#I didn’t know about this guy before!! that’s fun !
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୭ 𝗩𝗜𝗞𝗧𝗢𝗥'𝗦 𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗜𝗖𝗘 ˚. ᵎᵎ
ekko 𝒙 fem!reader
viktor 𝒙 fem!reader (platonic)
୨୧ English is not my first language, so I regret in advance if something reads weird or is misspelled
୨୧ I don't know, I just thought it would be a fun dynamic, enjoy!
₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚
𓆤 Ekko crashing into you on his hoverboard was how it all began. It happened during one of your hurried trips back to Zaun after a grueling week in Piltover’s laboratories. You were distracted, engrossed in your mental checklist of materials Viktor had asked you to bring. You didn't even notice the faint whir of Ekko’s hoverboard until it was too late.
“Hey, watch—” Ekko started, his voice sharp with alarm before cutting off mid-sentence as the two of you collided.
You landed flat on your back with a groan, Viktor's precious schematics flying out of your bag. Ekko was quick to get up and extend a hand to help you up.
“Oh crap, I didn’t mean to—uh, are you okay?” Ekko asked with a sheepish grin.
“You should really watch where you’re going!” you snapped, brushing yourself off. Then your eyes locked. It was hard to stay mad at someone who looks like they actually cared.
From then on, every return trip to Zaun seemed incomplete without bumping into him, either by accident or by his deliberate attempts to "run into" you.
𓆤 Ekko had mixed feelings about your constant back-and-forth trips. He understood why you had to be in Piltover so much—your apprenticeship under Viktor was important—but that didn’t mean he liked it.
“You know, it’s kinda unfair,” he said one evening, as the two of you sat on the rooftop of a crumbling Zaun building. The view of the Undercity's twinkling lights stretched around you, and the new prototype of his hoverboard leaned against the nearby wall. “Piltover gets you all day, and Zaun just gets you at night.”
𓆤 Ekko loved your sharp mind. In fact, he found your involvement with Hextech fascinating, even if he teased you endlessly about being a “Piltover nerd.”
“Look at you, little Miss Zaunite Hextech Genius,” he’d say with a smirk as he watched you tinker with a device. “All fancy with your gears and crystals. Can you make something that doesn’t explode?”
You rolled your eyes.
“This is for science. Not for impressing you.”
“Oh, but you already impress me.” He’d wink, leaning over your shoulder to inspect your work. His genuine curiosity often led to him offering ideas that somehow worked, despite his lack of formal training. You suspected his innate knack for mechanics rivaled even Viktor’s.
𓆤 Ekko would often stop by you house in Undercity unannounced, bringing little gifts—scrap metal he thought you could use or metal flowers that he made with his own hands for you
𓆤 You, in turn, would surprise him with modifications for his hoverboard or gadgets to help the Firelights. His reaction to your gifts was always the same: pure delight.
𓆤 Leaving aside the jokes, he loved watching you work, claiming it was “like seeing genius in action.” You’d laugh and tell him to stop distracting you, but his presence always made the hours fly by.
𓆤 The two of you shared countless late-night conversations on rooftops, swapping dreams and fears.
𓆤 It started subtly. Ekko’s laugh lingered in your mind longer than it should have. His voice, the way he said your name, echoed in your thoughts while you worked. You found yourself doodling in the margins of your notes, spiraling into daydreams that left you blushing.
𓆤 Viktor initially didn’t think much of Ekko—at least not directly. He only knew of him through your constant chatter.
“Ekko said this really clever thing about—” “Ekko helped me figure out how to—” “Ekko...”
Eventually, Viktor sighed and set down his pen.
“I can’t believe you’re getting so worked up about some guy,” he said, exasperation lacing his words.
“This one is different!” you protested, fidgeting with a loose thread on your sleeve. “He’s honest, he’s sweet—”
“Please…”
“He would never do anything to hurt me!”
Viktor raised an eyebrow.
“He’s a guy.”
“He’s also... brilliant. And kind... and handsome... and—”
“Oh shit, here we go again…” He exhaled, completely tired.
𓆤 The meeting happened in Piltover, under less-than-ideal circumstances. You’d convinced the Academy to grant you temporary access to the lab for a personal project, ostensibly Hextech-related. In truth, you were helping Ekko repair an broken stabilizer for the Firelights
You thought you were being sneaky. You were wrong.
Viktor appeared in the doorway, cane tapping against the marble floor. His eyes immediately landed on the device in Ekko’s hands and then flicked to you.
“And what,” he asked dryly, “is going on here?”
Ekko froze, looking like a child caught stealing candy. You scrambled to explain, words tumbling out in a panicked mess.
To your surprise, Viktor didn’t explode. Instead, he regarded Ekko with quiet intensity. After a long pause, he nodded.
“You have talent,” he said to Ekko. “Perhaps more than you deserve.”
Ekko grinned, clearly amused. “Thanks? I think?”
From then on, Viktor tolerated Ekko’s presence, though he would often sigh dramatically whenever you brought him up in conversation.
𓆤 The news of Viktor’s declining health hit you like a blow. For all his brilliance, your mentor was mortal, and the idea of losing him felt unbearable. You confided in Ekko, who held you as you cried, his quiet strength grounding you.
“He’s proud of you, you know,” Ekko said softly, stroking your back. “He might not say it, but he is.”
Those words stayed with you, offering comfort during the hardest days.
𓆤 As Viktor’s condition worsened, he grew more reflective. One day, he called you into his office. You found him gazing out the window, his frail frame silhouetted against the light.
“You’ve been a good apprentice,” he said without turning around. “Better than I deserved.”
“Don’t say that,” you whispered, your throat tight.
He turned to face you, his expression soft despite the lines of pain etched into his face.
“I’m sorry I won’t be there for your wedding day.”
Your eyes widened.
“What—?”
“I’m not blind,” he said with a faint smile. “Or deaf. That boy... he makes you happy.”
Tears welled in your eyes.
“He does.”
“Then go to him,” Viktor said gently. “And live. Live, my dear. Work, yes, but also live. With him.”
₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚
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ᴛᴡᴏ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴇᴅ (ʀᴀꜰᴇ ᴄᴀᴍᴇʀᴏɴ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)
this is part two. for part one, click here!
pairing: rafe cameron x kook!f!reader, (not au, both are early to mid 20s)
word count: 4.4k
summary: rafe gives you an ultimatum, and in the setting sun, you see another
warnings: ANGST!!!!, pining/whipped reader, kook!reader & kook!rafe, suggestive but no outright smut, ultimatums, jj is alive, arguing, not proofread
a note: i'm sorry this is late!
please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧
Were you being punished by your love for him?
You tried to move on, you really did. You tried everything you could think of, bar from ignoring Rafe all together. You had even joined a dating app, where you met a fellow Kook named Alexander, and you went on a few dates with him. He was a great guy, handsome, smart, and charming, but he wasn’t Rafe. Alexander didn’t draw your attention away from your best friend that you were hopelessly still in love with, even after trying to gaslight yourself into believing that you had a crush on him.
You kept Alexander around for a while. He was a fun guy, he paid for your little lunch or coffee shop dates, and he was a good fuck. You had lied and told him that you just weren’t a very vocal girl in bed, but in reality you were biting your tongue to keep from moaning Rafe’s name into his ear. It had been a few weeks, and even after everything, Rafe was still the only person you thought of when you slipped your hands under your panties at night. You eventually started to feel bad about leading him on and tried to break things off amicably. He didn’t take it well, but you didn’t expect him to.
You had tried to distract yourself, going to party after party and club after club, making out with whatever guy you could get your hands on. But nothing worked. You couldn’t stop thinking about your Kook prince, the most feared man on Kildare that had a soft spot in his heart for you.
You had almost hoped that Rafe would’ve ditched you, would’ve kicked you to the side like a dog. At least it would be easier to move on that way, and you wouldn’t be stuck under his thumb, thinking about the ways you could get out of the hold he has on you. He still wanted to see you and be around you, constantly calling and texting like it was normal, like you hadn’t professed your undying love to him only three weeks ago. You felt like a two-headed monster. One head was his best friend, one head was deeply in love with him.
You know he’s fine, but what about you? What do you do?
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Even after everything, you still have to show up for your Friday night tradition; sitting on Rafe’s sofa, tucked under his arm, watching a shitty 80s zombie movies while eating a Costco pizza. You shouldn’t have agreed, knowing it would only make things harder, but you would do anything for him. Your poor heart would always surrender to him.
Maybe this time he would start falling for you, too.
You pull into the driveway of his new house, grabbing the pizza from the backseat before heading up to the front door, balancing the giant box with one hand as you knock.
The door swings open a second later, with Rafe standing in the doorway, grinning at the sight of the pizza box in your hands. He steps aside, gesturing for you to come in. “You’ve arrived with the goods, I see.”
You swallow hard. He looks so fucking good, wearing a tight black t-shirt and a pair of dark green sweatpants. You hug him with one arm, burying your face in his shoulder and inhaling deep. Your eyebrows furrow slightly and your free hand clenches around your keys. He smells different. Sweeter. Almost like candy.
Sofia must’ve been here earlier.
You pull away, carrying the pizza box into his living room. “Yup. I got you extra cheese, too.”
He follows behind you, shutting the door behind the two of you. His arm wraps around your shoulder when you reach the sofa, pulling you in tight to his side. “Extra cheese for my girl.” he teases, taking the box from you to set on the coffee table. You’re on the edge while he’s so goddamn polite and composed.
You tense up slightly as you settle into his sofa, grabbing the remote. You turn the TV on, trying to distract yourself from the empty feeling building up inside of you and gnawing at your guts. “Which movie are we watching tonight?”
“Mm…” He stretches out on the sofa, his legs tangling with yours as he looks over your shoulder at the TV. His body is pressed up against yours, and as usual, his proximity starts to stir up feelings deep inside of you. Feelings you thought you had managed to repress. “How about Romero?”
Your eyebrows furrow again. This man was going to give you wrinkles. “I thought we were watching zombie movies. Not ones about a Salvadoran archbishop.”
“No, not Romero like the actual archbishop, I mean like--” He lets out a frustrated sigh. “The man who invented the zombie film genre, dumbass. Do you need me to find a new best friend or something? Because you’re starting to get a little too idiotic for me.”
What the fuck? “Excuse me?”
He snorts, watching you get defensive. “Come on, it was a joke,” he says, nudging you with his knee. “Lighten up, I’m just teasing.”
“It wasn’t funny.” You say.
It’s then that he notices the way your shoulders are tense. Your jaw is clenched, and your eyes focus on the screen in front of the two of you with a bit too much intent. You’re upset. He can feel the agitation radiating off of you, and he hates it. He’s too used to his best friend being comfortable with him, happy around him. He lets out a breath, sitting up straight. “Don’t be like that,” he mutters. “Relax.”
“You don’t get to call me a dumbass, Rafe.” You say, your tone sharp.
Rafe stares at you, his irritation rising bit by bit. He takes in your expression, your sharp tone, the agitation that was practically coming off of you in waves. This was new territory for him. You weren’t just being cold, you were pissed. He’d never seen you this pissed at him. He didn’t like it.
He wanted the old you back, the you he thought you were. His best friend, his confidant, not the girl who’s helplessly in love with him, not the girl who lies awake all night thinking about him. Not the girl who moans his name into her pillow as she cums, hoping one day he would fall in love with her, too. He wanted you to just move on, to give up, to completely wipe your romantic feelings for him clean. He wanted more, while leaving you with less.
“You didn't use to care about this shit,” He says. “Not until you decided you were in love with me or whatever.”
“Decided?” You ask, scoffing. “It isn’t something you just wake up and decide.”
Rafe stares at you, his gaze hard, almost like he’s trying to search for the words that he wants to say. He was never good at this, talking about his feelings. He sighs, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “I… I don’t know.” He mutters, staring down at the floor. “I just wish things were the way they used to be, okay? I didn’t ask for all this bullshit. I never asked you to feel this way, so why are you making things so difficult?”
“I didn’t ask for this either.” You say.
“Well, you’re the one whose in love.” He says, the words almost bitter on his tongue. “You’re the one who made things difficult. I didn’t ask you to feel this way. I didn’t tell you to go and fall in love with me. So why are you getting pissed because I’m not in love with you too?”
“I’m not pissed, Rafe,” You say, although deep down you truly are. “I knew from the very beginning that I had no chance with you. I wouldn’t love me, either.”
He falls silent, running a hand through his hair. He didn’t know how to respond to that. He knew that wasn’t true. He knows that you’re beautiful, and sweet, and kind, and funny. He knew that you should have every chance with him. But he just didn’t love you that way. “How many times do we have to go over this?” He asks, his voice soft. “I’ve never loved you like that. You’re my best friend, you know that.”
“Thanks for the reminder.” You say bitterly.
He grits his jaw, frustrated now. He hated how bitter you were when it came to this. He hated that you expected him to be in love with you back when he just didn’t see you that way. He hated that he had to keep explaining this over and over again to you, and he hated the fact that you were just sitting here, pouting like a toddler. Like a girl who was in love.
He was tired of being the bad guy in this. “Then you shouldn’t have fallen in love with me.”
“I wish I never did.” You say.
He doesn’t speak. He doesn’t know what to say. He just turns to look at the movie, his jaw clenched. He hated that you said that. He hated that you wished you’d never fallen for him. He didn’t want you to wish that. If you didn’t fall for him, how long would it be before you fell for someone else? Someone who wasn’t him? He didn’t want the thought of you with another guy to piss him off so much.
Rafe sighs. “Quit looking at me like I’m the bad guy here.”
“Do you want me to pretend you’re a good guy?” You ask, crossing your arms.
“I am the good guy,” He snaps, his eyes narrowing. What the hell? He knew he wasn’t an angel by any means, but he was a good guy. He took care of his family, protected his friends, and stayed loyal to his girlfriend. “You’re the one who fell in love with me. I didn’t do anything wrong.”
You sigh, looking away. This was pointless, even more pointless than the daydreams you filled your mind with when you couldn’t sleep. “Whatever.”
He looks at you for a moment, jaw clenched, his body tense.
“You know, this whole self-pitying, 'woe is me, Rafe is the bad guy' bullshit is starting to piss me off. It’s getting annoying.” He says.
“I don’t know what you want me to do, Rafe.” You say.
“Stop acting as if I’ve done something wrong. Like I’ve wronged you,” He says, exasperated. He can’t understand why you’re being like this, and it’s pissing him off even more. “I don’t like you that way. I’ve never liked you that way. Why is that such a hard concept for you to accept?”
“It isn’t,” You say, your voice starting to get thick with emotion. “I know you don’t like me, I know you aren’t attracted to me, I just… it’s just so hard for me to move on, and I don’t know why.”
Rafe is silent for a moment, watching as your face starts to crumble. He can’t help but sigh. He moves closer to you, placing his hand on your thigh. Normally, it was the opposite. Normally it was you comforting him, not him trying to comfort you. “It’ll pass. You’ll get over it eventually.”
It’ll pass.
It’ll pass.
It will never pass, will it?
You sniffle, one hand reaching up to wipe the corners of your eyes. “I should go.”
He catches your wrist, tugging you back down on the sofa. “Sit down,” he says, his voice firm. “You’re not going anywhere yet. We need to talk about something.”
“About what?” You ask, not looking at him.
He lets go of your wrist, crossing his arms over his chest. “This,” He says simply, gesturing towards your face. “This…depression, sadness, self-pity bullshit. I hate seeing you the way you are right now, like you’ve just been kicked down. It’s pathetic. It’s not you.”
You don’t reply, finally looking over at him, eyes red rimmed with tears.
He stares back, his expression unchanging. You think he would’ve softened up at the sight of you, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t want to see you like this anymore. You’re supposed to be his best friend, the person he confides in and takes comfort in. “You’re supposed to be the person I come to when I’m upset. Not the other way around. This pity party you have going on needs to end. You’re better than that.”
You look back down at your lap, starting to pick at the skin around your thumbnails. “What do you want me to do?”
“Move on,” Rafe says, his tone harsher than he intended. “Move the fuck on. I want my best friend again, not this whiney, insecure brat. I don’t have any romantic feelings for you, and I’m tired of treating you with kid gloves because you can’t handle the truth. Get a grip and get over it. You either move on, and things go back to normal, or we stop being friends.”
You feel your stomach drop, your throat constricting, air getting caught in your windpipe. You don’t look at him, continuing to dig your fingernails into your skin. He watches you for a moment, noticing the way your chest shakes as you try to keep back the tears. He knew your habits by now, and he noticed the way your hands started to fiddle and pick. You did that when you were trying to distract yourself. You did that when you were upset, hurt.
“Stop that,” He mumbles, reaching out and grabbing your hand.
You pull your hand away and stand up, fists clenching as your chest shakes. You couldn’t break down. Not here, not in front of him. “I should go.”
Rafe reaches out, grabbing your wrist again. He stands up too, using his grip to tug you back towards him. “We need to talk about this. Sit down.”
You pull away again, taking a step back, a soft squeak tumbling out of your mouth as you start to cry.
The squeak causes his stomach to twist. His face falls. “Don’t pull away from me.” He pleads softly, his hand reaching out for you again.
You retreat again, shaking your head as more tears start to fall. Your legs shake, your hands coming up to cover your face.
He grabs your wrist again, gently pulling you into his arms. “Stop it,” he says firmly, pulling you in close to his chest, his arms wrapping tightly around your trembling frame. “Stop.”
You sob into his chest, your hands still covering your face, shoulders shaking violently as you try and take a deep breath.
He stays quiet, one arm wrapped around your waist to hold you firmly against him. His other hand comes up to tangle in your hair, playing with the roots of it as his chin rests on the top of your head. “Stop crying,” He repeats, his voice a bit gentler. “I’m not worth it.”
“Yes you are.” You mumble, wiping your tears with your fingers, palms still pressed against your face, mascara smearing across your cheeks.
“No, I’m not,” He says firmly, his breath fanning over the crown of your head. His fingers tighten slightly in your hair, rubbing slow circles into your scalp. Not to offer comfort. No, he knew that wouldn’t work. But to just keep you where you were, firmly held against his chest. “I’m a disaster. Even after everything, after trying to change, I’m still a disaster.”
“You're not a disaster.” You say, pulling back to look at him.
He stares down at you, his expression hard to read. He has his usual, guarded look on, but the way his hand reaches up to gently wipe away one of your tears gives away the fact that he’s affected. “I am,” He repeats, his voice quiet. “And I won’t ever be the man you think I am.”
You hesitate. “I want the Rafe I’m looking at. Not the picture of you in my head.”
He lets a huff of air out through his nose, his expression softening for the briefest of moments as he looks down at you. You were so beautiful, even when you were crying and on the edge of a breakdown. But he couldn’t allow himself to get caught up in it again, like in high school. He had moved on. At least, in his mind. “You’ll never be satisfied with that. I’m no saint, and I’ll never be the romantic, fairy tale guy you want me to be.”
“I just want--” You try to correct yourself, although you meant the former. “I just wanted to be yours.”
He stiffens for a second, his gaze hardening again as he studies your face. “No,” he mutters, a tinge of something you can’t place in his voice. “You can’t be mine. I’m not yours, and I’ll never be yours. You’re not mine to keep, you’re not the one I want, you’re not the one I’m in love with.”
You sigh, your voice soft. “I know.”
He lets out a breath, the expression on his face pained. He cupped your face, wiping away some of the smeared mascara. “I don’t want to keep hurting you,” He says softly. “I don’t want to keep making you cry. I don’t want to keep disappointing you.”
“I’m hurting myself,” You say. “It’s not your fault. I’m the one who just can’t move on.”
“You’re not the one at fault,” Rafe says, his thumb still wiping at the tear stains on your cheek. “I’m the one who can’t love you the way you want to be loved. And I’ll never be able to. You deserve someone who can, and I want you to find that person.”
You did find that person, the one holding your face and looking at you like you’re his saving light in eternal darkness. You had ignored so many bad omens, hoping that the universe was wrong, that they made a mistake, that your red strings of fate were intertwined in the stars.
But they weren’t.
You swallow hard. “I’m sorry. I’ll try harder. To get over you.”
“Good.” He says, his thumb brushing under your eye one last time, wiping away a tear. His thumb brushes across your cheek, pressing down slightly to feel the softness of your skin. He moves his other hand to your jaw, moving his thumb side to side on your neck, feeling your pulse.
His eyes meet yours before his gaze travels over your face, soaking in every detail of you. They linger on your lips, just for a second too long, and much to his dismay, you notice it. His eyes move back up to look into yours.
Your breath hitches ever so slightly, your lips parting. Rafe purses his lips together slightly, rubbing them together, his eyes looking back down at your mouth. He mumbles your name quietly, his voice soft.
“What?” You ask.
He doesn’t answer.
His eyes are still looking at your mouth. He watches your lips move as you speak, watches how your tongue peeks out of the corner of your mouth ever so slightly.
He can’t think straight. He can’t think at all. His mind has gone fuzzy, and every cell of his body is telling him something he knows he shouldn’t do.
His hand slides from your jaw to the back of your neck, and he pulls you in closer.
He places a kiss to your forehead, his eyes closing.
Your eye twitches, your stomach churning, your face getting hot with shame and embarrassment.
He pulls away, looking down at you. “I’m sorry, alright? Can we just… can we just chill and watch a movie?”
You should say no. You should scream at him, yell at him for manipulating you, for looking at you like that and acting like he was going to kiss you.
But you can’t. You can’t bring yourself to hate him, even after this.
You swallow hard, blinking a few times as you look at the long forgotten pizza box on the coffee table. “Yeah. We can watch a movie.”
He feels relieved. That’s good.
He gives you a small smile, placing a hand on the small of your back and ushering you towards the sofa. He turns you towards the sofa, gesturing for you to sit down, his hand still lingering on your back, the feel of your skin under your sweater making his heart race.
His eyes linger on you for a moment, before he turns to grab the remote off of the coffee table. He sits down next to you, trying to keep a normal distance between the two of you, instead of pressing himself up against your side. He opens the pizza box as he opens Hulu, handing you a slice.
You take it, your fingers and hands numb and tingling as you try to suppress the bile in your throat.
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The Outer Banks is truly paradise on Earth.
Although The Boneyard isn’t the nicest beach on the island, it has a few secluded spots that still manage to take your breath away. You find your favourite spot easily, a small sandbank by the entrance to a long-forgotten cove. It was once filled with rumours of pirates and treasures, but now it’s full of seaweed.
You settle into the sand, holding your sandals in your hands, arms draped over your knees. You watch the sunset pink and orange streaking across the sky, listening to the soft crashing of the waves and the distant call of a seagull. The wind gently pulls through your hair, and you push some behind your ears, closing your eyes as you feel the sun on your face.
It’s peaceful.
Another soft breeze brushes over you, carrying with it the scent of weed, an uncommon occurrence for this particular spot. Not a lot of other people on the island knew of your spot, mainly just Rafe and Sarah.
You turn your gaze to your left, finding a familiar figure sitting about a yard away from you.
JJ smiles, head tilted to the side, a lit joint between his fingers. “Hey.”
“Hey.” You say, smiling softly. You had always had a little soft spot for JJ, considering him to be one of the few Pogues you could actually stand, maybe other than Kiara.
JJ takes a hit of the joint, looking out over the ocean, the sun starting to descend towards the horizon. He sighs contently before turning to look at you again, raising his eyebrows as he studies you. “What’re doing out here all alone?”
“Just watching the sunset.” You say. You pat the sand next to you, inviting him to take a seat.
“Yeah? Me too,” He says, moving closer to take a seat next to you. He stretches out his legs, leaning back onto his hands and resting his head against the sand. He takes another hit from the joint, sighing out the smoke before offering it to you. “Want a hit?”
You nod, taking it between your thumb and pointer finger. You take a deep hit, sucking in the smoke and blowing it out in a thick white cloud. You hold it out towards him. “Thanks.”
He takes it from you, his fingers brushing against yours. “Anytime,” He says, leaning back. He watches you for a moment, his gaze lingering on your face. The sun is setting in front of you, casting a warm, orange glow illuminating you that catches on your hair. He can’t help but admire the way the sunset looks against your figure, casting a glowing haze around you. His gaze softens in the presence of your soft glow. “You look pretty tonight.”
You smile softly, feeling your face get warm. “Thanks, JJ. So do you.”
He smiles back, his eyes locking with yours. It’s just the two of you out here, and JJ likes it that way. Just you and him sitting alone on the beach, watching the sunset. “Just pretty?” He asks, raising an eyebrow at you.
“Handsome.” You add.
He’s silent for a moment, staring back at you. He lets out a breath through his nose, trying to hide the grin on his face as his cheeks turn a deeper shade of pink, but it’s still clear on his face. “Damn right, I am.” He mutters. The two of you just stare at each other for a minute, the quiet sounds of the ocean in front of you and the distant sound of a fish jumping, trying to catch a bug flying across the water.
You smile at him again, looking back over the water.
JJ studies your profile for a moment, taking a hit off of his joint before passing it back to you, still staring at you. His eyes linger on your eyes, before slowly dropping down to your lips. He watches you, the soft expression on your face and how your hair blows in the wind. He’s always liked the way you look when you’re relaxed. You always look pretty, but you really look beautiful when you’re relaxed, when there’s no stress or worry in your mind.
He studies your face, committing every detail to memory. He sits up straighter, placing the joint back in his mouth. He hesitates before throwing one arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to his side. You oblige, slotting yourself against him, leaning your head against his shoulder.
He smiles to himself, feeling you move closer. His arm tightens around you, fingers absentmindedly tracing circles into your shoulder. He watches the sun over the ocean, noticing how the light dances over the rippling water. He takes the joint from his mouth once again, taking a hit. He holds it in his lungs for a second, before leaning forward slightly, his gaze shifting down to your cheek. He lets out a cloud of smoke from his mouth, the smoke hovering in the air between the two of you.
You take the joint from him and take a hit before handing it back, holding it in your lungs before exhaling slowly. You look up at him, watching as he puts the joint in his mouth as he shifts in the sand. You smile softly again, admiring the way his eyes shine in the pink and orange hues of the setting sun.
Sometimes the one you want is not the one you need.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧
part three?
★taglist: @ietss, @momoewn, @blairsblg, @teenwolfbitches28, @dasia21, @drewsphswife, @gilwm, @watchmerora, @odairtrqsh, @wearemadeofstardust0, @rafesbabygirlx, @slumnit, @babygirlwilly, @rafeyswife, @maybanksgirl69, @evermorx89, @ivy-34, @marlenee3e, @koibleufish, @user381963, @monkey-d-juliana, @ursogorgeous1313, @drewstarkeysstuff, @ts1mp0ne, @kayreblogs, @rafeycameronsgf, @lulbabes, @karmasloverrr, @greyswaren, @tini5, @witchmoon10, @xcinnamonmalfoyx, @arivh, @devils-blackrose, @goldsainz, @vonhoe, @exhaustedbutelated, @enjoymyloves, @rinasauruss, @danikasthings, @danicl25, @outlawedmando, @lucifersie, @wtfisastiles, @maybankslover (italics means i couldn’t tag you!)
join my permanent obx taglist here!
#keikiwrites#f!reader#obx#obx fic#rafe cameron#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe x reader#rafe fic#rafe angst#rafe fanfiction#obx rafe#obx rafe cameron#obx angst#rafe obx#rafe cameron obx#rafe cameron x reader#outer banks#outer banks rafe#outer banks angst#rafe cameron angst
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𝔒𝔣𝔣 𝔗𝔬𝔭𝔦𝔠
synopsis: y/n is an up and coming influencer, who has established her own with thriving youtube channel and podcast. when she releases a new episode with her new co-host and special guests, things get messy.
a rafe cameron smau! |part eight| part nine |part ten|
a/n: This is a long one for you guys :) thank you to @ivysprophecy @kimoralov3 for letting me annoy the shit out of you as i bounce ideas off of y'all.
Off Topic Official Transcript
12:30
Cleo: so Rafe, you did a recent shoot with loewe.
Y/n: [you bite your lip subtly] oh my god yeah, i remember hearing Sarah talk about it. you looked really good.
Rafe: oh yeah? [he raises his eyebrow] thank you. it was really fun, the crew and photographer were great. i’ve always wanted to do a shoot with them and i was so grateful when i got the chance.
Rafe: i know it’s yalls’ podcast but if you could work with any brand, which would it be?
Cleo: easy, easy man. either gucci or miu miu.
Y/n: i think for me it would probably be ysl or prada.
Rafe: yeah, you’d be a prada girl? [he asks cockily]
Y/n: yeah, haven’t you seen me rock a pair of prada sunnies. i always serve face. [you smile and then give a model face to him and cleo]
Cleo: that is correct. my girl always looks good, especially in prada.
Rafe: oh, i have no doubt. [he smiles at you brightly]
26:45
Y/n: [laughing at something Rafe said before hand]
Cleo:[smirks] so rafe, we have this recurring segment of this show called “be mine” and it’s where we ask the guest, what’s their ideal type or what they are looking for in a relationship.
Y/n: [stops laughing and is subtly looking at Cleo with bewilderment]
Cleo: and since we don’t have more than one guest today, y/n will share with you!
Y/n: [looks at Cleo with a look of confusion] i will?
Cleo:[gives her look]
Y/n: i guess i will be today.
Rafe: [chuckles at your reaction] i have only been in two really serious relationships and they were both totally different experiences. the first person i'm really good friends with still but that relationship taught me all the things i did want like someone adventurous, kind, and someone who can communicate. in this life we live in the media. i never wanna be the last person to know something about my partner. i think from my last relationship we were very private and i didn’t really mind it but sometimes i wanted to share cute photos of them… [he shifts in the chair and manspreads a bit]
Cleo: [she looks at you and gives you a smirk at the mention at photography]
Rafe (continued): especially since i really like film photography and really i couldn’t share my photos, so i wanna find someone who's comfortable with that for sure. and by no means do i think i am perfect, i think i got somethings to work on but those are just somethings that are really important to me. [he finishes speaking and looks at you for your reaction.]
Cleo: [is smirking in her seat] damn model boy knows what he wants.
Rafe: [laughs] sometimes if you want something you just gotta put it out there. [he shrugs and smirks]
Cleo: ya know y/n here loves film photography? has a whole account dedicated to it too.
Y/n: [your eyes blunge out hoping she’d be quiet] yeah, i do but it’s nothing.
Rafe: [smirks and leans forward and places his elbow on the chair arm and places his chin on his knuckles] it’s not, nothing. it’s cute, sweetheart. [he gives you a kind smile] so, what are you looking for? [he points with his chin to you]
Y/n: um… i agree with a lot of what race has to say. i especially feel the same about communication, in my last relationship there was a really big lack of it and that along with cheating was the end of our relationship.
Rafe: [frowns at the mention that you have been cheated on]
Y/n: So now i think i need someone who is willing to take things slowly and understand that it takes me a second to trust their intentions. but i also really want someone who likes to travel because i love traveling and seeing new places. also my friends have to give the stamp of approval because they are everything to me. [you smile at cleo]
Y/n: but my ideal type, i don’t know, tall, kind, intelligent, passionate, empathetic, and i don’t think it would hurt anyone if he was pretty on the eyes either.[you smile widely]
Rafe: i think it's really raw and real of you to talk about trust in that way because i feel the same way.
Cleo: you two have a lot in common huh?
y/n's phone
taglist: @ivysprophecy @kimoralov3 @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @charli123456789 @wearemadeofstardust0 @frankoceanluvr11 1 @harrys-housewife @urbrunettebombshell @mayhapsnini i @psychicnatural @aariahnaa @rafeycameronsgf @laniirackssss @cl4uus @honk4emoboyz
#lex creates <3#lex writes <3#divider was made by strangergraphics-archive#outerbanks au#outer banks#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron#rafe x reader#rafe obx#rafe outer banks#rafe Cameron smau#rafe cameron au#social media au#rafe cameron x fem!reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe x you#rafe imagine#rafe cameron social media au#obx au#obx smau#rafer cameron smau#outerbanks#outerbranks smau#outer banks fic#outer banks fanfiction#smau#rafe smau
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NSFW ALPHABET [ simon ‘ghost’ riley]
Just my opinion based on how Simon comes across in the games. It was quite fun to interpret it. Hope I didn’t do too bad of a job 🤞
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Ghost would be more closed off to a one night stand, so it’s lucky if you even get his name let alone for him to stay after the sex.
As for in a relationship, he cares so deeply that if he’s jackhammered you he’ll find himself gently massaging your sore pussy- you did take him ‘so well’ after all (his words)
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
He used to hate his arms, all the scars he had endured but he paid good, well earned money on his sleeve tattoos. And with encouragement from his partner- he likes them.
As for you, your face. He rarely gets to see all of his own, so seeing your face in any sense is a blessing. For intimacy it’s a luxury to see your brows screw up and lips parted. He knows you don’t have the same benefit of seeing his ALL the time.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
He likes the idea of claiming you by coming inside but the idea of children in a world like this… it scares him. Even if you’re on birth control… too much of a risk.
Simon loves seeing you on your knees, lips pink and raw after finishing down your throat. And you better be swallowing- he doesn’t like tryna get stains out of the bedsheets.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Wants to fuck you in close quarters to the rest of 141, and use his balaclava as a gag to shut you up.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Simon is said to be in his earlier to mid-30s and doesn’t have as much experience as the others but you’ve never complained about his skill before. He’s a quick learner.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
ADVANCED MISSIONARY; As said before, he loves your face. So something front facing but spicier than missionary- legs on his shoulders… laid flat on the edge of the kitchen table with him stood ploughing into you.
AGAINST THE WALL: Simon loves knowing it’s all him giving you pleasure- you clung to him for dear life. Nails cutting into him and limp from the waist down, he’s not shy when it comes to pain… not that kind anyway.
DOGGY: The only exception to him not facing you is when you’ve been teasing him all day long. He loves the roughness and how much of you he can feel at that angle. Intoxicating.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Simon goes Ghost mode during sex. It’s a scale of kinda serious to don’t talk kind of serious. Depends on how long he’s gone without it. If he’s on leave and it’s on the couch during movie night and you clash teeth- he’s so serious about it but when you start laughing, his eyes go puppy dog and he joins you in hysterics.
He can be very goofy so he has that side when his guard is down.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
He likes to keep in tidy down there, not completely shaven but nothing to stop you from giving him sloppy head.
He has light eyelashes but the hair is so short you can barely see the true colour - a blondish brown colour.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Like most things with Simon, he truly depends on what mood you catch him in. He’s a chill guy, he’s the type to get you gifts without making a big deal about it.
He just wants your sole undivided attention, that’s romance in his eyes. Having a connection with you, spending time with you. So he’s kissing up your body, and eating you out like there’s no tomorrow without expecting you to return the favour.
Simon is all about eye contact, kissing and making you feel special in the moment. So I guess you could call him a pinch romantic.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Being away from you is a death sentence, but the mission is work. That doesn’t mean LT doesn’t jack off, to images of you riding him or panting beneath him, when he’s in the shower.
Off duty he has you, he doesn’t need to jack off.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
BONDAGE: Hands behind your back, tied with his belt. Or he doesn’t mind, he knows how to break out of ties anyway.
VOYEURISM: Loves watching you masturbate, revels in it because he knows he’ll have you coming on his cock in the next few minutes.
DOMINANCE: Not in an unhealthy way, he’s a BIG guy (and he uses it to his advantage). Caging you in and hitching you up at his waist, repeating the words, “Who do you belong to?” “Who makes you feel so good?”
And the answer every single time is ‘you, Si.’
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Nowhere public, there’s a reason he wears a mask in public let alone being caught with his dick out.
His favourite may be a wall, especially if Soap is staying in the guest room… because the master bedroom is beside it. Ghost is territorial like that, you’re his.
The bed is too comfortable for him when he’s initially back. Simon will hold your hips and watch you bounce on his dick while his back is on the fluffy carpet. Carpet burns were worth it.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Kissing his tattoos- man this guy gets pent up when you do that. All the way up his arm, through to his chest. Do this and you will find his trousers tented and tight.
Ghost is very susceptible to touch, he spends so much time trying not to get hit by stray bullets or by fists that when he lets his guard down- he really gets turned on by crotch palming or kissing. Makeout sessions quickly become a night long sex fest.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Hates being blindfolded, absolutely despises it. Even when relaxed it’s difficult for Ghost to just be Simon. He likes being able to see you, his PTSD comes in play there.
Also, another no no, is you wearing a skull mask or himself wearing it in the bedroom. When he’s at home, he doesn’t even want to remember what happened in the field. Let alone bring it into the most vulnerable position he’s gonna be in. He may even draw the line at face coverings in general.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
As said before, he couldn’t care less if he receives. Only that he makes you cum at least once.
Don’t mistake that for him not liking blowjobs, he loves it- again, a touch thing but he would rather watching you come undone.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Like a lot of things with Simon, it depends on his mood and it you can handle it at the time.
Simon is a kinda soft dom because he cares about his significant other and doesn’t want to hurt you but if you can take it… you’d better find something to hold onto. Legs and abdominal muscles galore- he is a tyrant if you wish it.
But he doesn’t need to do that ALL the time, he can do soft and gentle just as well. Deep, powerful thrusts… letting you adjust after a couple of rounds.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
If you’ve been teasing him, he will pull you into a restroom and have you drooling and seeing stars.
He prefers to have his time with you, to get you well adjusted for his size by fingering and then eating you out. Dragging out orgasm after orgasm to get you to relax.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
He doesn’t normally like fucking in public, but as said before- if you touch him in the right places and tell him how hot you are for him… let’s say he will find a dressing room or bathroom stall (within reason) to stop his hardness.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Have you seen this man? 6’5” and muscles for days… Simon has a LOT of stamina.
The first week he gets home you’re lucky when he’s not inside of you. He can go multiple times a day for an average of two hour sessions. He likes to take his time with you.
Quickies wise about 6 rounds in a row.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Simon’s not a fan of toys. Doesn’t own any and doesn’t plan on buying. He’s sure in his abilities and when you a moaning mess impaled on his cock- he’d say you’re quite satisfied.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Edges you from time to time and make you beg for some release. But that’s only when he’s in one of his sarcastic moods- mostly after he’s hung out with Soap.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Not obnoxiously loud, but not quiet. His voices get a bit higher or goes lower when he says your name. Holding your hair while you’re on your knees, choking on his cock. It’s kind of addictive.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Your smell. Purposefully buries his nose in the crux of your shoulder in general. Especially when so close to his release- you’ve been squeezing his size continuously for the past five minutes and the scent of you, not your perfume or shampoo, can toss him off that cliff.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Above average at about 7.5 inches, but thick. No wonder he indulges in extensive foreplay before fucking you. He’s the perfect size, nothing too extreme but hits the correct spots.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
He’s touch starved on missions and doesn’t fancy asking the boys for that, so he’s pretty horny. You don’t help dressing all pretty in white lingerie the day he gets back.
On a scale of 0-10, Simon is an 8-10.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Simon finds it difficult to sleep in general, only after a day’s fuck fest is he worn out enough to sleep soundly. Next to his partner.
#simon riley x you#simon riley smut#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon ghost x you#ghost cod#ghost#ghost x reader#cod smut#cod x reader#cod modern warfare#cod#smut#smut alphabet
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theorising : us in parallel worlds
୨୧ ; you and jake sim are in completely different orbits! how did you defy the laws of physics and end up with him?
pairing! physicalsciencesmajor!jake x historymajor!reader | wc. 0.8k | warnings: possibly incorrect science and uni terms, attempted humour, probably cringe EN-
🖇️ : jake version is out now!! this was so cute to write and the reader is so me i can’t do maths and physics either ㅠㅠ need jake to tutor me frfr
so you see
you’ve never been maths and science smart
you’ve always been better at the humanities subjects and the languages, even from middle school
you are the history, geography and literature ACE.
well, jake’s the opposite
he devours maths equations and quantum physics papers for breakfast and proceeds to choke over basic history — more under cut!!
“when did the first world war end?”
“uh, i dunno. BUT did you know something can be a wave and a particle at once?”
jake was the kid that memorised the digits of pi FOR FUN.
he’s the guy who understood organic chemistry and quantum physics when he was nine
like you didn’t even have a consciousness when you were nine how tf was jake understanding quantum physics
of course jake’s a physical science and engineering major
you meet him at uni in your history department because he was waiting for his friend to come out of lecture
and DAMN he’s a lil cutie
you just watched him leaning on the hallway wall whilst you were sitting on that one random really comfortable sofa in the corner
you were NOT expecting him to suddenly stroll over to you
like why is that guy walking over to the sofa WHY IS HE LOOKING AT YOU
he's just here to ask you where the hell the lecture hall for the class that teaches history about people who died a lightyear before is
and you’re just like “oh, you mean ancient history? it’s right over there, room 204.”
he shoots you the most beautiful smile you've ever seen and says "thanks" before leaving
you're just kind of sitting there staring at his retreating figure
WHY IS HE SO SO CUTE????
it might not show but jake's also silently thinking about that
how did he not notice someone like you sooner?
like you're perfect it doesn't matter that the campus is huge and you two are different majors HOW HAS HE NEVER NOTICED YOU
you never even got to know that guy's name and you're scared that you won't ever see him again
you're just mentally kicking yourself for not asking for his name (and number)
you only manage to find him through intensive, if not obsessive internet research with your best friend
you learn that this cute guy's name is jake sim and that he's double majoring in physical sciences and engineering bc he's a lil crazy
how is his skin glowing with that kind of schedule
you always look for him in the university hallways YOU EVEN GO TO THE SCIENCES DEPARTMENT
but you never find him (it's because jake's poking his nose into every history lecture hall instead of being in his department trying to get a glimpse of you)
like he even goes to the philosophy lecture halls bc you sometimes go to them for fun
it’s giving zeno’s paradox omfg ITS GIVING PAULI EXCLUSION PRINCIPLE (except yall aren’t an electron)
but in one of your university's annual festivals you get to see him again!!
you were just in line to buy some lemonade with your friend when he lines up behind you
he recognises you straight away and gives you that smile that's been embedded in your memory for the past month and says a little hello
your friend just leaves because she's been getting daily updates about this guy named jake sim with pictures included
you're just left alone with him and you're so busy staring at him that you don't hear the lemonade stand cashier ask what you want to order
jake buys you a cup of lemonade SUCH A GENTLEMAN
you two have so much fun together at the festival
jake evens wins you a plushie with the darts at one of the stalls
"how're you so good at that? those games are designed to make you lose."
"you just need to understand the science behind it."
turns out jake is really easygoing which you didn't think was possible from an engineering major
you two make plans to meet up together and study at the science department library
tell me why the science library is so much better than the one you go to.
the sofas are so much more nap friendly and it just looks prettier yk
jake helps you with your maths and science studies
you thought you would be free of maths and science once you graduate from high school but turns out basic classes are in the core curriculum
it was a very big disappointment when you found out WDYM YOU STILL HAVE TO DO CALCULUS
you barely managed to do long divisions in primary, you can't do this shit anymore
it's okay, not only is jake really really smart, he's also really really patient
in return, you help jake boost his shitty core humanities grade
he's been barely scraping by
"y/n, i swear, i can memorise dates and all that stuff but i can't with the essays."
jake confesses to you during one of your little study sessions
he sends you a cute heart on the desmos graphing calculator (such a nerd omg)
you two are THE power couple
you get As in your maths and science now and the professor doesn't give you dirty looks anymore
jake managed to boost his grade as well DREAM COUPLE FRFR
heeseung jay sunghoon sunoo jungwon ni-ki
✉️: @icyy-hoon
#엔하이픈#제이크#enhypen#enha#enhypen jake#jake#enhypen fic#enhypen x reader#enhypen fluff#enhypen soft hours#enhypen drabbles#enhypen scenarios#enhypen headcanons#enhypen thoughts#enhypen smau#jake fic#jake fluff#jake smau#jake soft hours#jake fanfic#jake drabbles#jake imagines#jake scenarios#jake headcanons#heeseung#jay#sunghoon#sunoo#jungwon#ni-ki
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heyyy could u write a one shot of kwon x reader where they weren't able to see each other for months (reader travelled to a different country and he had to go to the tournament) but reader finally had the chance to go to the sekai taikai and surprises him? maybe suggestive ;) But fluff is ok too, thank youn!
UNSPOKEN DESIRES || kwon jae-sung
a/n: LMAOOO SNEAKY ANON but yk what ill do it (hes too fine). crazy how i wrote the bf hcs of him yesterday and now i got 3 reqs lmao, not complaining tho. also i want to find good icons to put on my kwon reqs but I CANT CHOOSE,,
warnings; SUGGESTIVE, cursing (only like..once), uhh thats all i think
Kwon stood up along with the rest of the Cobra Kai members, barely paying attention to the announcements being said at the moment— too deep in thought— thoughts of you.
The past few months were hard. Not just for him, for you too. You had to travel to another country for a while due to a family emergency regarding a very ill relative. Although you both facetimed and texted everyday, the distance was still there. It wasn’t the same.
The Sekai Taikai was able to get Kwon to focus on the tournament, but even so it wasn’t enough. His mind kept drifting off to you. He never thought your absence would affect him that much, but ever since you told him you had to stay there longer, he felt the ache in his chest deepen with each passing day. He probably wouldn’t say it out loud, but he missed you. A lot.
As everyone was allowed to leave, Kwon let out a sigh, head tilted a bit low as he walked with the rest of his dojo. What was up with him? He won every match he had, why did it not fuel him up with satisfaction anymore? Even messing around with other dojos wasn’t becoming as fun. It frustrated him.
“Hey, wanna go with us to a bar nearby later?” Yoon went up to him, slightly nudging his shoulder with his elbow.
Kwon snapped out of his thoughts, and stopped walking. Maybe it wasn’t a bad idea, he could forget about the emptiness in his heart. “..Sure, why not. I could use some distraction.” He replied. Without saying anything else, he walked away.
· · ·
You let out a sigh of relief after managing to get inside the building where the tournament was being held. You may or may not have lied your way in by saying you were one of Cobra Kai’s backups and Sensei Kim requested you come here as an emergency.
Those at the desk were a bit skeptical, but thankfully didn’t question any further and let you pass.
You walked past the big hallways, trying to think where the rooms were, thinking he was probably resting. You couldn’t wait to see him again— his eyes, his hair, that stupid yet charming smirk he had on his face.
Suddenly, you passed by a teenage guy scrolling through his phone. Maybe he knew Kwon, it was worth asking.
“Uh..excuse me,” You started, a bit nervous as you walked up to him. “Do you know the room number Kwon Jae-Sung is staying in?”
Demetri looked up, an eyebrow raised at the..random question. Out of all the questions you could have asked, this one didn’t cross his mind. He glanced around the room, noticing how it was only you and him. “I don’t think..I can give out that information.” He replied.
“Oh, no. It’s not like that—” You said quickly. “I’m his partner. I wanted to see if he’s okay.”
“Partner?” Demetri repeated. “As in, sparring partner? Then you should kn—”
“No!” You exclaimed, interrupting him. You cleared your throat before continuing, “I meant..I’m his partner..romantically.”
“Oh. That makes sense.” Demetri said, before nodding slightly. He leaned in to whisper the room number, then sat back down. “I’m sure he’s doing very fine.. but that’s the number.”
“Thank you, I appreciate it.” Relief washed over you, as you quickly left, going to the elevators.
Demetri watched as you left, before his eyes widened. “Wait. What if they’re not his partner?”
· · ·
Kwon got out of the elevator, laughing along with his team members who were all drunk and held onto each other for support.
Being at the bar did help him be distracted for a while, drinking along while the rest were doing bets on who could drink the most without getting drunk at all.
“Hey, why don’t we go out again for some more fun? It isn’t too late,” One of them suggested.
“Not a bad idea. Let’s go,— Kwon, you comin’?”
“Nah, I’m good. You guys go ahead.” He said. The others left, leaving him alone.
He opened the door to his room, shutting it behind him and turned on the lock. Walking over to his bed, he began to take off his shirt and draped a towel around his waist. Just as he was going to enter the shower, a finger tapped on his shoulder.
As he turned around, he was taken by surprise.
You were standing there, with a mischievous smile.
How did you get in his room? Was he dreaming? Was he too tired after training? Did he drink too much? Did he—
“I got you~!” You said with a chuckle.
He couldn’t feel his heartbeat— he couldn’t believe it. You were here, in front of him. After months of longing, of only talking through a screen, you were standing right there, your bodies’ mere inches away from the other. Without thinking, he closed the distance between you two, pulling you into his arms.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” he mumbled into your hair, his fingers tracing the curve of your back, feeling the warmth of your body against his.
You laughed softly, pulling away slightly to meet his gaze, “I thought I’d surprise you.”
“Yeah..and you did,” He replied. “but now that you’re here..” His eyes trailed over your body up and down, voice low. The tension built between you both was obvious, the look in his eyes said it.
His lips twitched into a smirk, pulling you close to him again, “Tell me my love, did you miss me a lot?” He asked, in a teasing yet flirtatious tone.
“Maybe, who knows?” you mumbled, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, “Want to find out?”
Kwon didn’t reply, his lips crashing on yours as his hands instinctively held onto your waist. The kiss deepened, hinting at the need that every inch of his body begged for. It was obvious to you—he wanted more.
Your fingers went up his chest, your other hand pulling him even closer to you–if that was possible.
He pulled away for a second, as your eyes met. His dark eyes were full of lust, but also shone with a hint of mischief. Before you knew it, Kwon leaned in again, kissing your jaw and trailing down to your collarbone. Removing a hand that was on your hip, he held onto your leg, lifting it up as you curled it around his waist.
Kwon kept kissing your body, the sounds that left your lips only fueling his desire. He had your back pressed against the wall, and began to take off your shirt.
“Fuck..” He silently cursed to himself as he looked up to see your expression— cheeks red as you tried to steady your breathing.
“Looking like a mess, how cute. And just for me, right?”
You nodded frantically, wanting him to stop teasing and continue.
Knowing you were desperate, Kwon chuckled. “Don’t worry love, after so many months apart, I’m not done with you just yet.”
HELP I FEEL SO EMBARRASSED I FEEL LIKE I DID SO BAD ON THIS 💀 well it was definitely interesting to do lol..time to work on those other requests now
#cobra kai#kwon x reader#kwon jae sung x reader#kwon jae sung#uh..would it count as a bit of smut lmao#kwon jae sung x female reader#kwon jae sung x male reader#ck#kwon jae sung x gn! reader#gotta give the bros some fics too#SUGGESTIVE SUGGESTIVE SUGGESTIVE ALERT#once again#suggestive#oneshot#meracyn#idk how i feel abt this lmao#THE TITLE SOUNDS SO SMUTTY#might re edit 💀
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I DON'T WANT YOU LIKE A BEST FRIEND───JOE BURROW
request: Can you write a joe burrow one shot about so high school 🥰🥰 Or if you’ve already done that, then the song dress
ev's notes: this was supposed to be a blurb. keyword: supposed to. i got a bit carried away, but how can you not when it comes to taylor? also, we all love LSU joe
The first time you saw Joe Burrow, he was standing on the edge of a practice field, helmet in hand, a picture of quiet confidence. His buzzcut was sharp enough to catch the late Louisiana sun, and you remember thinking he looked like the kind of guy who had his entire life planned out. It was almost intimidating how effortless he made everything seem—throwing perfect spirals, cracking jokes in the locker room, balancing the weight of a team on his shoulders. But then, somehow, you found yourself next to him during a random group project in Sports Management 201, and everything changed.
You didn’t become best friends overnight. Joe wasn’t exactly the “overshare everything in one go” type, and you, well, you had walls of your own. But there was an ease between you, the kind that turned study sessions into late-night deep dives about life and childhood and everything in between. By the time sophomore year rolled around, you were inseparable. You’d sit on the floor of his apartment during game weekends, surrounded by a haze of pizza boxes and team gear, and think, This is it. This is my person.
But somewhere along the way, the easy edges of your friendship began to blur. Maybe it was the way Joe looked at you during one of those low-stakes nights, his gaze lingering just a little too long. Or maybe it was the time you patched him up after a particularly brutal hit on the field—his voice low and rough as he muttered, “What would I do without you?” Either way, the shift was small but seismic, like an earthquake rumbling beneath your feet before you even realized it was happening.
You couldn’t pinpoint when you started noticing the details. The golden flecks in his otherwise blue eyes, the way his laugh hitched just slightly when he found something truly funny, or the way his voice softened when he said your name. You tried to ignore it at first, chalking it up to some misplaced admiration for your best friend, but the feelings were stubborn, refusing to be tucked away neatly. They buzzed under your skin, electric and impossible to ignore, leaving you breathless whenever he was near.
And then there was the dress. A stupid, impulsive decision born out of frustration and hope, hanging in your closet like a secret you weren’t ready to admit. You’d told yourself you bought it because you deserved something new, something fun. But deep down, you knew the truth.
You weren’t supposed to want him like this. You were supposed to be his confidante, his teammate, his best friend. But every lingering glance, every accidental brush of hands, every inside joke that felt too personal—it all built up, layering itself into something you couldn’t unravel even if you tried. And now, sitting in the dim glow of your shared favorite bar, watching him laugh at something trivial, you wonder if he feels it too.
If he notices the way you can’t quite meet his eyes for too long. If he knows that every smile he sends your way makes your chest tighten. If he realizes that every secret moment you’ve shared has carved itself into your memory like a golden tattoo you’ll never erase.
You don’t want him like a best friend. Not anymore.
The bass from the speakers thrums through the walls of the house, rattling the beer bottles on every flat surface. The air smells like spilled alcohol, cheap cologne, and too many bodies crammed into one space. It's chaos, but the best kind, the kind you’ve come to associate with game days at LSU—sweaty, celebratory, and electric. Tonight, the Tigers pulled off a win that had everyone on their feet, screaming until their voices cracked, and the party is nothing short of a victory lap.
You’re deep in a circle of friends, the buzz of alcohol warming your veins and making you laugh harder than you have in weeks. The strain of classes, late nights, and endless football schedules has melted away, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you let yourself relax. Someone hands you a drink—something neon and probably terrible—but you take it anyway, raising it in a toast to nothing and everything. It feels good to let loose, to drown out the noise in your head with the noise of the crowd.
And then you see him.
Joe is across the room, leaning casually against the kitchen counter like he owns the place. His LSU cap is turned backward, and his smile is as easy and devastating as ever. You can tell he’s in his element, surrounded by teammates and admirers, his laugh cutting through the din of the party. You feel it in your chest like a physical thing, a pull you’ve never been able to explain but have stopped trying to fight.
But it’s not just Joe that catches your attention. It’s the girl next to him.
She’s gorgeous, the kind of gorgeous that turns heads and stops conversations. She’s leaning in close, her perfectly manicured hand resting on his arm, saying something that makes him laugh. Not just any laugh—the kind that crinkles the corners of his eyes, the kind you thought was reserved for the two of you. Your stomach twists, sharp and sudden, like you’ve just swallowed something bitter.
You try to look away, to focus on anything else—the half-empty drinks in front of you, the sticky floor beneath your shoes, the laughter of your friends—but your gaze keeps drifting back, helplessly tethered to the sight of them. She’s laughing now, tossing her hair over her shoulder, and Joe’s watching her like she’s the only person in the room.
The nausea hits you like a wave. It’s not subtle, not something you can breathe through and ignore. It rises quickly, making your throat tighten and your head spin. You set your drink down on the nearest surface, ignoring the shouts of your friends as you mumble something about needing a break.
The hallway to the bathroom feels like a mile long, each step heavy and unsteady. The crowd thins as you move away from the main party, the noise dulling to a low hum. You push open the bathroom door and lock it behind you, gripping the sink to steady yourself. The fluorescent light overhead is harsh, making everything feel too bright, too real.
You glance up at the mirror, and there it is: the blue dress.
You bought it on a whim, a little too expensive for your budget but too perfect to leave behind. Joe had told you once, in passing, that blue was your color. It had been a throwaway comment, something he probably didn’t even remember, but it had stuck with you. When you saw the dress, you thought of him, of the way his eyes softened when he looked at you, of the way he said your name like it was something special. You’d wanted to impress him, to feel like you could belong in the world he so effortlessly ruled.
Now, staring at your reflection, the dress feels like a cruel joke. The silky fabric clings to you in all the right places, the color vibrant against your skin, but it doesn’t matter. Not when Joe is out there, smiling at someone else like she’s the only thing that matters.
Your hands grip the edge of the sink, knuckles turning white. The nausea is still there, but now it’s tangled with something else—anger, humiliation, heartbreak. It’s overwhelming, and for a moment, you think you might actually cry. But you don’t. You can’t. Not here, not now.
You take a shaky breath, forcing yourself to stand up straighter. The dress still looks good, you think, even if it feels tainted now. You smooth the fabric down with trembling hands, telling yourself that it doesn’t matter, that Joe doesn’t matter. But deep down, you know it’s a lie.
He’s always mattered.
You take another deep breath, the kind that feels like it’s dragging through every nerve in your body, and push yourself away from the sink. The girl in the mirror stares back at you, her lips pressed into a determined line, her eyes just a little glassy. Maybe from the drink. Maybe not. Either way, you’re done hiding in this bathroom like a cliché in some bad movie.
Joe can talk to whoever he wants. He’s not yours. He never has been. But you? You’re not going to let one moment ruin your night. Not when the music is still pumping, your friends are still laughing, and—let’s be honest—you’re in a frat house. There are plenty of boys here who would love to talk to a girl like you, especially in this dress.
A smile tugs at the corner of your lips, small but defiant, as you fix your hair and smooth your dress one last time. If Joe wants to waste his night with someone else, fine. You have no shortage of options.
The noise of the party hits you the moment you step back into the hallway, a tidal wave of music and laughter and the unmistakable sound of someone shouting “chug, chug, chug!” You weave your way through the crowd, ignoring the tightness in your chest when you pass the kitchen and see him still standing there, leaning closer to that girl. Instead, you head straight for the living room, where the crowd is thick, the lights are dim, and the music feels like it’s coming from inside your chest.
You position yourself near the edge of the dance floor, close enough to seem approachable but not so close that you’re desperate. It doesn’t take long. It never does at a frat party, especially when you’re wearing a dress like this one.
The first guy approaches within minutes. He’s tall, broad-shouldered, and definitely a little drunk. His grin is lopsided as he leans in, yelling over the music. “Hey! You’re way too cute to be standing here by yourself. What’s your name?”
You force a smile, polite but not overly enthusiastic. “Thanks. I’m just waiting for my friends.”
He doesn’t take the hint. “Well, they’re not here right now, are they?” He takes a step closer, the smell of beer and sweat rolling off him in waves. “Lucky me.”
You laugh awkwardly, trying to keep some space between you. He’s not bad-looking, you’ll give him that, but there’s something about the way his eyes linger on you that makes your skin crawl. It’s like he’s not looking at you, but at the dress, the shape of your body, the idea of what you might let him get away with. It’s unsettling, and the longer he talks, the more you want to disappear.
“So,” he says, leaning in even closer, “you here with anyone? Or are you single tonight?”
You hesitate, the words catching in your throat. Normally, you’d have brushed this guy off by now, forced a polite smile and ducked away before things got too awkward. But tonight isn’t normal. Tonight, you’re wearing this stupid blue dress for a boy who doesn’t even notice you’re alive, who’s too busy laughing with someone else to care that you’re here, trying not to drown in your feelings. And maybe it’s the alcohol humming in your veins, or maybe it’s the weight of everything pressing down on your chest, but you don’t brush him off.
Instead, you tilt your head and smile, the kind of smile you’ve never given to anyone but Joe. “Single.”
His grin widens, and he takes another step closer, his hand finding your waist like it’s the most natural thing in the world. It feels wrong and right all at once—wrong because he’s not Joe, but right because at least someone is looking at you like you matter. His voice is low, almost a murmur now. “Lucky me.”
You laugh, a sound that feels foreign to your own ears, and let him guide you further into the crowd, where the music is loud enough to drown out your thoughts. His hands are confident but not pushy, and when he leans down, his lips brushing against yours, you don’t stop him.
You kiss him back. At first, it’s awkward, more about the motion than any real feeling, but as the seconds pass, you give in, letting the alcohol and the haze of the moment carry you. His hands slide down to your hips, pulling you closer, and you let him. You let him because it’s easier than admitting that the only person you really want to be kissing doesn’t want you back.
You’re not sure how long it lasts—minutes, maybe hours—but the world blurs into a mess of noise and heat, and you lose yourself in it. You don’t notice the weight of another gaze until it’s too late.
“[Your Name].”
Your name isn’t loud, but it cuts through everything like a knife. The music, the chatter, the blood pounding in your ears—all of it fades the second you hear his voice. Joe’s voice.
You pull back from the guy, your head spinning as you turn to find Joe standing a few feet away. His cap is gone now, his hair slightly mussed, and his expression is unreadable. But his eyes—those blue eyes you’ve memorized in a thousand different shades—are filled with something you can only describe as hurt. It hits you like a punch to the gut.
“Joe,” you manage, your voice shaky, but he doesn’t respond right away. He just looks at you, his jaw tight, his hands curled into fists at his sides.
You barely hear him. Your focus is locked on Joe, on the way his shoulders tense and his gaze flickers between you and the guy. When he finally speaks, his voice is quiet but razor-sharp, like he’s trying to keep something dangerous from slipping out. “Didn’t realize you were… busy.”
The guy behind you shifts awkwardly, clearing his throat. “Uh, I didn’t—”
“She’s drunk,” Joe cuts him off, his tone flat but laced with something that feels too heavy, too sharp to be just irritation. His eyes don’t leave yours, even as he continues, his jaw tight. “You know that, right?”
The words hit you like a slap, and your stomach twists in both anger and embarrassment. You straighten up, the haze of alcohol doing little to dull the heat that creeps up your neck. “Joe, I’m fine. Don’t—”
“No, you’re not,” he snaps, his attention finally shifting to the guy, who looks like he’d rather be anywhere else right now. “Get lost.”
“Hey, man, I didn’t mean any harm,” the guy says, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender. “She seemed into it.”
“Yeah, well, she’s not,” Joe bites back, taking a step forward. There’s a warning in his voice, low and simmering, and the guy takes the hint, backing away with a muttered excuse before disappearing into the crowd.
You whip around to face Joe, your chest heaving. “What the hell is your problem?”
“My problem?” His laugh is bitter, his eyes narrowing as he looks at you. “What are you even doing, [Your Name]? You’re drunk. And you’re letting some random guy—”
“I know exactly what I’m doing,” you interrupt, your voice rising to match his. The heat in your face isn’t just from the alcohol anymore; it’s from the way he’s looking at you, like you’re some reckless child who needs saving. “I’m not a kid, Joe. I don’t need you to swoop in and play hero.”
His hands curl into fists at his sides, and for a moment, he doesn’t say anything, just stares at you like he’s trying to figure out what to do next. When he finally speaks, his voice is quieter but no less intense. “You don’t see it, do you? The way guys like that look at you. They don’t care about you, [Your Name]. They just see an easy target.”
You flinch at his words, the sting of them sharper than you expect. “You don’t get to decide what I do or who I talk to, Joe. You don’t own me.”
“Damn it, I’m trying to protect you!” His voice cracks slightly, the frustration and something else—something softer, almost desperate—breaking through. “Do you have any idea how bad this could’ve gone? What if I hadn’t been here?”
“I didn’t ask you to save me!” Your voice is shaking now, the emotion bubbling up faster than you can contain it. “You think you’re protecting me, but all you’re doing is acting like you know better than I do.”
For a moment, the two of you just stand there, the weight of the argument hanging heavy between you. Around you, the party continues, oblivious to the storm brewing in this corner of the room.
Joe runs a hand through his hair, his expression shifting into something you can’t quite read. Hurt? Anger? Both? “You don’t get it,” he says finally, his voice low. “You never get it.”
“Then explain it to me,” you shoot back, your own voice raw now. “Because all I see is you barging in and making me feel like some helpless idiot.”
His jaw clenches, his hands flexing like he’s holding back something volcanic. When he finally moves, it’s not to storm off—it’s to step closer, his hand wrapping around your arm with just enough pressure to make you pause, though not enough to hurt. His grip is warm and steady, grounding in a way that feels infuriating right now.
“That’s enough,” he says, his voice low but firm. There’s no anger in it, no edge, just a quiet certainty that only makes you bristle more. “You’ve had enough for tonight.”
You yank your arm back, but his hold doesn’t falter. “I’m fine, Joe,” you snap, your voice sharp and defensive. The alcohol in your veins has burned away just enough to leave you teetering on the edge of indignation. “I don’t need you babysitting me.”
He doesn’t respond, his eyes meeting yours with a calm intensity that only fuels your frustration. “Let me go,” you demand, your voice rising. “Seriously, Joe. You can’t just decide—”
“You’re drunk,” he cuts in quietly, his tone unshakable, almost maddeningly patient. “And this isn’t you.”
Your stomach twists, the words hitting a nerve you didn’t realize was exposed. “Oh, so now you’re the expert on me?” you fire back, your voice trembling slightly as you try to pull away again. “You don’t get to tell me who I am or what I can do. I’m not some little kid you need to take care of!”
He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t yell, doesn’t even argue. He just lets you rail against him, his expression remaining infuriatingly steady as he starts guiding you through the crowd, his hand never leaving your arm. You’re too angry to notice the way people glance your way, their conversations pausing as they watch Joe Burrow, the golden boy of LSU, calmly escort you out of the frat house like it’s a routine play he’s run a hundred times before.
“Joe, let me go!” you yell again, louder this time, but your voice bounces off the walls of the crowded room and fades into the noise of the party. He doesn’t respond. He doesn’t stop. He doesn’t even look back.
By the time you’re outside, the cool night air hits you like a slap, the contrast between the crisp breeze and the stuffy warmth of the party jarring enough to momentarily stall your protests. Joe finally lets go of your arm but stands in front of you, his broad frame blocking the house and everyone in it from view.
You glare at him, crossing your arms as you try to steady your breathing. “What the hell is your problem?”
“My problem?” he echoes, his voice still calm, though there’s a hint of something sharper underneath. “My problem is watching you let some random guy take advantage of you because you’ve had too much to drink. My problem is knowing you’re going to regret this in the morning.”
“And you think dragging me out of there like I’m some damsel in distress is going to fix that?” you snap, your chest heaving with the force of your words. “You don’t get to control me, Joe!”
“I’m not trying to control you,” he says, his voice quieter now, but no less firm. “I’m trying to protect you.”
“From what?” you demand, throwing your hands up. “From having fun? From making my own choices?”
“From getting hurt,” he says, and the words are so soft, so raw, that they stop you in your tracks. For a moment, all you can do is stare at him, the anger in your chest giving way to something heavier, something harder to ignore.
His eyes meet yours, and for the first time tonight, you see the cracks in his calm façade. There’s something unsteady in the way he’s looking at you, like he’s balancing on a knife’s edge, trying not to fall. “I care about you, okay? More than I probably should. So yeah, maybe I overstepped, but I’m not going to stand there and watch you make decisions that aren’t you, not when I know you’re going to hate yourself for it tomorrow.”
The weight of his words hangs in the air, heavy and unrelenting. You open your mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. Because for all your anger, all your frustration, there’s a part of you that knows he’s right. And it terrifies you.
Joe takes a step back, running a hand through his hair as he exhales slowly, like he’s trying to steady himself. “If you want to go back in there, I won’t stop you. But I had to try.”
He turns to leave, his shoulders tense, and for the first time tonight, you feel the weight of everything crashing down all at once.
You watch him for a second, the silence stretching between you, thick and tangled with everything unsaid. The words you want to say sit at the back of your throat, but they won’t come. Instead, you take a deep breath, the cold air doing little to cool the fire in your chest, and you follow him.
Joe’s footsteps are steady and purposeful, like he’s not even thinking about the fact that you’re trailing behind him, but somehow you can’t bring yourself to be mad at him anymore. Your anger dissipates in the quiet of the night, swallowed up by the calm that surrounds you both. The sounds of the party fade away as you walk down the street toward your apartment, the rhythmic tap of your heels on the sidewalk oddly soothing.
You keep your gaze fixed ahead, not meeting his eyes. For once, the noise in your head is quieter than the pounding of your heart, but still, you can’t shake the nagging feeling that something's missing.
You finally glance at him out of the corner of your eye. His face is shadowed in the streetlights, but you can still make out the tight line of his jaw, the furrow in his brow. He doesn’t look at you, his focus trained straight ahead, and for some reason, it makes your chest ache.
Neither of you speaks, the tension between you thick but not unbearable. It’s the kind of silence that feels like it’s holding its breath, waiting for something to shift, for someone to break. But you don’t. Not yet.
By the time you reach your apartment door, the quiet feels heavier than the air itself. You fumble with your keys for a moment, your fingers trembling just enough to make it harder than usual to find the right one.
"Here," Joe says, his voice low, and you glance up just in time to see him stepping forward, his hand brushing against yours as he takes the keys from you. He unlocks the door in a smooth motion, and before you can even think to thank him, he speaks again.
“I—”
“You looked good tonight,” he says, cutting you off softly. His voice is steady, but there’s something in it that makes your stomach flip, an edge of vulnerability you weren’t expecting. His eyes meet yours then, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “The dress. I liked it.”
The words hang in the air for a moment, and it feels like the ground beneath you shifts, like the world tilts on its axis and sets you spinning. You stare at him, your heart beating too fast, and then—without warning—you’re smiling.
It’s not forced or awkward. It’s real, stretching across your face in a way that makes the weight in your chest lift just a little. And then he’s smiling too, that familiar grin that’s been burned into your memory for years, and suddenly, everything feels lighter.
“Thanks,” you manage, your voice quieter now, softer. You glance down at the fabric of your dress, smoothing it out as if to steady yourself. “I wasn’t sure if it was my color.”
“It is,” he says, and there’s no hesitation in his voice, just certainty. “Blue suits you.”
You blink, staring at him, at the way he’s looking at you now—open, earnest, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Something in his eyes shifts, like he’s trying to gauge whether you’ll believe him, whether you’ll understand the weight behind those words. And you do.
A smile spreads across your face before you can even stop it. It’s like all the pieces of this night fall into place, clicking together, and for the first time in hours, you feel lighter. The alcohol fades to a dull buzz in the back of your mind, replaced by a warmth that starts in your chest and spreads outward, filling you up from the inside.
“I’m glad you like it,” you say softly, the words slipping out before you even think about them. You’re not even sure who you’re trying to convince. Maybe him. Maybe yourself.
He smiles back, that familiar, crooked grin that makes your heart stutter in your chest. And just like that, you know.
The tension between you two, the hurt, the anger—it’s all still there, but it’s fading, slipping away with each breath you take, with each passing moment. The connection you’ve both been avoiding is right there, in the space between you, unspoken but understood.
Without thinking, without hesitating, you step forward. The words leave your mouth before your brain can stop them.
“Do you want to come in?”
For a second, he doesn’t answer. He just looks at you, his expression unreadable, like he’s trying to figure out what’s real and what’s not. But then the smile returns, a little softer, a little more vulnerable this time, and he steps closer, his hand brushing against yours again.
“I’d like that.”
You step aside, holding the door open for him, and as he crosses the threshold into your apartment, the world outside fades away. The weight of the night, the tension, the unspoken feelings—it all starts to fall away as you close the door behind him, the sound of it locking making everything feel a little more real.
And for the first time tonight, you feel like you might actually be able to breathe again.
Inside, the apartment feels cozy, a stark contrast to the cold night air outside. You toss your keys onto the counter, the clink of metal breaking the comfortable silence as Joe surveys the familiar space. He’s been here more times than you can count, so much that it’s almost like he lives here—except he doesn’t. He’s always just passing through, leaving behind traces of himself that linger far longer than he does.
“I’m gonna shower,” he says casually, already heading toward the bathroom like it’s the most natural thing in the world. And maybe it is.
“Sure,” you reply, watching as he grabs a towel from the hall closet without missing a beat. “You know where everything is.”
He shoots you a grin over his shoulder. “Hard not to when half of it used to be mine.”
You roll your eyes, but a laugh slips out before you can stop it. The tension from earlier feels miles away, replaced by an easy warmth that only Joe seems to bring. You head to the couch, plopping down and grabbing the remote while he disappears into the bathroom. The sound of water running fills the quiet, and you let yourself sink into the cushions, your body finally relaxing.
When Joe reappears twenty minutes later, his hair damp and curling slightly at the ends, he’s wearing a pair of sweats and an old LSU hoodie you distinctly remember stealing from him months ago. The sight of him makes your stomach flip, but you push the feeling down, focusing on the TV as he flops onto the couch beside you.
He stretches out, his long legs taking up most of the space, and gestures at his hoodie with a mock-serious expression. “You know, you could at least ask before raiding my closet.”
You glance at him, feigning innocence. “What can I say? Your clothes are comfortable. And they look better on me.”
He snorts, leaning back with a grin that’s all teasing charm. “Debatable.”
“Not even a little bit,” you counter, smirking. The playful banter feels so normal, so easy, that you almost forget the storm that brewed between you earlier.
Almost.
After a while, the two of you migrate to your bed, the comforter a welcoming cocoon as you prop up pillows and settle in with The Office playing softly in the background. Joe’s on one side, you’re on the other, the space between you wide enough to be friendly but not awkward. It feels... safe. Like every other time you’ve done this.
But tonight, something lingers in the air, something unspoken that buzzes just beneath the surface. You try to ignore it, to lose yourself in the familiar rhythm of Jim and Pam’s back-and-forth, but you can feel Joe shifting beside you, his presence impossible to ignore.
It’s almost halfway through an episode when he speaks, his voice cutting through the soft glow of the TV. “You know…” he starts, his tone so casual it catches you off guard. “It’s funny how everyone thinks we’re just friends.”
You turn to look at him, your brows knitting together. “Uh… because we are just friends?”
He shrugs, his eyes still fixed on the screen, his expression maddeningly nonchalant. “Sure, but like… doesn’t it ever feel like more than that sometimes? Like, not in a weird way, but…” He trails off, his lips curving into a small, almost amused smile. “I don’t know. Just thinking out loud.”
Your heart stutters, your breath catching as his words sink in. You’re suddenly hyper-aware of the way his arm brushes against yours, the warmth radiating from his body, the way his voice dips just enough to make you second-guess everything. But Joe doesn’t seem fazed. If anything, he looks like he’s just commented on the weather, like this vague, half-confession isn’t turning your entire world upside down.
“Joe…” You hesitate, unsure of what to say or how to even process what he just implied.
He finally looks at you, his gaze steady but soft, like he’s daring you to call him out. “What? I’m just saying. It’s not that crazy of an idea, is it?”
Your mouth opens, but no words come out. You’re torn between laughing at how absurdly casual he’s being and screaming at him for dropping this bombshell like it’s nothing. Instead, you settle for staring at him, your mind racing as the silence stretches on.
And then, as if to hammer the final nail in your coffin, he adds, “I mean, you do look really good in that dress. I wasn’t lying about that.”
It feels like the air’s been knocked out of you. Your heart pounds so loudly you’re sure he can hear it, and you’re not entirely sure if the warmth spreading through your chest is panic or something else entirely.
Joe doesn’t push. He just leans back against the pillows, his gaze flicking back to the TV like he didn’t just casually crack open the door to feelings you’ve spent way too long pretending don’t exist. But the small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth gives him away. He knows exactly what he’s doing.
And for the first time, you’re not sure if you want to close that door or walk straight through it.
Your brain short-circuits. There’s no other way to describe it. You sit there, staring at him, your mouth opening and closing like you’re a fish out of water, but no words come out. None. Your heart is pounding in your chest, your thoughts racing too fast for you to grab hold of even one.
Joe waits, his expression unreadable. His eyes flick to yours, searching, like he’s waiting for some kind of confirmation—or maybe a rejection. The seconds stretch into what feels like hours, and the weight of the moment settles heavily between you.
You want to say something, anything, but your tongue feels glued to the roof of your mouth, and all you can do is sit there like an idiot while your heart threatens to burst out of your chest.
And then, Joe decides he’s done waiting.
Without warning, he leans in, his hand coming up to cup the side of your face as his lips press softly against yours. It’s gentle, tentative, like he’s giving you every chance to pull away. But you don’t. You can’t. The moment his mouth touches yours, it’s like the world stops spinning.
When he pulls back, his gaze locks on yours, his thumb brushing against your cheek. His expression is softer than you’ve ever seen it, and his voice is quiet when he finally speaks. “You’re impossible, you know that?”
It takes a second for his words to register, but when they do, they snap you out of your daze. “I’m impossible?” you manage to croak, your voice barely above a whisper. “You just—”
“Yeah,” he interrupts, a faint smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I did.”
You blink at him, still trying to process what just happened. But then the realization hits you like a freight train, and the words tumble out before you can stop them. “I feel the same way.”
Joe’s smirk widens into a full-blown grin, and he leans back, his hand dropping to rest casually on your knee. “Took you long enough to say it,” he teases, his tone light but undeniably smug. “Thought I was gonna have to spell it out for you.”
Your cheeks burn, and you swat at his arm, unable to stop the small laugh that escapes you. “Oh, shut up.”
He chuckles, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he pulls you closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and tucking you into his side like it’s the most natural thing in the world. His hoodie smells like fresh laundry and something distinctly Joe, and you let yourself sink into the warmth of him, your head resting against his chest.
For a while, neither of you say anything. The TV continues playing in the background, the familiar sounds of The Office filling the room, but neither of you are paying attention anymore. Joe’s fingers trace absent patterns on your arm, and every now and then, you catch him glancing down at you with a soft smile that makes your heart flutter all over again.
It’s quiet, easy, comfortable, like this is exactly where you’re supposed to be. And maybe, just maybe, it is.
↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !
↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡
#nfl fic#nfl football#nfl lb#nfl imagine#joe burrow#joe burrow bengals#joe burrow x reader#joe burrow imagine#joe burrow smut#joe burrow fan fic#joeyb#cincinnati bengals#joe burrow x you#joe burrow x y/n#joe burrow x oc
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Kai's Pretty Girlfriend [2]: Step Two
Hueningkai x Reader, eventual OT5 x Reader [3k ish words]
Warnings: thigh riding, kinda mean dom kai, sub reader, unprotected sex, dub con (Kai does things under the assumption that since the guys like the reader, they won't mind and while he's right, he still doesn't ask for consent), exhibitionism, voyeurism
Movie nights are a bit of a sacred tradition between the six of you. The only reason they work so well with your busy schedules is because you all make an effort to spend time together. It might seem silly, but you all push through fatigue and a promise of a good night sleep if it means you’ll spend even just two hours with each other. So maybe Kai should feel a little more remorseful for tainting them.
It’s for the greater good! He thinks to himself as he lets his hands travel down the front of your body under the blanket covering the two of you. Making sure to stop at your covered tits to give them some love. Pinching and pulling them through your shirt just a bit before traveling lower. You’re ever so pliant for him. He tells himself it’s because you’re such a good girl but he knows it’s probably because of the four guys sitting right next to you.
Well, right next to you is a bit of an exaggeration. You and Kai take the loveseat as the resident love birds while the guys pile onto the couch. They could very well see what’s going on if not for the action movie playing on the TV. Kai should probably know what it is, but he didn’t even bother to pay attention when they explained the two-part series because he knew he’d have more pressing matters to attend to. Namely, you.
He decides he should have some decorum, at least at the start. It’ll be no fun if you’re found out so soon after all. He just lets his hand wander under the blanket and your skirt to check what he already knows. Of course, you’re wet for him. Knowing you, you’ve been wet since you got to the dorm for the movie night. Kai was not secretive about the things he wanted to do to you, making sure to strip you of your panties and work you open for him as soon as he got his hands on you.
But that just makes this all the more fun. He keeps you still on his lap through the first movie but doesn’t let you rest. Instead, he trails his hands up and down your waist, sometimes letting them go up to fondle your tits some more and sometimes letting them go lower fluttering around but never where you need him most.
About halfway through the second movie, he turns you around on his lap, making sure to keep the blanket in place. You go willingly, letting him manhandle you into a different position and just tuck your head onto his shoulder with your face turned out to the TV. No doubt, it's a very uncomfortable position, but you don’t whine or complain. But Kai knows you well enough to know that your silence will go away very soon.
He takes a glance at the guys to see what they’re up to and finds them all glued to the screen. It seems like a fight scene is on and they’re all adamantly watching it. Yeonjun is leaning a bit out of his seat on the couch to see better while Soobin is resting his head on the back of the couch probably fighting sleep. Taehyun and Beomgyu are squished in between the two also fixed on the tv. Kai takes that as being in the clear to continue.
He starts off slow and simply grabs your hips to adjust your position from on his lap to hovering over his thigh. Setting you down and leaning to your ear to whisper, “Go ahead, sweetie. Don’t you wanna get off?”
Your hands twitch where they’re rested between the two of you before moving to his shoulders, squeezing. “But the guys…”
“I don’t think I mentioned them, did I?” He uses his grip to push you down onto his thigh, flexing the muscle. “Isn’t this what you wanted? You were so wet when I checked earlier. I’m not gonna help you out, so get started before I change my mind.”
You mutter something he can’t hear before rolling your hips against him. Shifting your head into his neck to hide your gasp. The rough fabric against your bare cunt doesn’t feel as good as you were hoping but you’re not gonna complain. You start off with a slow movement, too aware of the other people in the room with you.
Your hands flex on Kai's shoulders as you move yourself over his thigh. You quickly soak Kai’s pants which makes you run hot, but it does aid the slide. His flexing every so often also helps, but besides that, he leaves his hands at your hips and doesn't talk to you. It makes you feel so needy and desperate as if he didn't get you like this.
You crave his hands on you. Want his hands to wander down to the crease where your ass meets your thighs and grip. Want him to guide your movements above him like he usually does. Want him to trace your thighs and pinch at your skin while laughing at the tears his touch brings. But since he isn't, it's up to you to bring yourself pleasure, grinding against his thigh while you muffle your sounds against his skin.
You eventually build up a good rhythm that isn’t too noticeable while still working yourself to the edge. But that’s the problem. You’re only on the edge. It feels like you’ve been doing this for so long. Short pants leave your mouth from the effort and you angle your hips just right to rub your clit against his thigh.
But even that doesn’t help much. It feels so good and you know you’ve gotten off with less before, so why is it so hard? You just wanted to come, is that so much to ask? Kai has had you wound up since you walked into the dorm and this could be the sweet relief you needed but of course, it’s not that easy. A grunt of displeasure leaves your lips.
You never liked doing the work, content to let Kai move you as he wishes. Hell, you don’t even like riding him all that much. It doesn’t take much longer before you’re whimpering into his neck and clutching his shoulders, on the verge of tears because your thighs hurt and you’re no closer to coming than you were before all this.
“Kai.” You whisper into his skin. “I can’t. Help me?”
“Of course, you can’t. Dumb thing always needs me to help her out, hm?” Kai makes sure to let out a sigh before moving his hand from your hip to your cunt. He uses two fingers to open your folds and circle your entrance before continuing. “You just can’t help it though, can you? Always need me to make you feel good, right?”
“Need you. Need you.” You agree as you push your hips closer to his hand, urging him to get inside you. “Please. Please? I’ll be good, promise.”
He takes that as the okay to push two fingers into you. You gasp at the intrusion and clench around them. “I can’t help if you do let me in, pretty. I prepped you earlier, loosen up.”
You take a deep breath before relaxing into his hold once again. He mutters a ‘good’ to you before spreading his fingers inside you and thrusting them in and out. You try to keep your sounds down, you really do, but Kai knows how to make you feel good. He knows which parts to prod and press at to have you seeing stars and he doesn’t even try to help you out.
Not even bothering to be nice, instead playing with you in a way that he knows makes you loud. He doesn't bat an eye at how you bite your lip and squeeze his shoulders because he knows you'll be good. Knows you’ll take whatever he gives you and you will, but it’s hard. How can he expect you to be quiet when he’s doing this to you?
“Kai.” You moan out when he pushes his fingers to that spot that makes you feel so so good and grip his shoulders tighter. “I can- you can’t do that.”
“And why not?” He asks as he teases a third finger at your entrance. “I thought you wanted my help, baby. Am I not helping?”
“No, no, you are. Bu-“ You’re cut off by another moan escaping from his movements. “I can’t be quiet like this.”
“You can, baby." He pulls his fingers out to readjust before thrusting three into you with his thumb making a home on your clit. "I know you can be good for me.”
“I can’t.” He presses a kiss to your head, telling you to continue. "Not like this."
“Well, then you’ll just be loud.” His movements get more rough, each time he thrusts his fingers in he spreads them out mapping your core but making sure at least one of them is hitting that spongey spot inside you. “I know that’s what you wanted anyways, hm? Baby needs attention all the time. I’m not enough for you?”
“No!" You jolt at your volume before resting your head further into Kai's neck to continue. "No. Kai- Hyuka that’s not it, please.”
"Well, what do you want, hm?" His free hand travels to your waist and pinches hard making the tears that pooled in your eyes earlier spill over and whimpers leave your mouth. "I'm trying to help you out and all you're doing is complaining."
"Sor- 'm sorry." You cry out. "Just feel so good, you make me feel so good, I can't be quiet."
"My sweet girl." He purrs, bringing his hand from your clit to cradle your face, making sure to smear your wetness on your face. "My poor sweet girl. How could I forget? How dare I forget how dumb you get when I get my hands on you? That's okay, I'll make you listen."
He slides two fingers into your mouth and continues his ministrations below. And this feels good. Oh, it feels amazing, but then you realize that you don’t want to come like this. You tap his shoulder a few times and he slides his fingers out.
“I need you.” You trail your hands down to pull at the hem of his pants. “Please, please?”
“For how worried you were before, it seems like you want them to know how much of a slut you are.” He chances a glance at the guys to find them still watching the movie. Now, whether that’s out of respect or genuine interest is not determined. “Should I just take the blanket off of you? Let them see for real?”
You shake your head but continue pulling on his hemline. "No, 'm just need you. Need you. Please?" And for as hard as Kai can be on you, he really likes to give you what you want. He likes making you feel good. Likes turning you whiney and making you cry and beg for what you want just so he can give you it and so much more. Maybe that’s why you continue to ask for more, knowing whatever you take he returns tenfold.
“Lift up a bit.” You raise onto your knees to give him room to slide his dick out. “Bite my shoulder, sweet thing. So you’re not too loud.”
You were about to retort but when he guides you onto him, you quickly bite down to keep in your sounds. Kai's not helping any with the way he travels his hands up from your hips and to your stomach to press on the bulge he's leaving in your tummy making you choke down a moan.
“This is what you needed, hm?” He says as he picks you up a bit to fix his footing. “Always need me to do all the work, right baby? Pretty thing can’t get off by herself, but that’s okay, I’ll help you out.”
He takes to moving you up and down his cock but never letting you go all the way down so there’s no sound of skin hitting skin. Not that the lack of sound would matter much because you’re not quiet whatsoever. You poor thing, gripping his shoulders so tightly and digging your teeth in so hard but even that isn’t stopping your sounds.
You probably don’t even realize, too caught up in the feeling of wanting a release so desperately that you can’t think of anything else. Kai likes it when you get like this. So lost in the way he makes you feel. It makes him want to devour you but more than that, makes him want to show you off. Show the world how good you are, how sweet you sound.
He looks up to check if the guys are still watching the TV and they are but it’s clear their minds are elsewhere. All of their ears are tinted red and they’re all sitting ramrod straight, adjusting every now and then.
Kai wants to say something, but he didn’t talk to you about how far he could push and, honestly, you’d agree to anything he’d ask of you right now but would it be genuine? Or would you just be agreeing so you could come? He doesn’t have much time to assess before your keening and pulling off his shoulder to beg.
“Kai! ‘m gonna- gonna come.” You choke out as your hands go from his shoulders to his neck, tilting your head up towards him. “Kiss? Please?"
“You never have to ask, love.” He bends down to meet your lips, sliding his tongue into your waiting mouth. “Go ahead and come for me, baby.” He whispers into your lips. “You’ve been so good, you deserve it.” He slams you down onto his lap and moves his hand to your clit, passing over it once, twice, until you’re coming around him.
When you’re finished riding out your high, he pulls himself out of you and hushes your whines with a sweet kiss before he picks you up to pull up his pants and carries you out of the living room. Leaving his friends and group mates to sit in silence (besides the movie credits rolling) with awkward boners and flushes on their faces. When he lays you down on the bed, he kisses you again as he strips you of your clothes.
“Did I do good? Hyuka?” You ask even though he already said it, craving his words.
“So good, baby.” He pulls down his pants and enters you again. “Always so good for me. My perfect little slut, yeah?”
His words may grow more brazen but his thrusts are slow and deep. His hands are sweet as they guide your legs over his shoulders. You love Kai in all of his moods but this one might be your favorite. The way his hands trace your body as if your glass but his mouth runs a mile a minute. Telling you how you were so good and so quiet that he almost thought he wasn’t making you feel good. Saying how he’ll just have to make you scream now to make sure he can still satisfy you.
He continues to ramble as he travels his hands to interlock with yours and bring them above your head. Rocking into you and reaching so far you swear you feel him in your throat, as impossible as that is. It feels so good, he feels so good, you can’t help the little ahs that leave your mouth.
He makes you both reach the edge like that, rambling off about anything and everything before sliding himself out of you and grabbing something to clean you off. Then pulling you into his arms and whispering sweet nothings to you until you fall asleep interlocked together.
<3
Kai expected a talk after you were less than subtle during movie night, but it doesn't make it any less embarrassing to be scolded by his friends.
Taehyun, Soobin, Yeonjun, and Beomgyu are currently standing in front of the couch where you and Kai are cuddling. Taehyun is standing with his hands in his pockets looking bored, Soobin is fiddling with his hands and looks as if he'd rather be anywhere else, Yeonjun has his arms crossed and is tapping his foot, and Beomgyu looks excited that he isn't currently being scolded.
"Is there anything you guys need?" Kai asks casually as he adjusts your position to sitting up.
"You guys can't sit together for movie nights anymore," Yeonjun says with shockingly little remorse considering the fact that he just ripped Kai's heart out and stomped on it in less than ten words.
"What?"
"Why not?" You and Kai share a look of shock and devastation before turning back to them.
"Well, putting aside the fact that you don't even pretend to pay attention to the movie, you also are very distracting to those of us who do want to watch the movie," Taehyun responds.
"How are we distracting?" Kai asks.
"Y/n doesn't even attempt to be quiet an-" Beomgyu is cut off by your gasp as you turn to Kai.
"You told me I was quiet!" You shoot him a look of pure betrayal that Kai has to look away from in shame.
"Well, maybeee you weren't as quiet as I was telling you," Kai proceeds to defend himself (read: lie through his fucking teeth), "You always try so hard to be good for me, I couldn't handle breaking the truth to you."
You don't spare him another glance before looking at the guys in remorse, "I'm so sorry that someone is a lying asshole, I didn't mean to stop you guys from enjoying movie nights."
"No, y/n, it's not your fault," Soobin stops before you can overthink. "We completely blame Kai. It wasn't even that big of a problem, we really wouldn’t have minded if it wasn’t during movie night!”
“You wouldn’t have minded?” You ask surprised. Soobin promptly flushes.
“I- I mean, if you’re comfortable- but like- we don’t mind- I mean I can’t speak for them but-“
“What Soobin is so eloquently saying is that you’re hot y/n,” Beomgyu chimes in, not even flinching at the scorching glare Soobin sends his way. “We’d be crazy to not want to see you fall apart so prettily.”
“Oh.” You’re rendered speechless while Kai struggles to keep his smile at bay. This means Step Two is a success as well! He’s two for two. Damn. He should’ve placed a bet with someone. Or maybe not because when he thinks about it, Step Three needs a bit of revision...
Step Two is done!! Yippie! This took so long because chapter three had me in a chokehold (and I was sick). Love ya! Let me know what you think!
What is Kai's revision to step three? The guys have watched so long, do you think they'll break and start doing something?
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between the ride and the roses (3)
Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader
Genre/Tags: biker/ motorcycle shop owner! jungkook x flower shop owner! reader, enemies to lovers, opposites attract, slow burn, angst, smut, fluff
Word count: 3.8k
Series summary: There's an insane turn of events when your calm and peaceful life is intruded by Jungkook, a biker boy who sets up his loud business right next to your own. Your paths cross under unlikely circumstances, starting with a clash of personalities but gradually you find yourself establishing a deeper connection with the annoyingly attractive biker jerk. You both have no idea what's in store for you guys as you try your best to put up with each other.
Chapter Warnings: argument, jungkook is mean, OC is mean. both have high egos.
A/N: part 3 is here <3 i'm having sm fun writing this. also, i got this anonymous ask which stated i was using chat-gpt for my stories. i didn't like the tone of their message so i blocked them. however, i just want to say i have not used chat-gpt for my stories. i take time out of my day to type this story because i really want to put content out there that people might enjoy reading. i want to make stories that i have always wanted to read, but never found. truthfully, i did use chat gpt for the names of a few flowers, plants and bouquet combinations though, because i'm not a professional florist and i have no idea about flowers. i hope that's understandable. anyways, thank u for reading. let me know your thoughts :)
part 3: blooming grudges
The sun is setting, painting the street in hues of orange and pink, but the peace you’re so badly yearning for is shattered by the rumble of motorcycles and boisterous laughter right outside your shop. It’s been a week since Jungkook’s shop had started running and it has surprisingly quickly become a hotspot for bikers to gather in the evenings. The constant noise and chaos spill over into your once-quiet corner of the neighborhood.
You have no idea what they do and what the point of all these gatherings are, but you dread it every single time you hear a bunch of men lounging outside your shop.
As the evening progresses, you’re in the middle of arranging a bouquet when the sharp crash of breaking pottery jolts you out of your work. Heart pounding, you glance outside and see one of Jungkook’s biker friends near the sidewalk through your window. Still confused, you stand up and storm out to see what the hell had happened.
Anger surges through your veins as you spot the man casually standing there as if he didn’t just knock over one of your handmade ceramic pots off the display stand that was right outside your shop. “What the hell is wrong with you??!!?!” you snap, glaring at the man and then at the jagged pieces of your pot just lying there, near his feet.
The biker barely spares you a glance, shrugging nonchalantly. “Relax. It’s just a pot.” he says.
“Just a pot?” you repeat, your voice rising. “Do you have any idea how much time and effort went into that? Or do you only care about things you can rev or ride?” you feel your heart thumping as your anger skyrockets.
Before the man can respond, Jungkook suddenly steps out of the crowd near his shop. His leather jacket gleams in the fading light, and his dark eyes flicker to the broken pot before landing on you. “What’s going on?” he questions, his voice low and calm, but there’s an edge of warning to it.
You point at the shards of pottery. “What’s going on? One of your friends just broke my pot and doesn’t even have the decency to apologize!” Jungkook looks at his friend, who just shrugs, then back at you. “It was an accident.” he dismisses, his tone clipped. “I’ll pay for it.” he continues and you watch his friend just leave the scene, completely unbothered.
You laugh bitterly, shaking your head. “Pay for it? Do you think that solves everything? This isn’t just about the pot, Jungkook. Every night, this street turns into a circus because of your shop. My customers can’t park anymore, and now your friends are trashing my things.” you begin, moving your hands as you speak, unable to remain calm anymore.
His jaw tightens, and he takes a step closer. “Look, I’m sorry about the pot, but don’t act like I’m the reason your shop isn’t doing well. Maybe it’s not the noise. Maybe people just don’t care about overpriced flowers.”
Your breath catches, his words cutting deeper than you expect. “Wow,” you say, your voice trembling with anger. “You really think you’re better than everyone, don’t you? Just because you’ve got your flashy bikes and your little gang of followers?” you ignore the way your heart twitches at how he had just disrespected you and your business.
His expression hardens. “Better than everyone? No. But at least I’m not the one blaming other people for my problems. You’re so focused on what’s wrong with my shop, but maybe the issue isn’t me. Maybe it’s you.”
Your fists clench at your sides. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. I’ve been here for years, building this business from the ground up. And you waltz in, turning this neighborhood into a mess, and act like you’re doing everyone a favor?” you see red as you fight with him, unable to contain the flow of words that are spilling out of your mouth.
Jungkook’s voice sharpens and he doesn’t hold back. “You think I don’t work hard? That I haven’t sacrificed everything to make this shop work? You don’t know anything about me. But sure, keep throwing stones from your little glass house.” he counters harshly.
“Oh so you can say anything about my business, but i can’t? You can talk about me like you know me, but i can’t?” There’s venom in your voice as you argue and Jungkook clenches his jaw, trying to calm himself down.
The tension between the two of you is suffocating and each word cuts like a blade. As an awkward silence fills the air, you shake your head. “You’re unbelievable.” you breathily say. “You don’t care about anyone but yourself.” you add.
“And you...” he fires back, “care so much about your damn shop that you can’t see past your own damn ego.” You look at him with your lips parted, unable to come up with a comeback. You feel your eyes sting and nothing makes sense anymore. You hate it here. You hate him.
Before you can respond, one of the bikers calls out to Jungkook, and he turns away, his shoulders tense. He doesn’t bother looking back at you and just leaves.
Fuming, you crouch down to pick up the broken shards of your pot. Your hands tremble as you scoop up the jagged pieces, and a sharp piece slices right through your finger. You hiss, dropping the shard as blood wells up from the cut. Your eyes tear up as you watch your finger bleed. You were so done with this man and his stupid shop.
Ignoring the sting, you finish cleaning up and head back inside, pressing a tissue to your finger. You flip the sign on your door, deciding to call it a day since you weren’t really in the mood to face any new customers. You retreat to your counter, where you slump into your chair, frustrated, exhausted and seething.
//
Inside Throttle and Torque, the atmosphere is much quieter, now that the bikers have left. Jungkook leans against the counter, his expression stormy as he thinks of the interaction he had with you 4 hours ago. Yoongi, Jimin, and Hoseok sit nearby, watching him with varying degrees of curiosity and amusement.
“You look like you’re about to punch something.” Jimin says, breaking the silence. Jungkook scoffs, running a hand through his hair. “It’s that flower shop owner again. She’s impossible.”
“Y/N?” Hoseok grins. “What did she do this time?” he questions. Jungkook glares at him. “One of the guys broke her pot, and she went off like it was the end of the world. Then she starts blaming me for everything—says I’m ruining the whole street. Like it’s my fault her shop isn’t getting customers.” he speaks, his tone filled with annoyance.
“Isn’t it, though?” Jimin teases, earning a sharp look from Jungkook. Yoongi, raises an eyebrow. “Sounds like there’s more to it than just a pot.” he states.
“She doesn’t get it hyung...” Jungkook says, his voice growing louder. “She acts like she’s the only one who works hard, like I haven’t busted my ass to get this place running. And then she has the nerve to call me selfish? Like she knows anything about me.”
“Sounds like she hit a nerve.” Hoseok snorts, a smirk on his face. “Shut up,” Jungkook mutters, but the irritation in his voice betrays him. “She thinks she’s so perfect, but all she does is complain. It’s like she’s looking for reasons to hate me.” he rolls his eyes.
“Maybe she is.” Yoongi says, his tone thoughtful. “Or maybe you’ve already given her enough reasons to hate you.” he continues. The room falls silent, and Jungkook scoffs, pushing off the counter. “Whatever. She’s not worth it.” he dismisses, not wanting to think of you or the raging encounter he just had with you.
//
the next day; The morning sun spills through the large windows of your flower shop as you rearrange a fresh batch of chrysanthemums. Despite the beautiful blooms around you, there’s a heaviness in your heart. Last night’s argument with Jungkook replays in your mind, his sharp words still stinging.
The little bell above the door jingles, pulling you out from your trance. You turn to see a man walking in—a face you recognize from the group that always lingers outside Jungkook’s shop and sometimes with him as well. “Hi.” he says, his voice calm but kind. “Y/N, right?”
You blink in surprise. “Yeah… and you’re one of Jungkook’s friends, i suppose.” you say, moving away from the flowers as dry your hands on your apron. You notice how his eyes fall on the bandage wrapped around your finger, so you quickly hide it by crossing your arms over your chest. He pretends like he’s seen nothing and nods, his hands tucked into the pockets of his leather jacket. “I’m Yoongi. I came here because I wanted to talk to you, if you don’t mind.” he says, his voice tender.
Your instinct is to put up a wall, but something about his tone disarms you. “If this is about last night—”
“It is.” Yoongi interrupts gently. “But not in the way you think.” He steps closer, his gaze steady but non-threatening. “I’m here to apologize. On behalf of Jungkook. And… the idiot who broke your pot.”
You blink again, caught off guard. “You’re apologizing? Why?” you gulp, something about this, not sitting right with you. “Because he won’t.” Yoongi says with a faint smile, though his tone carries a hint of seriousness. “Jungkook’s stubborn. He knows he messed up, but he’s too proud to admit it outright. And, well, someone has to try to make things right.” he admits, blinking his eyes.
Yoongi observes your expression, noticing how you still look quite unconvinced. His face softens as he continues. “Jungkook’s not a bad guy, Y/N. He just… rough around the edges. Give him time. He doesn’t always know how to handle things. He gets defensive when he feels cornered.”
“Cornered?” you echo, frowning. “I wasn’t cornering him. I just wanted some peace.” you defend yourself. “I know.” Yoongi agrees. “And I think, deep down, he knows it too. But he’s been under a lot of pressure with the shop, and sometimes he lashes out without meaning to. Not that it excuses anything.” he adds quickly. “You didn’t deserve what he said. Or how he treated you. ”
His honesty surprises you, and for the first time, you feel a part of the weight lift off from your chest. “Why are you telling me this?” you suddenly ask, eyeing him even though, deep down you’re trying your best to believe everything this man says.
“Because I think you’re both better than this petty back-and-forth... interactions.” Yoongi says simply, shrugging. “And maybe, if you understand where he’s coming from, it’ll help. Or not. I don’t know. I just thought you deserved an actual apology, even if it’s not from him directly.” he finishes, flashing you a small, kind smile.
For a moment, you’re silent, processing his words. Then, to your own surprise, you smile faintly. “You’re a good friend, Yoongi.” you softly say, earning a chuckle from him as he scratches the back of his neck. “Someone’s gotta keep him in check.” he grins.
After a moment, he steps back towards the door, pausing before leaving. “Take care, Y/N. And if he steps out of line again, let me know. I’ll knock some sense into him.” he nods at you and you laugh lightly, the sound easing some of the tension in the room. “I’ll keep that in mind.” you say, waving at him.
//
Jungkook sits on the edge of the counter, a wrench in hand, intently focused as he works while Jimin, Hoseok, and Yoongi lounge around. The conversation flows between them, lighthearted at first, until Yoongi brings up his visit to your shop.
“So....” Yoongi begins casually, “I stopped by Y/N’s shop today.” he says. Jungkook freezes for a moment, his eyes narrowing. “What for?” he asks, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.
“To apologize.” Yoongi replies, leaning back in his chair. “On your behalf. Figured someone had to.” he adds. Jimin snickers, while Hoseok whistles low. “Apologizing for Jungkook? That’s new.” he laughs as Jimin gives him a high five.
“Very funny.” Jungkook mutters, but his attention stays on Yoongi. “What’d she say?” he questions and Yoongi shrugs. “She wasn’t exactly thrilled to hear your name, but we talked. She’s not as tough as she seems, you know. She’s just… tired. Your shop and the noise—it’s really messing with her.” he explains calmly.
Jungkook doesn’t reply, his jaw tightening. “And she’s hurt, by the way.” Yoongi adds, his tone sharper. “I noticed her hand. I guess she cut her finger while picking up the broken pieces of the pot your friend broke yesterday.” he explains.
The guilt that had been simmering in Jungkook since last night, suddenly boils over. “Why didn’t she say anything?” he snaps, more to himself than to his friends. “Maybe because you were too busy arguing with her to notice,” Yoongi retorts, his voice calm but firm. “She’s not your enemy, Jungkook. Stop treating her like one.” he says gently, hoping the younger one understands.
The room goes quiet, the weight of Yoongi’s words settling over them. Jimin and Hoseok exchange a glance, sensing the tension. Jungkook exhales heavily, tossing the wrench aside. “I didn’t mean to hurt her.” he admits quietly. “I just—” He stops, frustration lacing his voice.
“You don’t know how to back down,” Jimin finishes for him, a teasing edge to his tone. Jungkook glares at him but doesn’t deny it. Instead, he leans back against the counter, running a hand through his hair. “What else did she say to you?” he questions Yoongi. He smirks slightly. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” he asks, wiggling his brows.
Jungkook’s glare intensifies, and Yoongi chuckles. “Relax. She was civil. We just talked about you a little and that’s all. She thinks I’m the ‘good friend,’ by the way.” he smiles to himself.
The comment makes Jungkook’s stomach churn with something he doesn’t want to name—guilt, jealousy, maybe both. He stays quiet as the others laugh, his thoughts swirling.
He’s messed up, and he knows it. And now, the thought of you opening up to someone else, even Yoongi, twists something deep inside him. For the first time, he wonders if the damage he’s caused can ever be repaired.
//
It’s just another day—or at least you hope it will be. After the pot-breaking incident a week ago, things between you and Jungkook have only grown tenser. Though Yoongi apologized to you on behalf of his actions, you were still very annoyed by the way things still hadn’t changed.
His friends still gather outside his shop in the evenings, their bikes parked so close to your store it’s nearly impossible for customers to walk in without squeezing past them. You’ve been trying to keep your head down, avoiding any unnecessary interaction with Jungkook.
However, despite the ongoing tension you can’t help but notice how hardworking Jungkook is. For a brief moment, you feel a twinge of guilt as you think about the bad blood between you guys. Maybe you need to start putting your differences aside and try to get along with him.
You shake your head, telling yourself not to think about that. You leave that thought for another day, when you’re less busy and have more time to waste.
A new shipment of flowers and pots arrives after about an hour. You’re juggling the chaos of directing the delivery workers when disaster strikes. One of the crates slips from a worker’s hands, scattering flowers and dirt all across the curb—and, unfortunately, onto one of the shiny motorcycles parked outside Jungkook’s shop.
You barely have time to assess the mess before Jungkook storms out. His face is a mask of irritation, and his voice cuts like a blade. “What the hell is this?” he immediately snaps, gesturing at the scattered soil and dirt-streaked bike.
You sigh, already bracing yourself. “It was an accident. We’ll clean it up right away.” you calmly say, knowing damn well this wasn’t something you were about to get to away with. “An accident?” he repeats, his tone laced with disbelief. “You really need to start taking responsibility, Y/N. You can’t just keep saying it’s an accident every time you screw something up.” he angrily says.
Your frustration bubbles over. “Excuse me? This is the first time I’ve caused any inconvenience to you. Meanwhile, your friends park their bikes outside my shop every evening, blocking the entrance, and I don’t say a thing!” you argue.
“Oh, here we go...” Jungkook retorts, his voice rising. “You’re always whining about the bikes. Maybe if you managed your deliveries better, this wouldn’t have happened.” he scoffs loudly.
“Don’t turn this on me!!” you snap, stepping closer. “You act like this street belongs to you and your gang of bikers. Maybe if you had a little consideration for others, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation!” you stomp your feet at the last word, wanting this interaction to just end. But were you going to be the first one to stop? no.
Jungkook’s jaw tightens, and for a moment, you think he might say something even harsher. But he just shakes his head, his expression dark. “You know what? Forget it. Clean up your mess and stay out of my way.” He coldly says as he turns around and walks back into his shop, leaving you standing there with your hands clenched into fists.
//
After the chaos of the day, you’re sitting in your shop long after closing time, staring blankly at the broken pieces of another pot that lays lifeless on a piece of paper on your counter —a casualty of the earlier mishap. You close your eyes, feeling an overwhelming sense of exhaustion.
Yoongi’s voice echoes in your mind from the other day, when he’d come into your shop to apologize on Jungkook’s behalf after the first pot-breaking incident. “Jungkook’s not a bad guy.” Yoongi had said, his voice calm and reassuring. “He’s just… rough around the edges. Give him time.”
You had wanted to believe him. For a moment, you even thought there might be a chance for you and Jungkook to coexist peacefully. But now? Now you feel stupid for ever entertaining the idea. Jungkook has made it perfectly clear that he has no intention of meeting you halfway.
You sigh, rubbing your face. You didn’t like how this whole thing had been affecting you. It was draining and just sooooo not worth it.
Forcing yourself to get up, you clean up one last time and then proceed to lock up the shop, so that you can finally head home. As you begin your walk home, you notice how the streets are quiet, the faint hum of distant traffic is the only sound accompanying your footsteps.
Your thoughts are heavy, clouded by everything that’s happened. The arguments, the pot-breaking, the way Jungkook’s words today had stung more than you wanted to admit. You wonder if you’re overthinking things, but the lump in your throat says otherwise.
You hug your jacket tighter against the cool night air, eyes focused on the pavement in front of you as you walk briskly towards your house.
//
Jungkook stands outside his shop, ready to lock up he watches you walk down the stairs at your entrance and cross the road, not noticing his presence at all. His chest feels tight, an unfamiliar mix of guilt and something he can’t quite name. He doesn’t like how things escalated today. He doesn’t like the way your voice cracked when you argued with him.
As much as he hates to admit it, he knows he’s been unfair. It wasn’t just about the dirt on the bike or the delivery mishap—it was the way you stood up to him, pointing out how inconsiderate he and his friends had been. You weren’t wrong.
He steps away from his shop, just to get a clearer view of your walking form. He watches intently, observing the way your shoulders are hunched slightly as if the weight of the world rests on them. The sight stirs something protective in him. It’s late, the streets are too quiet, and he knows better than anyone the kind of dangers that can lurk around in the dark.
For a split second, he considers calling out to you so that he can offer you a ride home. But then his pride kicks in, the argument from earlier replaying in his head. His ego won’t let him take that step—not yet.
Instead, Jungkook makes a quick decision. He leaves his bike parked outside his shop, shoves his hands into the pockets of his jacket, and starts following you from a distance. You walk briskly, your mind elsewhere, completely unaware of the quiet footsteps trailing behind you. Jungkook keeps his distance, making sure to stay out of your line of sight.
His gaze scans the dimly lit street, the quiet unnerving even to him. He can’t help but feel protective as he watches your small frame move through the shadowy paths. Every now and then, he glances around, hyper-aware of his surroundings.
He follows you for several blocks, his pace matching yours but always a few steps behind. When you pause to adjust the strap of your bag or check the time on your phone, he stops, leaning casually against a lamppost or pretending to examine something in a shop window.
You finally reach your building, pausing to fumble with your keys at the front door. Jungkook stays back, watching as you disappear inside. Only when he hears the click of the door locking do his shoulders relax slightly. He lets out a long breath, rubbing his nape as he turns to head back towards his shop.
As he walks back, his mind is restless. He thinks he’s ridiculous for following you all the way home just to make sure you reach safely. “Why do you care so much?” he mutters to himself, kicking a loose pebble on the sidewalk. But he already knows the answer, even if he’s not ready to admit it.
When he finally reaches his shop, his bike still waiting where he left it, Jungkook glances once more in the direction of your shop. A strange mixture of guilt and something warmer lingers in his chest. He doesn’t know what to do about it, so he just sighs, climbs onto his bike, and decides to head home.
While he rides back home that night, a quiet resolve settles in his chest—a growing realization that maybe, just maybe, he owes you more than just a silent apology.
<- part 2 // part 4->
#jungkook fic#jungkook#jungkook fanfic#jungkook x reader#jungkook fluff#jungkook angst#jungkook smut#jeon jungkook#bts#bts jungkook#bts fic#enemies to lovers#jungkook fanfiction
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A New Face (Pt.4) | Home
pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader
summary: after eight months, you and Tara are closer than ever. Her playful texts pull you away from a project, and you spend the night cuddling, reassuring her you're not going anywhere.
word count: 981
a/n: hi guys this is literally so short bc I didn't want to ruin it + I'm already working on another part for who hurt you. this can read as a oneshot by itself hence the extra title; anyways I hope u guys like it, any feedback is appreciated and I'm proud of myself for figuring out how to do this collage thing below xoxo
It’s been 8 months since you and Tara went on your first date and started dating; since then, you’ve shared countless memories, learned more about each other than you ever expected, and your bond only has deepened, making you both excited to see what the future holds together. There’s been a mix of growth, fun and intimate moments; and although there’s a few challenges, there’s always playfulness and banter in the relationship.
Tonight, you’re focused on finishing your project, eager to submit it at least a day before the deadline so you won’t have to rush and send in poor quality work. But then, a ping on your phone distracts you.
Tara <3
can you come over? i miss you and I’m bored
Sent at 11.45pm
You
sorry babe, I can’t. i have a project due in a few days
Sent at 11.47pm
Tara <3
guess i’ll just sit in bed..alone,cold
all by myself
w nobody to cuddle with. allll alone
You
oh shut up I’m putting my shoes on
Sent at 11.55pm
This usual banter happens often. Honestly, you didn’t mind how clingy Tara is, you knew what the younger Carpenter has been through. She decided to let you know about her past after a month of dating, with what happened to her and the core four a year ago; and you comforted her with cuddles and kisses with soft whispers for being brave and having to go through all of that.
It’s almost midnight, but the way Tara’s playful messages cut through the tranquil night, it’s hard not to smile. You know her well enough to recognize when she’s pretending to be dramatic—and when she’s genuinely feeling a little lonely or vulnerable.The little banter between the two of you has become a ritual, a comfort. But beneath it all, there’s that deep understanding of each other’s lives, pasts, and fears. You know Tara’s history, and you know she’s been through a lot. You could never understand how anyone would willingly put her in harms way. A single glance from her could make you melt into a puddle, as if the weight of the world disappeared in the softness of her eyes, leaving you both grounded and utterly undone at the same time.
You know that when you get to her place, all the tension in your body will melt away. As you head out, a small part of you can’t help but reflect on how far you’ve both come in just eight months—how much you’ve both grown together. Every little moment, where you can simply drop everything and be there for each other, makes all the difference.
Tara’s got a special place in your heart, and tonight, it’s all about making her feel seen, heard, and loved. For so long, the idea of "home" felt like a distant concept, something that belonged to a life you couldn’t fully reclaim after your parents passed. You thought you’d never feel settled again, that kind of deep connection, the feeling of being truly seen and understood. But with Tara, it’s different. It’s effortless, the way she makes you feel both grounded and free. Her presence fills spaces in your heart you didn’t know were empty.
As you may your way to her place, a soft smile tugs at the corner of your lips. It’s funny how simply being with her, in her space, cuddling under the blankets, or sharing small moments of laughter, feels more like home than anything else ever has. When you knock on her door, she’s already standing there, as if she already felt your presence from a block away; wrapped in a blanket, her hair falling messily around her face, and that familiar twinkle of mischief in her eyes. “You’re late,” she teases, her voice a soft mixture of playfulness and a hint of relief. Ever since you both got together, Tara’s been more anxious, fearing that Ghostface might pop out and take you from her. She’s expressed her concerns to you, and you’ve made sure to constantly remind her that you aren’t going anywhere. “I’m not going anywhere, Tara— you’re stuck with me, no matter what.” Besides, you don’t mind constantly texting her and sending pictures of whatever you’re up to.
“Lay with me? Please?” You fold almost instantly, allowing her to pull you into her bedroom while making sure to keep quiet, since Sam is asleep. Just as you settle onto her bed beside her, Tara does her little grabby hands and you pull her against you, her legs over yours and hugged your torso, resting her head and smiling into your shoulder, inhaling your scent as she had always associated you with safety. You smiled fondly, caressing her thigh with your hand before leaning forward to place a kiss on her forehead. Tara’s eyes fluttered at the gesture, and you can feel your heart soar at how adorable she is.
“I love you, so, so much. Did you know that?” You whispered close to her forehead. The warmth of your whisper sent a gentle shiver down her spine. “I know, but I don’t mind hearing you say it again, and again..” You chuckled softly at her statement.
“I don’t mind it either, because I’ll keep saying it; every day if I have to” You smiled softly, the words lingering between you.
Before you could say more, she pressed her lips to yours, soft and gentle—the familiar taste of strawberry from her lip balm making you sigh in content. The kiss was warm, comforting, like coming home. When she pulled back, her eyes fluttered open, a shy smile tugging at her corner of her lips. “I love you more,” she whispered, her breath mingling with yours.
It was safe to say that you didn’t manage to finish your project anytime soon. But with Tara in your arms, you wouldn’t have it any other way.
--------------------
a/n: i hope this is enough for ya'll bc i literally couldn't figure out a way to continue without it being too draggy and boring. fyi 'who hurt you' pt 2 should be coming out in 2 days hopefully idk AND idk how this taglist thing works so lmk if you'd be interested in it
taglist: @bella423
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Of Butterflies and Backstrokes Part 13
It's a race to the finish line as we are nearing the end. I am quite proud of this little story. I started posting the weekend the Olympics ended and continued until almost Thanksgiving!
The final two chapters will come out tomorrow and Friday.
In this we have Steve learning progress is not a straight line, Dr. Hughes is brilliant, and Eddie's dreams come true.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12
~
The year just flew by, with Steve and Eddie working in the off season. Andy and Haley called them crazy.
“You’ll only burn him out,” Haley said, “then he won’t make it to the trials, let alone the Olympics, Steve.”
“I know you think this gung ho approach is going to do the job,” Andy agreed, “but it’s just not sustainable. You’ll wear him out before it’s competition time again.”
Steve looked back and forth between them in open mouthed shock. “You guys honestly think I would take advice from Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum? Fuck off.”
They were flabbergasted that he would speak to them that way, as if they hadn’t spent the last year mocking both Eddie and Steve’s progress in the pool.
Steve just shook his head and walked away. He was doing much better now. He could get in the pool up to his waist and duck under the lane divisions, but he couldn’t put his head under the water. He had even tried kneeling into it, but he had jumped out of the water so fast, he left a huge wake behind him.
It took him two more weeks after that to even put his toe in the water again.
He had never been so disappointed in himself. Not for him. Oh no. But for the look of pity on Eddie’s face when he turned around after having booked it to the lifeguard tower.
Dr. Hughes had admonished Steve for feeling that way. “Your recovery is not predicated on how Eddie feels about it. And I highly doubt it was pity, Steve. You know Eddie better than that. He was concerned for you. As I’m sure Robin was too.”
Steve was forced to acknowledge that he just wanted Eddie to be proud of his progress.
“Steve,” Dr. Hughes said gently, “we’re all proud of your progress. You can go into the water all the way up to your chest. That is a long way from freaking out over putting your foot in the water.”
He took a deep breath and let the words of encouragement slide over him like waves in the ocean. Oh how he wished the pool was just the ocean. Dark, fathomless and deep. Unknowable and therefore conquerable.
He explained the feeling to Dr. Hughes.
“The ocean doesn’t bother you?” he asked tilting his head to the side.
Steve frowned for a moment and then shook his head. “It’s not clear like pool water. I can’t see the bottom and know how far it is for me to drown.”
“Oh.”
A smile spread over Dr. Hughes face. “I’ve got the best idea.”
~
“What are these?” Steve said pulling out the weird goggles.
“They’re for tanning booths,” Eddie explained with a grin. “They’re so you can’t see.”
Steve frowned at them for a moment. “What am I not supposed to see?”
Eddie just continued to grin without saying a word. He put them over Steve’s eyes and led him through the halls. As they did, Steve started to hear waves crashing and the sound of gentle breeze.
“What the hell?” he asked, but Eddie continued to lead him on without a word.
He led Steve to the edge of something and that’s when he spoke.
“Just dive in,” he murmured. “It’s okay, we’re here for you.”
Steve was about to ask who else was there, but it didn’t matter. He trusted Eddie not have anyone there that would make fun of him. So he dived into the water and just swam. It felt so good to just let himself go. To just swim properly for the first time since the accident.
Then he touched a wall. He let his body sink and hit solid floor. The water only came up to his chest. But there was no way they would have let him dive in the endless pool or the kiddie pool.
He tore off the goggles and looked around. He was on the other side of the pool from the door.
“What the–”
On the side of the pool were Robin, Eddie, and surprisingly Dr. Hughes. Dr. Hughes was sitting in one of the folding chairs Steve often sat in during staff swims, Robin was standing next to him with her phone held out, and Eddie was crouched by the edge in case Steve panicked and needed to pulled out of the pool quickly.
He let out a startled laugh, pushing his hair out of his face. “That was amazing!”
“You did it, pretty boy!” Eddie shouted. “You swam in the big pool.”
The sound of the waves and wind cut out and Robin put away her phone with a grin.
He waded over to the edge of the pool to where Eddie was crouched. “So I did. Was this your idea, Dr. Hughes?” he asked, looking around Eddie to the seated man.
He smiled fondly. “It was. We’ll slowly build you up to not needing the sound, then not needing the goggles. The brain for all its complexities can be easily tricked.”
Steve laughed out right. “That’s brilliant!” His smile turned into a grin as he looked up at Eddie.
“Uh oh...”
But before he could get out of arms reach, Steve grabbed him by the arm and yanked him into the water. Laughing and splashing around.
Robin turned to Dr. Hughes and murmured, “Thank you. I haven’t seen him this happy in a long time.”
“It’s my pleasure,” Dr. Hughes said. “He really wants to get better. To overcome his fears and that makes him...hmm...I’m not sure easier would be the right word. More teachable, perhaps.”
“Despite all his dad’s faults and trust me he had many,” Robin said solemnly watching her best friend, “Clint could tell Steve loved the water. Like really loved the water and he did everything he could to make that happen for Steve. It’s just too bad the bastard got so wrapped up in winning he forgot that.”
Dr. Hughes nodded. Steve was happiest in the water and if he could help him get that back even just a little, then Dr. Hughes considered it a success.
~
The Olympic trials had finally arrived and Steve was nervous as hell. Not only because Eddie was going against Jason Carver to be on the team and Billy being there, but because Bob Newby. He was one of the best and he was worried Eddie wouldn’t live up to his exacting standards.
Thankfully Bob came over right before the meet started to chat.
“I’ve been hearing some really good things about your boy, Eddie,” Bob said after they exchanged pleasantries.
Steve grinned. “He’s good, Bob. Like proper talented, good.”
“I can’t wait to see him,” he replied with a nod. “I was hoping to see another name on this roster, was a little sad you weren’t on it.”
Steve blushed. “If I felt better about that damn pool behind you, I probably would have. But I just can’t. Not right now.”
Bob gave his elbow a squeeze. “I feel that. I’m just glad that they offered the coach position to me first. Their second choice was Billy fucking Hargrove.”
Steve leaned his head forward in surprise and disgust. “Are you kidding me? He barely medalled, why would they want him?”
“I don’t know,” Bob said, shaking his head. “It doesn’t make sense.”
Bribery. That would be the only reason for it. Straight up Olympic bribery, like fucking Salt Lake City didn’t blow the cover on that particular can of worms.
“Well, it’s good to see you again,” Steve said. “I’ve got go get my boy ready.”
“We’ll talk more after the meet,” Bob said.
Robin walked up to him and put her hand on his shoulder. “Eddie is going to do just fine.”
Jason, who had been walking by, scoffed. “Your boy is throwing up chunks in the locker rooms.”
Steve rolled his eyes. “Like your beloved coach wasn’t doing the same thing at the last Olympic trials and he still made it. So fuck off.” He waved his hands at Jason, who stomped off with a scowl.
Robin smirked. “He was throwing up because someone told him one of the other athletes was gay.”
Steve smirked back. “I’ll just go check in on Eddie. I’ll be right back.”
He walked into the looker room and everyone started pointing out the direction of the hurling. They knew who Steve was and they sure as hell knew who he was coaching this year.
“Eds?” Steve murmured walking up to the stall.
“Fuck man,” Eddie murmured. “Me and my band play to actual fucking crowds and I’ve never been this nervous before.”
“That’s because you’ve never had the chance to be seen on the world stage before,” Steve said soothingly. “I think you’d be throwing up before a performance if you were told that there was a talent scout in the audience who if they liked your stuff would be giving you a contract.”
Eddie stopped to consider that. “Oh yeah. Okay. I see your point.” He stood up and opened the door to the stall. “You gotta level with me coach, am I good enough?”
Steve took his head in his hands and pressed their foreheads together. “You are. You are one of the best swimmers I’ve ever seen and you have got this in the bag.”
Eddie gripped Steve’s wrists and nodded. “I’ve got this.”
He opened his eyes and saw how close they were. It would take absolutely nothing to press their lips together. Just tilt his head up.
Then a locker door slammed Steve jumped back, dropping his hands from Eddie’s face. His own face was burning.
“Steve...” Eddie murmured, holding out his hand to him. “It’s okay.”
“I want to so bad,” Steve muttered back. “But I’m coach, I can’t.”
Eddie smiled. “If I make it to the Olympics, you won’t be. Bob will. So just think about that for a moment.”
Steve huffed out a laugh. “You’re a menace, Eddie Munson.”
“You love it,” Eddie said, leaning into his space.
Steve playfully pushed him off. “Go blow away all the judges, rockstar.”
Eddie saluted and led the way out of the locker rooms, out to the pool, a fond Steve following behind.
~
The stands were stacked to the gills of all their friends and family. Max wasn’t trying out for the Olympics this year, opting to wait until she was older before she tried out. Steve and Susan were very proud of her making that decision for herself. She would be sixteen next time and they, and Robin thought it would the best for her.
It was going to be a crazy week. Having over a thousand athletes all vying for the same fifty spots. And a lot of those spots would be filled by the same people across the board.
Steve wasn’t sure what was worse: for first and watching everyone else beat your time or go last and be forced to watch all the amazing athletes go before you. Well Eddie was about to find out.
He was in the first heat on the first day for his first event and most of his heats were also on day one. Which thankfully, Jason was not. Jason was in the middle of the week and had been complaining about it to everyone who would listen longer than five minutes.
Chrissy Cunningham was at the end of the week. The first heat on the last day.
Steve gave Eddie’s shoulder a squeeze.
“Show the country who’s the best, Eddie,” he murmured. His hand slid down Eddie’s arm and he gave his hand a squeeze too.
Eddie smiled brightly and then tucked his hair under his cap. He padded over to his podium and started warming up his limbs. The whistle blew and he pulled down his goggles and got up on the podium. He crouched on it backward, still as can be, waiting for that shot.
BANG!
And Eddie arced into the pool backward, the strong lines of his body sending butterflies to the base of his rib cage and his heart rate rabbited.
Eddie was beautiful. There was no denying that. The last two years had taken him from a scrawny teen to a whipcord strength. His tattoos were beautifully on display and Steve let out a shuddering breath.
Robin took his hand and they watched as Eddie cut threw the water like a hot knife through butter. He was exquisite.
It was nerve-wracking every time he went into the water, but every time Eddie emerged from the water in the top three if not the top spot.
They watched and waited the whole week as others did the same.
When the results were tallied up at the end of the week, Eddie, Jason, and Chrissy were all going to the Olympics in London.
Eddie came bounding up to Steve. “Better get packing for London, pretty boy. I’m going to the Olympics!”
Steve laughed as he spun them around. “All right, all right!” he cried, laughing. “I’ll come watch you compete!”
“Yay!”
Steve let out a shuddering breath. He wasn’t sure if he could handle going to the Olympics and watching other people live his dream. But he’d do it. He’d do it for Eddie.
He’d do anything for Eddie.
~
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Please tell me about your Eminence in Shadow!SY AU, that sounds really interesting and badass
Okay, so, in case you don’t know “Eminence in Shadow” is a reincarnation, isekai anime where a guy named Cid Kageno ends up in a world with magic. He likes playing as “Background Character A” by day and being “The Eminence in Shadow” by night. I was watching this anime and while I was watching, I felt like Cid and Shen Yuan were a lot alike. (I’ve only watched the anime which only has two seasons, so anything beyond that in the manga I have no idea about)
Now, onto the idea (I og had this written out as a prompt and then thought, huh, this might actually be fun to write, so just…didn’t post the prompt. I think I’ll come back later and post an actual prompt for this though. But, I'm literally just copy/pasting what I already wrote for this.)
Imagine, Shen Yuan transmigrates into Background Character A in PIDW, and, just like Cid, throws himself into the role. He just wants to get through the plot without drawing attention to himself so he can avoid Bingge's ire. But! But! This is Shen Yuan who has always dreamed of transmigrating into this type of story. How can he just pass up the chance of becoming a cool cultivator??? He can't, that's how! So then, how does one remain Background Character A while also being a Mysterious And Cool Cultivator? By acting out his role as Background Character A during the day and growing his power to become a cool cultivator in secret! That's how!
He'll spend his days idling and playing his role as Just Some Guy to perfection, but in secret, he'll hone his cultivator abilities, slay monsters, study demonic beasts, and live out his cultivator fantasy! He transmigrates early, maybe as a baby, and uses all his knowledge of reading PIDW and other cultivation stories to work out how to cultivate in secret. He won't interfere with the plot, making sure he blends into the background so as not to draw attention to himself, and will be able to survive the merging of the realms with his cultivation abilities when that time eventually comes.
But, of course, this is Shen Yuan we're talking about. He stumbles his way into trouble and wifebeams people. He plays up his Mysterious And Cool Cultivator act like Shadow/Cid does and ends up amassing his own Shadow Garden (harem of highly trained women dedicated to Shadow and his cause, for those of you who haven't seen Eminence in Shadow) but the gay xianxia version. We're gonna get Zhuzhi-Lang, Liu Qingge, ect. But, just like Shadow/Cid, Shen Yuan does not realize he has amassed this massive harem who would literally do anything for him and have created an entire clandestine organization (that's really more of an empire) with him as the head. He thinks they're all just Really Good Friends who are helping him live out his Mysterious And Cool Cultivator dreams.
Just like Shadow/Cid bullshits the Cult of Diablo, Shen Yuan is gonna bullshit his own stuff. And, just like with Shadow/Cid's stuff, Shen Yuan's words are gonna turn out to be true. I'm thinking he ends up uncovering all the corruption and drama surrounding the Old Palace Master and Huan Hua Palace. It'll probably end up being a whole big thing and once they start digging, they just find more and more sects, companies, people, etc. involved in this. Part of the corruption and wrong-doings they find, is a lot of provoking of demons. Shen Yuan, of course, knows none of this, and always ends up on the outskirts of the investigations bullshitting some Wise Nonsense that has everyone in awe before kicking the Bad Guy's butt, not knowing what's Really Going On.
He remains oblivious to all the Drama going on and what he's leaving in his wake. One thing he is absolutely certain he must do is Keep A Low Profile and remain Background Character A, so all his Mysterious And Cool Cultivator adventures are done in secret and he makes sure that his version of Shadow Garden knows that This Is SECRET!! Do Not Tell. shhhh.
Just like in Eminence in Shadow, Shen Yuan's harem (that he still doesn't know is his harem) venture out on their own to gather more people to add to the harem join their cause.
Shen Yuan had to have met Liu Qingge before he entered CQMS. Maybe Shen Yuan's Background Family is from the same village/city the Liu Family is from and so they grew up in the same social circle. When Liu Qingge eventually goes to join CQMS Shen Yuan sighs and thinks What a good guy, playing with me all this time. Now he's off to be a Great Cultivator himself. I hope we can still see each other again sometime. Not at all knowing that Liu Qingge has the BIGGEST crush on him and once in CQMS is trying to recruit more people to join Shen Yuan's harem organization. He probably convinces at least half of the future Qing generation in time as well as many disciples from various peaks. It helps when on a couple night-hunts Shen Yuan, in Mysterious And Cool Cultivator mode, showed up out of nowhere and solved the problem like a Wise Immortal and effectively wifebeaming all present.
For Zhuzhi-Lang, Shen Yuan definitely found him hurt and cooed over him, nursing him back to health. Eventually Zhuzhi-Lang had to return to the Demon Realm and Tianlang-jun, but tells Tianlang-jun about the Nice Human Cultivator who took care of him. Tianlang-jun clocks Zhuzhi-Lang's crush immediately, and tells him that he can go woo his human all he wants as long as it doesn't interfere with work, and also, he would like to meet this human.
Shen Yuan nearly has a heart attack when the DEMON EMPEROR (and Luo Binghe's father!! Ahhh!) shows up at his house to invite him to a picnic (thankfully no one else saw this so his cover as Background Character A is still in check). He doesn't turn him down though, that would be stupid, Tianlang-jun could kill him in a heartbeat if he offended him. So, he goes on the picnic. Tianlang-jun thanks him for taking such good care of his nephew, and Zhuzhi-Lang is a blushing mess the entire time. Tianlang-jun as being Tianlang-jun keeps trying to set Shen Yuan and Zhuzhi-lang up. Shen Yuan laughs it off. Clearly Tianlang-jun is quite the jokester and eternally flamboyant (and you know how Tianlang-jun is), and thinks all his suggestive comments are just his weird sense of humor. Tianglang-jun is most definitely trying to get both Zhuzhi-Lang and himself into Shen Yuan's pants. Shen Yuan is, of course, oblivious to this.
After the picnic Tianlang-jun and Zhuzhi-Lang leave but have secured invitation from Shen Yuan to return as they please so long as they keep it hush hush. Zhuzhi-Lang will actually visit a lot and spend a lot of time in tiny snake form curled up around Shen Yuan's arm under his sleeve or in his robes. Shen Yuan idly pets and strokes him, feeling the cool texture of his scales without thinking about it. When he does realize, Zhuzhi-Lang tells him that it's fine and he can keep petting him as much as he wants. Sometimes people will see Shen Yuan, Background Character A, with a green snake on his arm, or in his robes, or draped across his shoulders, but never really think too much about it, thinking he just has a normal pet snake.
Since this initial meeting, there are a lot more snakes around the Shen Estate, and Shen Yuan's parents tell him to get it under control, thinking that his pet snake is attracting them. Shen Yuan apologizes and says he will. Zhuzhi-Lang then tells his snake underlings to hide better. They were there to make sure Shen Yuan was safe, not get him in trouble.
When Zhuzhi-Lang is back in the Demon Realm he talks about Shen Yuan. He also knows about the Mysterious And Cool Cultivator thing and is also trying to recruit demons to his harem cause. Tianlang-jun knows about this and is fine with it. He's long decided that he's gonna get Shen Yuan into his bed family service and so him having his own underlings and support of demons would only make it easier to do so down the road.
Despite Shen Yuan's meddling, the Tianlang-Jun and Su Xiyan thing still happens and the Old Palace Master stuff leading to Tianlang-jun being sealed. Even with Shen Yuan and his harem friends taking down branches of corruption, they weren't able to take down the Old Palace Master (not yet at least). So, that whole Fiasco happens. Shen Yuan feels guilty about it. Tianlang-jun and Zhuzhi-Lang had become his friends and he knew what was coming. He was confused though because Tianlang-jun did not seem like he was trying to take over the Human Realm and that was why he was sealed. Maybe the System finally decided to pop in and say he couldn't interfere in it, and that some things just had to happen for plot reasons (like with the Endless Abyss). Or, Maybe Shen Yuan didn't see it coming, thinking that he had somehow influenced Tianlang-jun to not want to invade the Human Realm, not knowing that it had always been a lie and set up, the truth never being revealed in PIDW.
Zhuzhi-Lang flees to Shen Yuan, hurt from the attack, and, of course, Shen Yuan accepts him even in his half snake, half humanoid form. It took him a moment, but then he recognized it was Zhuzhi-Lang by his eyes and tended his wounds (again). Zhuzhi-Lang tells him the story of what he and Tianlang-jun believe to be true. By the time he's well enough to do that though, Shen Yuan isn't able to do anything about Su Xiyan's situation. She's already long vanished. Shen Yuan also decides that once Bailu Forest isn't under such careful observation after Tianlang-Jun's sealing, he'll go see the man with Zhuzhi-Lang to see what his state is. Despite it all and Tianlang-jun's...unique personality, Shen Yuan still considers him a friend and wants to help where he can.
It, unfortunately, takes a while for things to cool down around Bailu Mountain and then again to find a way to Tianlang-jun's prison without setting off any alarms. By the time Shen Yuan finally sees Tianlang-jun again, years have passed. He's alive, but not in a great state what with being crushed under a mountain and all. Shen Yuan is in awe of the resilience of Heavenly Demons. When Tianlang-jun sees Shen Yuan he's like "ah, if it's the only human who hasn't betrayed me. What brings you to this place?" all casually. Shen Yuan actually brought him some trashy books and food that he knew Tianlang-jun would like and Tianlang-jun is overjoyed by it. You wouldn't even think he was being squished under a mountain with how happy he was.
Shen Yuan works with Zhuzhi-Lang to figure out how to get Tianlang-jun out, but only after he makes Tianlang-jun promise not to slaughter everyone (probably saying some Wise Nonsense, but is really just trying to get Tianlang-jun to not obliterate humanity). Tianlang-jun pouts, but does. Shen Yuan appeases him by getting him more trashy books and human paraphernalia. During this time, Shen Yuan mentions (intentionally) that he heard rumors that Su Xiyan may be pregnant—Shen Yuan doesn’t think Tianlang-jun’s as interested as he should be in this development; this is Luo Binghe after all—and also that he thinks there’s more to this than they originally thought. Tianlang-jun’s attention is then fully shifted from killing all humans except Shen Yuan, to figuring out what’s going on because hm, you’re right, A-Yuan, this doesn’t make much sense.
With Shen Yuan also working on how to get Tianlang-jun out, Zhuzhi-Lang is able to go back to the Demon Realm to keep things in order. At least to an extent. They keep the fact that they’re trying to free Tianlang-jun a secret bc you never know where there are eyes and ears. Shen Yuan helps Zhuzhi-Lang keep his more humanoid appearance since Tianlang-jun isn’t able to, so that helps Zhuzhi-Lang keep the demons under control, but doesn’t help a whole lot. Things still kinda fall apart there. Shen Yuan’s harem organization is still holding up there and work in secret despite the shakiness in the Demon Realm and the demons in it even use the political uncertainty to their advantage to gain more power.
Maybe Shen Yuan figures out how to make the Sun and Moon Dew Mushroom compatible with demonic qi or maybe he finds another solution. But, either way, he gets Tianlang-jun’s soul out from under the mountain. There is just one caveat of this new body. It must grow from infanthood again at a normal rate. They grow the body, and then Tianlang-jun’s soul pops over to it when it’s a baby, freeing him from his prison. Since the Demon Realm has grown unstable and Tianlang-jun is in a vulnerable state, they decide that the best and safest course of action is for Shen Yuan to keep Tianlang-jun in his care. So, Shen Yuan returns home with baby Tianlang-jun claiming the baby’s his. What better place to hide than in Background Family A, after all? Shen Yuan’s been doing it for decades at this point and thinks it’s the perfect way of living. Thankfully, Tianlang-jun, despite being a baby, does still know how to control his demonic qi, and is able to hide it, making himself appear like a normal human baby.
When the rest of Shen Yuan’s harem Friends find out about “his baby” they’re all seething in jealousy wondering who the mother is. (gender neutral use of the term “mother” here. That harem is definitely trying to figure out how to have Shen Yuan’s baby or get Shen Yuan to have their baby) They also start seething in jealousy over the baby itself bc Shen Yuan is doting on him to the max. He’s holding and rocking him, soothing him, patting him, feeding him, cooing over him, ect. Shen Yuan just can’t get over how cute baby Tianlang-jun is, and is wondering what baby Bingge looked like. (By this point, Binghe’s already entered CQMS)
Every time Liu Qingge leaves the sect to go on a night-hunt, he always stops by the Shen Estate to see Shen Yuan and drop off some monster head/part for him. Shen Yuan always greets him with a smile and thanks him, but asks if dropping the bloody carcass in the entry hall was really necessary. Who’s gonna clean this all up, Liu-didi, hm? Be nicer to the servants! Don’t make unnecessary work for them! The first time Liu Qingge sees the baby, he’s doing this. Shen Yuan comes out to meet him with the baby in his arms, and the sight of Shen Yuan holding a baby, smiling at him, and welcoming him back makes his brain blank for a long moment.
Shen Yuan either is super vague about the baby!Tianlang-jun’s mom or has a super detailed background story ready to go. It’s a bit of a minor scandal in the way that all bastards are, but Background Family Father A is happy to get a grandson from Shen Yuan.
As baby!Tianlang-jun grows up, he gets super smug about having Shen Yuan as his dad and attention. He’s good at playing his role as a little kid around others, but then in private just acts like his usual self, lounging around like the emperor he is, reading scandalous smut, and saying all his suggestive and lucious things. When the members of Shen Yuan’s harem Shen Yuan’s friends show up, he always plays up the act and gets Shen Yuan to let him sit in his lap, pet his hair, snuggle against his side, or something. Shen Yuan’s harem friends swear that the kid knows what he’s doing, but can only chug vinegar in silence bc it’s Shen Yuan’s son. Tianlang-jun is loving having Shen Yuan as his dad, being the only one to call him “daddy” or “baba” or “a-die” or such and has Shen Yuan curled around his finger with his cuteness. (He’s long stopped trying to get into Shen Yuan’s pants and is much happier being his adoptive son. He is still trying to set up Shen Yuan and Zhuzhi-Lang though.)
Because of Shen Yuan’s interference, Liu Qingge either doesn’t have that deadly qi deviation, or is stable enough that when Shen Qingqiu tries to help him with it, is actually able to help. So, Liu Qingge lives.
When Luo Bingge is finally out of the Endless Abyss and is working his way through conquering the Demon Realm, he starts to slowly find out about this vast and secret organization that’s in control of so much. Digging deeper, he’s able to uncover that it spans into the Human Realm and includes some well respected and high class cultivators too. Luo Bingge tries to wriggle out who the leader is, but everyone is so tightlipped and elusive that he’s actually having trouble finding info out. It drives him mad. Xin Mo is also capitalizing on this obsession. Luo Bingge can’t be the indisputable Emperor of all if there’s some shadow organization pulling the strings behind the scenes. Shen Yuan, however, is blissfully unaware that he’s caught the attention of Luo Bingge, still thinking he’s successfully flown under the radar, and tells his harem Friends to avoid getting on Luo Binghe’s bad side and to help him however they can, hoping that this will get those that would have died as canon fodder in Bingge’s rise to greatness to be able to survive it. This just drives Luo Bingge even more up the wall bc he doesn’t know why this secret organization is deciding to back him in everything and so he doesn’t know their motives and so he can’t use those motives to his advantage and so he doesn’t have absolute control!
When he does finally get a member of the harem organization to talk to him, they just say “Our master is wise. He sees potential in you. Do not squander our master’s good will.” because when they asked why Luo Binghe, Shen Yuan said something like “I believe he’s destined for greatness. I want to see the world he creates.” or “He has great promise. I want to see what he does.” all sage like while internally panicking, hoping that that was vague enough so they don’t continue to ask why he wants to help this random demon that he’s never met. This answer does not help to assuage Bingge’s unease at this secret organization and their secret leader, and only makes it worse bc how does this man know Luo Binghe well enough to know his POTENTIAL!?!?! But he can’t ask the person more bc they vanished from their cell after Luo Bingge was called away on urgent business. And, they also somehow have a way to counteract his blood parasites. Bingge is seriously losing it over this. (He doesn’t know about Zhuzhi-Lang and Tianlang-jun, and I’m sure they both know a lot more about Heavenly Demon abilities and how to counteract them than Bingge does)
Shen Yuan and his harem friends end up leading Bingge through the Demon and Human Realms with mind games and wild goose chases, every adventure leading to Bingge gaining more power. Shen Yuan eventually learns that he’s caught Bingge’s eye and hopes that this all will show that Shen Yuan is a friend and not a foe. See! He’s helping you gain power, Bingge!! We’re not enemies!!
Luo Bingge is not put at ease by this and every encounter with the harem organization is just leaving him more frazzled. Eventually Shen Yuan and Luo Bingge meet on one of these crazy adventures when Shen Yuan had to get involved, Shen Yuan in his Mysterious And Cool Cultivator act, and disguised so that even a Heavenly Demon and the protagonist won’t be able to recognize him. (Zhuzhi-Lang and Tianlang-jun helped him test his disguise out) Shen Yuan spouts more of his Wise Nonsense at Luo Binghe to make Luo Binghe see that they’re on Bingge’s side before vanishing without a trace. After every time, Luo Bingge screams and levels some stuff in frustration. He still doesn’t know what these people are after! How are they so elusive!?
Because of all this, Luo Binghe’s plans to infiltrate Huan Hua Palace and destroy Cang Qiong Mountain Sect are put on hold. He doesn’t know exactly how far this secret organization's power reaches, but he can’t go in blind with such a big power behind the scenes. He does know that the secret organization has reaches in CQMS, but doesn’t know how deep (Liu Qingge’s been hard at work there and all of Bai Zhan is under Shen Yuan’s command along with over half of the other peaks. Shang Qinghua is freaking out because he didn’t write this!!! Who the fuck is that guy!?!? Why is he rivaling Bingge!?!?! And, WHY IS HE WINNING!?!?!? Bingge’s supposed to reign supreme, not some rando he never even wrote! He’s wondering if he maybe wrote out this idea while high as fuck and delusional with sleep depravation which is why he doesn’t remember it, but he knows he wouldn’t do that even at his most addled bc Bingge is supposed to be unrivaled. That’s why he scrapped the Tianlang-jun vs Bingge idea.)
Bingge gets so caught up in paranoia over this secret organization and not knowing whose a part of it and who's not and what they really want that he’s not negating Xin Mo with dual cultivation bc are the women part of the organization? Are they in on it? What do they want? What do they gain by sleeping with me? So his control is slipping.
It’s also during this time that the harem organization start getting closer to Huan Hua Palace and the Old Palace Master. Their progress is helped when Shen Yuan, during a friendly get together with one of the high ranking members of his harem organization his Friends, he accidentally slips that he’s wondering the validity of the Old Palace Master’s claims of Tianlang-jun wanting to invade the Human Realm and the story of what’s really going on there. The harem organization takes his words as Shen Yuan telling them to look into this matter, so they set their sights fully on Huan Hua Palace and the Old Palace Master.
Not long later, they uncover the Truth, and clear Tianlang-jun’s name, dragging the Old Palace Master’s through the mud. Tianlang-jun, hearing about this, swoops in and kills a whole bunch of Huan Hua Palace high ranking members and the Old Palace Master along with a bunch of other powerful people involved in the cover up and mess. The organization, at seeing the gruesome slaughter, are at first horrified bc who has this kind of power to slip past the organization's defenses and do this? But, then someone spots Tianlang-jun slipping away, recognizes him as Shen Yuan’s son, and concludes that Shen Yuan was the one to do this. Later, at another friendly get together with Shen Yuan, one of them vaguely mentions the slaughter, subtly asking if Shen Yuan knew of it and even more subtly inquiring if he was the one to do it. Shen Yuan, knowing that Tianlang-jun was the one to do it and just got finished burning the bloody robes Tianlang-jun had come back in after reprimanding him to be more careful what if someone saw you???, doesn’t pick up on this at all and is instead trying to divert attention away from them, says something vague back which only confirms in the organizations mind that Shen Yuan was the one who did it. With their firm belief that Shen Yuan knows what’s best, even if they initially thought the execution was horrific, they believe that they had deserved it if Shen Yuan would resort to such tactics.
The organization sweeps in and helps clean the mess up, CQMS and other sects and businesses affiliated with Shen Yuan and the organization distribute Huan Hua Palace’s wealth and territory, gaining more influence. Luo Binghe hears about all this, and poking around some more, finds that the organization was behind this. The fact that this clandestine organization was able to take down such a well established and reputable sect like Huan Hua Palace only sets him more on edge about them. If they can do that, they could also dethrone him too, couldn’t they?? Just because they haven't outright opposed him yet doesn’t mean they won’t. He cannot trust such a powerful organization.
Eventually, Bingge tracks down Shen Yuan and, in a great show like in Hua Yue City, Shen Yuan has to pull the “self-destruct for you” card to stop Bingge’s qi deviation while saying more Wise And Meaningful Nonsense that has Bingge realizing that this guy was really on his side. This entire time, this guy has had unwavering faith in him and his abilities. This entire time, he’s had his whole organization working to help him in any way possible simply because of that. That this entire time, his only motive was to see what Bingge would become, see the world he creates, and for him to be happy. And now he can’t even do that. Because he’s dead. For Luo Binghe’s sake!!
And, Binghe…
Binghe just can’t take it. He hasn’t had someone so staunchly on his side since his mother died when he was little. He starts bawling. He can’t help it. He hasn’t cried in so long, and he just can’t stop the tears. They just keep coming, a heartbreaking wail from his mouth, while he hugs the dead body to his chest.
Other members of Shen Yuan’s harem organization that watched the whole thing stay standing around this scene, some tears falling from their eyes too, not able to believe that Shen Yuan is really dead. Liu Qingge, and others, are getting ready to fight Luo Binghe for Shen Yuan’s body, but before more fighting can break out, Tianlang-jun struts in with Zhuzhi-Lang following meekly behind him. The harem organization members that don’t know about the truth are shocked and scared bc they were supposed to get Shen Yuan’s son away from this chaos and protect him from Luo Binghe. But, Tianlang-jun (whose like a teenager or something by this point) just ignores everyone’s shouts and deftly evades their protective grabs for him, waking straight up to the still bawling Binghe.
See, Tianlang-jun is not nearly as oblivious as Shen Yuan is—he’s the exact opposite really—so he clocked Luo Binghe starting to fall for Shen Yuan a while ago, captivated by the challenge and mind games that Shen Yuan was playing with him, and is staunchly knowing that Luo Binghe won’t attack them again.
“Luo Binghe, do not fear,” he starts seriously, then breaks out in a massive grin and gives him a thumbs up, “we have contingency plans in case of death! Many of them!” Because of course they do. They’ve long secured the Sun And Moon Dew Mushroom Seeds and started growing them to Shen Yuan’s body. Tianlang-jun also still has access to the Holy Mausoleum and the Resurrection Chamber. And, with both Shen Yuan’s PIDW knowledge and Tianlang-jun’s and with his resources, they have a vast variety of back up bodies and plans for many different circumstances. It is also revealed that this is Tianlang-jun and literally no one is surprised by this development. Of course Shen Yuan’s son is the last Demon Emperor who’s supposed to be sealed under a mountain. It also made some of them “understand” why Shen Yuan had been so ruthless in his execution of the Old Palace Master and others since they now knew he had a personal interest in the matter.
When Shen Yuan wakes up, he’s immediately tackled by a sobbing Luo Binghe who places a big, fat, wet kiss on his mouth. He tries to reel back, but Luo Binghe has him in a death grip, so he can only stare wide-eyed at Luo Binghe until he pulls back to keep sobbing against his chest. Those of the harem organization that were there were furious at this bc barely any of them have kissed Shen Yuan and they’ve been in his harem service longer!! And, instead of shoving Luo Binghe away, Shen Yuan hugs him closer and pats his head, trying to calm him down, whispering that “No, Binghe, I won’t go anywhere. Yes, I can stay with you. Please don’t apologize, Binghe, this isn’t your fault. I should have done better to make you see I was on your side. You’ve done nothing wrong.” and so on.
After this, Shen Yuan is no longer able to maintain his cover as Background Character A, but that’s okay because he only kept it so he wouldn’t get taken out as Bingge’s rival or something. Since Binghe is on his side, he can live his whole life as a Mysterious And Cool Cultivator, living out his transmigration dreams unhindered! But, Binghe, what do you mean you’re making me Empress of the Demon Realm? I’m a man! I can’t be your Empress! Pick a pretty girl for that if you want one! Tianlang-jun, why are you laughing!? Why are you supporting this!?
Binghe convinces Shen Yuan to marry him by presenting it as a political marriage since Shen Yuan is in control of so much, and if he wants Luo Binghe to be the Emperor of it all (which he knows Shen Yuan wants) then they really need to be married and Shen Yuan made Empress for his reign to be undisputed. Shen Yuan eventually figures it out, and by that point he’s also figuring out that he actually has feelings for a lot of his “friends.” Well, it’s a good thing they all want to marry him too.
There are a long line of weddings after this as so many of Shen Yuan’s friends harem demand to be formally married. Binghe fights for position of First Husband. And wins. Because of course he does.
Luo Binghe has pretty much lost interest in his own harem (which was still pretty small and shrinking when he decided to kick women out for fear they were part of the organization), and becomes nonexistent after his marriage to Shen Yuan. It’s not a problem though, because Tianlang-jun, Shen Yuan, and Shang Qinghua pull resources and knowledge to nullify Xin Mo’s effect on him, so his harem is obsolete anyway.
—Later, once things are settled, probably:
SQH: bro, wtf? You haremed my harem novel.
SY: 🤷
I just feel like Shen Yuan and Cid are so similar. They both curate their role in their new transmigration life, bullshit through so much by spouting wise nonsense, and making people fall for them left and right while being totally oblivious. Shen Yuan just gives Cid levels of oblivious vibes.
I’m not super feeling my svsss fics right now, so I don’t think I’m gonna write on them and just close the tabs for now. Idk. I’ll prbly come back to this later at some point, but 🤷♀️ Hoped you enjoyed this 😊
If anyone has any ideas for what to call sy's version of Shadow Garden, let me know. I was feeling stuck on that part, but like I said, I don't know when I'll come back to this.
#scum villain self saving system#svsss#shen yuan#liu qingge#luo binghe#tianlang jun#zhuzhi lang#the eminence in shadow#svsss au#my wips#my writing#my fanfiction#ask game#wip ask game
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A3! Magazine Interview Translation - B’s-LOG March 2024 [Cover Boys Interview]
The true faces of today’s flourishing young actors
This month’s cover features Hyodo Kumon & Izumida Azami. Azami didn’t have any particular school he wanted to go to. So when Kumon invited over him to Tsukushi High School, the two became senior and junior. The two of them show close they are by walking to and from school and eating lunch on the rooftop together.
We bring you a newly written interview that provides a closer glimpse of their true faces.
*Please read disclaimer on blog
---
Q: Do you have anything that’s been important to you since childhood?
Kumon: Since childhood, huh~? Ah! I thought of something!
Azami: What is it?
Kumon: A home run ball from my favourite baseball player! One day when I was little, I was watching a game at the stadium. While I was cheering as hard as I could, it flew right by me and I caught it.
Azami: Oh, that’s pretty amazin’. That’s not something you can get no matter how many times you go.
Kumon: Exactly! Do you have anything like that, Azami?
Azami: I’ve… always had a cheek brush with me. It’s kinda like my good luck charm.
Kumon: Ooh, right. I know which one you’re talking about!
Azami: Yeah, I’ve used it on you before.
Q: Would you rather be called “cool” or “cute”?
Kumon: I’d definitely be happier being called cool! You’re the same right, Azami!?
Azami: If it’s between those two choices, then I guess it doesn’t really matter what you call me. But I don’t like it when people call me cute to tease me. I hope they'll quit doing that.
Kumon: Now that you mention it, Azuma-san calls you cute every now and then, right? Like it’s so cute and innocent how you immediately get embarrassed whenever you talk about love.
Azami: That’s why I keep tellin’ him to quit it.
Kumon: That doesn’t make you happy?
Azami: Azuma-san is totally just makin’ fun of me.
Kumon: Eh~? I don’t think he’s teasing you though. I think he genuinely means it.
Q: Tell us the truth. Are you actually a scaredy-cat?
Azami: Nah, not really.
Kumon: Me neither! Actually, Azami and I went to a haunted house together the other day!
Azami: Right, Kumon said he wanted to go to one outta nowhere.
Kumon: I thought it’d be interesting so I invited Azami and we went right away. That haunted house was loads of fun!
Azami: Well. I guess I’m glad I went since I could use their makeup as reference.
Kumon: Maybe I’ll go with Summer troupe next time!? Ah, I wonder if they’d come though…
Azami: It wouldn’t hurt to try invitin’ them. …I can’t say for sure that all the members would go though.
Q: How would you confess? In-person, by phone, or by LIME?
Azami: H-HUH!? Who the hell would answer that!!
Kumon: It’s fine, it’s fiiine! By the way, I’d do it face-to-face for sure! I’d like to see their face as I tell them and make sure I'm getting my feelings across properly.
Azami: …I see.
Kumon: C’mon, Azami. How about you?
Azami: I’m not gonna say. Lay off me! Get to the next question already!
Kumon: I sure wonder when we’re gonna get to hear Azami talk about this stuff~.
Q: When you’re on a date… would you hold hands, link arms, or do something else?
Azami: Another question like this? You gotta be kidding me!
Kumon: Now, now. Chill out, Azami! Considering the distance with my girlfriend… I guess I’d like to hold hands. But I bet both are out for Azami! So for him, it’d be “something else”?
Azami: Hey, why’re you answering for me without askin’?
Kumon: I knew you wouldn’t answer so I figured I’d say something for you!
Azami: This isn’t somethin’ you talk about with other people!
Kumon: You weren’t saying anything though. You gotta give an answer here! For the Azami in my mind, I don't think he’d be interested in doing PDA outside—or rather, I don’t think he’d be able to do it in the first place… Ah, you see, Azami’s a serious guy! But I’m sure there’s someone out there who’ll say they like that about you!
Azami: Uh, why am I being encouraged right now…?
Kumon:: Anywho, what do you really think? Did my answer hit it out of the park?
Azami: Urk, don’t fricken ask me! No comment!
---
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SEX POLLEN
request by anon
word count: 941
summary: Eddie and reader were locked in a room with a scientist who died from a major heart attack. When reader knocks over a jar of sex pollen she and Eddie can't hold back anymore.
DISCLAIMER: I don't usually write smut.. so i'm terribly sorry if this is bad. I did enjoy writing this though, it was a fun experiment. Whoever requested it thank you!
Gender: FEMALE
Eddie Diaz X fem! reader
Warnings: SMUT MDNI
So being locked in a room with Eddie after being exposed to sex pollen was not on my 2024 bingo card.
We were helping this scientist who had a major heart attack, I turned around too fast and knocked over a small jar. Eddie yelled at me but how the hell was I supposed to know it would just make us horny as shit? The victim died, we were doing cpr for about 25 minutes and Eddie ripped me off of the guy after saying he was gone. I never do well when we lose someone. Kind of makes me feel like I failed at my job. When I tried to kick out of his arms, that's when I knocked the jar over. We went to leave and found that it was completely locked down. Dude had like 6 million different security measures and the team was working to get them down. We put him under a sheet and slid him into a different room so we wouldn't have to stare at a dead body for God knows how long.
About twenty minutes after I knocked it over I rolled my head back, I could definitely feel the effects. I was trying not to pay attention to it, the burning sensation in my core but to be honest it was getting harder and harder. My cunt had never been this soaked, looking over and seeing Eddie with his head thrown back as he also tried to fight it didn’t help. My hand reached down, slipping into my pants and into my panties.. Slowly working around my clit. Eddie was staring now, looking at me with a look I’d never seen on his face before. “May I?” He made his way over to me and I nodded, he slid his hand into my pants and let out a quiet groan.
“Shit you’re so wet.” He whispered, I reached over and palmed at his bulge. “What if they find us too soon?” I moaned out quietly as he stuck a finger into me as I jolted backwards. “I don’t even care.” He whispered, kissing my neck slowly.
“You- You're supposed to be mad at me for this.” I stammered, hands finding their way into his dark hair. He shook his head against the crook of my neck. “I can’t be mad when the only thing I’m thinking about is fucking you senseless.”
He removed his hand and I let out a small whine. “Hold on, sweetheart. I’m just getting you more comfortable.” He slid my pants off along with my panties. He grabbed me by the waist, picking me up from the ground and sitting me on the counter, positioning himself in between my legs and throwing each one of my legs over his shoulders. He slowly licked the slick off of my cunt, looking up at me as he did so.
“Look at me, amor..” He whispered, the vibrations of his voice sending a shiver down my spine. I looked down at him, I swear I could’ve came right fucking there. His eyes were brown but they were always the prettiest eyes I’d ever seen.
He held eye contact with me, licking and sucking at my clit. I closed my eyes for a moment and he stopped, “Fuck.” I whispered, looking back down at him. “Keep looking at me, I wanna see those pretty eyes when you cum.” He spoke softly, his voice rugged. I nodded weakly, looking into his eyes as he continued to suck on my clit. He slid his tongue into me and I yelped, “E-eddie.” I whispered, grinding against his face. Before I knew it I was sweating and I was pushed to my max. My back arched and my mouth flew open, a loud moan leaving my mouth as he continued to tongue fuck me while I rode out my high. I pushed his head back with a shaky breath. He looked up at me, his mustache soaked with my slick.
He stood up and immediately started kissing me, making me taste me on his mouth. I moaned against him as he slid his belt off with ease, he took his cock out and pumped it a few times. “What do you need?” I whispered, taking his cock in my hand. “Your mouth or to be inside of you.. I don’t even care.” I could’ve sworn he whimpered a little bit. “How about both?” I lowered down to my knees, “Just this first because I need to taste you.” I licked the head of his cock, his head lolling back and I stopped.
“If I had to look at you, you have to look at me.” I licked at the large vein in his dick, him whimpering again and nodding as he maintained eye contact with me. His eyes were enough to make a girl weak in the knees.. If I wasn’t already. I took as much as I could of him into my mouth as possible, bobbing my head as his large hand entangled into my hair.
At some point, he was a moaning mess, “I’m gonna cum.. Please.”
I gave him a look of ‘do it’ and he did, his cum shooting into my throat in warm ropes. He decided he wanted to fuck the shit out of my on the counter, which I let him do but shit he was so pretty when he came.
Eventually we finished and got dressed, I walked over to him and kissed him slowly. “We should do that again sometime.” I laughed and he rolled his eyes. “Let me take you out on a date first.”
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An Unexpected Friendship pt 5
Master List
Characters: Jensen Ackles x Reader, Reader’s daughter, Jensen’s children
Warnings/Trigger Warnings: mentions of death, fluff
A/N: This is a short story written in collaboration with @cheekygirl2309.
This chapter has the Reader meeting Jared and Gen, and gifting Jensen something spicy for his birthday.
No disrespect to Jensen or his family. This is a work of fiction and does not depict real life. Written and edited fast-please overlook any errors.
Minors DNI 18+
The next morning I woke up before anyone else in the house. I crept downstairs and decided to start making breakfast. I heard the creak of the stairs and then felt warm, strong arms around me. I smiled as I leaned against Jensen’s chest. He moved my hair and softly kissed my neck, “Good morning beautiful.” “Good morning, Jensen.” I smiled.
“What are you doing up so early?” He asked as he turned me around to face him. “I wanted to make breakfast for everyone. I figured the kids would need breakfast before they went outside to play. Jensen softly kissed my lips, “Let me help you.” I nodded as I handed him the spatula to flip the pancakes.
I moved around the kitchen getting the rest of breakfast ready. Being in the kitchen, making breakfast for all of us with Jensen felt easy, perfect. As the two of us cooked and moved around the kitchen, we would steal little kisses and touches. It made my heart flutter and made me giggle a little. Jensen would smirk every time I let out a giggle.
Just as we finished cooking we heard the unmistakable sound of little feet bounding down the stairs, “Sounds like the kids are up.” Jensen chuckled. “Yeah, by the sound of it, all of them are.” I smiled.
All four kids came into the kitchen. “Good morning, guys.” I greeted them with a smile. “Good morning.” They all said, almost in unison. “I hope you’re hungry, we made breakfast.” The kids sat around the table as Jensen and I plated their food.
As we ate we talked about some things we had going on soon. Jensen told us he was due to leave in about a week to start filming in Toronto. The kids all looked a little sad. I tried to hide my sadness, but my eyes met Jensen’s and he knew.
“So I want to invite Jared, Gen and the kids over tonight. I want them to meet you and Jazzy and hang out before I have to leave. I figured we could grill out and have dinner.” The kids squealed in delight and told Jazzy how much fun Tom, Shep and Odette are.
I was a little nervous. This was Jensen’s best friend and I wasn’t exactly sure if he would approve of mine and Jensen’s relationship moving so quickly.
After breakfast was done the kids went upstairs to change and I started to clean up. Jensen came up behind me and wrapped his arms around me. “Hey, are you okay?” He asked softly. I nodded yes, not trusting my voice. I could feel the sting of the tears in my eyes.
This was the first time Jensen was leaving us and I didn’t know how I was going to handle it. He turned me around to face him and he saw the tears in my eyes. “Oh baby, what’s wrong?” “Nothing, Jens. It’s stupid. I’ll be okay.” He lifted my chin, “Sweetheart, it’s not stupid if it’s upsetting you, and clearly whatever it is is really bothering you. Please, baby. Talk to me.”
I took a deep, steading breath, “Honestly I’m a little nervous to meet Jared and Gen. What if they don’t like me and tell you we are moving too fast and you decide to break up with me. I’m also a little sad you’re leaving. I understand you have to go film, but this is the first time you will be gone.”
“Well first, Jared and Gen are going to love you because I do, and filming is something we will have to navigate together. I try not to be gone too long, and I will FaceTime you every day. I can’t go a day without seeing you, so you better be ready for our video calls.” He chuckled.
I felt a little better, but it still was in the back of my mind. I finished cleaning, and got showered and dressed. After we were all dressed, we decided to take the kids shopping and then to the grocery store to get stuff to cook. Jensen had called Jared and he loved the idea of coming over to eat and meet us.
“So Y/N, while I’m gone filming I’ll call the nanny that usually keeps the kids for me so you don’t have to worry about anything.” I looked at him a little taken back, “Oh okay, if that’s what you think is best.” Jensen continued driving, but looked over at me. “Baby, are you okay?” He took my hand in his. "Yeah, I mean I guess. I understand you getting the nanny, but honestly I thought I would look after them. If I’m going to be a part of their lives, I’m going to have to figure out how to navigate life with four kids.” As Jensen pulled into a parking spot he looked over at me, “Honey, I was going to call in the nanny to help. You will still be in charge. She’s just going to be an extra set of hands for you.” He smiled at me. “Oh okay, I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions. I appreciate that Jensen.” I leaned over and kissed his lips, earning “ewws” from the backseat.
Jensen and I laughed and got out of the car.
We got the kids out and went into the store to shop. Jensen picked up some things he needed for his trip, the kids all got new shoes and I picked up some things I needed for the house. Jensen disappeared for a few minutes as the kids and I made our way to the check out lane.
A few hours later we were home, Jensen had fired up the grill and the Padalecki’s were there. I was so nervous when they walked in, but Jared pulled me into a big bear hug and made me feel instantly at ease. “I’m so glad you’re okay and you’re here taking care of our boy. He was worried sick about you.” Gen was just as sweet, telling me she could see how much Jensen cared about me just by looking at him.
“He’s been a little adrift after his wife died, so I’m glad he found you, and he has you.” I smiled softly at her as she said that to me, “I’m glad I found him too. He’s an incredible person, an amazing father, and an even better boyfriend. I am going to miss him when he leaves next week for filming. I just hope we can navigate this together.”
Gen touched my hand, “Hey, I’m here for you. When the guys leave for filming or conventions, it’s hard. It does get a bit easier though. If you need anything while he’s gone, you call me. In fact, let’s figure out a girls day while he’s gone and the kids are in school.”
I smiled brightly, “That would be wonderful, thank you, Gen.” Jared walked over a few minutes later and sat down beside his wife, “So, Y’N. How’s things going? Is our boy treating you well?” I smiled, “Yes, he’s incredible, and Jazzy loves him so much.” “Jensen’s birthday is in about 4 days, so right before he leaves. Do you have anything planned?” Jared asked.
“Actually yes, I had pictures taken for him of all four of the kids and had prints made, I also ended up getting him something I can’t tell you about because it’s private and for his eyes only.” I smiled as he got a confused look on his face. Gen smiled at her husband's confusion.
Then the realization hit him and he blushed a little. Gen and I laughed. Jensen looked over at the three of us and smiled. He continued cooking and Jared got up and walked over to him.
Gen looked over at Jensen and then back at me. “He’s in love with you, I hope you know that. I’ve seen that look one other time in all the years I’ve known him, and he married that girl.” I smiled and looked at Jensen then back at her, “I’m in love with him too. I know it’s fast and it doesn’t make sense, but there is just something about him. Being with him is easy, being with the kids is easy.”
Gen touched my arm and smiled, “Don’t let anyone tell you two it’s too fast. When you know you know, it doesn’t matter how long it’s been. I knew Jared was it for me right away. It was love at first sight.”
Jared and Jensen were talking around the grill, “Hey man, I really like Y/N, and her daughter is adorable. She seems like she’s good for you and the kids.” Jared said to Jensen. “Yeah, Jar, everything feels right. I’m in love with her.” Jared touched Jensen’s shoulder, “I know man, I know.”
As the evening came to an end, Gen and I exchanged numbers and picked a day to go to the spa. We all agreed to go to dinner for Jensen’s birthday before he left for filming. Hearing again he was leaving made my heart a little sad. I knew he had projects already set up, but as the days creeped closer to him leaving I grew sadder.
We said our goodbyes, and got the kids in bed. As Jazzy crawled in bed she started to cry. “What’s wrong baby?” I asked as I tried to hold her. “I don’t want Daddy Jensen to leave. He won’t come home to me.” Jensen heard her and walked into the room and sat on the bed beside her. “Baby girl, I promise I’ll be home before you know it.”
She threw her arms around his neck and held tightly. “Daddy, please don’t leave me.” She cried. My heart broke and Jensen’s did too. He held her tightly and did his best to quiet her fears. “Shh baby, it’s okay.” Jensen ended up rocking her until she fell asleep in his arms.
He gently laid her down and covered her up. We slipped out of the room and in the hallway I threw my arms around him and kissed him, “Thank you, Jensen. You are an incredible father.” He pulled me close and kissed me back, “And you’re an incredible mother.”
Jensen and I crawled into bed and made love until we were both satisfied, then we laid in each other’s arms and talked. We talked about his trip, the kids, and our future.
The next few days passed too fast. Jensen’s birthday was in two days and I started to get nervous about his gift. I wondered if he would really like what I got him, more specifically the special gift from me. I knew he’d love the pictures of the kids, but I was getting nervous about my gift.
Jazzy came into my room fidgeting. “Mommy.” “Yes, baby?” “Um Daddy’s birthday is soon and I want to get him something.” I smiled at her, “Baby I already picked up something from the four of you.” She hung her head, “Oh, okay.” I took her hand and smiled softly, “Jazzy, go get your coat and we can go find something.” She smiled brightly and took off.
“Jens, I’m taking Jazzy out for a bit, we will be back shortly.” Jensen walked into the room and kissed my lips, “Okay baby. Be careful. I love you.” I leaned back in and kissed him, “I love you too.”
Jazzy and I went to the store and she carefully walked through each aisle. She’d pick up something, carefully inspect it and then put it back down. I could tell she was getting frustrated. That’s when I saw a plaque that talked about a dad who stepped up and didn’t have to. I picked it up and read it with a smile on my face.
Jazzy looked up at me, “Mommy, what does it say?” I read it to her, “Stepped Up Dad. One who made the Choice to love another’s child as their own. One who Steps Up to provide, Protect, encourage and love. You may not have Given me the gift of life but you have given me the Gift of you. Thank you for being the Father you didn’t have to be.”
Her eyes went wide, “Mommy that’s Daddy Jensen.” I smiled, “Yes it is baby.” “Mommy, can I get that for him?” I smiled and nodded. She carefully carried it to the register and I paid the bill. When we got home she carried it to her room and I took her some wrapping paper. She wanted to wrap it herself.
As she was wrapping her gift she looked over and saw her stuffed rabbit she’d had since she was a baby. She smiled and got an idea.
The day of Jensen’s birthday I made him his favorite breakfast, the kids all made him cards and it was time for me to give him the gifts I had made for him. Before I could give him the pictures of the kids, Jazzy came in with her gift.
She handed it to Jensen with a big smile on her face. I noticed the gift looked like she had added something to it, I just wasn’t exactly sure what it was. Jensen smiled as he was opening her gift. As soon as he opened it her stuffed bunny fell out. Jensen looked a little confused, “Baby girl, did you mean to wrap this?” Jensen held up the bunny.
She nodded, “Yes, so you can take it with you when you go. To keep you company and remind you of me.” Jensen pulled her close and kissed her head, “Thank you baby girl.” He carefully sat the bunny down and opened the rest of the gift. He read the plaque and you saw tears prick his eyes. He looked at you and then at Jazzy. “I love this so much sweetie.” He pulled her close.
Then I handed him a box. He looked at me and smiled. When he opened the box he gasped. “These are beautiful! Wow! Look at all my babies together.” I had him larger prints made, but I also had him a small flipbook made so he could take it with him. He stood up and pulled me up and into his arms, “These are amazing, thank you baby.” Jensen kissed me deeply.
After he opened his gifts the kids went to play and it was time for me to give him my gift. I took a deep breath, “Um, Jens. I have another gift for you.” His eyes sparkled “Baby, you didn't have to get me anything else.” “I know, but I wanted to. I’m just really nervous. I’ve never done anything like this before and honestly I’m terrified.”
Jensen cupped my face and looked in my eyes, “Darlin’ you don’t ever have to be nervous or scared with me.” I took a deep breath and let it out, then handed him another box.
Jensen opened it and pulled out the bound book. As he flipped through it, I noticed the smirk on his face grow wider and it turned into a genuine smile. “Damn, I’m a lucky man. These are incredible, beautiful. You’re beautiful.” I blushed as he looked at the boudoir pictures I had made for him. As he flipped through the book I noticed he was getting more excited, and he had to adjust his pants.
When he got to the last picture he started laughing. His head went back and he laughed. The last photo was me wearing nothing but a “I Love Dean Winchester” shirt. I chuckled.
He pulled me close and kissed me. “Thank you baby. These were absolutely incredible and the pictures of all our babies together was perfect. I actually have an appointment I need to get to, but I’ll be back soon. Are you okay with holding down the fort?” I nodded, “Yes, baby. Go ahead and head out. We will be fine. Besides, the kids wanted to surprise you with something later anyway, so this works out perfectly.”
I kissed him quickly and he headed out while the kids and I got busy making his cake.
A few hours later the cake was ready and Jensen came home. He smiled when he saw the cake. “Hey, Y/N, kids, can you guys come here?”
All of us went into the family room and Jensen's smile was huge. “So guys, Y/N and Jazzy are a big part of our family now. We live together, and I love them very much.” He looked at his children, “And I know you three love them too. Jazzy like a sister and Y/N like a second mom.” The kids shook their heads yes.
“So I did something today to make sure everyone else knows how much I love them.” Then he lifted his shirt and we saw on his arm a new tattoo. Intertwined with the tattoos he had for his children was a bouquet of Jasmine flowers.
I gasped when I saw it. I couldn’t believe he added a tattoo for Jazzy. Jazmyne was speechless when we explained it to her.
“Daddy got me on his arm, too?” “Yes, baby. I did.” All the kids gathered around him and looked at his arm. They loved it too.
“Okay guys, let’s go get some dinner with Uncle Jared and Aunt Gen.” Jensen said as he stood up. “Kids go change. I laid your clothes on your beds.” I told them as they bounded up the stairs.
Jensen and I walked to our shared room and started to change. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. “See something you like, Ms Y/L/N?” I stepped closer and rested my hands on his bare chest, “Oh absolutely, Mr Ackles. You just wait until we get home tonight. I saved those outfits from the pictures.” I winked at him and went to walk past him. He grabbed me and growled, “Mmm I can’t wait to see them on you, and take them off.” I giggled as he pulled me closer.
*Time Jump to the day Jensen leaves*
The morning of the day Jensen had to leave was a bit somber. JJ, Arrow and Zeppelin were used to Jensen leaving, but that didn’t mean it was easy for them. I was worried about Jazmyne. She had been having nightmares about Jensen not coming home and she didn’t want him to leave her side. Two nights ago she woke up from a nightmare and wouldn’t let Jensen go, so he laid down beside her and fell asleep laying on her bed.
Last night was another night of tears and her begging him not to leave. Jensen found his old stuffed Care Bear he had when he was younger and gave it to her to hold. “Jazzy, this was mine when I was about your age. This is Braveheart Bear. My mother bought him for me to keep with me to help me be brave when they were gone for work. You see, my dad went away to act too, and I would miss him. So my mom got me this and look, *he pointed to the bear’s foot), it has my name on it. I want you to hold on to it. It will help you be brave while I’m gone. So you have my stuffy, and I have yours.” She took the bear and held it tightly against her chest.
She finally drifted off to sleep. This morning when she got up she was carrying it around with her. I laid on our shared bed in Jensen’s shirt as he packed. I kept sliding his shirt further up my thigh. I giggled as he groaned.
“Baby, you’re killing me.” He bit his lower lip. “Oh I know.” I smirked. Jensen dropped his bag and climbed on the bed, hovering over me and started to pepper me with kisses. “God I’m going to miss you, Y/N.” “I’m going to miss you too, Jensen.”
Jensen got up and carried his bags downstairs. I got dressed and went down to join him. I could hear the kids playing as I helped Jensen gather the last bit of stuff to put in his bag.
I had his charger and other things and went to put them in his bag. I walked into the living room expecting his bags to be by the door but they weren’t there. “Hey, Jensen. Where are your bags?” “They are by the front door.” I looked around and still didn’t see them.
“Honey, they aren’t there.” Jensen walked in the room, “What? I just set them down.” We searched all over the house for his bags and couldn’t find them. We walked into the playroom and found JJ, Arrow and Zeppelin playing, “Hey guys, have you seen daddy’s bags?” They looked up and in unison said no.
“Have you three seen Jazzy?” I asked as I realized she wasn’t in the room. “She was in her room.” Arrow answered.
I walked to Jazzy’s room and found her sitting on her bed with Breaveheart. “Hey Jazzy, have you seen Jensen’s bags?” She shook her head quickly and looked down. Jensen appeared at the door and I looked at him.
“Jazmyne Marie, did you do something with the bags?” I asked sternly. She lowered her head and shook her head yes, then pointed to behind the bed. Jensen stepped over and looked, finding his bags. He pulled the bags out and looked at me. “Jazmyne Marie, why would you take his bags? You know he needs to leave.”
Tears fell from her eyes, “I’m sorry. I didn’t want him to leave.” I was about to say something else, but Jensen touched my arm and stopped me. “It’s okay, darlin’. I’ve got this. “Baby girl, come here.” Jensen pulled Jazzy into his lap. “I promise the days will go by fast. You’ve got your mama, JJ, Arrow and Zeppy. You also have Braveheart, and I have Mr. Bunny. I also had this made for you.” He pulled out a small box and Jazzy opened it. It was a heart shaped locket like the girls had. Jensen opened it and showed her a picture of her on one side and him on the other. “Now, we will always be together no matter how far apart we are.”
“I love it, thank you.” She said as he put it on around her neck.
The time to say goodbye to Jensen had arrived. The kids cried and held him tightly. He had tears in his eyes too. Then he pulled me flush to his chest, “I love you so much, Y/N. You take good care of our babies while I’m gone, and I promise when I get back, you and I will spend the whole day in bed.” I kissed him deeply, “I’ll hold you to that, Ackles.”
Jensen grabbed his bags and headed outside with them. He loaded the SUV, turned to wave goodbye and blew us a kiss. “I love you five so much, take care of each other while I’m gone, and kids be good.” We waved, blew kisses and watched him drive away. I stood there wondering how I was going to survive the next month without him, without his kiss, without his arms wrapped around me.
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what am i to you | pablo gavi [part ii]
🌧️ synopsis: In an attempt to get over Pablo, you go on a date, only to end up in the hospital with a sprained ankle. When Pablo shows up uninvited, trying to take care of you, the moment turns into a full-blown fight. tags: angst, unrequited love, emotional tension. (written in 2nd person but no mention of yn) (around 2.5k words)
you can read the first part here.
After the confession, you both said you'd stay in each other's lives, like nothing had changed. You promised. But promises, you realize, are easier said than kept.
The calls become even rarer, and when they do come, they’re awkward, halting. He used to be the first person you’d call when you were bored, the one you’d go to when you needed to vent or laugh, and now? Now you just… don’t.
That’s when you meet him – this other guy. He’s nice, funny enough, interested. And he’s not Pablo. You don’t have butterflies, but there’s a kind of safety in that, a relief in the way he looks at you with no expectations, no memories weighing you down. So when he asks you out, you say yes, not because you’re excited, but because you’re desperate to move forward, to stop feeling like you’re stuck in that moment when Pablo said, “I’m sorry. I can’t give you what you want.”
The night of the date, you’re almost ready when your phone rings. It’s Pablo, and your heart jumps, he hasn’t called in weeks, and it’s like he knew, like he somehow sensed that you were trying to step away from him for good.
You answer, trying to sound normal. “Hey.”
“Hey,” he says, his voice distant, like he’s not sure if he’s intruding. “It’s been a while.”
“Yeah,” you say, trying to keep it casual. You’re trying to decide between two different shoes for the date, and it feels wrong. “I guess we’ve both been… busy.”
It’s a lie, and you both know it. But you’re not about to get into that now. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, all dressed up, ready to leave.
“Actually,” you interrupt, “I’m kind of in a hurry. I have… plans.”
There’s a beat of silence, and you can almost picture the look on his face – confused, caught off guard. “Plans?” he asks, and you can hear an edge in his voice now, one he’s trying to hide. “Like… a date?”
“Yeah,” you say, forcing yourself to sound like it’s not a big deal. “I’m going out with someone.”
“With who?”
“Just… someone I met,” you say, trying to brush it off, “We’ve only talked a couple of times.”
There’s silence, and you’re about to check if he’s still on the line when he says, “So that’s what you’re doing now? Just going out with random guys?”
You get defensive. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I don’t know,” he snaps, his anger leaking into his words. “It’s just… you’re already –” He stumbles over the words, his voice tight. “Is that what you want now?”
“It’s not like that,” you insist, feeling the heat rise in your face. “You’re the one who –” You stop yourself because you promised you wouldn’t do this. You wouldn't blame him. But he doesn’t make it easy.
He lets out a bitter laugh, and it cuts deeper than you’d like to admit. “No, go ahead. Say it.”
You swallow hard, fighting the urge to lash back. “I miss you,” you say.
“It doesn’t look like you do,” he says quietly, and there’s a hurt there you didn’t expect.
Your chest tightens, and you can feel the tears burning at the back of your eyes. “Pablo, you stopped calling,” you say, your voice breaking. “You left me here alone, what was I supposed to do?”
He doesn’t respond right away, and you wish you could see his face, wish you could understand what’s going through his mind. “I just… I thought we’d be okay,” he says finally, his voice sounding defeated. “That we’d get through this. Together.”
You take a shaky breath. “I thought so too,” you admit. There’s a silence that stretches on, heavy and suffocating.
“Yeah, well,” he mutters, “have fun on your date.” And then he hangs up before you can say another word, leaving you staring at your reflection, feeling like you’ve lost him all over again.
part 2
The date wasn’t going great, you didn’t have much in common with the guy, and things got even worse. One minute you’re walking across the street after dinner, pretending to laugh at some lame joke he made, and the next, your ankle twists under you, the pain shooting up your leg like a lightning bolt. You try to catch yourself, but you land hard, knees buckling beneath you.
The guy freaks out, asking if you're okay, but all you can focus on is the pulsing pain in your ankle. You're pretty sure it's sprained, but you're too embarrassed to admit it right away. He helps you up, practically carrying you to the nearest bench, and that's when you finally let yourself wince in pain.
A trip to the hospital later and you’re sitting in one of those sterile, white rooms, cradling your swollen ankle in your lap. Nothing too serious, just a sprain, but it’s enough to make you feel like an idiot. The guy’s hovering by the door, looking uncomfortable, like he wants to leave but doesn't know how. You can’t blame him. The awkwardness between you is palpable, and this was supposed to be a fun night.
You’re ready to get out of there, but you don't want to be alone for the discharge process. The guy’s already looking at his phone like he’s counting the minutes. So, you make a decision.
You pull out your phone, thinking of someone nearby, someone who won’t make things more awkward. Aurora. You don’t really want to call her, but she lives in the neighborhood, and you can’t stand the idea of sitting here with the date guy. It's nothing against him – well, maybe it is, but you really just need a friend right now.
You hit call, and it rings a few times before she picks up, her voice bright and concerned.
“Hey, what’s up? You good?”
“I’m at the hospital,” you say quickly, the words sounding so much worse than they feel. “I sprained my ankle on the date, can you come? Please?”
Aurora doesn’t even hesitate. “Of course, I’m on my way.” You end the call, grateful she’s coming, and feeling a lot better knowing someone familiar will be here soon.
A few minutes later, the door swings open. You expect it to be Aurora, but when you look up, you freeze.
Pablo stands there, his eyes wide with concern, his posture stiff. And right next to him, Aurora is visibly cringing, her face flushed red. She’s holding her hands up in an apologetic gesture. “I didn’t mean to –” she starts, but Pablo cuts her off.
“Are you okay?” His voice is frantic, as if you’re on the brink of death instead of sitting there with a sprained ankle.
You blink, taken aback by how he’s acting.
“I’m fine,” you say, a little too forcefully, but the last thing you need right now is to be treated like a patient. “Just a sprain. Nothing serious.”
Pablo doesn’t look convinced. He steps into the room, eyes scanning your ankle. He’s clearly overreacting, but it’s hard to argue with him when he’s looking at you like that.
Aurora stands off to the side, a sheepish look on her face. “I’m sorry, I called him,” she whispers. “I thought you’d want him to know.”
“Really?” you ask, a little irritated now, because it’s clear Pablo doesn’t know how to handle this. You’re still pissed at him for the phone call earlier, but now? Now it feels like he’s intruding, even though you’re happy to see him, just not like this.
Pablo, still standing too close, suddenly shifts his weight, looking uncomfortable. “I don’t know, I just… I thought I should be here,” he says, his voice a little quieter, like he’s realizing how ridiculous he’s being.
“I’m fine,” you repeat, trying to lighten the mood. “Seriously. I’m just waiting to be discharged.”
Before you can say anything else, the date guy clears his throat. You turn to see him stepping forward.
"Um, should I leave?" His voice is a little too high-pitched, trying to be polite but also clearly uncomfortable now that Pablo’s here. Pablo, who’s still looking at you like he’s trying to figure out if you’re dying, shifts his eyes to the guy standing by the door.
“Who even are you?” Pablo’s tone is confused, but there's also a sharpness to it now, something territorial. It doesn’t make sense, but you can feel the weirdness between them.
You open your mouth, about to explain, but Pablo cuts you off.
“Is that the guy you just had a date with?” His eyes rake over him. "Yeah, you can leave now. I got it." He waves him off, voice firm and final, like he’s the one in charge here.
“Pablo, what the hell?” you snap. Your blood’s boiling, you look over at the date guy, who’s still standing there like he’s waiting for a command. “Yeah, you can go now,” you say, softer, sweeter than Pablo, but the sentiment’s the same. “Thanks for bringing me here.”
Pablo scoffs, and it’s the kind of sound that tells you he’s annoyed, but it’s also kind of funny, considering he’s the one who’s ruining the moment. You’re not sure if he’s jealous or if he’s just being an idiot, but it pisses you off all the same.
Once the date guy leaves, the silence between you and Pablo is loud. You cross your arms, staring at him like you’re daring him to keep pushing.
“Well, now you can leave!” you say, voice cool, as you face him.
Pablo doesn't budge, though. "And how are you going home?" He sounds offended, like you’ve done something wrong by even suggesting that he should leave.
You roll your eyes. “Aurora can take me,” you mutter, already tired of the back-and-forth.
Pablo’s face twitches like he’s winning the argument. “I drove Aurora here,” he says, smug. Like the fact that he’s the one with the car makes him the one in control now.
Your eyes narrow, but deep down, you know you’ve got no choice. “Fine,” you grumble, defeated.
part 3
Pablo’s arms are strong, but his touch is gentle as he picks you up, carrying you bridal style like it’s the most natural thing in the world. His hands are steady as he lifts you, his face close to yours, it makes you feel like you're back in that place where everything between you two was simple. But that’s not the reality anymore, is it?
He doesn’t say a word as he carries you to the couch, setting you down so gently it’s almost too much. You want to tell him to back off, to let you handle it, but you catch something in his eyes that stops you – he’s looking at you like you’re the most important thing in the world, and you can’t deal with that, not right now.
“It’s just a sprain,” you say, but your voice cracks halfway through, and you hate yourself for it. You hate how kind he’s being, how his touch makes everything hurt even more.
Pablo shakes his head. “I miss you too,” he says, his voice low, almost broken. It’s a call back to the phone call, to what you said earlier, and it’s like he’s holding onto those words for dear life.
Your heart feels like it’s about to shatter. “Then let me go,” you whisper, tears streaming down your face. “We can’t be friends if I’m in love with you, you idiot.”
He’s closer now, wiping the tears from your cheek, his hand lingering longer than it should. He’s too close, and you’re drowning in it. But you let him stay because, in some twisted way, it’s all you have left of him.
“Don’t go on dates with idiots,” he says, his voice is exasperated. “You don’t need them. You just need to be with me, and we can make it work. We can go back to how it was. I promise.”
You shake your head, trying to stop the tears that just won’t quit. “Just because you don’t want me doesn’t mean no one else will,” you say, the words bitter on your tongue. “Don’t act like I can’t find someone who can make me happy.”
Pablo’s face hardens, his eyes narrowing. “You’re just doing this to get back at me, and you know it.”
You almost laugh, shaking your head. “I’m not trying to get back at you, I’m trying to move on. I can’t keep pretending we’re okay.”
“You don’t need someone else,” he says through gritted teeth, his hand clenched into a fist. “You never needed anyone else. You’ve always had me.”
“Not anymore,” you snap, your anger flaring. “I don’t have you anymore! You’ve shut me out like nothing happened!”
His eyes flash, he steps closer, his hand reaching out for you, but you flinch back, afraid of how close he is, afraid of what it means. “I never wanted to hurt you,” he says, his voice so small. “I just... I didn’t know what to do.”
“You didn’t have to do anything,” you say, your whole body trembling. “You just had to stay.”
His face falls, and for a second, you almost reach out to him. But you stop yourself. “I want my best friend back,” he says, his voice cracking.
“You don’t get that,” you shout, the words rushing out. “You can’t pretend I’m the same person I was before any of this happened. I’m not!”
“I don’t care!” His voice rises, raw and desperate. “I don’t care if it’s different, I just want you in my life. I don’t know what to do without you.”
You pull away. “You can’t keep saying that.”
He looks at you, devastated. He’s leaning closer now, his hand on your knee, his thumb rubbing circles against your skin. It’s like he’s pretending nothing’s changed, pretending this is how things always were.
“Pablo –"
You push against his chest, the tears running down your face now, uncontrollable. “Please, just leave,” you say, your voice shaking, but you mean it.
You’ve had enough. You’re done.
But Pablo just looks at you, he doesn’t move, doesn’t leave, and for a moment, you’re sure he’s not going to listen.
“Please,” you beg, your voice breaking. "Just go."
Pablo’s hand brushes his own cheek, wiping away a tear he hadn’t realized fell. He speaks like he's trying to convince himself more than you. “I’ll come back,” he says. “To check on your injury, make sure you’re better.”
He looks away quickly. “I’ll take care of you... like you took care of me.” His words hang in the air, painfully.
You watch him go, every step tearing at you. As the door closes, you stare at it for a second, your body tensing as if it’s about to snap in two. And then you can’t take it anymore. You reach for the nearest pillow, throwing it at the door with every ounce of anger you’ve been holding inside.
“Idiot!” you scream, everything hurts – your heart, your head, your stupid, stupid tears.
You sit there, staring at the door, feeling the ache spread through your chest. It hits you like a punch – you haven’t touched him, haven’t held him in over a month. It feels like the end of everything, and it’s crushing you.
You curl up on the couch, hugging yourself, wishing things could go back to how they were before everything went wrong. But they can’t. All you have is the emptiness he left behind, and it’s swallowing you whole.
#football fanfic#pablo gavi fanfic#pablo gavi x you#pablo gavi x reader#gavi x reader#gavi imagine#gavi x you#pablo gavi#brightlightwrites
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