…i wanted what was best for you, you know? come on, get back in the car, it’s cold outside, and you still have so far to go if you walk.”

“what’s best for me…” she said under her breath, “...how do you know what’s best for me?”

“natty, i said i’m sorry!” you begged this time, but natasha suddenly took a turn to the right, leading up to a row of shops where the roads didn’t allow for cars in, and you knew it was your sign to leave her alone. she still didn’t acknowledge you when you said you were sorry for the third time.

–

the next time bucky came up in a conversation between you both (you had been very careful not to tread upon it since that day), natasha told you that she had let him down and told him to try again when she was more ready for a relationship.

you were afraid of asking why, in fear that she would ignore you and get upset all over again, but she invited you to do so. so you asked, and she said that she had her eye on someone else the whole time, so it was unwelcomed at the thought of you trying to set her up with bucky.

you had wanted to ask who it was, your curiosity piqued, when you were interrupted by wanda asking you for a dance. it had been at another friend’s wedding, after all.

natasha found herself digging her fingernails into her palms when you took wanda’s hand and danced with her.

–

the woman showed you just how jealous she had been of wanda hours later in your bedroom. with the knowledge that her and bucky were no longer a thing, you no longer had to respect your boundaries with her as a friend, and the both of you returned to sleeping together again. to say that you missed natasha’s touch had been an understatement.

“you look so pretty with my hands around your neck,” natasha whispered harshly. there it was again. the last time she called you so pretty, she was drunk. now, she was sober, and you were still finding it hard to believe her words. perhaps it was just something she said in the heat of the moment.

you moaned as her fingers plunged harder, and deeper, within you, letting your eyes roll to the back of your head as natasha ravaged you for the night. in the morning you would wake in her bed again, and it would be okay, because you had her back, finally. the red, raw trails on your back from her fingers wouldn’t feel so sore, the hickeys around your neck and jaw no longer a nuisance. because you had her back, and it was all that mattered.

–

leading up to yelena’s wedding, the two of you returned to a shared normalcy that was similar to before the bucky incident; something both you and natasha were grateful for.

you would pick her up for lunch at her favourite restaurants most days, and on more than one occasion, you would catch natasha taking pictures of you when the both of you were alone. she thought you looked too good, in the natural sunlight of the restaurant window, and in the scarf that she had bought for you for your birthday.

when you would ask to see the photos later on, you found it hard to disagree that the world did look better in natasha’s eyes.

away from your prying eyes later, natasha would set the photos she took of you as her phone wallpaper.

–

with natasha as the maid of honour and you being one of the grooms (wo)men, natasha was the one who insisted that you at least knew how to dance properly when the slow songs came about. you had whined that you wouldn’t be dancing anyway, since you didn’t have a date, and you weren’t looking to find a date, but the woman was insistent, and you could never really say no to her.

“it’s easy, just follow me, and try not to step on my feet,” she reminded you, fixing the turntable to an elvis record. you watched in adoration at the warm lighting of the room, and how, even in her pyjamas and her hair tied in a messy bun, natasha still managed to look beautiful even in her apartment’s living room.

she took your hands in hers, placing it on her waist, as she laid her head on your shoulder. “breathe. and follow me.”

the music played. it was easy enough keeping up with natasha, following her footsteps and swaying to the music. but what was not easy, was having her breath fanning out against your neck, the smell of wine in her mouth, and the music, oh the music. it was a huge mistake to dance with natasha when elvis’ can’t help falling in love was playing in the background.

the both of you softly, slowly danced, natasha taking comfort in your touch, while the music accompanied all that you were feeling for the night.

shall i stay? would it be, would it be a sin? if i can't help falling in love with you

would it be a sin if you fell for natasha? you could only hold her closer, relishing in the fact that in that brief moment, where the two of you were dancing, no one else mattered, and nothing else was there, except for your two souls, beating as one. once the song was over, it would be back to being just friends for you both, but in that moment, you were infinite, and you were natasha’s.

when she felt you let go first as the song ended, natasha resisted the urge to hold on tighter and ask for a second song.

–

on the morning of the wedding, you woke natasha up first, pressing kisses all over her cheeks and face as she giggled and wrestled you off. then, she tried sneaking her hand past the band of your panties, to which you reluctantly pulled her out of, mentioning how you couldn’t be late to yelena’s wedding, of all events. she groaned and kissed you for a consolation prize.

the both of you got ready together. in the bathroom mirror, when the two of you were brushing your teeth, you made eye contact with natasha and she did with you. she smiled shyly, and you realised you didn’t mind spending the rest of your mornings brushing your teeth beside her for a lifetime.

she sat on your lap as she did your makeup, and you did the same doing hers. the both of you must have had a silent agreement to not look into the other’s eyes for too long in those moments, because you knew natasha wanted to kiss you just as much as you wanted to kiss her when she got too close.

and when the both of you arrived and separated into your respective sides of the venue, you wished natasha the best of luck with a kiss to her cheek. she hugged you back in reassurance, telling you would do well in the slowdance later.

when the guests were seated and ready, and natasha and you standing in the opposite sides of the bride and groom, you caught her eye again, watching yelena walk in. she looked absolutely radiating, and you knew she was thanking natasha secretly for convincing her that a band was a better musical accompaniment than whatever she had planned for herself.

you look beautiful, you mouthed to natasha. she hid her blush in the bridesmaid beside her, as she mouthed the same back to you.

but when elvis’ song came on again, as yelena walked down the aisle, your eyes were still transfixed on each other. it didn’t matter, because everyone else’s eyes were on the bride then. only you and natasha had each other.

and suddenly, you realised that forever with someone, didn’t seem so bad at all. not if it’s with her. not if it’s natasha.

the domesticity, the mundaneness, it wasn’t all so boring if it was with her. you realised you would relive the thousands of days of doing nothing, if it was spent by her side.

you realised you would do anything for her, even go out to get a ring for her right then, propose and then marry her in a chapel, if that was what she wanted. if it meant forever with her.

you realised that maybe you loved her, more than just friends. and loving her meant realising that you didn’t have to make a wish ever again because you already had everything you could ever want with her.

–

you wanted to ask for her hand when it was time to slow dance. you wanted to ask her to be yours. you wanted to ask her if it hurt to breathe while you loved her as much as she loved you.

but when you found her, and went to her side to ask her, you were interrupted by bucky once again, who patted you on the back and diverted his attention to natasha.

he asked her to dance first. and the smile on your face fell, natasha noticed. she halted him, turning to you to ask what was wrong, but then you shook your head, telling her you were fine. she asked again, but you insisted that she dance with him. you would tell her later.

you didn’t know if you were too late. you didn’t know if there were good reasons natasha had established boundaries between the two of you, and whether breaking them meant losing her forever. what were you thinking, that just because you caught feelings, meant she would catch them too?

you wouldn’t risk what you have with her just because of your feelings. you treasured natasha too much for that.

and so when she slow danced with the man on the dance floor and tried catching your eye to dance with her instead, you only gave her a small smile and left the ballroom first.

because you weren’t hers and she wasn’t yours. that had been the arrangement from the start.

#natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff #black widow #marvel cinematic universe

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kamesama · 5 months

Text

sukuna and yūji as siblings ( inspired by this post by @nessieartss )

they are nearly spitting images of one another, but they get gravely offended if someone gets their names mixed up. calling yūji by sukuna's name is always followed by a scowl and his brows wrinkling his skin. sukuna's reaction is the same, making them even more similar. these offences lowered in number after sukuna got his face tattoos, however, they still happen every now and then.

on that note, although they behave differently and have nearly opposite worldviews, there are a couple of gestures that seem to be a shared muscle memory; the way they twist their necks and look at some wandering source of stupidity with the same unimpressed gaze being one of them. of course, they do so in a sync. the way they run their hand through their hair and scratch their head a little when confused. the way they fix their shirt and turn to the side in front of a mirror to judge its fit.

yūji is most definitely subjected to sukuna's insults, but he takes them pretty well; he puts up a fight of his own which sukuna appreciates ( invisibly ). he is happy to know his little brother is resilient. however, there are days where yūji simply cannot stomach the proportions of sukuna's asshole-ry. why are you such a prick?

fights — both verbal and non-verbal, physical and non-physical — are nearly a religious everyday routine. some days it's just sukuna walking by and ruffling yūji's hair as he leaves home, and some days it's a ferocious battle ending with yūji in a headlock because he responded to sukuna's random insult with an exasperated and serious, what the fuck is your problem, dude?

sukuna always ends up having an upper hand.

no one gets to bully sukuna's younger brother — other than him. sure, now when they are older, yūji can handle his own ordeals, but as children, one glare from sukuna was enough to provide salvation for his little brother. sukuna also had a way with their parents to get them out of trouble. how he managed to talk things out with them is beyond yūji even today, but sukuna always saved his ass, walking into crying yūji's room with a confident grin on his face to tell him problem's been solved and he can start kissing his feet.

sukuna found a scrunchie laying around at some point and gave yūji the worst time ever because he teased him so much.

yūji — god bless his wonderful soul — is undoubtedly the more respectful one of the two, unsurprisingly so. that pudding in the fridge that he knows belongs to sukuna? he doesn't touch it. he has no interest in it whatsoever. sukuna, on the other hand, will devour anything and everything he gets his hands on with no regard for ownership. i licked it so it's mine kind of logic. yūji starts hiding his snacks. sukuna nonchalantly finds them.

sukuna busts into yūji's room with nearly no announcement and regard. yūji, on the other hand, always knocks. at some point in the early teenagehood, sukuna's room was a yūji-free zone. no brats allowed. as such, yūji has lesser knowledge of sukuna's room than sukuna has of yūji's.

blackmail. threats. vile words and promises. "brat, give that back or you will never see your vanity fair jennifer lawrence poster again." "*gasp* you wouldn't." "oh, i will."

sukuna finds ways to get certain posters, photos, stickers, merch and absolutely whatever else yūji is dying to have, only to bully the poor boy. "can i see?" "no." "you don't even like that show!" however, these things always find their way onto yūji's desk in the end, or wind up under his bed. when they do, yūji strolls over to sukuna's room with the brightest sun-kissed smile on his precious mouth and expresses his gratitude with the utmost of sincerity and child-like joy. sukuna responds with aloof indifference and a middle finger. it's the tough love.

the times they do get along is when they watch movies together. it's never explicitly admitted, but it has to be their favourite way to spend time in each other's presence. they will binge a show, discuss characters, eat an unhealthy amount of snacks along the way, completely unfazed while someone's guts get clawed out and slurped on screen. horror movies are their forte but yūji successfully got sukuna hooked onto some slice-of-life romance drama here and there. if they are not watching something on some brimming-with-viruses-and-completely-illegal website at home, then they definitely go to the cinema.

the 3 am conversations about life happen. they chew on leftovers of a cold pizza, home alone, under the kitchen light, slowly and calmly commenting on the unyielding passage of time, importance of ambition and drive, and the paradox of life's meaningful meaninglessness. they do so for nine minutes before falling into silence and commenting how stupid that cliff hanger was and how a manga chapter will be delayed again.

yūji's music taste is a spectrum far wider than sukuna's, and although he prefers pop, there are some questionable and edgy songs that seem to crawl their way into his ear because sukuna keeps listening to them on high volume while showering.

surprisingly, yūji is messier than sukuna. both are relatively clean in a way that neither of their rooms resemble a pigsty, but yūji has stray hoodies on his chair or textbooks spread and splattered over his desk ( whether he actually reads them is a separate topic ). sukuna keeps his things relatively neat and leans more towards minimalism in certain aspects.

their styles most definitely clash, but not too drastically; sukuna always seems to wear something of a darker hue to the point yūji strongly questions if he owns something that isn't red, black, white or some shade of grey. on another hand, yūji adores his vivid colours; ugly mustard yellows and pastel pinks and forest greens. sukuna likes his accessories a little edgy but tasteful; yūji finds those to be a hassle because he moves around so much. however, they both seem to show affinity towards comfortable and casual wear.

because of their contrast in terms of dressing, they rarely steal borrow one another's clothes. however, there is a very cool-looking dark blue denim jacket of sukuna's that yūji's got heart eyes for, and every now and then he wears it without having asked for permission. yūji's cheeks are stuffed with his order of burger and french fries when he gets a call from sukuna. he picks up, and all that greets him is a frigid and irritated, brat, did you steal my jacket again? yūji swallows and hangs up.

yūji's socks keep disappearing. it takes him a while to realise it's because sukuna is stealing them, solely because they are made of cotton and comfy.

yūji likes sukuna's phone cases; most of them are dark-ish, sure, but they have this visual effect of elegance that makes the phone look nice. no, sukuna does not give them to his brother. the chambers of his heart are not that vast.

sukuna is more familiar with yūji's friend group than yūji is with sukuna's. he gets along with megumi, enough to acknowledge him as a good friend of his little brother. originally, he teased yūji about nobara, but once he met her, he stopped with a claim that there is zero chemistry between the two and that they're just no fun ( nobara gave him a death glare ). he calls them brats, collectively. on another hand, yūji is not well-versed enough to have a stable opinion of uraume, who seems to be sukuna's partner in crime, but he is very familiar with how irritating his brother finds yorozu who just cannot seem to stop annoying him.

thank you for reading!

— kamesama.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk yuuji #jjk sukuna #itadori yuuji #ryomen sukuna #sukuna #jjk headcanons #headcanons #yuuki headcanons #sukuna headcanons #kamesama

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yoon-kooks · 1 year

Text

on mute | jjk

🦈pairing: fuckboy!gamer!jjk x reader

🦈genre: friends to lovers, office!au, coworker!au, smut, fluff

🦈summary: You always assumed your handsome coworker was down to fuck anyone in the office except for you. He always assumed you weren’t interested in a guy like him. And both of you were content with never admitting your feelings… until he unknowingly confides in you in the realms of a certain tactical FPS game.

🦈word count: 10.7k

🦈warnings: mutual pining, shooter game references, soft fuckboy vibes, fingering, doggy style, protected sex bc bro aint taking no chances🤠

a/n: i wasnt planning on including smut so thats a bonus✨

You press a hand to your mouth to suppress a yawn as the department meeting finally comes to an end. Your boss had gone over the schedule for next quarter, alluded to a few new projects, and gave a few shoutouts to people on your team who apparently “went the extra mile” this week. You couldn’t care less about being acknowledged for your work, but it does kind of irk you that Jeon Jungkook got a shoutout when you’ve never seen him do extra work in the office. All he’s done this week is take your pretty lady boss out to lunch. If that’s considered extra work, you suppose Jungkook works the hardest. After all, he’s the type to make time for anyone he wants to sleep with aka everyone in the office except for you.

As you scoot your chair out, you back into something very solid. Surely no one is dumb enough to stand right behind your chair when they know how eager everyone is to get out of here for the weekend. But when you turn around, you know exactly who it is without even seeing his face—Employee of the Week Jeon Jungkook.

You stare at the back of his shoulders in that mustard button-down, and it occurs to you that it was his nice ass that you’d bumped into. He didn’t even stumble forward from the impact or at least step aside so you can leave like everyone else. You just want to get home, soak in a nice hot bubble bath, and play a few games with your calico all curled up in your lap—that’s the ideal Friday night that Jeon Jungkook is keeping you from.

“Excuse me, kind sir,” you say as your nude acrylics tap the armrest.

The boy turns around with fake astonishment. And a handsome smile. “Oh, Y/N, I didn’t know you were still here.”

“I mean, yeah, I’d be gone too if someone wasn’t blocking my way out.” In the year that you’ve been on the same team as Jungkook, the two of you somehow developed this sarcastic and aggressive way of speaking without actually being mad at each other. Some call it banter, but you dislike the possible romantic implications of that.

“What’s the rush? Got plans tonight?” He still doesn’t move out of the way. You didn’t expect him pinning you against a table in the office to be so underwhelming. You imagine a fuck boy like him could try a little harder, be a little rougher. Not that you’ve ever fantasized about it.

“Yeah, I just bought some cute new lingerie for when I hop into bed with Christina Lauren and my cat.” You leave out the gaming part of your Friday night plans. If he knew you played the same game as him, he’d probably use it against you somehow.

“Who’s Christina Lauren?” he asks. You love the thought of him imagining you in lingerie with some mystery woman. Or maybe that’d just encourage a threesome.

“My cat’s favorite romance writer?” You say it like it should be common sense to know that your cat purrs himself to sleep when you read to him.

“And you’re going to waste your cute new lingerie on reading a Lauren Christina bedtime story to your cat?”

“It’s Christina Lauren, not Lauren Christina.”

“Christina Lauren doesn’t care about your lingerie.” It amuses you how he keeps bringing up the lingerie. You wonder what he’d think if he saw you in that skimpy mesh fabric. It’d probably come as a shock to him considering he’s only ever seen you in your preppy office attire. He has no idea what you’re capable of beneath those cream blouses and mocha mini skirts.

If only he knew.

“Tldr, yes I have very urgent plans tonight.” That reminds you, you need to check your in-game shop to see if any pretty skins are on sale this time around. You’ve been eyeing the one with the cute whale shark design.

“What a coincidence, Lauren Christina is my favorite writer too. I really liked that one book she wrote.” You don’t hate that he’s prolonging the conversation, but if he says “Lauren Christina” one more time, you’re gonna report him to HR.

“Same,” you chuckle. “Now please move so I can leave.”

He finally steps aside. Before he can pull a fast one and trap you again, you throw your tiny bag over your shoulder and scurry for the exit. You stop just outside the conference room and spin around. The boy’s eyes quickly shift up from your skirt.

“Coming or not?” you ask with a head tilt. If there’s one good thing about having a local fuck boy in the office, it’s that you always have someone who’ll walk you to your car when it’s dark out. That’s one of the things you know he does just for you.

On the elevator ride down, it’s just you and him because everyone else has already vacated the building. You sneak a peek at your handsome colleague. It’s a shame that he spends more time in your coworkers’ beds than in actual relationships. If not for that, you’d—

“You should recommend a book for me,” he says, catching you mindlessly staring at him. Oops.

“You don’t look like a reader.” You doubt he’d ever pick up a book over girls.

“I’ll read a book if you say it’s good.” Now he’s just sweet talking you, and you’re not going to fall for it. Except, you would love someone to gush to about your favorite books.

“Dating You/Hating You.” The book title just sort of slips out of your mouth. Though you can’t exactly vouch for how good it is since it’s the one you’re currently reading.

“Give me your best elevator pitch for it.” Haha, he thinks he’s so funny. (You laugh anyway.)

Persuasion is your thing, but you can’t give a proper elevator pitch for a book you haven’t actually finished yet. Moreover, you don’t know what kinds of genres he’d be into or if this book would be a good fit for him. You don’t even know any of his interests outside of sex and video games.

When you really think about it, there’s not much you know about Jeon Jungkook. He’s a mystery, but a charming one.

“It’ll give us something to talk about,” you say softly as the loud ding interrupts. “That’s my elevator pitch to you.”

“Not bad,” he nods as you both exit the elevator. That was way easier than expected. “Is it by your cat’s favorite romance author?”

“It is,” you smile. It’s hard not to smile when you’re with him. “I can lend you my copy next week after I fin—”

“Jungkook!” The new recruiting coordinator blocks your way out of the building with eager eyes and a smile brighter than your own. “Still down for drinks later at that place we talked about?”

You try not to roll your eyes as you step around yet another coworker who ignores you standing right next to the boy they want to ask out. You and Jungkook aren’t a thing, but it does hurt to know that not a single person thinks of you as worthy competition. He’s probably made it very clear to everyone in the office that you and him are just friends and that your nightly walks to the parking lot are for safety purposes only.

Thankfully, you get out of the building before you can hear Jungkook accept the invitation into someone else’s bed. The last thing you want is to be jealous of the people he’d rather be spending time with. You and your silly little book recommendations mean nothing to him.

Nothing at all.

“Sorry about that.” He catches up to you a minute later in the dimly lit parking lot.

You shake your head. “It’s alright. That’s what happens when you’re the popular guy.” And you mean it, too. You’re not the type to fault people for being who they are, nor would you ever ask them to change for you. Besides, there’s really nothing between you and him. There’s nothing he should feel sorry for.

“Hey, why do you always park in the furthest corner of the parking lot?” he teases, probably as a way to change the subject. You see his car parked just a few spots down from you, so he doesn’t really have a right to criticize your decisions. Looks like your habit has rubbed off on him. “It’d be safer if you parked closer to the building.”

You shrug even though the parking placement and slightly longer walks are intentional. He doesn’t need to know it’s your subtle way of prolonging the time you spend with him. You always look forward to those few extra minutes where he’s all yours.

“It doesn’t feel dangerous here at all.” Not when you’re with him. You unlock your car and hop into the driver’s seat.

“Yeah, totally not dangerous.” Jungkook holds your door as he scans the dark and empty lot for anything suspicious. He listens as a few sirens screech in the distance and does a double-take at the lone soda can rolling around in the wind. When the coast is clear, he turns back to you. “I look forward to reading the Lauren Christina book when your cat’s done with it.”

He waits for your seatbelt to click before closing the door. You roll the window down and glare. “It’s Christina Lauren! And have fun on your date.”

With a wave of your manicure, you’re off to your “urgent” Friday night plans.

When you return home, you get what you want. You strip off your work clothes and soak in a lavender bubble bath for a good 30 minutes before admiring the new lingerie Jungkook wouldn’t stop mentioning earlier.

It’s tempting to try it on now, but you wish someone else could see it on you. Jungkook is right. Christina Lauren doesn’t care about your lingerie. If the boy were here to see it for himself, you want to know what he’d think, what he’d say, and what he’d do to your body. It’d probably be incredible—for one night—but that’d be the end of it. That’s how all of his flings go, and a hypothetical one with you would be no different. With a sigh, you set the lingerie aside, throw on an oversized sweatshirt that just barely covers your ass, and load into your game.

The first thing you do is check the shop for the cute gun skin with the whale shark design. The RNG gods give you a couple of good knives, an awful pistol, a subpar rifle, and no shark. It’s fine, you tell yourself. You didn’t want to spend real money on pretty pixels anyway.

As soon as your first match starts, your four teammates are quick to use their mics. Apparently, they all know each other. Can’t relate.

“So… How’d the date go?” asks the healer. The two duelists place their bets on whether the date went incredibly well or horribly wrong. You silently cast your vote for horribly wrong since you lean toward pessimism.

“I didn’t end up going,” says the initiator. He sounds a lot like a certain Jeon Jungkook, but you shouldn’t assume. As far as you know, he doesn’t have a reason to cancel the date with that recruiting coordinator. In fact, he should be having drunk sex with her right about now. Not that it’s any of your business to know what your handsome coworker does after hours. None of that involves you.

“Is it because of You-know-who?” asks the duelist who voted with you. You-know-who? Like a jealous ex-lover? Sounds like drama to you.

“Yep…” Nah, it can’t be the Jeon Jungkook you know. This guy’s voice is giving you more lovesick puppy than confident fuck boy. He dies from a grenade and goes silent for the next few rounds while his buddies keep providing intel to the team. You pick up the whale shark gun over his dead body.

“Hey, CL,” the healer calls out your username. “Do you have a mic?”

Yes, you do have a mic. No, you’re not going to use it. These guys seem harmless so far, but it’s not always fun when people realize you’re the only female on the team. Men in this game try to hit on you just like the ones you pass in the short distance from the office to your car. And they’ll only stop pestering you if you’re walking next to a guy like Jungkook, which you clearly don’t have in this game with your empty friend list. So you’d rather stay on mute for now.

“my mic is broken,” you type, “cat knocked it over.”

“Ah, that’s okay.” He heals you up and saves you from an otherwise fatal headshot. “We were just wondering if you could help our buddy out.”

You? You’re not sure how you’re supposed to be of any help to a lovesick puppy when you haven’t had much luck in the love department either. But you are a curious kitten when it comes to other people’s love lives.

“maybe… can i get more context?”

Apparently, this lovesick puppy (or “Jklmnop” according to his username) has a little more in common with Jungkook than you’d originally thought. Turns out both of them are the designated fuck boys at their workplaces. Except this one has a massive crush on his “super hot” colleague. Jeon Jungkook would never.

The issue is that Jklmnop caught feelings for the one person who doesn’t seem interested in him. Worse, it feels like he’s being friendzoned. And he’s been going on dates with other people in an attempt to squash those unrequited feelings, but it’s just not doing the trick.

“i know a fuck boy too.” You are by no means an expert in the fuck boy archetype, but perhaps your time spent with Jungkook has prepared you for this opportunity to help a friend in need. And you do have some advice. “im not saying fucking all your coworkers is a bad thing but if you really want this girl you need to go all in on her and show her that you’re willing to commit to something more serious.”

Because if you knew this to be true about your own local fuck boy, you’d give him a chance, too. But as far as you know, Jungkook has never shown any romantic interest in you (or anyone else for that matter). He’s just a platonic buddy to you and a fuck buddy to everyone else.

“and it’s very possible she doesnt even realize youre interested in her,” you type, “this is a dumb question but have you tried asking her out yet?”

Your dumb question gets a few laughs from the boys. You feel like an IT person asking their client if they’ve tried turning their computer off and on again.

“Oh, our guy here doesn’t ask people out. He’s the one getting asked out all the time,” Duelist #1 explains.

“It’s been a year and You-know-who hasn’t made a move on him, so that must mean she doesn’t like him,” Duelist #2 adds in a sarcastic tone. You imagine him rolling his eyes on the other side of his screen.

“well @Jklmnop if you dont normally ask ppl out, itll hold more weight when you do.” Your fingers pause for a second. Maybe you’re just soft, but it’d mean a lot to you if you were asked out by the Jeon Jungkook. You’re sure this fuck boy could pull it off too. “you should ask her out. maybe shes waiting for you to make the move.”

You don’t get an immediate response, but he trades his pretty shark gun for your plain one. He must have seen you steal the one over his dead body a few rounds ago. What a thoughtful guy.

Then a friend request pops up. Fine. Jklmnop can be the one username on your otherwise empty friend list.

“I’ll ask her if the opportunity arises,” Jklmnop says after clutching a 1v4. “Thanks bro.”

On Monday, you’re a lot sleepier than you should be at the beginning of the work week because you practically spent the entire weekend gaming with your new fuck boy friend and finishing the book you recommended to your office fuck boy friend.

Your dark circles must be pretty bad because Jungkook feels the need to stop by your desk and say, “Up all night reading Lauren Christina?” He taps the book on your mousepad, so he can clearly see that it’s Christina Lauren and not Lauren Christina. He’s just teasing you at this point.

“It’s Christina Lauren, you shithead. And yes, I finished it, so you can read it now,” you say, handing the book to the boy. He holds it with a soft grip as if to avoid creasing the pages. If library books were treated with the same care, they wouldn’t feel so crusty all the time. You can respect guys with gentle hands. “I expect a full book report by Friday.”

“At least give me the weekend,” he frowns. It’s the most attractive frown you’ve ever seen.

“Sure, if that’s how you want to spend your weekend,” you yawn. Wouldn’t he rather be doing anything else on his days off than read your book?

“That’s how you spent your weekend, Sleepyhead.” He makes a good point. His chuckle is quite cute too.

As he flips through the book, you see something shimmery wedged between the pages toward the end of the story. You told yourself a million times to take your silly little bookmark out before lending him the book, but of course you forgot. Maybe he won’t notice.

Unfortunately for you, Jungkook pulls the metallic blue bookmark out to examine it. His lips curve upward when he sees it’s shaped like a whale shark. Oh great. He’s definitely gonna tease you about it. You knew you should’ve gone with one of the more sophisticated leather bookmarks.

“You really like these guys, huh.” He holds it up by the chain to let some light shine through the tiny holes mimicking the shark’s gorgeous spotty pattern. Not the reaction you were expecting, but you’ll take it.

“What makes you say that?” You don’t ever recall confiding in him about your whale shark obsession. Last time you checked, all of your nerdy and kiddish quirks were kept far away from your office. It’s just not on-brand for the professional image you’ve established here.

“Didn’t you have a cute whale shark phone case when you first started working here? Before you switched it to that cream-colored one?” He wrinkles his face, deep in thought as he tucks the bookmark back where he found it. He’s right, though. You just assumed no one had ever noticed it. As soon as you got your new work phone, you switched to something more neutral to fit your minimalist aesthetic.

“Oh, right.” You’d forgotten about the case just like you forgot about the bookmark. But Jungkook somehow notices and remembers those kinds of details about you. It’s almost endearing in a way.

You shouldn’t let yourself think like that, though. Those are dangerous thoughts.

“By the way, how was your date?” As much as you hate to admit it, you’re curious about his date with the recruiting coordinator. Besides, if he says it went well, you’ll have yet another reason to stop holding onto the tiny feelings you have for him.

“I didn’t go.”

“Oh,” you press a finger to your parted lips. That’s unheard of for Jeon Jungkook. “Did her cat die or something?”

“Why does someone’s cat need to die for the date to be canceled?”

“There must’ve been a pretty big emergency for you to forgo a date, no?”

“Is that what you really think of me, Y/N?” He cocks his head to the side because he’s a fuck boy and that’s what fuck boys do.

“That’s not what I think of you.” Another yawn slips from your mouth. “It’s just facts. You have a 99% attendance rate when it comes to dates, don’t you?”

He nods because he can’t argue with the credible gossip that goes on in your office.

“Anyway, I’m going to run to that coffee shop you won’t shut up about,” he says as he glances at the time on his phone and then at the dark abyss under your eyes. “Need anything?”

“Hmm…” You pretend to think deeply about your order. Usually when other people go on coffee runs, you request something easy to remember like an oat latte. But for Jeon Jungkook, the boy who keeps fucking up Christina Lauren’s name, you won’t go so easy. “How about an iced birthday cake latte with oat milk, an extra shot of espresso, two pumps of toffee syrup, and the crème brûlée topping? Please.”

“So… birthday cake frappuccino with oat milk?” He snickers in your sleepy face before walking off. “You’re gonna have to come with if you want all that extra stuff.”

It’s a latte, not a frappuccino. But you suppose it doesn’t matter if he knows the difference because you’re scurrying to catch up with him as he heads for the elevator.

The “coffee shop you won’t shut up about” has been open for a few months now, and you’ve stopped by at least two times a week since the grand opening for your usual dose of caffeine. Should you be proud or embarrassed that the baristas all know your name and order? How about when they raise their eyebrows at the sight of you walking in with your handsome coworker?

“She’ll have a birthday cake frapp—”

“Don’t listen to him. I’ll get a birthday cake latte, please,” you tell the barista at the register. Jungkook chuckles as you give his arm a light shove. “With oat milk and crème brûlée today.”

“Sure thing, Y/N,” she smiles at you and then turns to the boy next to you. “Anything for you?”

“Just plain coffee, thanks,” he says after a quick glance at the menu. You hate that he orders plain coffee when the menu has all these fun options like pink donut lattes or cookies n cream cappuccinos. If he wanted black coffee, he could’ve saved time and money by brewing some in the office. He didn’t have to go all the way to the coffee shop you wouldn’t shut up about. But he did. And he invited you along for the ride.

As the two of you wait for your drinks, you pick the booth in the corner next to the window. You’ve always had this vision of sitting inside a cozy cafe to work from your laptop or read a book. It just hasn’t happened yet because you get scared off when all the other customers bring their friends or lovers to share that experience with. Your laptop and books can’t compare to that.

You’ve always been envious. Until today.

“That doesn’t look nearly as complex as it sounded,” Jungkook says when he sees your latte with the fancy crème brûlée on it. He slides his boring coffee across the table to you. “I’ll let you try mine if you let me try yours.”

Only a weirdo would accept a pathetic offer like that.

“Deal.” You take a sip of your sugary treat before passing it off to the boy. He winces from how sweet yours is compared to the bitterness of his black coffee. You make a face for the opposite reason.

“I’m surprised you agreed to it,” he hums with a tiny bit of crème brûlée around his mouth. You want to kiss it off. He must notice you eyeing his lips because he wipes it off with his thumb a second later.

“I wanted you to try my special drink,” you say. It’s for the same reason you lent him your book—to let him know another tiny piece of you without explicitly saying it.

“I’ll have to get it myself next time we come.” He pulls up the notes app on his phone and types as he speaks. You wonder if “next time” and “we” imply that this coffee outing is going to become another routine thing between you and him, just like your walks to the parking lot. Hopefully it does. No, it definitely will. Because you’ll be the one to ask him next time. “What’s it called again? Birthday cake frappuccino… with crème brûlée?”

“Exactly,” you lie. Who knows. His mistake might taste even better. You’ll have to find a way to sneak a taste when he isn’t looking. It’s something sweet to look forward to.

As you sip your latte, the barista who took your order catches your eye from across the store, points at Jungkook, and mouths something to you. You don’t quite catch it, so she repeats it again just as your coworker turns to see what you’re staring at.

“Boyfriend?” she mouths, clear as day, before spinning around to use the espresso machine.

When the boy turns back to you, he has such a goofy grin on his face. He points to himself and repeats, “Boyfriend?”

“Stop,” you laugh at his antics but totally dodge the question. “Anyway… may I ask why you didn’t go on that date with the recruiting coordinator?”

His eyes are wide. Probably because it’s not like you to pry. But you just want to make sense of why he’s sitting here with you, acting all sweet and boyfriend-like, after bailing on someone else a few days ago. He’s not his usual self either.

“It was faster to reject her,” he shrugs. You didn’t realize he was in such a hurry on Friday. It certainly didn’t seem like it with how he’d blocked your way out of the conference room.

“What were you in such a hurry for?”

“Isn’t it our unspoken thing to walk to the parking lot together?” He says it like you’re silly. Like the fate of the world depends on him being able to fulfill his duty of walking you to your car each and every day. Like he’d forgo hours of good sex for a five-minute walk with you.

“It’s not unspoken if we talk about it,” you say softly. You’ve always adored the short walks with Jungkook, but maybe you weren’t the only one who felt that way. What kind of guy rejects a date just so he can keep up this year-old tradition between you and him? No guy has ever done anything close to that for you. “But yeah, it is our thing.”

The boy nods with a gentle smile as he sips his coffee. For just a split second, he gives you Jklmnop vibes. You don’t know how else to explain it. He’s a fuck boy, but there’s something so delicate about him that you want to touch without breaking.

You wonder if he’d ever let you in.

On the way out, your favorite friendly barista waves you over to the counter with a huge grin. As much as you love the girl, you’re scared of what might come out of her mouth next. She leans in as if to whisper but ends up shouting over the grinder in the background.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about him.” Her eyes flick to somewhere beyond your shoulders. “He’s such a hottie, by the way. Y’all are kinda cute together.”

A snort comes from right behind you. “Thank you,” says the hottie. Your hottie, apparently. It would’ve been perfectly fine for him to clarify that the two of you aren’t actually together, but you suppose his ego was too busy soaking in the compliment from the pretty barista.

“Really?” You raise an eyebrow at Jungkook as soon as you’re both out the door.

“What?” What’s with that playful smile of his?

“You didn’t deny what she said.”

“A compliment’s a compliment, Y/N.”

“I didn’t mean the part about you being a hottie.” You shudder at that last word. Yes, Jungkook is the hottest guy you’ve ever seen, but he doesn’t need to hear that from your mouth. “I meant the part about you being my boyfriend.”

“You didn’t deny it earlier, either,” he shrugs. True. “Besides, isn’t that also a compliment?”

Now that he’s mentioned it, it does feel pretty nice to be seen as a couple with someone as attractive as Jungkook—to give the illusion that it’s you who’s got him wrapped around your finger, you who he chose above everyone else, and you who gets to fall asleep in his arms every night. And it feels especially good considering how often other people dismiss you as someone not good enough for him. In fact, this is the first time anyone has ever acknowledged that the two of you go well together.

“Hey man, mind if I steal that fine little lady for a sec?” a sleazy voice calls out in your direction. You don’t bother turning your head to acknowledge the presence of yet another ignorant hooligan on the street, but you do step a little closer to Jungkook. You don’t know what pisses you off more: the fact that this stranger is another nonbeliever that you could be dating a guy like Jungkook or the fact that he asked for another male’s permission to talk to you instead of asking you directly. Most catcallers keep their mouths shut when you’re walking with your handsome coworker, but this one clearly can’t take a hint.

A warm hand pulls you in at the waist. It’s the same soft grip Jungkook held your book with. And you kind of never want him to let go. Because when he holds you close like that, all the shitty people become irrelevant. That doesn’t, however, stop you from getting a kick out of the death stare he gives the catcaller who finally backs off.

“You really showed him,” you tease. His face loosens up after you let out a tiny snicker. Still, he studies your every expression to make sure you’re alright.

“Does that happen to you wherever you go?” he asks as he moves his arm up from your waist to your shoulder, something slightly more appropriate for two friendly colleagues. Suddenly your waist feels cold.

“Usually when I’m out by myself.” Whether it’s the supermarket, the park, the office, you’ve felt objectified pretty much everywhere. Even online. The sad thing about it is that you know you’re not the only one. ”But I’m used to it at this point.”

“Well, men are kind of shitty,” he huffs, looking rather frustrated on your behalf. You’ve never seen him so irritated. For the most part, he knows how to keep a calm composure, even during busy season. It’s oddly satisfying that an inconvenience for you is what brought that emotion out of him.

“I used to think that,” you admit as the two of you enter the office building. “But all it takes is one good guy to outweigh the shitty ones.”

For you, Jungkook has always been that one good guy.

“True. I suppose that hottie boyfriend of yours isn’t that bad, huh.” He gives you a soft shoulder squeeze in the elevator before dropping his arm back to his side. It’s a subtle taste of what he could be doing to other places on your body if he were actually your boyfriend. He’d handle you with so much care.

“You won’t let that go, will you?” you pout, pointing your thumb back in the general direction of the coffee shop. “Those baristas really think we’re dating now, you know.”

He pinches your pouty cheek and leaves you at your desk with a not-so-innocent remark.

“I wonder why they think that about us.”

The second half of your day feels painfully long. It’s kind of hard to focus on designing wholesome character models when you’ve got Jeon Jungkook stuck in your head. At this rate, your cute little characters are going to turn into bad boys who steal your books and lattes along with your heart. You can’t help it when he’s been extra sweet to you lately. Sweeter than a birthday cake frappuccino could ever be. And just like your favorite sugary beverages, there’s something so addicting about his company.

As you’re finishing up some designs, you spot the boy chatting with his buddies from the other departments. It’s unfair that an entire friend group can be so goodlooking. And it’s even more unfair that Jungkook is still the one you can’t take your eyes off of in the handsome bunch. Great, now you’re even more distracted.

“Hey, I saw you were online again last night,” says the guy from accounting. He has long pretty eyelashes. “Where was my invite?”

“Ah, yeah. Remember that girl on our team the other night?” Jungkook has a cheeky grin. Why does he have such a cheeky grin while talking about some e-girl, and why does your tummy hurt all of a sudden? “She helped me climb out of plat. She’s diamond.”

So what? That’s the same rank as you. Nothing special. Hmph. You hope she gets demoted before the act ends. You’re not a jealous person, but you are petty.

“How do you know she’s a she?” asks the engineer with plump lips.

“That’s what she told me,” Jungkook continues. “And it fits with the fact that she doesn’t use a mic. You guys know how fucked up people can be in that game.”

You nod along to that.

“What’s her username again? I wanna add her now,” the other engineer jumps in. This one has broad shoulders. Very broad.

“You just want to hit on her,” Engineer #1 shakes his head at Engineer #2. You agree with that too.

“Is she single? Or at least around our age?” asks the accountant.

“You guys are monsters,” Jungkook laughs. “I’ll give you her username only if you promise not to simp.”

“Fine,” they all agree reluctantly.

You convince yourself that you’re only eavesdropping because they’re talking too loud, but you’re actually just curious to search up the username and see how this e-girl’s game stats stack up against yours. You’re quite confident your headshot percentage will outrank hers.

“It’s CL, remember?”

“Oh right.”

No, not right. That’s definitely not the username you picked as a subtle nod to your favorite author, and Jungkook is definitely not the lovesick fuck boy you’ve been giving advice to through some wack ass shooter game. Definitely not.

Because if it were true, that would mean Jungkook has a crush on somebody in your office. And who the heck would that be?

“Ready to head out?” Jungkook pops out of nowhere and scares the shit out of you. You nearly leap out of your seat with a tight fist around your tablet pen like you’re about to knife the boy in-game. He holds your book up as a shield. “Whoa there.”

“My bad, I thought you were the enemy.” You snap the pen back onto your tablet and say it with a straight face as if he knows you play the same violent game as him.

He plays along, scanning the office for anyone suspicious. “Who’s the enemy?”

“Marketing?” You only say that because everyone in the office knows the marketing director Kim Namjoon was your college nemesis back when you were even pettier than you are now.

“Ah,” he nods as you pack up and roll your chair in. You’ve always wondered why he just accepts the weird things you do without question. “Glad I’m not your enemy. Wouldn’t want to be stabbed by your tablet pen. Or your nails.”

He points to your pretty manicure. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he’s subtly asking to hold your hand. But you do know better. He has an intense crush on someone else in the building, so there’s really no reason why he’d want to hold your hand.

So instead of misreading the situation and making a fool of yourself by entwining your fingers with his, you poke your favorite of his tattoos (the silly face on his middle finger) with your acrylic. “Consider yourself stabbed.”

You try not to look at the boy’s wrinkly smile. But it’s incredibly hard. Instead, you redirect your eyes anywhere else. Of course they fall on the “it couple” of the office passing by. They don’t do a whole lot of PDA, but the way they look at each other says it all, and they have this glow about them that seems so unobtainable. You feel the envy creeping up again.

On the elevator ride down, you try not to think about the happy couple or Jungkook’s wrinkly smile. It’s making you sad.

“Can I ask you something?” he turns to you. Maybe his question will take your mind off everything bringing your mood down. You nod for him to proceed. “How do you feel about dating a coworker?”

Shitty. You feel shitty. He could probably sense that from your silence upon seeing the couple.

“You mean like Hyuna and Dawn?” You don’t have a problem with it, or with them. If you could pull off a perfect office romance like them, you’d do it too. But it doesn’t seem likely for you, and that’s what sucks.

“Just in general. Like, do you think it’s fine, or is it crossing the line?” he asks. Aha, you get it now. He’s asking for your opinion because he doesn’t want to make you, his totally platonic friend, feel uncomfortable when he starts dating whoever he has a crush on here.

“HR allows it, so I don’t really see a problem with it,” you answer honestly. Sure, you’d be hurt if you had to work in an environment where Jungkook is doing lovey-dovey things with someone else, but you’re not going to be the one to ruin it for him.

“I’ve never seen you date anyone here, though.”

“Well I don’t get asked out all the time like you, Jungkook.”

“What about Mark from accounting? Or my guy Jooheon before he moved overseas? And don’t get me started on Kim Namjoon.” He has his fingers out and ready to list all the other guys in the office who’ve expressed some sort of interest in you, but he decides against it when he sees you glaring back at him. Wise man.

You’d love to know why he’s so familiar with your nonexistent office dating history.

“Okay, I get it. I’ve been asked out a fair amount,” you sigh. “But it doesn’t really count if they aren’t the right person.”

That earns you a soft head tilt from the boy. You swear he’s a puppy. “Oh? Miss Y/N has a type?”

When you think about it, a few of the guys who’ve asked out were your type—smart, funny, hardworking—and yet you still said no. They’ve never hand-delivered meeting notes and chamomile tea when you were out sick, never walked you to your car, never given you something to look forward to at work, and never known your favorite animal. They’ve never made you want them the way you want a certain someone else.

“I wouldn’t exactly call it a type.” It’s a person. The person who makes you feel so safe and cared for. The person who has feelings for another girl. “It’s a little more complicated than that.”

You don’t like being vague, but saying any more than that would only set you up for heartbreak. He can’t hurt you if you stay silent.

As the elevator continues to count down, Jungkook leans against the railing, arms crossed and head down. He’s awfully quiet for someone who always feels the need to say something silly until you laugh.

“What if I told you there’s one more person in the office who’s interested in you?” he asks just before the elevator arrives on the first floor.

The door slides open but neither of you steps out, so it closes back up.

You blink at the boy. First you learn Jungkook has a crush on someone, and now someone suddenly has a crush on you? Your brain genuinely doesn’t know what to do with all this information.

You’d ask who your secret admirer is, but it doesn’t matter. You’d only say yes to one person in this office, and his feelings lie elsewhere. Maybe he’s just trying to set you up with another guy who can walk you to your car. It’s not like the two of you would be able to keep up that tradition once he’s committed to someone else.

You’d rather walk alone at that point.

“A workplace romance sounds cool and all.” You point at the book in Jungkook’s hand while trying to keep a light tone. “But it’s just not for me. You know what I mean?”

He nods with a chuckle as the two of you finally clear out of the elevator. “Based on my history here, it’s probably not for me either.”

You know he’s poking fun at himself, but you hope he doesn’t actually feel that way about himself. He still needs to ask his girl out, and he can’t chicken out now. As the person he’s confided in about his feelings, it’s your job to shower him with encouragement and support. You’ll have to wait until you’re back online, though.

On the way to your car, the office romance conversation has been completely dropped. You ramble on about your sudden craving for tacos, and he claims he makes a “mean taco salad” before sending you a screenshot of the recipe no one asked for. You’ll try it when you get home.

Like always, he leans against your car door as you buckle yourself in. This time, he even tugs on the seatbelt like amusement park workers do before sending you off on a roller coaster. As gentle as he is, it stings where the tips of his fingers graze your shoulder. That feeling lingers even after the door closes.

Jungkook wasn’t lying, you think to yourself as you munch away at his definition of a “mean taco salad.” Your first instinct is to text him about it, but your second one is to silence your phone and cozy up for the night. After your shower, you have another staredown with the pretty lingerie set. At this rate, no one’s going to see you in it, so you might as well wear it and look cute for yourself.

It’s a little more see-through than you’re normally comfortable with, but the soft silky champagne accents make your body glow. To complete the look, you throw on a short skimpy robe with a baby pink floral pattern. Perhaps you’re being extra for a quiet night in with your cat and a cup of chamomile tea. But it’s what you need right now because you’re desperately searching for something to comfort and distract you from that dang feeling Jungkook left you with.

It also couldn’t hurt to play a few games without Jklmnop. Maybe you’ll get lucky with the whale shark gun today.

Unfortunately, there’s still no whale shark gun in your shop, but at least Jungkook isn’t online yet. The four games you play without him go really well stat-wise. You’re the team MVP for half those games—something you hadn’t achieved all weekend with Jklmnop on your team. He’s a great friend but the kind of ally who will intentionally blind you so he can make you quake in your boots and steal your kill in the process. He’s lucky he hasn’t let you die while fucking around like that. Still, you can’t remember the last time you had that much fun in your matches.

As you review the summary of game #4, a notification pops up in the top corner of your screen.

[Jklmnop is online!]

“wanna carry me to radiant?” he DMs you right away and sends you an invite.

“no,” you type as you join his party.

“what if i trade you my whale shark gun?”

“fine”

The first thing you do when you spawn into the match is demand the whale shark gun. You put your baseball bat to his head, waiting for him to keep his end of the bargain. The boy drops the gun in front of you and backs away slowly.

“It’s cute that you like that skin so much,” he chuckles into his mic. When you hear his voice, you feel like an idiot for convincing yourself that Jklmnop and Jeon Jungkook weren’t the same person. There’s no mistaking that that’s the calm and flirty voice that has haunted you every day at work for the past year. Does it make you an asshole for wholeheartedly believing your local fuck boy friend wasn’t capable of developing real feelings for someone in the office? Probably, but you intend on redeeming yourself by sending him your full support in the love department. You’re just waiting for him to bring it up.

Twenty kills and one stolen ace later, Jungkook still hasn’t said anything about the mysterious You-know-who—which is weird, considering he wouldn’t shut up all weekend about how she’s “soft like a kitten” but “one that won’t hesitate to bring the claws out.” Who is this girl, and what has she done to Jungkook? He’s become a total cheeseball. And you can’t think of a single person in the office who fits his cheesy description.

“any update on youknowwho about youknowwhat?” you type between rounds.

Jungkook’s character paces back and forth in the snow even after the round begins. The three other members of your team starts following him like ducklings without knowing the context. You watch from afar as they get sniped down one by one until you’re the last one alive.

Usually in 1v5 situations like this, you’re great at keeping your cool and isolating your duels so you aren’t overwhelmed by an ambush. But instead of listening for footsteps and directional cues, you’re listening hard for the boy’s response to your question.

“Clutch this and I’ll give you an update on You-know-who,” he says after you cut the enemy team’s numbers down to one. All you have to do now is plant the bomb and wait for the last person to come out to start defusing. That’s when you’ll swoop in and—

Your character falls face first into the snow. You’ve been knifed from behind, which loses you the round but earns you an evil snicker from Jungkook.

At the start of the next round, you wait once more for the boy to trade his gun with you. But instead, he just stands there, clutching onto the weapon while the rest of the team rushes onto the site to plant the bomb.

“I’ve decided not to ask her out,” he says out of nowhere. “We have this wholesome thing between us, and it’s best if we keep it that way.”

“what makes you say that?” you type before joining up with the others on site. As far as you know, Jungkook isn’t wholesome with any coworker. Except you, maybe. He must have some other strange definition of wholesome.

“Let’s just say I read a whole ass book tonight about a workplace romance and realized I’m not cut out for it.” He really read your book. No. He devoured it. Why does that mean the absolute world to you? “She’s seen me going on date after date, and now I’m pretty sure I’ve scared her away from wanting any part of that.”

He’s not wrong. You used to feel the same way about him, so you understand why he has his reservations. But if that girl knew how much he’d cherish their relationship the way he cherishes your friendship with him, you know she’d fall for him too. There’s no doubt in your mind about that. It’s just a matter of him vocalizing it.

“i still think you should be upfront with her about your feelings,” you type away as you get headshot from who knows where.

“She can’t hurt me if I stay silent,” Jungkook hums as he runs toward the ticking bomb and crouches in front of it. It looks like he’s trying to defuse the bomb that your own team planted, but it explodes in his face before you have time to correct him.

“gj,” one of your teammates puts in the chat even though everyone watching knows it was not a “good job.” The only silver lining is that he secured the win for your team. You don’t feel like playing anymore, anyway.

Before you log off for the night, you start typing out some long motivational speech along with your top ten reasons as to why Jungkook would make an excellent boyfriend. He’d try new things with you, share some of his favorite things with you, make sure you’re safe, and tease you until the end of time while making you feel so so loved. You know this because it’s what he’s done with you for the past year. But the more you think about it, the more you realize it’s not your place to say all of that from behind a screen with your mic on mute.

You end up deleting your whole spiel and settle for a simple “good night😴” to the boy from your gaming account. Then you get back on your phone.

Y/N🦈 [11:47PM] “It was indeed a mean taco salad”

Y/N🦈 [11:47PM] “Btw did you finish the book?👀”

Jungkook🥴 [11:48PM] “Finished it in 4 hours😌”

Y/N🦈 [11:49PM] “Wanna drop it off to me now?”

Jungkook🥴 [11:49PM] “Now?”

Jungkook🥴 [11:50PM] “Isn’t it past your bedtime?”

Y/N🦈 [11:51PM] “Yes but my cat can’t fall asleep without his bedtime story”

Y/N🦈 [11:51PM] “🥺”

Y/N🦈 [11:51PM] “^^^My cat”

Jungkook🥴 [11:54PM] “omw”

The boy knocks on your door a few minutes later and does a horrible job of keeping his eyes above shoulder level. It doesn’t occur to you that your chest and ass are hanging out of your robe until the chilly air hits those spots.

“All dressed up for your night with Lauren Christina?” he says casually, handing the book back to you in mint condition.

“I thought you said Christina Lauren doesn’t care about my lingerie.” You cross your arms over your chest like it was totally intentional to answer the door in the bare minimum. Jungkook’s sleepwear, on the other hand, looks super cozy. And of fucking course he’s hot as hell in something as simple as sweats and a hoodie. A boy like him doesn’t have to put in any thought or effort to look cute.

“I stand by what I said.” He stares at your exposed skin in an almost lustful manner. Almost. “It’s cold out. You should go crawl back in bed and read your cat his bedtime story. Or do you need me to tuck him in, too?”

“He is quite needy,” you play along. Too bad he’s already fast asleep, all curled up on the couch. You wouldn’t mind if Jungkook tucked you in, though.

“Well tell your needy cat I said goodnight.” He takes a step back toward his car, but you know he must realize you didn’t call him all the way over here just for your cat’s sake.

“Jungkook,” you call out while flipping through the book. Once you find the bookmark wedged in the middle, you extend it to him like a peace offering.

He accepts the bookmark albeit with a puzzled expression. “Is this gratuity for delivering your book at this late hour?”

You shake your head. “It’s gratuity for lending me your whale shark gun all the time.”

“Whale shark gun?” He grips the bookmark by the dorsal fin and holds it like a pistol. It’s aimed at your left breast (or heart) (but breast sounds more accurate).

“The one from the Gentle Giants collection,” you say softly as you rub your arms because holy shit is it cold out. “In Valoranch.”

The wheels in his head start to turn as you pull him inside and toward your “work from home” setup in the living room. Your desk is pretty empty aside from the pastel headset, the cute dolphin Pokémon on your desktop wallpaper, and a cold cup of tea.

Then he spots the little Valoranch shortcut on the far left corner of your screen. “Wait, you really play Valoranch? What’s your username?”

Instead of telling him, you show him with the help of your book. Your index finger slides across the bookcover from the C in Christina to the L in Lauren.

His eyes widen like a naughty cat caught doing something it shouldn’t be doing.

“Then that means you know about…” He pauses because he dare not repeat his feelings for another coworker in front of you.

You nod. “But I didn’t realize it was you until I overheard you talking about it with the guys earlier today.”

“My voice and backstory didn’t give it away?”

“It definitely sounded like you.” You plop into your chair and start spinning around so he can’t get a clear view of your face. “But how was I supposed to know you had feelings for someone in our office? I still don’t know who she is, by the way.”

“You don’t?” Your childlike spins are interrupted by a steady hand. From the corner of your eye, you can see the boy’s face transition from doomed to amused. Good. He shouldn’t beat himself up over the bizarre situation.

“Nope.” At least you don’t have a specific face to imagine being next to Jungkook’s on those corny holiday cards that couples and families love to hand out around the office this time of year. “Regardless, you need to stop chickening out and just tell her how you feel already. If she knows you the way I know you, I promise you have nothing to worry about.”

The thing is, you don’t know if anyone else has been on the receiving end of the kinds of things Jungkook does for you. Does he show that side to anyone else but you?

“Fine, you’ve convinced me. I’ll do it.” He sits himself down beside the cat on the couch. “But only if you can figure out who it is.”

You give him a tiny nod for him to drop some hints. Of course you’ll lend an ear and play along if that’s what it takes for him to be more open about his feelings. Besides, you can’t say no when his voice is so soft and fragile like that.

“She’s on the design team.” Your team is fairly small, so that narrows it down to names and faces you’d actually recognize.

“She has the most complex coffee order I’ve ever seen.” More complex than yours?

“I impulse-bought that whale shark gun because it reminds me of her.” Someone else has good taste in endangered marine life.

“My second job includes walking her to her car after work and pretending to be her hottie boyfriend.” Wait.

“And lastly, in case all of those other hints weren’t obvious enough, she has a needy cat who’s obsessed with Christina Lauren.” He strokes between your needy kitty’s ears and tucks the little guy in under a blanket. What a lucky cat.

Jungkook only stops with the wholesome shit when you climb into his lap and press your lips into his jawline. On instinct, he slips beneath your robe and grabs you at the waist with those gentle hands of his. He smells of cardamom and cedarwood, like the candle you burn on cold nights when fluffy blankets aren’t enough. And like a moth, you’re attracted to the light and warmth he radiates in the dimness of your home. Even if it means you might get burned.

“Congratulations, you finally got the name right.” You stick your tongue out while your nails comb their way through the locks of hair at the back of his neck. He locks eyes with you, leaning ever so slightly into the massage the way cats do when they need more attention.

And then your lips meet his. You expect the guy who’s locked lips with everyone in the office to get straight to the point and not hold back, but that isn’t the case. What he gives you instead is a soft graze, an affectionate tease. When you try to go in for another taste, he pulls back and lets you chase him. You’d love nothing more than to wipe that smirk off his face with another kiss.

“I thought you said you weren’t down to date a coworker?” Smartass. You wouldn’t be sitting on top of his cock if you weren’t down to be more intimate with him.

“That only applies to everyone except you.” Your robe slides off your shoulder as you poke him in the chest. Funny how you aren’t cold anymore.

“What makes me so special?” he asks while getting a sneak peek of the pretty lingerie you’d secretly hoped he’d see on you.

You think about all the little things he does—he walks with you, reads your book recommendations, takes note of your favorite animals and coffee shops. And he never expects anything in return, including your feelings apparently. He just wants to make sure you feel seen and know he always has your back. When he’s too chicken to be upfront about his feelings, you’ve come to realize this is his love language.

“You might be open about all the sleeping around you do with other people, but the subtle thoughtful things you do just for me don’t go unnoticed.” You run your fingers along his cheek and bring your lips within striking distance from his. This time, he doesn’t initiate another chase and allows you to press your words into his mouth. “Plus I think it’s really cute that you use the whale shark skin in-game because of me.”

“That’s when I knew I was down bad.” The sound he makes is somewhere between a chuckle and an embarrassed sigh. “I didn’t even know you played that game and yet my mind was still finding ways to connect everything back to you and your little quirks.”

“I knew I was down bad when I installed that game after hearing you raging about it with the boys,” you blurt out of nowhere.

“You did what, Y/N?”

“I started playing that headache of a game because of you, okay? I wholeheartedly believed I was taking that secret to the grave, but now it stays between you and me. Got it?” Your face feels hot, but you aren’t complaining.

“Yes, ma’am.” His teasing grin will never get old, and you love that about him.

In the heat of another kiss, you feel Jungkook tug on the silky sash at your waist. Your robe opens up like curtains being drawn for a grand reveal. Exposed as you are, there’s no need to hide anymore. In fact, you’d be more than down to have sex out in the open on the couch, but you also have to consider the innocent kitten sleeping next to you.

Like the considerate boy he is, Jungkook scoops you up without disturbing the cat and makes his way to your bedroom.

He lays you down on the bed and eyes your body from head to toe. If he wasn’t giving you horny eyes when you greeted him at the door, he definitely is now.

“Am I gonna get you in trouble for keeping you up past your bedtime?” He saves time by tearing his hoodie and t-shirt off in one go. Based on those abs, you suppose working out is another one of his favorite pastimes alongside sex, gaming, and fucking around with you.

“No.” You reach for his body and pull him on top of you. The large bulge tucked away in his sweatpants catches your attention. “But I might be a little sore for tomorrow.”

“Oh? Is that how you like it?” He rubs two fingers against the thin fabric between your legs to test the waters. Your body shudders and tenses up from the tiniest of touches. Given the dry spell you’ve suffered through this year, you know it won’t take much for you to lose it. “Sure you can handle it?”

“Try me.” You push back with your tongue in his mouth and help him out of his sweats. You’re one swipe away from clawing his boxers off, but he grabs ahold of your wrists and pins you against the pillows.

“Someone’s awfully eager,” he says as he leaves a trail of kisses from your neck to your breasts. You squirm under his hot breath, asking for more contact—anywhere on your body will do.

“Yeah, well, we do have another meeting bright and early tomorrow morning, and it’d look bad if we both fell asleep during it because we were up all night having—” Your rambling is interrupted by the boy’s cock staring you down. He tears open a square packet, but you swipe it away and slide it down his length. You don’t mind a bit of rubber if it gives you an excuse to get your paws on him.

In return, he helps you wiggle out of your teeny tiny thong and bra. His hands waste no time in squeezing your breasts and fingering you down below to make sure you’re wet enough. (Spoiler alert: You most definitely are.)

As big as he is, he slides in with relative ease thanks to how desperately you need him inside you. He fills you in perfectly, too, reaffirming the fact that you and him are perfect for one another. Fuck everyone who thinks otherwise.

You dig your long nails into his arms as he moves in and out of you. If he keeps going harder with every thrust, you’re gonna have a difficult time holding on.

“I swear your nails are like cat claws,” he grunts into your ear but makes no actual effort to extract your nails from his arms.

“If I recall correctly, you did refer to me as a soft kitten who isn’t afraid to bring her claws out,” you hum up at him.

“Hey, let’s not talk about all the sappy things I said in-game right now.” There’s a hint of poutiness in his otherwise raspy bedroom voice. As punishment for teasing him, he flips you over onto your knees to give him the best view of your ass. “You weren’t supposed to hear that stuff.”

“Tell me something I’m supposed to hear,” you challenge him as he gives your ass a good squeeze. His fingers dip back between your legs and circle your clit a few times. You body rubs back on instinct like a horny pup against a toy.

“I would like to formally ask you out,” he says with his hands at your hips and his cock back inside you. "Will you go out with me?"

“You're a little late, buddy, but yes, I’ll go out with you,” you chuckle until your orgasm sneaks up on you and hits you like a truck. The moans you let out are probably loud enough to wake the cat, but that just means the two of you will have to relocate the next time you have sex. Perhaps his place or the office breakroom might be worth considering.

Your arms give out as you tighten around him, so you lower your face to the pillow and let the boy do as he pleases to your body to get his release. After a few more strong thrusts, he gasps your name out in pleasure and pulls out of you. You give him a good ten seconds to catch his breath before you smother him with a million kisses.

You take a glance at the time on your phone. It’s getting awfully late, and you do have that meeting in the morning, but the two of you have a few options:

A) Cuddle in bed and go to sleep like normal 9-5ers.

B) Hop online and play a few games together because your computer’s still on.

C) Go another round and make a special coffee run before the meeting.

None of those options sound like a bad idea when you’ve got Jeon Jungkook to do them with. All he has to do is say the word and you're down.

#bts smut #jungkook smut #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #bts imagines #jungkook fanfic #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #bts fluff #fuck boy jungkook #gamer jungkook #coworker au #office au #jungkook f2l #bts f2l #friends to lovers #mutual pining #jungkook #bts

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bbtsficrecs · 6 months

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BTS FIC RECS PART 4 Part 4 of some of my favourite BTS fanfics. Please do consider liking, reblogging and/or commenting on the fics you like. There are so many wonderful and amazing authors out there who do not get the recognition they deserve. So please send them lots of love to keep them going. If you're on here, then know I enjoyed every second of reading your story ♡ There will be two parts 4 as it's (sadly?) too long to be saved under one post. Stay tuned for part 5, joon recs will be added!

Please let me know if some of the links aren’t working. Happy reading!

⊹ Hell Is Empty - drabble Love triangle AU | a | @aquagustd ‣ An important phone call between Yoongi & OC.

⊹ You’re The Best I’ve Ever Had Boyfriend Jungkook, Chubby reader | a, f, s | @adoredcore ‣ Jungkook’s touches were so soft. So soft you almost barely even felt them. Keyword: almost. His smooth fingertips ran along your silky skin, while the tip of his pink tongue ran across the nape of your neck.

⊹ Fool Me Once Fuckboy AU | a, s | @jeonqkooks ‣ You never expect anything from Jungkook, but somehow he always manages to let you down.

⊹ Attitude CEO Jungkook au | s | @lushtans ‣ Your relationship with your CEO is... Rather complicated. Aside your professional relationship, he fucks you whenever he feels like it and as much as you hate to admit the truth, you love it.

⊹ Don't Worry, Be Happy Daddy Jungkook AU, | f | @jvngkook97 ‣ "You guys have been trying to conceive for a little over a year now, but have yet to be fully successful."

⊹ Trap Idol Jungkook AU, | f | @jiminpitys ‣ In which you show up at your boyfriend's concert soundcheck as a surprise, and to your own, he’s wearing an outfit that’s bound to make you feel a certain way.

⊹ Addicted College AU, | f , s | @sparklingchim ‣ Your boyfie Jungkook fucking you silly.

⊹ B i g o l e f r e a k Friends with benefits AU | f , s | @joonberriess ‣ You’re both exclusive only to each other. Jungkook fucks the way he acts—crazy, hard. too bad you’re only here for the ride..

⊹ Foundation - Part 01, 02, 03 feat Yoongi Non-idol doctors AU | f , s, a | @hamsterclaw ‣ You know Jungkook is a fuckboy. So why are you letting him fuck with you? Featuring Yoongi.

⊹ Paint me naked Artist Jungkook AU | f , s, a | @gimmethatagustd ‣ After the mysteriously hot guy in your university class starts taking an interest in you, should you really trust that he’s not like all the other college fuckboys? Especially when his best friend is the guy who broke your heart?

⊹ Why are you so late? Idol Jungkook AU | f , s | @kimnjss

‣ With such a packed scheduled, you’d think Jungkook would be on top of his game. But when a morning rolling around the sheets with you is thrown into the mix, it’s expected for him to want to take his time.

⊹ Our beloved summer - Series (on-going) Producer Jungkook AU | f, s, a | @jeonqkooks ‣ You made a vow to hate Jeon Jungkook ever since he packed up and left you without a single explanation, but when he shows up at your door after years of radio silence, it turns out that maybe your resolve isn’t as strong as you thought.

⊹ Heaven can wait Chubby reader AU | f, s ish | @adoredcore ‣ "What’s a chance I’ll take baby I’ll stay heaven can wait."

⊹ Midnight cravings Established relationship AU | f | @hobiholic ‣ You want to go to the convenience store late at night to fulfill your midnight cravings but a sleepy Jungkook stops you.

⊹ Wet dreams Somnophilia AU | s | @kookiecrumb ‣ “I want you to use me…whenever you need me,”

⊹ Look at you - Risqué drabble Risqué couple AU | s, f | @mercurygguk ‣ Mirror shopping with your boyfriend turns into something else entirely.

⊹ In the middle of the night Friends with benefits AU | s, f | @joonsmoonluna ‣ It’s the middle of the night and Jungkook’s in need of you

⊹ Like I'm famous Idol Jungkook AU | s, f | @softyoongiionly ‣ It’s New Years Eve and Jungkook would rather be anywhere else than at his company’s massive party. Sure, he’s a guest of honor and his team rented out the nicest hotel in Seoul, but ringing in the New Year with you on the other side of the world just feels wrong. He doesn’t know how he’s supposed to celebrate without the woman he loves, but maybe- just maybe…he won’t have to…

⊹ Strangers to lovers Established relationship AU | s | @kissmetae ‣ You’re a regular at the gym and today you decided to workout late. You thought you were alone, but it turned out there was one other person at the gym and you so happened to be his gym crush…

⊹ My dear friends Friends to lovers AU | s, f, a | @kooktrash ‣ Just friends? Keep telling yourself that, you and Jungkook have always danced on the line of friendship and something more but lately you’ve struggled being able to tell where you guys stand.

⊹ Red - Part 03 Pregnancy AU | s, f, a | @taestefully-in-luv ‣ You drunkenly sleep with your ex-boyfriend, Jungkook. Can’t be that bad right? Unless he gets you pregnant.

⊹ As we were - Series (on-going) Cheating/Infidelity AU | s, a | @archivedkookie ‣ Your husband cheats on you and find comfort in someone else’s arms. He claims he’s happy—but is he really?

⊹ Imagine Model Jungkook AU | s, f | @chryblossomjjk ‣ Jungkook wants nothing more than to spend your anniversary cuddled up in a fancy hotel bathroom, eating takeout and binge watching TV shows. You, on the other hand, have something more exciting in mind.

⊹ Practice - part 02, 03 Fuckboy Jungkook AU | s, a | @chryblossomjjk ‣ You usually spend Friday nights on your own. Tonight, however, your friend and campus fuckboy, Jungkook, decides to pay you a visit.

⊹ Lost Cause Cheating AU | a | @kooksbunnnn ‣ Jungkook comes back to you after his 10 day trip to Busan, and you sense something different about him.

⊹ The Boy With Galaxies In His Eyes Idol AU | a, s, f | @oddinary4bts ‣ You had never thought the night sky could be found in someone’s eyes. That is, until you met Jeon Jungkook and his gravity pulled you in. Will he crush you with the galaxies in his eyes, or will you learn to explore his worlds and make them yours?

⊹ Beyond Infinity - As We Were drabble As We Were Couple AU | a, s, f | @archivedkookie ‣ Jungkook does something you always dreamt about, and it ends up with the most beautiful night of your life.

⊹ What If I Love You Too Much Single Mom AU | a, s, f | @taleasnewastime ‣ Jungkook. It’s only a name you learn after your son kicks his ball over the fence. Before that you only knew him as the hot new neighbour who mows his lawn topless. And though you have no intention of getting to know him anymore than that, inevitably you do. You don’t necessarily fall, it’s too slow for that, but you definitely develop feelings you don’t intend to feel. Because you know men like him, and you know that whatever you’re feeling, he’s probably not feeling the same. All the same, however hard you try, you can’t help yourself.

⊹ Services For A Queen Sub!JK AU | s | @taegonia ‣ Jungkook serves his queen in more ways than just as the royal head of security.

⊹ Cold Nights & Blurred Lines FWB & College AU | a, s, f | @awrkive ‣ Jungkook and you have been keeping a sexual relationship with each other for four months now, and it’s casual for the most part. But as time passes, you can’t help but feel that some of the lines suddenly got blurred in the process. Is it a cliché to blur the lines with your fuck buddy? It definitely is. Will you do something about it? Both of your emotional constipation have a hard time saying yes.

⊹ Strictly Platonic Bestfriends to Lovers & College AU | a, s, f | @jeonqkooks ‣ Sometimes, Jungkook can be a little selfish; and sometimes, the lengths you would go to for his happiness mean relinquishing your own.

⊹ In The Middle Of The Night FWB AU | s, f | @joonsmoonluna ‣ it’s the middle of the night and Jungkook’s in need of you ⊹ Perfectionist Dancer AU | s | @miraclesatnightfall ‣ "He watched you, with each sensual step you made his eyes darkened with explicit desire" ⊹ Tangle Free Establish Relationship AU | f | @here4btsfics ‣ Bad days lead to you needing your boyfriend for comfort, specifically by playing with his hair.

⊹ As It Was - Apart of Boy With Love Series (on-going) College AU | a | @ggukiepie ‣ You bump into Jungkook days after you find out he has a girlfriend; things don't go so well

⊹ The Habits Of A Broken Heart Soulmate & Unrequited love AU | a, f | @softykooky ‣ Jungkook and you are soulmates. So says the matching crescent moons on both your wrists. However, things are never as easy as they seem, and you are quick to learn that falling in love with someone who does not believe in love is a one-way ticket to heartbreak. ⊹ Blackout - part 02, 03 Best friends to Lovers | s, a, f | @jjungxkook ‣ Utility bills shooting up like this should be an international crime. Luckily, Jungkook has the perfect idea(s) to save up money and make your night sinfully unforgettable.

⊹ Step Brother Step Siblings AU | s | @aris-ink ‣ Sub yn *innocently* dry humps her step brother jk while he plays video games.

⊹ Forbidden Romance Step Siblings AU | s | @aris-ink ‣ "It wasn’t unusual for your stepbrother to check up on you before bed. You’ve grown closer than you initially thought you would; it turned out that beneath the surface, you and Jungkook weren’t that different, after all."

⊹ My Perfect Patient Dentist Office AU | s, f | @pinkcherrybombs ‣ Jaw pain is just as much of a pain in the mouth as it is in the ass, but don't worry, your favorite dentist is sure to fix you right up, using some special methods.

⊹ Confessions - part 02 Office AU | a | @pinkcherrybombs ‣ Since we're about to die, I need you to know, I've always loved you, Jungkook.

⊹ Getting Railed Boyfriend Jungkook AU | s | @dearlytea ‣ Getting dicked by your boyfriend during a train ride.

⊹ Make You Mine College AU | a, s, f | @mercurygguk ‣ Your first day at your new college is quite eventful to say the least. But everything seems slightly less chaotic when Jeon Jungkook offers to help you on your way – if only knowing him wasn’t an even bigger mess than the day you first met.

⊹ Catch 22 College AU | s, f | @alluremin ‣ You and your best friend had agreed: college was for a good time only, no serious relationships were necessary. Who knew that a frat boy would be the one to shake up that notion?

⊹ Tolerate It - part 02 Failing marriage! au | a | @lmaosope ‣ Marriage is difficult, and every married couple fights. but jungkook has been late one too many times and broken one too many promises. it has you wondering why you give everything for a man who simply tolerates you.

⊹ Make You Mine Jock Jk au | a , s, f | @mercurygguk ‣ Your first day at your new college is quite eventful to say the least. But everything seems slightly less chaotic when Jeon Jungkook offers to help you on your way – if only knowing him wasn’t an even bigger mess than the day you first met.

⊹ His Throne - 01, 02, 03 Prince JK au | a, s, f | @jiminsa ‣ You, a maid for the royal family, have sex with the irresistible prince Jeon Jungkook on his throne.

#my recs #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook drabble #jungkook imagine #jungkook fic recs #bts fanfic #bts fic recs

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strangesem · 1 year

Text

hobie brown x goth!reader

a/n: I’m not goth but I am alt and borrow from a lot of traditional goth stuff so this request was really exciting for me :,))

requested by @buncom420 !! I’ll do the other one in a different post I just need some more time :)

first of all if you do goth makeup (full or partial) he thinks it’s so sick

you’d definitely hit it off immediately; I find members of different alternative subcultures mix together well and you two would be no different!

hobie loves how different your style is and how it defies societal expectations/norms

he could watch you get ready for literal hours on end he loves watching you put together clothes, accessories, shoes, etc and pairing it all with matching makeup

side note he definitely sees your makeup as a form of art and treats it as such; he’d probably ask you to teach him how to do individual parts slowly over time so one day he can try to do it for you

he might steal some of your accessories tbh-

but it’s okay bc he’d let you take whatever you want of his until he returns them

although he definitely prefers casual hangout dates he’d be down to see a goth show every once in a while!! alternative subcultures tend to overlap a bit so if he ever hears about a goth event he’d remember to bring it up to you

loves visiting you as spider-punk but there’s definitely some sort of meme out there with a picture of you two that says “goth/punk solidarity” or something lol-

he’s not super into goth music or anything but he will admit he prefers it to mainstream stuff and will learn your favourite songs on the guitar

would also def combine goth/punk elements in a song for you!!

if anyone ever made a distasteful comment about your style he’d definitely tell them to fuck off and stop preaching the establishments bs

if you somehow have similar shoe sizes he would also steal your boots I’m being serious

*if* you’re a spider-person and your suit was also goth inspired?? he thinks you look super cool

would def want to talk about how you integrated certain aspects into your suit

maybe you could even bounce ideas off each other on how to add more stuff to each others suits??

if you know anything about it you should talk to him about different subcultures within the goth community he’d find it really interesting

in return he’d describe different sectors of the punk movement/community!!

I honestly picture hobie dating someone who’s also alt in some way so this is the perfect combination tbh!! and he’d love you sm

reminder that hobie headcanon requests are open!!

#not proofread #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x you #hobie brown #spider punk #spider punk x reader #marvel #across the spiderverse

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