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honeyhoshi · 6 months ago

Text

raise the stakes pt. 1

summary: you and soonyoung have been in each other’s orbits for years. you’ve watched him go from a grassroots player to receiving the captain’s armband—a sign of trust and acknowledging his loyalty to his team.

but he’s loyal to you too.

this a part of the man of the match universe and set in the 2022-2023 season.

genre: professional footballer (soccer) soonyoung, coach's daughter oc, (sort of) childhood friends to lovers, slight angst, smut

wordcount: 24,969, pt. 2 coming soon

pairing: soonyoung x afab!reader (named cho jiae)

warnings: oral (m & f receiving), spit kink (bec i wrote it), tit fucking, titty obsessed soonyoung, cum play, cum eating, fingering, squirting, brief embarrassment over squirting, brief impact play (soonyoung slaps her ass ONCE), unprotected sex (NOT RECOMMENDED IN REAL LIFE), creampie (again, bec i wrote it), soonyoung calls her baby, overwhelmed but HAPPY and SATISFIED tears

author's notes: i wrote this while recalling a lot of my own harrowing experiences with boys growing up and had a lot of embarrassing fun with it. i hope you all fall in love with this soonyoung the way i did.

There’s something to be said about how you’re hiding in your neighbor’s bush right now but you’re not interested in dealing with it at the moment.

You had been pulled from the comfort of your bed by the smiling, panting, hunk of hair known as your dog Ddalgi. He had been startled awake by the film you were watching and despite the ungodly hour, he had demanded to be taken out for a walk. If he had just closed his eyes and fallen back asleep, you wouldn’t be in such a predicament.

On most nights your neighborhood is dead quiet and pretty much abandoned at 1AM, everyone having retreated into the comfort of their homes. But tonight is an exception and the only other person outside makes you swear something unladylike. It’s Soonyoung.

It’s Soonyoung who had moved into the neighborhood three months ago. Soonyoung who you were able to successfully evade for all those weeks. Soonyoung who had just put a pretty lady into a taxi, his wishes of safety and to let him know when she’s made it home audible just as you rounded the corner from the Jang’s.

You try to stay as still and as quiet as you can, willing him to walk back up his stupid driveway and into his house so you and Ddalgi can make a run for it to your dog’s favorite stop just past his property. Had you been alone you’d be successful, but your Golden Retriever's bladder is ready to burst and his whines and antsy tippy tapping toes are enough to sell you out.

Then comes a call of your name, “Is that you?”

There’s no use in hiding now and you make a face before trying to compose yourself, moving behind the bush and sending a tentative wave his way.

“Evening, Hosh!” You wave from your spots.

You curse every god you can name at the top of your head because of course it had to be Soonyoung.

He waves back tentatively and turns his wrist to look at the time on his watch and you can see him furrowing his eyebrows, probably not believing the time.

Ddalgi is having none of it, by the way, and tugs at you impatiently at the sight of someone new. He’s wagging his tail ferrociously as you two make your way to Soonyoung – your dog excitedly, and you begrudging.

All questions fall from Soonyoung’s lips as he greets Ddalgi with open arms allowing your dog to lick at his face. You’ll forever remember this night as your dog getting further with your teenage crush in his two years of life than you have in all twenty eight of yours.

You start cursing gods again.

You will have to admit that the two of them are cute and you wish you could snap a picture of the sweet moment, Soonyoung’s love for animals still ever present. You have to keep the smile down when he looks up to you from where he’s kneeled down to play with Ddalgi.

Once he’s had enough of your dog’s wet, slobbery love, he gets up, dusts off the imaginary dust from his pants and looks to you expectantly. As always, Soonyoung looks fresh and young and bright. You wonder if you should shield your eyes from his natural brilliance.

Ddalgi busies himself by sniffing at Soonyoung’s bushes, no doubt ready to unleash his bladder, while you kind of sway there in your ratty sweater and sleep shorts.

“So!” You start, flashing him a cheesy smile.

“Soooo…” Soonyoung replies with a laugh, shoving his hands into his pockets.

You’re saved by the bell when you hear the telltale sound of your dog going and you can’t help but make a face, “Sorry about that, he really needed to go.”

Soonyoung himself can’t help when he lets out a laugh and you want to melt.

“It’s no bother, really–”

“Also uh, sorry about uh, you know–”

“Oh!”

You’re both cutting each other off and when you meet his eyes you both can’t help the genuine laughter that spills out of both your mouths. Ddalgi can’t help it either when he lets out a gleeful bark, wanting to join in on the fun.

When you’ve caught your breath, you can’t help that a smile stays on your face.

“What I was trying to say,” You finally get out, “is uh, sorry for walking in on you and your uhh, ya know, lady friend–”

Soonyoung tries to butt in with a “No, it really–”

You stop him with a hand on his chest and a playful, overexaggerated wink.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell dad you’re still up this late or whatever arcane rule of his you’ve broken,” with a slight tug of his leash, you start to lead Ddalgi towards the direction of your house.

Soonyoung gapes at you and you send him a thumbs up.

As you’re walking away he seems to get a hold of his bearings and yells out, disrupting the calm evening, “It wasn’t like that, I swear!”

You turn to him, walking backwards, “Don’t worry, Hosh! I can keep a secret!”

And keep this secret you will. You’d take it to the grave if you have to. Because it was mortifying.

The mere idea that Soonyoung was going to be caught in a dating scandal had been your personal nightmare for years. Harboring a crush was brutal in and of itself, but harboring a crush on a world-renowned football player who you sort of spent your childhood around and is now a professional playing under your dad’s guidance is a wholly unique experience that very few would be able to relate to.

Your history with Soonyoung started when you were twelve and realized with utmost alarm that boys can be cute.

You had grown up with an older brother and just that experience alone made you think that boys sucked. But having spent a good chunk of your after-school schedule at the HYBE training facilities meant you were always surrounded by rowdy football players (who smelled and were loud and annoying).

Soonyoung was all of those things, of course.

But he was also cute.

The realization was quite unwelcome because you liked turning your nose up at the gaggle of teenage boys who barrelled their way into your dad’s office after training, asking for photos and autographs, going on about a new play they wanted to try, and if he’d let them play forward for the next scrimmage.

Such was the life of the head coach for an Under-18 league team.

But none were as consistent as Soonyoung had been. He was in that office after every single practice; hounding your dad about how he had played, and if your dad saw how he improved, and if your dad could teach him that move from the 2005 cup final.

At first it had baffled you. Soonyoung didn’t even play under your dad's guidance. He was just as old as you were and wouldn't be part of your dad's team for another three or so years. One day you gave him a real good look and your eyes hone in on the gloves he had under his arm.

He was a goal keeper.

Playing keeper wasn't a particularly flashy position for most kids—the glamor of scoring goals was usually at the top of most's heads. Kids who were put in front of the goal usually groaned and kicked the dirt at the little ball possession they'd get, and of course, not being able to score any goals.

Even you had preferred to play, during your brief football career, what you then considered a more active position of right back.

But Soonyoung wore his keeper’s gloves like a badge of honor and looked at your dad like the second coming of Christ. Which made sense as your dad had been one of the most prolific goal keepers in the Korean league. You don’t fault Soonyoung for looking up to your dad like a hero, he was yours as well.

While most of the players leave you be to work on whatever homework you brought to kill time, Soonyoung always bade you goodbye after his little consultation session, always a little rushed and mumbling how he might miss his train back home.

Admittedly now it seems a little bare minimum but you were twelve and no other boy really paid you any mind. Soonyoung’s bright eye smile and sweaty face had been tattooed in your brain since then and you looked forward to his rushed, sweaty, and sweet goodbye almost every day.

All of this comes to mind as you faceplant onto your bed and leave Ddalgi to his own devices. Your convoluted past with Soonyoung swims before your eyes like a movie montage and you can’t help but squeeze your eyes shut at your mistakes, lapses, and missed chances. You survived eight years of his professional career without the worry of a WAG coming into the picture but all of that may be at an end at 2AM on a random Sunday.

Sleep had evaded you in the early hours of the morning and what little sleep you did get was subpar.

There’s a frown on your face when you jog down the stairs, opting to join your dad in the dining room for breakfast.

“Good morning, sweet peach. There’s strawberries and croissants on the table,” your dad greets, briefly looking up from the game of Candy Crush on his iPad.

Your squinted eyes finally focus on what’s in front of you and you perk up.

“Ooh my favorite!” You press a kiss to his cheek and observe the simple breakfast spread before you.

There’s an open box of strawberries you recognize from the weekend market you visited a few weeks ago. They always run out before you’re able to wipe the sleep from your eyes to try them again.

“Where’s Ddalgi?” You say, staring at a wall, still a bit dazed as you reach for and bite into a strawberry.

“He’s outside with Soonyoung,” You stop chewing.

“Oh,” you start. Now you’re waking up, “So I guess the strawberries and the croissants are—“

“Yup, Soonyoung’s brought them over.” The way your dad says this all so casually makes you want to scream. He hasn’t even looked up from his game.

You’re still bleary-eyed, but you slide open the side door and find Soonyoung and your Golden Retriever on the patio. They turn their heads to you at the same time, both happily munching on something.

“Kwon, what are you feeding my dog?” Your heart is racing, your mind suddenly going to the possibility of Ddalgi having eaten something he isn’t allowed.

“Strawberries!” Soonyoung gleefully exclaims, raising one in the air, “I found out that they were quite good for them! Whitens their teeth and they have a really healthy enzyme or something.”

“That’s cannibalism,” you frown as Ddalgi sniffles at Soonyoung’s hand, asking to eat another of his namesake.

“But look, he likes them so much,” You can’t help but roll your eyes as you watch Ddalgi charm yet another guest.

You make soft cooing noises at your dog, but he refuses to separate himself from Soonyoung, who is happily plucking the leaves off of the strawberries, popping them into his mouth, and offering them to Ddalgi.

You frown again. Your dog wasn’t there when you woke up, meaning you were deprived of your routinary 30 minutes of giving him sleepy kisses and cuddling before mustering enough strength to get out of bed.

You sigh and drop yourself onto a sunchair, crossing your arms over your chest. You weren’t wearing a bra.

“What are you doing here Soonyoung?”

He’s trying to avoid your eyes, pretending to squint at the distance, “I was just in the neighborhood and decided to drop off some breakfast.”

“You live like 10 houses down, you’re always in the neighborhood.”

“They’re big houses,” He says in all seriousness, finally meeting your eye.

You try to hold it in, but the second he breaks out in laughter, you can’t help but join in.

When he catches his breath he says, “I just wanted to make up for last night.”

“Last night?”

“Yeah, I just wanted to say that what you saw… wasn’t what you saw,” he explains poorly.

You nod playfully, putting on a faux smirk, “What I saw doesn’t matter,” You say, “Your business is your business.”

The reality is that you want to make it your business.

Sleep had come with much difficulty the night prior, your heart reminding your head of all the silly interactions you’d had with Soonyoung growing up. You tossed and turned, thinking of how you could have used them to your advantage. To maybe charm him all those years ago. Maybe then you would have been the pretty thing on his arm during team dinners or wearing his jersey during games.

“Why were you even out that late?” Soonyoung questions, knocking you out of your reverie.

“Woke Ddalgi up while watching a movie,” you explain.

“New one for The Log?”

The Log was the unofficial horror film log you had started on your Instagram a few years back. You didn’t think anyone really paid any attention to that but some of your film buff girlfriends.

“You keep up with The Log?” You ask, genuinely surprised.

“Hell yeah,” He says, eyes lighting up, “I don’t have the time to always watch the movies but I like to know what they’re about. Vernon made us watch that one where they made that girl play Hide and Seek, at the last team dinner.”

“Ready Or Not,” you say, providing him with the title.

“Yeah, that one!”

“It’s a pretty good one. Good choice.” You nod in acknowledgement at his teammate’s superb film taste.

“So do you and Ddalgi always do that?” Soonyoung asks, circling back to the previous topic.

“What, 2AM walks? Yup.”

Soonyoung gapes at you then looks to Ddalgi as if he’d understand Soonyoung’s disbelief.

“Yeah! All the time, even!” You begin to explain, “He always has to go out once he’s woken up. It doesn’t even matter what time it is.”

You can hear your dad calling for him from inside the house, catching your attention.

“You should text me,” Soonyoung says all of a sudden.

“What?” You’re genuinely taken aback. You don’t even have his number.

“If you two are going for a walk,” He says earnestly, looking you dead in the eyes, “You should text me.”

You’re stunned speechless. Before you even muster up enough courage to say something, he stands up, gives Ddalgi a pat on the head, and goes inside.

You’re too much of a coward to do anything. Too afraid to go inside, knowing he’s in there talking with your dad. You wait until you hear him bid your dad goodbye before you and Ddalgi go back inside to eat the strawberries.

Upstairs there’s an unread message on your phone waiting to give you the surprise of your life.

Unknown Sender Today 3:49AM

Hey, I'm sorry about earlier!!! It really wasn't what you think bec That was my cousin 😩

Pls the thought of people thinking the two of us are dating makes me sickkkk

R u there

One day you’re going to get told off for just walking about the HYBE Training Center as you pleased but that day will not be today. The perks of having pretty much grown up in this building meant that you almost knew it inside out and upside down. The promotion from “A Coach’s Daughter” to “The Manager's Daughter” is a big one and one you never really thought of taking full advantage of.

As you grew a bit older you found your own interests and opted for after school extracurriculars, taking the train home with your friends, and soon, time spent walking through these halls in your school uniform dwindled down to zero.

It makes what you’re doing now a little awkward.

While you weren’t skulking around like a creep, this was far from what it used to be. You’ve completely run out of your childish charm that made being a menace around the center cute. Now you were just Mr. Cho’s temporary stay at home daughter, much too old to be bringing her old man lunch.

You remember walking next to your father, acting self important and snooty, thinking you were far better than the silly boys who spent hours kicking a ball around a pitch only to net one or two goals a game, and celebrating those goals as if they were playing in the San Siro in Italy. You were all just in Gangnam. Of course this was all to veil the poorly hidden enthusiasm you yourself had for the game. And the players. A player.

Soonyoung.

It isn’t uncommon for players to start of their careers in bottom or midrank teams, make a name for themselves, then get transferred to teams in the upper rungs. Several of the Diamonds’ players had such histories.

But not Soonyoung.

Soonyoung had grown up in these halls probably more than you did. You don’t know when exactly he joined the Diamonds but he’s one of the few players on the first team that’s been here since his grass roots days. Aside from his dedication to the sport, he was without a question, dedicated to the Diamonds.

You suppose some twenty or so years have led to this.

You’re standing in front of a wall-sized photo of this year’s squad. Soonyoung is standing proudly at the center with his arms folded over his chest and the Captain’s armband wrapped around his bicep. After the shock and upset that wracked the city upon Seungcheol’s retirement and subsequent abdication from the post of captain, Soonyoung had a heavy burden on his shoulders to get the Diamonds back in action.

It was impressive what he’s done in three years.

“You never texted me ba–”

“Oh my fucking GOD!”

You were a second away from caressing poster Soonyoung’s face on the wall when the voice of the real Soonyoung knocked you out of your reverie. You can’t see your face but you know you’re beet red and frazzled when you turn to look at Soonyoung who has a jolly smile on his face, eyes forming crescents.

He’s dressed in training gear, a simplified version of the home kit with the number 1 on the middle of the shirt. He’s slightly flushed from what may be exertion from the session, hands free of the gloves he’s usually wearing.

“You can’t just do that!” You cry, a hand on your chest to ease your rapid heartbeat.

“Sorry, peaches,” He says, the nickname making your ears perk up.

“Please, not that tiredass nickname.” You can’t help but roll your eyes.

Peaches was a family nickname that originated from way back when you were born with no hair on your head but peach fuzz. Your dad had a particular affinity for it and had used it up until now. Everyone else from his close friends to co-workers had taken to the nickname as well and it had become your unofficial Diamonds title.

Now even his players were calling you Peaches.

“It’s a cute name,” Soonyoung says.

“My dad has a penchant for nicknames, truly,” You begin, “Peaches for me, Hoshi for you.”

Hoshi, Soonyoung’s nickname, had been a moniker bestowed upon him by your father some time in the 2010s. Tiger’s gaze, it had meant. An apt description for how Soonyoung’s eyes sharpen when he’s on the pitch.

He’s become known for it, how he shifts from Soonyoung to Hoshi when the whistle blows, signaling the start of a match. You’ve fallen down a TikTok rabbit hole of these Soonyoung to Hoshi transformation compilations one too many times before. Not that that’s anyone’s business but your own.

“What’re you doing here? Haven’t seen you around here in ages,” Soonyoung says, scratching the back of his head and ruffling his hair. It’s longer than you remember it being, like he hasn’t cut it since the end of the last season.

It looks good.

You hold up the paperbag in your hand, “Wanted to surprise my dad with some lunch, but uh, I haven’t done this in a while, so I kind of forgot to check his schedule before heading over.”

Soonyoung nods in understanding.

“He’s skipping the start of morning practice for a meeting of some sort with Seungcheol. He should be back in maybe twenty for the second half,” Soonyoung explains, ”We’re starting back in a while. You should come watch while you wait.”

Watching training sessions had been a weekend pastime. Getting through morning sessions on Saturdays meant lunch out, heading to the mall, or your favorite, seeing a matinee show afterwards. You’d spent hours sitting around the pitch dedicated for the under-18 team’s coaching staff with a book in your hands (a mere prop, really), secretly eyeing the cute older boys and, when the fates would permit, the under-15 team playing on the adjacent pitch.

You can picture it in your mind’s eye – Soonyoung and Wonwoo, the two members of the Diamond’s current team who were in the same batch of grassroots players, shoving each other as they walked from the dugout to their team’s pitch. They’d offer a polite nod to your father and his staff, and a small wave to you. The memory makes you smile slightly as you nod at Soonyoung and let him lead you to the main pitch.

Throughout the years, the constant exposure to one another led you to befriend the players that stuck around. It was surface level, but the familiarity is welcome as you really take in how long its been since you’ve involved yourself with the Diamonds on a personal level. Despite the teenage angst and the mostly made up agony from those years, you hold them all in your silly little heart dearly.

You suppose its only fair that things have changed since then. When Soonyoung leads you to the main pitch, it’s far bigger than the ones he and Wonwoo used to play on, back when you’d eye them doing drills and blushing when they’d pull their shirts up to clear their eyes of sweat. Now Soonyoung strides onto the pitch with confidence that comes with years of experience and success under his belt. It looks good on him. It looks right, even.

When you turn to the spectator seats you find yourself met with familiar faces. You can't help the excitement that courses through you as pigtails and pink ribbons run towards you.

“Seunghee-ya!” You squeal as a little girl launches herself into your arms.

Seungcheol, your father’s assistant manager and an ex-captain of the Diamonds, had blessed the team with their own little princess four years ago. In no time she had taken to the attention of her uncles and their respective partners like a fish to water. She’s what you imagine you were like at four years old and stomping around the pitch in pink cleats and a mini version of the home kit on.

She peppers your face with kisses and you press a big one to her cheek in response and you carry her on your hip. You turn to Soonyoung and find him grinning at the exchange between the two of you.

You can’t help but blush before saying, “Sorry, its just been so long since I’ve gotten to babysit her.”

The smile on Soonyoung’s face just grows, “Nah, it’s fine. I get it. It’s cute. You both are.”

The flush on your cheeks feels downright painful now as you try to pretend you didn’t hear anything Soonyoung had said and instead head towards where Seunghee’s mom is seated with a few other spectators. Soonyoung just follows behind you, not saying a word.

You go up to Seunghee’s mom, Sunhee, and pass her daughter along as you exchange hellos and how are yous. When you meet her eye, she raises a well manicured eyebrow at you then quickly flicks her eyes over at Soonyoung before eyeing you again.

You make a face as if asking her to drop it, but a smile threatens her lips and you cut her off before she says something that might embarrass you further.

“I was going to bring my dad some lunch, but he wasn’t in his office and I kind of just ended up wandering around. Hoshi found me is all,” You explain.

“Sure.” Is Sunhee’s only acknowledgement before sitting back down with her daughter.

“You’ll be okay hanging out here, right?” Soonyoung says, gesturing to the seats in front of you.

“Yup, I’ll be fine. I’ve been sitting at the WAG bench forever,” You joke, before realizing how it sounded and quickly correcting yourself, “I mean, because of my mom! Like, you know, WAG for over twenty five years, and all of that haha! Not that I’ve ever been a WAG? Like imagine that, haha! I wish!”

You want to scream.

Soonyoung just nods and you bite the smile threatening your lips as sit yourself down next to Sunhee.

“That was like watching a car crash, I couldn’t look awa–”

“Stooop,” You whine, dropping your head onto her shoulder as Soonyoung walks away.

You had been sitting at the WAG bench for ages. Just like little Seunghee is right now, you had accompanied your mother to many of your dad’s training sessions and matches, both when he was an active player and then later on when he became a part of the coaching staff. It’s only really hitting you now that you were sitting at the WAG bench with no real purpose.

Sunhee and her daughter were her for Seungcheol, and up a few rows you spotted Bang Ahreum sitting in her boyfriend’s lap, giggling. If it were the weekend, and not a random Thursday, you’re sure a few more ladies would fill the seats.

“You’d make a really cute WAG,” Sunhee says with a giggle, “Soonyoung would agree.”

You can’t help the small smile of appreciation at Sunhee’s words, indulging at the little fantasy, but turning towards the slight commotion coming from the players on the pitch as they greet the newcomers of Seungcheol and your father.

You send a big wave towards your dad, catching his attention and seeing him wave and smile back and he walks to you. You fix the little snacks you’d put together in your paperbag and pull one out to hand over to Sunhee with a little wink before standing and dusting off your jeans. You greet your dad with a hug and a kiss to his cheek. He leaves training in Seungcheol’s capable hands, wanting to enjoy the surprise of having you back at HYBE like the old days.

The players all wave and bid you two goodbye when a loud, “BYE PEACHES!” comes from the chorus of Jun, Woozi, and Wonwoo by the goal at the far end of the pitch. You turn with a laugh and wave goodbye and catch Soonyoung’s eye from behind his teammates.

He sends a small wave and smile before he makes a phone with his gloved hand and brings it up to his ear, quirking his eyebrow, as if in challenge.

You shake your head and offer a little nod, hoping he sees from where he’s watching you.

“What was that about?” Your dad asks with a laugh as well.

You aren’t sure and tell him just as much.

If there was ever a time you thought your dad must’ve been clued in in your debilitating crush on Soonyoung, it was when you were sixteen and in need of a date. Being sent to a stuffy all girls school meant you had to deal with all the annoying ceremonials and traditions like classes spent on ladylike dancing and good manners in front of boys.

That was all to be put into practical use in your 10th year, where those in your year were allowed to take part in a charity dinner. It was really just some lame version of American dances that your school had pirated and you had dreaded since entering high school. While it was really a family and friends thing, people really mostly paid attention to two things: what you wore and who your date was.

Most students played it safe by bringing their parents and wearing their mom’s jewelry, but it was the perfect opportunity for the upper grades to bring their boyfriends and show off to everyone that they were so cool and mature. You want to say you’re unaffected, but upon hearing that most of your friends were brining people other than their dads, you were starting to sweat.

Despite having been around boys your whole life thanks to your dad’s work, it wasn’t like that ever took fruit in any way, shape, or form. At sixteen you had never had anyone show any interest in you aside from asking about your dad or if they could somehow get into the club through your connections.

Your dad had likely warned away any interested guys or set a rule of ‘hands off my daughter!’ from an early age. It wasn’t until recently did you find out that your suspicions were somewhat true and the team had a long standing rule that family was off limits, all thanks to Jeonghan’s girlfriend cluing you in.

In addition to that, after you’d started putting more time into your extra curriculars and found hobbies you could be passionate about. Your interest in meeting boys and finding romantic connections simply just didn’t register. At this age even Soonyoung was just sitting at the corner of your mind, your crush only making itself known if your dad mentions him in passing.

With the charity dinner coming closer and closer, you were running out of time to look for someone to take you. Your brother and any of his friends were out of the picture, all off to college and too busy to take you to what he’d deem a silly little dance. You had no cousins your age that lived around the area, so that was out of the picture. And unlike your friends, you had zero to no male friends to ring in a favor to.

The realization had dawned over you slowly and torturously–were you so undesirable that no boy would look your way if not for the man you called your dad? Was the only time you could interact with the male species through your after school drama club? It was all so mortifying.

You had explained as such to your mother as you faceplanted onto your parents’ bed, dumping onto her the woes of being a teenager and the troubles of girlhood that you were merely at the cusp of.

“You can ask your dad if he has any players who can take you,” She had suggested offhandedly.

You’d already considered that weeks prior. You knew that some of his players were already making names for themselves in the juvenile leagues and Under-18 National Team. Surely bringing one of those players would have you as the Belle of the Ball. But you quickly shut that down because the only way that would happen was if you asked your dad. That in itself was an embarrassing enough idea that you want to die just thinking about it.

With your mother bringing it up again, you can’t help but partially entertain the idea. If she brought it up, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

During dinner that evening the topic of the Charity Dinner is brought up in the middle of one of your dad’s training stories. He was going on about how close he had gotten with this crop of Under-18s, watching them grow since he became part of the club’s training staff after his retirement from professional playing.

Soonyoung in particular was growing up to be quite the goal keeper.

You tried to keep your eyes down and trained to your quickly cooling Samgyetang, avoiding either of your parents’ eyes but it was to no avail as your mom joyfully mentioned the school activity. You didn’t need a mirror to know how red your ears had gotten.

“Do you think Soonyoung would mind taking her to the Charity dinner?”

You wanted to drown yourself in the soup when you brother laughed and your dad had coughed.

“You’re thinking of asking the starting Keeper of the U-18 National Team to take this loser to her pseudo-prom?” Your brother mocked.

You sent him a scathing look as your mother said his name as a warning, “It’d be a good idea! Soonyoung’s a really good boy.”

“I–uh, I’ll check with him,” Your dad had said and that was that.

The days that followed that were torturous but you were hopeful. You couldn’t help yourself when you had daydreamed about what kind of night the Charity Dinner would be with Soonyoung on your arm, and you were unable to stop yourself from gushing to your friends about the possibility of a teenage celebrity coming as your date.

Your date.

You were over the moon with the realization that your crush was going to be escorting you to this event and that it could possibly a kicking off point for you two to get closer and maybe become something more.

papa 💛 Today 1:28PM

were you able to asksoonyoung?

I’ll ask him later.

That Monday you had texted your dad.

Training was every day except Fridays and weekends, so you had known they’d see each other.

Not wanting to sound too eager, you had dropped the subject and thought that you’d allow your dad to his task.

On Tuesday, you had heard nothing.

On Wednesday, you were going out of your mind in anticipation. More and more people were talking about the dinner and your big talk about your date had started to taste ashen in your mouth.

After school you couldn’t help yourself as you sent a “Did you ask Soonyoung yet? What did he say?” off to your dad’s number, unable to focus as you mess up the lines in a monologue you knew by heart just last week.

After rehearsals you had felt your heart lodge itself in your throat at you took in the words on your phone, trying to keep the pressure building in your temples at bay.

papa 💛 Today 2:04PM

did u ask soonyoung yet? what did he say?

I am your dad, not one of your friends. You still need to talk to me with respect.

Soonyoung has a prior commitment on that day and can’t attend the dinner.

You felt hot tears well at your eyes as you blinked rapidly to shoo them away and wiped at your face to avoid any questions from your peers.

It didn’t help that your dad had picked you up that day, the car ride tense and completely awkward for both of you, you’re sure. You had grasped at straws to make sure the topic of the dinner or of Soonyoung did not come up, your usual How did training go? out of the question. Instead you had lied about how good rehearsals had gone and how happy your moderator was with your performance.

Once you got home you had skipped dinner and cried in the shower while Taylor Swift blared from your iPod Touch.

Drama really was the perfect club for you.

With Soonyoung unavailable, you had decided to go stag—which was a perfectly acceptable decision. Still, you felt the sting of rejection as it burned deep in your heart. Your dress was gray, a perfect match for the heavy raincloud that hung over your head, you thought. And though it swayed and flounced perfectly when you twirled, you couldn’t help the dissatisfaction painted on your face.

When you had dragged yourself down the stairs, you were already bemoaning how you didn’t want to take any photos, but was surprised to see your dad standing at the foot of the stairs, fixing his cufflinks while your mom adjusted his tie. A gray that matched your dress perfectly. You took his arm proudly and smiled for all the photos your mom directed your brother to take.

That night your dad drove to your school in his flashiest car, made a jaw dropping donation, and pretended like he could dance. On his suggestion, you had left the dinner earlier and stopped by a Lotteria instead. You rested your chin on his shoulder while he ordered your usuals and you ate and laughed before heading home.

That night he had pressed a long kiss to your forehead before sending you off to bed.

Mustering enough courage to finally text Soonyoung takes about a week.

His number is saved as a conservative Kwon Soonyoung (Diamonds) as if he was a business associate you didn't want to get mixed up with your regular contacts. You stare at the conversation window for longer than than deemed normal, though. You haven’t been this nervous to message a boy since you were a freshman in university, that by the time you actually send the message, Ddlagi is whining and anxious to get going.

kwon soonyoung (diamonds) Today 2:04PM

would u happen to be awake ?

Soonyoung’s swift reply almost gives you whiplash because you hadn’t expected it to come so soon, or for it to come at all.

kwon soonyoung (diamonds) Today 11:04PM

would u happen to be awake ?

You bet I am

When you look at yourself in the mirror, you find that you're far from what you deem as “Soonyoung worthy.” But when your phone pings with another message, you find that you don’t have the luxury of time.

It also wouldn’t make any sense if Soonyoung ever caught you outside and your “just woke up like this” couture was inconsistent. Right. Baggy hoodie and pajama shorts will definitely have to do.

You’re kind of at a loss when you read the message as you clip on Ddlagi’s leash and put on a pair of outdoor shoes. Soonyoung becoming your neighbor in the year of our Lord 2023 was not something you considered, and definitely not something you thought would ever lead to tandem dog walking.

But when you open your door, it kind of takes your breath away when you see him, soft and barefaced in his own ratty hoodie and sweats combo, smiling at you from behind the garden gate. This image of him almost rewrites the last ten or so years of his semi-absence in your life, offering a chance to relive some teenage fantasies you’d set aside as impossibilities.

“Hi,” comes your small, hesitant whisper of a greeting when you’re standing face to face.

“Hi,” he replies simply, a hint of hesitation as well, but he’s smiling, still.

Ddalgi is a bundle of excitement when he sees the newest addition to your night walk and tugs at your arm impatiently, wanting to shower Soonyoung with kisses, the gate between them be damned. It makes Soonyong let out that little laugh that makes you want to die and the small smile he gives you spreads on his face wider at Ddalgi’s joy.

Your delay in texting him had come from the fear of not having anything to talk about. Despite all the years together you weren’t always actually together. You worried that the initial connection of being in your dad’s office or within the halls of HYBE has withered away any possible topic for you to broach without it being forced or awkward.

God, you always hated the talking stage. And while that’s obviously not what this is (you think), you don’t want to mess up at least being friends with Soonyoung. And you should have known that would be enough to break the tension with Soonyoung. Conversation comes easily between the two of you with him as a natural people person and you as a natural yapper.

“You managed to catch the game today?” He starts.

“I managed to catch it in my free time,” You answer coyly.

Partially true. Being in between jobs meant nearly every minute of the day was ‘free time.’

“And?” He goads.

“And what?”

“What’d you think!”

“That late game save was insane,” It seems like you’re laying it on thick but the way Soonyoung preens makes it worth it.

“Nah, it was nothi—“

“But!” You interject.

Soonyoung gives you an incredulous look, “BUT?”

“But you challenged it too late,” you start, “You could have definitely gone for the tackle while he was a ways away from the goal.”

“No way, Kang would’ve made that shot!” He argues back, he’s amused by your argument but doesn’t believe you.

“He wouldn’t have!” You laugh at how badly he isn’t taking your criticism. “Kang is a right foot kicker, he was coming at you from the far left, the angle was all wrong for him!”

“What! How can you do that?” He accuses.

“Do what?”

“Say exactly what coach did,” Soonyoung says as you two walk past the Jang’s and the bush you so unceremoniously hid behind that night.

“No way,” You say in slight disbelief, “But that just means I’m right!”

“I–” Soonyoung starts, “That’s not the point!”

“Sure it wasn’t, Captain,” You smirk and let Ddalgi drag you over to the patch of grass by Soonyoung’s own gated property.

“You should come see the game in person next time you’re free,” He suggests, shoving his hands deep into his hoodie pockets and avoiding your eyes.

His eyes look a little pink from the cold.

“I don’t know…” Just as it was with the training center, you haven’t really been as present at the Gangnam stadium as you did when you were much younger.

“Oh come on, you used to go all the time when your dad was first made manager!”

You blush at that. You try not to read into it, but there’s a little bit of a rush that comes over you at the idea of Soonyoung taking notice of you back then, even if it was some 8 years ago and you were probably a completely different person.

“I don’t know…” You say, not wanting to commit to anything, “It’s just been so long and I’m worried it’ll feel a bit awkward just popping up like I did back at HYBE.”

“No way! You’ve been Diamonds family since like, conception!” He argues.

You give him a pointed look.

“Sunhee and Seunghee come a lot, Ahreum tries to make it to just about every game too,” Soonyoung lists down faces you’re familiar with, “And I mean, you can’t beat the home crowd.”

You can’t help the smile that blooms on your face then, “That’s very true, Captain. You drive a hard bargain.”

He smirks as if to say well, what can I say!

Then he says, eyes trained to the sky, “If it means anything, I’d want you to be there too.”

There’s a beat of silence.

“Yeah?” You ask and he finally looks back.

“Yeah.”

“Okay. I’ll come to the next home game.”

You’re standing by the path that leads straight to Soonyoung’s garden gate and you tut at Ddalgi to head back towards your house as he’s relieved himself while you were conversing with Soonyoung.

“I guess this is where we say goodnight?” You say, walking backward.

“What, no way,” Soonyoung says, following you, “I’ll walk you home.”

“Soonyoung, we’re literally at your house,” You deadpan.

“Yeah, so what?” He waves it off and jogs next to you and following your stride, “I want to walk you home.”

kwon soonyoung (diamonds) Today 10:42PM

Meet you at your gate

This text becomes Soonyoung’s go-to on nights and early mornings when he joins you and Ddalgi for short walks around the neighborhood. Even with the football season on going and your job hunting taking up both of your daytime schedules, you’ve found these walks to be the most sought after moments of your day.

Having these twenty or so minutes with Soonyoung almost everyday feels like some kind of silly dream come true. His presence feels less like something out of the ordinary, and you feel yourself beginning to feel less like you’re fumbling for something everytime you and your dog step out to meet him.

kwon soonyoung (diamonds) Today 9:36PM

No walk tonight?

had his monthly checkups today he's out like a light sorry 😔

Nah its cool You still down for a walk though?

bet

Without Ddalgi there to serve as the focal point of your walk, you’re left with little choice but to put all your attention on him. And for someone who's been doing that for most of their pre-teen years, as a twenty eight year old it serves as quite the struggle. Despite your newfound confidence in spending time with him here and there, somehow the air feels a little different this evening.

Soonyoung is set to take off for international duty in a few days and you’re loathe to admit that you’re a little sad that this little growing habit of late night walks was taking a little bit of a break. You’re lost in your thoughts when Soonyoung, expectedly, breaks the silence.

“I’m happy we’re becoming good friends,” He says.

A little goofy smile comes onto your face. You know it’s a little silly looking because you can feel the corners of your lips twitching as you keep your cool.

“We are friends, Soonyoung,” You say, “Unless, I’ve been reading things wrong these past like, fifteen years.”

“No, I mean real friends,” He insists with a bright smile, “Like friends who do stuff together and talk about their interests and stuff.”

He’s right. You’ve always just been in each other’s peripheries, but up until recently, you had never really had any real conversations or interactions with each other.

“We were around each other so much growing up,” He reminisces, “I remember you were always doing homework in your dad’s office or like, reading a book on the pitch. How you could focus, I have no idea. We were so fucking loud.”

You flush at the belated attention. Back then you had done your best to seem aloof and above it all, but the idea that Soonyoung had somehow still seen you is a lot to take in so many years later.

“I guess when you put it like that,” You start, “It is nice being friends with you after all these years.”

Friends is just the start of what you want with Soonyoung. But at this point you feel like it would be a disservice and dishonest to seek something more from him. You can’t imagine what his life must be like, if Soonyoung from sixteen years ago would have ever thought this would be his reality. So you ask him as much.

“Is it hard?”

“What is?” He clarifies.

“Making friends?”

He gives you a funny look, as if he’s not quite sure what you’re getting at.

“I mean as you, you know? Captain of the Cheongdam Diamonds, part of the World Cup team last year, and like, just being a professional player and all of that.”

Soonyoung hums for a bit, considering his answer, “I guess it’s easy for Hoshi.”

Now it’s your turn to give him a confused look.

“Every season we get new members on the squad and as captain, I become friends with them. Meeting new people at events or work engagements, I’m able to build good bonds and stuff like that. But I think that’s Hoshi who's good at it.”

“And Soonyoung?” You suggest.

“I think Soonyoung is a little shy,” He laughs, blowing at his hands to keep them warm. You feel your fingers twitch at your sides, wondering what his hands would feel like clasped between your own, your breath warming them up.

“Sometimes I’m still a little shocked and like, astounded that this is my life,” The two of you have gotten to his house now and he takes a moment to take the property in.

Just as many of the other houses and properties in the neighborhood, its quite a house. More modern than those on your street due to how newly developed it is. It’s definitely something he should be proud of. As the daughter of an ex-professional player, you’re aware of the economic benefits that come with the job.

And Soonyoung is very good at his job.

“Did you always know you’d make it?” You prod, joining him in marveling at his home of just four months.

He lets out a bark of a laugh, “I think I ran towards this dream like I had no other choice. I think I would have rather died than be anything other than me now.”

You turn to look at him and smile, “Well if anyone deserves it, it's you.”

“Oh come on, now you’re just laying it on thick.” He says.

“No way!” You argue, “I’ve seen every step you’ve taken to get here, Captain. You deserve it.”

“Don’t remind me, you’ve seen me through just about every goddamn phase I’ve ever been through,” He whines, rubbing at his face in embarrassment, “My academy days were brutal. Fucking Wonwoo cruised through that shit so smooth.”

You can’t help but laugh at the memory of the two of them. While Wonwoo wasn’t as permanent a fixture in your father’s office as Soonyoung was, you still saw him quite often, with him and Soonyoung stuck at the hip for years.

The left-back had always been tall and lean even as a pre-teen with black hair swooping across his forehead in what was a then-fashionable mop. There were always girls giggling in the stands talking and gushing about Wonwoo. Then you remember Soonyoung who stood next to him with his braces and choppy mullet and soft round cheeks and you can’t help but smile fondly at the days gone by.

“I think you did fine on your own.”

Soonyoung shakes his head as if there was no way you’d understand his boyhood woes, “Still, I think twelve year old me would piss himself if he ever found out we’d made it pro, we live in this house, we’re friends with you.”

Your ears perk up at that but you bite the smile threatening your lips, “Yeah, why’s that?”

“Oh come on, don’t make me say it,” He says, cheeks tinged pink.

“No! You already said it so I might as well come out with it!” You laugh.

He gapes at you for a second before shutting his mouth, shutting his eyes in embarrassment, then turning to look at you again.

“Okay, for a lot of the guys in my crop of players back then, you were kind of like the first girl we ever knew and wanted to impress, you know? It didn’t help that your dad was an actual living legend.” He says, the flush on his face seemingly contagious as you feel a warmth in your face as well.

“Shut up, now you’re just gassing me up.”

“Now you can’t take the heat?” He laughs as you two continue walking, your heart at ease as you walk past his house and not back towards your own, your walk far from over.

“Well they can all rest easy, I’m not much to fight over now,” You say lightly.

“Why not?” Soonyoung says, almost dead serious.

The atmosphere around you feels a little heavier now and you feel as though you must have said the wrong thing. You want to smack your head for feeling a bit too comfortable around Soonyoung to let the thing in the back of your mind rear its ugly head.

You always knew your self deprecation was going to kick you in the ass one day.

“It’s nothing!” You panic, “I’m just saying, I’m nothing to write home about, is all!”

“Why would you say that?” Soonyoung says, genuinely confused.

“I–it’s nothing, Soonyoung,” You fight to get out, “Can we drop it?”

Soonyoung only nods and allows you the comfort of a change in topic. He talks about their upcoming match against Croatia; how he wishes one day he’ll be able to captain at the national level, talking about how well his nickname matches the white Tiger logo of the National team.

You’re thankful he doesn’t bring anything up for the rest of the walk, but it should come as no surprise when he walks you to your gate he speaks up on it.

“If it's worth anything, I think there’s something to write home about. Tons. Paragraphs, even.” He says it lightly, jokingly even.

The smile on his face is so radiant that it tickles that little spot in your heart that triggers a smile of your own.

“Goodnight, Soonyoung.”

“Sweet dreams!” He shouts as he walks backwards, heading to his own house, as if not wanting to turn away from you until he sees you smile.

Unknown Sender Today 8:19AM

hi hi since the boys are out on international duty u wanna lunch w sunhee n meeee oh!!! this is ahreum btw 🩷 i amsked gyu to ask soonie oppa for ur number but ur meanie bf wouldnt give it to me

so i asked coach cho hihi hope u dont mind!!

save my num pls!!! 🩷🩰🫧

WE 🩷 WAGS @KFAWAGs • may 8 New photo of #BANGAHREUM from the Fred Jewelry event! #KimMingyu #K9M #CDFC

ahreum (omg) 🩷🩰🫧 Today 8:19AM

save my num pls!!! 🩷🩰🫧

ahreum hi! uhhh idk how to say this but soonyoung and i arent dating

girl what

“That makes absolutely no sense,” Ahreum says, her pretty eyelashes fluttering as she blinks at you in disbelief.

“Ahreum,” Sunhee warns as she takes a sip of her coffee.

“But the lovestagrams!” She cries out.

You don’t know what to tell her that won’t disappoint her. It’s 3PM on a Friday and you’ve spent about three hours convincing two extremely well known WAGs that you are not in fact dating Kwon Soonyoung.

Unfortunately.

Grabbing lunch with Sunhee and Ahreum is more intimidating in theory than practice. While worlds apart in their daily lives, they were probably the two most publicized WAGs of their respective generations.

Back when Seungcheol had been front and center for the Diamonds, Sunhee had been a permanent fixture at games. She was the WAG for ages with how long she and Seungcheol have been together. She was basically like a cool, funny older sister to you and much of the current squad.

Ahreum on the other hand was an enigma of her own. It should come as no surprise that the Diamonds’ flashiest player would have a girlfriend that matched him in renown. Mingyu’s girlfriend may stand at just five feet tall, but she commanded the room easily with her light presence and sometimes overly excitable energy.

Must come with the job of being a top female K-Pop idol.

It should come as no shock that after your brief exchange over text, Ahreum had insisted you change into a cute little springtime dress and took a cab to a lunch spot in Garosu-gil within the hour. She had dragged you away from the maître d’ the second you arrived to sit you down in front of her and Sunhee. She’s been trying to pull out every single sordid detail of your debilitating childhood crush on the Diamonds’ captain and keeper all afternoon.

“They aren’t lovestagrams,” You try to argue, “They’re just regular, you know, posts!”

“But they matched!” She cries out, “I was so close to turning on notifications for both of you in case you updated while I was at practice or something!”

“I guess it just happened. We went to some nice places, that's all.” You wished there was something there, but Soonyoung has had a wealth of opportunities if he was interested in you. He’s had them since you were like, twelve.

“Maybe he’s just shy,” Sunhee offers, “I saw you two at training a few weeks back. There was something there.”

“Something! Something is good,” Ahreum nods, excitedly, “I can definitely work with something!”

“Noooo,” You whine, “No working on anything!”

Ahreum flashes you an overly exaggerated frown, “Why not. You two are so cute.”

You aren’t blind to what's been happening. How you once distantly existed to Soonyoung and how rapidly that had grown into this budding friendship. And while it was fun (and at times lovely) to fantasize about what it would be like if it grew into something more, Soonyoung’s admittance that this friendship is something he appreciated keeps you grounded.

“He just doesn't like me like that,” You say, trying not to sound defeated.

“This doesn’t make sense with my fantasy.”

“I’m perfectly okay with how we are right now,” Lie. “It took years for me to befriend him like this, so I really appreciate it for what it is.” Truth.

“Years? What!” Now it was Sunhee who was shocked.

“What do you mean what!”

“Have you and Soonyoung seriously been, you know, skirting around each other for years?”

You roll your eyes playfully, “We weren’t skirting around each other, Sunhee.”

She gives you a dead serious look.

“It just–it just never happened!” You blurt out, “I had a silly little teenage crush on him and was too socially inept to do anything about it.”

Speaking it out into the world feels pathetic but it’s also been a while since you were able to let it out. You consider keeping your cards to your chest, but when you look at Sunhee and Ahreum who are both lovely and just want to chitchat, you think it shouldn’t hurt to lend your stupid teen years to today’s gossip session.

So you tell them about your disastrous attempt to have Soonyoung escort you to your Year 10 Charity Dinner and find yourself being able to smile at how melodramatic you were about it. They listen with rapt attention, coo at your antics, and can’t help the visceral melting when you retell your dad’s knight in shining armor moment.

“That shouldn’t have kept you away from Soons for so long!” Sunhee considers.

“It didn’t! Not really,” You start, “I think I kind of just had to wake up a bit after that.”

And wake up you did.

After the Charity Dinner you realized you could never show your face back at the HYBE training center, or at least in front of Soonyoung’s squad. There was no way you could sit on the pitch and be perceived by him as Coach Cho’s daughter who couldn’t get a date and had to pull strings with her dad to get one. And all things considered, even with the nepo baby connections you still showed up with your dad on your arm.

“If I’m not mistaken, Soonyoung started playing for my dad that year,” You reminisce, “I was just too embarrassed to be in front of him, you know?”

“Soonie must have hated that,” Ahreum pouts, picking at the croissant on her plate.

You doubt it, really.

“I think,” You start, “I think I never considered being friends with Soonyoung because I was so fixated on like, liking him, even if it was probably just a silly crush, you know?”

“Oh come on, it wasn’t silly. We all have crushes! It’s a teen girl thing!” Sunhee comforts.

It is a teen girl thing, you agree. But when you look at the two women in front of you, you can’t help but marvel at how they probably cruised through their teen girl crushes. Ahreum had probably just turned twenty when she and Mingyu got together while Sunhee was literally married to her teen crush, having been Seungcheol’s childhood love, their love story a favorite among Diamonds fans.

“Well, silly or not, I was sure he didn’t like me back then,” You laugh at the bitterness of years gone by suddenly making itself known, “He showed up at my school’s charity dinner the following year.”

If his rejection of your invite was the final nail on the coffin, showing up with someone else the following year buried you six feet under.

In your 11th year, you and your friends had all decided to go stag and be each other’s dates, buying matching flowers to pin to your hair and making a whole day out of getting ready together. It was such an exciting way to look at an event that was so bittersweet to you, the unnecessary burn of humiliation still there whenever you thought about the previous year’s failed attempt to get a date.

The joy lasted for maybe three hours. After all the formalities of a fancy dinner and a charity auction for the parents in attendance, the event turns into a run of the mill dance with a subpar DJ and a makeshift dance floor. You’d skipped this part the year prior and dancing like a crazy person screaming the lyrics to Best Coast’s Boyfriend to your friends was something you were looking forward to.

You don’t get to do either because first of all, you put too much trust in the DJ to play anything other than A Thousand Years and Enchanted. Second would be that, in the midst of all the people in attendance, a face you never thought you’d see in your school gym is suddenly right in front of yours.

Soonyoung was standing there in an ill fitting blue suit and his hair haphazardly gelled down and he was your every silly daydream come to life.

You remember opening your mouth to say something to him, maybe a greeting, a question on why he was there, but you quickly shut it when his attention is pulled away by an upperclassman you weren’t familiar with.

When your gazes break, the silence that seemingly engulfed you disappears and you remember where you are and the implications of Soonyoung being there.

Boys were prohibited from campus except on select days you could count on one hand. He had to be there with someone. And that someone wasn’t you.

Your hands had grown clammy at the realization and you scramble to get your bearings. When you turn around to run off to the bathroom to maybe cry in frustration, you find yourself face to face with a boy who offers you his hand and a friendly smile.

Your poor self esteem had taken such a beating from that mere shared look with Soonyoung that this hand in front of you had felt like such a kindness. So you graciously took his hand as the opening beats of Boyfriend had come on the shitty gym speakers.

kwon soonyoung (diamonds) Today 11:37PM

Heard you had lunch out with the girls

??? howd u know

Ahreum posted on her burner

SHE HAS A BURNER??? whatd she post :(( UR SUCH A GOSSIP!!

Me??? For all I know you talked shit about me with Ahreum and Sunhee all afternoon

what happens at girl lunch stays at girl lunch

That just about confirms it! You guys were talking about me!

all bad things i promise

And here i was buying your and ddlagi gifts

oh my god soonyoung u shouldnt have

Nah its cool I just saw something and picked it up

well thank u ddalgi and i eagerly await your arrival

Is this your way of saying you miss me?

i said no such thing also!! what doin

Just got back to my room from dinner Feels weird not to go on a walk right now

well rest assured ddlagi has gone on an ill timed walk already he's down

You should take his lead then Sweet dreams, peaches

goodnight soonyoung 🤍

Mingyu’s surprise birthday party was being held at this swanky private speakeasy that was a favorite of the Diamonds’ striker according to Ahreum.

Initially you had felt discomfort when you arrived. You had come down the stairs and was immediately greeted by the smiling face of Ha Yves. You didn’t know who would be considered as party guests for people as popular and famous as Ahreum and Mingyu, but you shouldn’t have been surprised if they were all celebrities or A-Listers.

The room was filled with the members of AM♡RE still scuttling around, adding finishing touches to the long table in the middle of the room. Despite the burning feeling of being out of place, you couldn’t help the smile that had spread on your face watching these celebrities put on a surprise for a friend’s birthday.

You suddenly feel unprepared for the evening, your usual extroverted flourish having diminished quite a bit lately.

The group is quick to greet you with a squeal of “Unnie!” and Choi Yena, who you’re familiar with, gives you a quick squeeze of a hug. The warm welcome eases your mind, introductions are given and you tell them you’re at their disposal with the decorating.

You quickly learn that this evening is a private affair of friends and family as more of Mingyu’s friends arrive, players from other teams that you’re familiar with, Ahreum’s brother being one of them. The implication of you being a part of that classification makes the pleasant feeling in your stomach grow, and the weight of imposition lifts from your shoulders.

You’re standing on a chair and holding up a gold foil balloon, helping Yves decide on the best placement when a bellowing “AMOOOOOOREEEE” cuts through the music playing through the speakers.

You bite your lip to stop the smile attempting to split your face in two.

Yves abandons you to go on and play the good leader and greets the members of the squad who were able to come, giving fist bumps and quick high fives. After the typical niceties, Soonyoung catches your eye, and laughs.

“What’re you doing all the way up there, Peaches?” He walks up to you, eyeing you from head to toe, and sending warmth throughout your body following the same path, “If you fall from there, you’ll be out for the rest of the season.”

The smile wins this round. You roll your eyes as he offers you a hand to help you down.

You pray your hand isn’t sweaty as you take his hand in yours, trying to step down as gracefully as you can without flashing the whole room. Your skirt much too short for standing on chairs even with the stockings you (thankfully) decided on last minute. You steady yourself with a quick grip on Soonyoung’s shoulder with your other hand.

Once you’re safely on the ground you flash him a thankful smile as you let go of his hand and shoulder.

“You good?” He asks, voice now a little quieter, only for you to hear.

You offer him a small nod, “Yeah, all good now. Better now.”

The rest of the night goes according to, if not better than, planned. Mingyu had jogged down the stairs with Ahreum and played the part of shocked boyfriend perfectly, beaming at her as she pulled the string of a party popper. He planted the biggest kiss onto her awaiting lips as you and the rest of the guests hooted at their PDA.

Mingyu flipped everyone off mid-kiss, of course.

You found yourself seated shoulder to shoulder with Soonyoung on your left and Vernon to your right, while Wonwoo sat in front of you. You’d spent the majority of the evening discussing films with the two of them while Soonyoung remarked about ones he’d yet to see, saying, “We should add that to our list.”

The list being an ever growing shared note on the Notes app on both your phones with a working list of movies you think he needs to watch.

“Dude, just get a Letterboxd account,” Vernon suggests.

“I said that too!” You laugh.

“Haha, okay laugh all you guys want,” Soonyoung says, attempting to stand up for himself, “But I just figured that shared note thing out and that works just fine for us, thank you!”

You elbow him playfully and he sticks his tongue out in retaliation.

“I’m getting another Coke, Wons you want one?” Soonyoung asks as he downs the last of his soda.

“Nah, I’m good. I’ll get another later.”

He turns to you, “Another daiquiri, passenger princess?”

You flush as he pretty much announces to everyone who was paying attention that you were coming home with him. Well, technically just riding his car to his house then walking on foot to yours as has become your routine from nights out.

“No, I think I’m good for tonight.” The realization that you were going to be seated next to him on the way home quickly sobers you up. There was no way you could get sloshed now.

He nods in understanding as he undrapes his arm from around the back of your chair and gets up.

Vernon has been pulled into a conversation by the other end of the table and you find yourself sitting in comfortable silence with Wonwoo.

Soonyoung’s best friend has become a more familiar presence in your life just as much as Soonyoung himself. It’s nice, you think, getting to know the quieter half of this duo you’ve known for so long.

You learned that Wonwoo’s not really all that quiet when Soonyoung is there to prod and pick on him, and that Soonyoung is so much more easily humbled with the keeper of all his secrets present.

“You two look like a couple,” Wonwoo says after a while.

You gawk at him, unable to think of a quick enough retort.

“Just say, ‘thank you, Wonwoo’”” He says with an easy laugh, quoting himself from a few days ago.

Now you scowl, “Take that back, Wonwoo!”

“Why? It’s the truth!” He argues, “I don’t think either of you notice how close you two always are.”

“We are not!”

“You can’t tell because you’re too busy ogling my best friend. I can because you guys keep asking me to come hang out with you two so it seems like you’re not out on a date!” There’s a smile on his face and while he’s accusatory, Wonwoo seems to get some joy out of pointing out your glaringly obvious crush on Soonyoung.

“You’re delusional,” you attempt to argue and Wonwoo can only sputter at you.

“Takes one to know one?” He retaliates.

Before you can stick your tongue out at him, pulling a card from Soonyoung’s repertoire of moves, the far end of the table starts to sing Happy Birthday.

Soonyoung is precariously carrying a two tier birthday cake and a beer pint filled to the brim with ice and Coke as he yells out the words to Happy Birthday. He’s beaming as he presents the cake to Mingyu and Ahreum urges Mingyu to make a wish.

He closes his eyes quickly, makes quick work of blowing out all the candles and giving Ahreum a kiss on the cheek.

Soonyoung cheers the loudest again and almost drops the cake as he sets it down on the table. His antics makes the rest of the guests laugh but next to him Yves, playfully whacks him on the shoulder and chastises him with a litany you can’t hear from where you’re seated.

Soonyoung bats his eyes at her and pouts cutely, no doubt attempting to ease her annoyance. You feel the blood draining from cheeks as the green monster of jealousy creeps up behind you and you avert your eyes from the scene.

When you turn back to your drink, now more water than strawberry daiquiri, you catch the look on Wonwoo’s face.

There’s a devious little smirk on his silly little cat boy face and you want to slap it off of him.

“Quit it, Jeon.”

“I don’t know what you mean, Cho.”

“I mean that look on your face,” You say with an index finger wagging in front of his glasses, “I don’t like it.”

“I don’t have a look on my face,” He laughs as he sips on his glass of Coke.

“Yes, you do! It's a sneaky little face,” you pout, “Don’t you have your own love life to worry about?”

His smirk grows into a full on grin, his teeth on full display, “First of all, no I don’t. And second, so you admit it? You’re in love with Soonyoung.”

Your heart is pounding in your ears. You don’t dare to say anything out loud for fear of who might hear because you don’t know what to say.

“Wonwoo I—“

“You know, you don’t have to worry about that,” he says, “You don’t have to worry about anything. Not with Soonyoung. Never with Soonyoung.”

Not long after everyone had their fill of the cake Ahreum lovingly baked for the occasion, people started splitting off into their own little groups around the bar to talk or have more drinks. Still, you were seated next to Soonyoung, but this time making a conscious effort to keep a comfortable distance between you two. His arm may still be draped around your chair, but this time you rested your crossed arms on the table in front of you, trying your best to stay focused on the story Heejin was telling.

You almost jolt in shock at the warm hand that rests on your knee and the breath at your ear when Soonyoung whispers, “Let’s go ahead?”

When you turn to him and try not to flinch at the close proximity between the two of you.

“You look like you’re about to nod off,” he chuckles.

Humming and nodding in agreement with him, Soonyoung clears his throat and announces, “You guys keep going but we’re headed out.”

There’s a chorus of disappointed “awws” that follow as the two of you stand and Soonyoung helps you into the coat you brought for the cold. When you turn to wave goodbye to everyone still at the party, you see Wonwoo giving you a shit eating grin and you fail to stop yourself from sticking your tongue out at him one last time that night.

“D’you have fun tonight?” Soonyoung asks, eyes flicking over to you for a second before turning back to the road before you.

“Hhm, yeah. I’m glad I went,” You say, “I almost bailed for a second.”

“Yeah? Why’s that?”

You consider for a moment if you should tell Soonyoung about your afternoon before the party. But you worry that maybe trauma dumping on him after having had such a good evening with his friends and teammates would sour the day. So you keep your mouth shut and try to wrack your brain for an acceptable reason to turn down an invite.

“I bombed at practice today,” He says out of nowhere but lightly, with a bit of a chuckle, and you know that a corner of his lip is upturned.

The focus you put in trying not to turn your head and watch him drive is commendable. You try your utmost best not just keep your eyes on him as he does the most mundane of things.

“Got into trouble for it, your dad yelled at me and all. Said I wasn’t focused.” He clicks his tongue, shakes his head and continues telling you about his day. “It didn’t get better of course, ‘cause I started overthinking it and I got worse. But you know what?”

“What?” You ask, finally looking over at him as he pulls to a stop at a busy intersection.

The red glow of the traffic light streams in through the car’s windshield despite the heavy tint and washes Soonyoung in a moody glow, only cut by the flashing lights of the LED billboards that are so commonplace in Gangnam.

“It ended,” He says as he turns to you as well, the red light offering him a respite, “Training ended and I got in my car and drove over to that speakeasy. I celebrated my teammate’s birthday, had a bunch of laughs with my friends, and now I’m driving you home.”

“Tomorrow, I’ll go back to training and try again. And if it doesn’t work out, I’ll talk to your dad again and ask for his help. And when that ends, I’ll come home and I’ll probably ask you if you want to go for a walk.”

He ends all of that with a big, bright, beautiful smile that makes your lower lip wobble. Soonyoung is so wonderful and your heart feels so vulnerable. You’re worried that you might end up going off on a litany about how your school girl crush from nearly sixteen years ago had awoken from its dormant slumber on a chilly evening in March, and was wreaking havoc in your heart and brain as it fed on every right and perfect thing Soonyoung had said to you since then.

But you keep it in.

Instead you let out a shudder of a breath and tell Soonyoung about your day.

“I feel like I’m running out of time,” You start, “Which is stupid because I’m like, twenty eight and probably not dying soon, and I know you probably won’t get it because you’ve had a career since you were like, nineteen, and that’s why I don’t think I wanted to get into it with you but also because I don’t want you to think about how pathetic I am.”

Saying all of that in one breath almost has you panting, but more than anything, it’s that worry you’ve been trying to bury in your chest all these weeks, pretending you were above it all, that’s been weighing you down.

“You know how I’ve been trying to get a new job right?”

He makes a sound of agreement, not wanting to cut you off while you were clearly in the middle of a tirade.

“Well, I feel like I’ve been floundering, you know? I put in all these applications and I do the interviews, and I do great because I know I can turn it on when I have to but it’s just such a fucking drag!”

You know you’re whining but you’ve already started and everything is coming out like a tidal wave from your mouth.

“I’ve been at this for months and today I got an email that sounds really promising but I still haven’t really gotten hired and I feel like I’m going around in circles with these companies, trying to convince them I’m the shit but it’s not like I really care all that much about them, really.”

“I just don’t want to keep wasting my time doing nothing and being no one.”

Silence. Breathe in, breathe out.

“Then I kind of got into it with my dad this afternoon,” You finally let out, “I was… I was planning to come see you at practice today. And he kind of, I don’t know… He kind of told me I couldn’t be there. That it was private practice today and that none of the girls were going to be there either and that… that maybe I was overstaying my welcome when I had no affiliation with the Diamonds.”

Soonyoung’s gripping the steering wheel firmer, from what you can tell and you want to ease his mind, but your own was aflame with the indignation you had felt that afternoon.

“I thought about skipping on Ahreum’s invite because well, I didn’t know who would be there, but I knew Ahreum and I kind of know Mingyu, and I knew that place was going to be chock full of beautiful, famous, successful people, and I just didn’t know if I could handle that after everything, you know?”

You don’t realize that you’ve made it all the way home throughout your tiny meltdown and Soonyoung has been idling in front of your family’s garden gate for a minute or two.

“Then?” Soonyoung prompts.

“What do you mean?” You’re confused.

“Then what happened?” He clarifies.

“What do you mean ‘then what happened?’ Soonyoung you were there,” You point out with an arched brow. You’re a little peeved.

“Just play along, Peaches. Don’t be a soil sport,” He encourages.

“Fine. Then I got dressed and went straight to Mingyu’s party. I helped set up, and then you guys arrived, and we had dinner and drinks, and talked about movies, and… we got in your car, and we talked, and now you’re dropping me off at home.”

“I think our days turned out pretty okay in the end,�� Soonyoung says with a gentle smile.

Oh.

soonyoung 🥅 Today 1:47PM

ddalgi misses you ig :/ come back from jeju fasterrrrr

Yes maam! And I'll make sure we win too Don't want to upset Ddalgi with a poor showing

of course he'd be so upset

This weeks feels like its going by sooooo slowly Will you be at the gala?

hate to say it but ya

I'll see you then :)

The gala Soonyoung had mentioned was the Gangnam District Arts Gala. The exclusive gala was to be televised live and the guestlist was filled with brand execs, celebrity performers, and A-List socialites.

The press release was that they were pledging obscenely large donations to uplift the arts and encourage the young, creative minds of students in schools with underdeveloped arts programs. It was a fairly new development and was something that you felt was just an excuse for rich people to dress up, drink, and bask in each other’s wealth.

Initially the idea of an entire sports team and their managers and staff being a part of such an event was uncommon. You understood if a handful of the first team was present, personalities that were instantly affiliated with big name brands like Mingyu, Minghao, Jeonghan, and even at times, Soonyoung. All the connections with the Diamonds instantly made sense when you found out the brains behind the operation.

The whole thing was planned under the watchful eye of Choi Seoah, Seungcheol’s business-mogul younger sister and Jeonghan’s girlfriend.

If you paid more attention to local entertainment news you’d be more aware of how Seoah wanted this gala to be a “family affair” and having her childhood team and Gangnam representatives, the Cheongdam Diamonds, to not only attend but also co-host the event was her goal.

You hated it as soon as you heard about it, only to somehow be roped into it last minute.

All of that led to you sitting next to your dad at the dinner table, waiting for the team to arrive from their red carpet appearance. As your dad’s (begrudging) plus one, you were free from being in front of the public eye, with the coaching staff opting to come through a different entrance. But with the first team being the event’s hosts, they were considered one of the highlights of the evening.

There was a commotion as soon as they stepped inside the venue, and rightfully so. You knew these events were always somehow about the fashion, and even you weren’t exempted from the frills and frivolities of looking good for an evening. But nothing could have prepared you for how Soonyoung would be dressed this evening.

If there was ever an expert at having their breath being taken away at the sight of Soonyoung, you would certainly be a credible candidate. Soonyoung was dressed in smart pinstripe pants and a blazer speckled with sparkling gems, but the focal point of his look had been the sheer black tank top he was wearing underneath. You had felt your throat go dry and the hairs on your arms raise when he came through the doors and the team was led to their seats.

You spend much of the night willing Soonyoung to look your way, but with him being the captain of the team meant to be the figureheads of the event, he’s got his hands full speaking to other honored guests and VIPs wanting to get a chance to meet him.

There’s a pit in your stomach where jealousy collects and starts to overflow everytime a beautiful, statuesque woman comes close to him, whispers in his ear for him to hear her better, and laughs at his jokes. You know they’re funny, and whatever joke it is, you’re sure you’ve heard it before and laughed harder.

The silliness of your mindset looms over your head like an angry cloud and you can’t help as it sours your mood even when Ahreum’s girl group comes on to perform their latest song. When it ends she forgoes sitting back with her group and you catch her slipping away with Mingyu as you had excused yourself to go to the lady’s room.

Your neck feels stiff from having to crane it to get a decent view of Soonyoung’s table the whole night but being outside of the main venue gives you a second to breathe and for you to ease your mind. When you spot a line leading out of the closest bathroom, you decide it and opt to look around the intricately designed foyer. You empty your mind as you run your gloved finger along the edge of a gilded art frame, glistening under the flickering light of a nearby decorative candle.

“I told you I’d find you,” comes a voice from behind you that spooks you so bad, you tip the decoration you were toying with off the edge of the table.

His years of practice honing his reflexes kick in and Soonyoung’s able to catch the frame before it crashes to the ground. He places it back on the table carefully, no one the wiser about its almost demise.

“What did I say about coming up behind me like that, Soonyoung!” You chastise raising a hand to slap him playfully on the chest. You stop short when your eyes catch his outfit once again and how you could see his skin so clearly even through the opaque black fabric.

Soonyoung catches your hand mid air and brings it to his lips, pressing them lightly against the silky fabric of your gloves and looks down at you, “You clean up good, peaches.”

Your skin burns so hot you feel sweat start to dot the back of your neck and you tear your hand away from him. You pretend to be unaffected, giving him a playful roll of your eyes, “You haven’t even seen the half of it yet, Kwon.”

The two of you have found yourselves in a quieter hallway, away from prying eyes and smartphones with a million megapixel cameras. It’s been about a week since you’ve seen each other and the weight of the albeit short time away from each other lifts from your mind.

“Have you been good?”

“Mmhhm,” You hum, “Better now.”

As much as you wish you could whisk him away from the party forever, you know you have to give him back to his teammates. To your surprise, Soonyoung pulls up a chair from a vacant table next to theirs and situates it right next to where he sits down.

You gawk at him for a second, unsure if you could fuck up the seating arrangement at a whim, but before he says anything, a tall elegant woman situates herself on Jeonghan’s lap and drapes a slender arm around his shoulders.

“Seoah, this is Mr. Cho’s daughter,” Jeonghan says and you straighten up with a start, offering your name and hand for his girlfriend to shake.

“Finally, we meet properly!” She says with a tinkling laugh, “Hannie’s told me all about you and Soonie. Come, sit!”

Upon her insistence you situate yourself on the chair Soonyoung had pulled up just as Ahreum and Mingyu arrive at the table, panting, and Ahreum having changed out of her performance costume into a pretty pale pink dress, her hair flowing down her back in pretty waves.

When she notices you seated at the table, she lets go of Mingyu’s hand to run over to you with a hug and a squeal of “Unnie, you’re here!”

Had Seungcheol and Sunhee been in attendance, there’s no doubt they would be seated at this table with the rest of you, and it comes to you belatedly that you were seated at the WAG table. Weeks earlier and you might have been uncomfortable at that fact, displeased with being out of place, but the longer you think about it, the more you wished that it could be the norm for you.

You’d been toying with the idea in your mind for a few days now, that maybe, just maybe, you did want to be a WAG. Maybe what’s been going on between you and Soonyoung wasn’t just a friendship that was long delayed.

Maybe, just maybe, it was okay to indulge in the prospect of Soonyoung reciprocating your feelings, and that this long standing crush was no longer unreciprocated.

The conversation between you and the rest of the table’s occupants was light and fun and with Seoah calling for more champagne every so often, you felt the tension at your shoulders melt away. Even when your father had dropped by, asking if you’d be riding back home with him, you smiled at him brightly, saying you’d find your own ride back.

You don’t miss the nod and salute Soonyoung gives him from beside you.

When you let out an unintentional yawn, the alcohol making your eyelids droop slightly, Soonyoung pushes back the sleeve of his blazer to check the time.

“We can head out if you want,” He says, “I’m sure Ddlagi’s waiting for us.”

Your heart soars at his words. You nod at him and stand as he holds his hand out to pull you up.

“Alright, that’s a wrap for the two of us,” He says, tugging off his blazer jacket, “I’ll see you guys on Monday. Ahreum, Seoah, lovely as always.”

Alarm bells are ringing and sirens are blaring in your head as Soonyoung’s bare arms come into view and you can see how the muscles of his back and stomach move beneath his skin as he waves and motions for you to follow him.

Soonyoung goes up behind you, steadying you in your heels, and places his blazer over your bare shoulders—the heat from his clothing warming you up in a split second. Ahreum’s giggle from behind you catches your attention and you manage to see her wink from the corner of your eye.

“Bye, everyone!” You greet, “Thanks for letting me crash your table.”

“Any time, lovely!” Seoah says with a flippant wave of her hand, “I’ll try to make it to lunch with you girls next time, please be there!”

“Have fun, unnie!” Ahreum calls out and you don’t know whether to smile or curse her as you and Soonyoung walk away.

“I like sitting with the WAGs,” You say kind of mindlessly as you stare out of the window, watching as Gangnam passes you and Soonyoung by.

“Yeah?” He says, encouraging you to go on.

“Yup,” You say with a pop, “It feels like I’m part of a sisterhood or something when I’m with them.”

“Yeah, they all got really close in no time, especially when Tiny came into the picture,” Soonyoung recalls, “Seoah and Sunhee are pretty much sisters now, so it was exciting for them to have someone new join in.”

“I hope they’ll welcome me as warmly,” You blurt out.

Fuck. Idiot.

There’s a beat of silence and you feel yourself floundering as if you were underwater.

“What do you mean?” Soonyoung asks, cutting into the silence.

You keep your eyes trained out of the window, willing him to let it the fuck go, but you know he won’t.

He’s about to turn to your street and you consider for a split second if it’d be feasible for you to jump out of his Maserati right this very second and hide under your sheets. Soonyoung does you a kindness by not saying anything until he pulls up in front of your house, saving you the awkwardness of having to walk home with him from his house like you usually do.

You try to quickly unbuckle your seatbelt but the second you turn your head to look for the button to press, Soonyoung gently takes your chin in between his fingers and brings your face closer to his.

In this position there’s no way for you to escape his gaze and under it you feel like you’re on fire.

“I’ll ask again,” Soonyoung starts in a whisper, as if he spoke any louder that bubble that surrounded you would pop and shatter this very moment, “What did you mean?”

This close and you can take him in, really look at him, smell him, breathe him.

“I mean,” you say slowly, gathering all the nerves you can muster, “That I want to sit on the WAG bench and cheer your name during games. I want to wear your jersey and have you dedicate saves for me.”

You gulp as you feel yourself grow in conviction, “I want to hold your trophies with you at the end of the season and bad mouth refs who give out shitty calls when you have to deal with a penalty. I want it all, Soonyoung. I want it with you.”

There it was, laid out in front of him, plain as day and no way to misinterpret. Your silly teenage fantasies had followed you into adulthood and had grown into real life yearning, hoping that the boy you had watched grow up into the most wonderful man would just take you out of your misery and say yes, that he too had felt the same tugging at his heart when he was around you.

Soonyoung’s silence was killing you as the seconds felt like hours but when his fingers twitched beneath your chin, your heart gave off a thunderous thump, and he pulled you in closer, and your eyes slipped shut.

You let out a breath through parted lips and you feel the warmth of Soonyoung’s own shaky exhale on your lower lip. Just as you feel his lip press against your own–

“I’m sorry, I can’t.”

In a flash your eyes fly open and you pull yourself away from him. Soonyoung is shellshocked at the speed at which you put distance between the two of you and how you scramble to successfully free yourself from his presence.

“Wait–wait a second, listen to me!” He tries to say, but everything sounds like a garbled mess to you.

You feel like you’re underwater again, your nose flaring as you try to get as much air into your lungs. You can feel your lips turning downwards and the telltale wobble of your lower lip. The heat and sting from behind your eyes tell you that you’re seconds away from falling apart.

How stupid. How stupid to think that after all this time he would see you as anything other than his coach’s daughter. His coach’s stupid, pathetic daughter who couldn’t do anything right, couldn’t achieve anything even after all this time.

When you free yourself from the mess of the seatbelts and you’re able to wrangle the door of his car open, you stomp out, nearly tripping over yourself in your stupid heels. Soonyoung gets out as well and tries to call out to you without causing a scene.

You’re about to open the gate to your house when you realize you’re still wearing his blazer. You’ve grown comfortable in it and the warmth of him, and it's agony as you rip it off, turn around and throw it in his face.

“Go fuck yourself, Soonyoung.”

You expect your anger and grief to fuel a tirade but you find yourself moving so slowly and so cautiously around your own home. You had guided the front door shut so that only the clicking of the locks and the springs in the knob disturbed the silence. You pressed your back against the door and held your breath as you watched the shadows move on the walls as Soonyoung pulled out of your family’s driveway.

Only when you were doused in darkness could you slowly exhale.

You feel so much smaller than you are as you tiptoe up the stairs, clutching your heels to your chest, and lifting the skirt of your dress. You had felt so beautiful tonight, only to come home feeling more rotten and ugly than you ever have in your life.

When you close your bedroom door behind you, you turn to the Golden Retriever curled up by your pillows and you sniffle. Then the first tear drops when you think of how you’re supposed to let Ddlagi know that Soonyoung won’t be coming over anymore. You bury your face into Ddalgi’s coat and allow the sobs to wrack your body.

You had always thought it would be beneath you to cry over a boy.

Feeling disappointment, anger, or sadness you would understand, it would only be normal to do so. But you felt like your body was caving in on you, the embarrassment of his rejection, the idea that you had misread all the queues, that you were deluded this whole time, thinking that maybe after all these, you would finally be worth a second thought to Soonyoung.

While the thought of losing him as a lover hurt you, the idea that you may lose him as a friend forever after what you had done has you shedding more tears. You took bits and pieces of every walk you’d been on, every movie you watched, the dinners you ate, and hid them away in your heart because you had longed for Soonyoung for so long, that all these moments were truly treasured.

But you’re also angry.

You’re angry because you know there must have been something. Sunhee had seen it that day when you came to practice, Ahreum had thought you were a couple just from photos, and Wonwoo, Wonwoo had reassured you that with Soonyoung you hadn’t a thing to worry about.

Have you all misunderstood? It couldn’t have all been in your head. Some part of it must have been true, and maybe still is.

Your anger sets you into motion. Despite having been the one to walk away in anger, you feel like maybe you were entitled to an explanation. If you were going to cut Soonyoung off from your life from here on out, you wanted to do it on your own terms.

In the shower, you worry that you were speedrunning through the stages of grief. From how immensely you felt for Soonyoung and for just how long you’ve been carrying a torch for him. For the chance that he’d look your way and think of you as someone more than just your father’s daughter who had watched him from where she sat doing her homework.

You want to yell at him. You want to curse him and shove him and tell him how much you felt for him. Maybe that way he would understand how much he hurt you.

You dress quickly and haphazardly, not caring how you look, because you’ve let him see you look worse in the past weeks, grown so comfortable in his presence to truly be yourself around him. All your past actions feel like double edged swords. On one hand you were elated, so taken with how things had panned out before this evening and on the other, you felt the dread of regret, of sharing so much of yourself, and so willingly, to someone who could walk away without a second thought.

As you rush down the stairs you childishly you wonder if your father could kick him off the team for breaking your heart.

You make a conscious effort to close up after yourself quietly, guiding the door shut gently, just as you had earlier that evening. When you turn around, your heart falls to your stomach at the sight before you.

Soonyoung stands in front of your gate looking just as he did that first night he walked with you and Ddalgi. Soft, barefaced, and dressed in a ratty hoodie and sweats, you find your false bravado whittling away in his presence. His ability to render you speechless felt so unfair but you can’t help but acquiesce to it as you always do.

You loved him like this, just him, the him you had grown so used to and so comfortable around, and so in love with.

You love him, you love him, you love him.

And that’s why you don’t stop him when he unlatches the gate and walks up towards you. You don’t stop him when he goes to stand right in front of you, towering over you and bowing his head to be closer to you. You don’t stop him when he takes your face into his hands, tilting it ever so slightly so your eyes are locked. You don’t stop him when he uses his thumb to wipe away at a stray tear that betrays the strong front you wanted to put on.

You don’t stop him when he says, “I’m sorry for what I did. And I’m sorry if this is selfish, but I’ll never forgive myself if you think I don’t want you, that you don’t fill my every fucking waking moment, that I could let you walk away like you did.”

Your chin is trembling with the effort of keeping yourself together but a ragged sob escapes your mouth as you try to make sense of what Soonyoung’s saying.

The hard look of determination on his face softens at your reaction and he shushes you, tries to ease your thundering heart but how can you when he says, “I have wanted you for so long. How could you not have known?” and finally presses his lips to yours.

Soonyoung was fifteen when he got the shock of his life

He was in the middle of a scrimmage game against the other members of his squad when he caught Coach Cho Woonjae coming down from the second pitch. His hands were already sweating in his gloves but he felt flames lick at his feet, willing himself to move quicker, react faster, anything to catch the attention of the living legend that was walking his way.

They wrapped up the game with his team managing a 1-0 win, extending his scrimmage clean sheet record. He made a show of cheering his team on, clapping them on the back and showering them in praises.

Wonwoo had raised a skeptical brow at him, clearly having noticed his odd behavior.

“You’re scaring me,” Wonwoo commented as he rubbed the sweat from his eyes.

“Fuck off,” Soonyoung laughed, “Coach Cho is watching.”

Soonyoung was eager for their coach to wrap up their training, he had wanted to go up to his idol so badly, to ask him if he saw how he played, if he had improved in any way, or if he had any wisdom to impart from one goalkeeper to another.

It turned out that Soonyoung didn’t have to do anything at all. Once the final team huddle had dispersed, Coach Cho had come over to Soonyoung himself, clapping him on the back and greeting him with a “Good job today, Kwon.”

Soonyoung tried his best not to sputter, gave him a curt bow of his head and said, “Thank you so much, Coach. I learned from the best. I meant from you! Because, you know, you’re the best.”

I’m a fucking idiot, Soonyoung thought to himself.

Coach Cho could only laugh at his blunder and offered him a thanks, son, so at the very least Soonyoung could take pride in having been funny. But when his laughter died down, he had affixed Soonyoung with a look that had been, at that time, unreadable.

Then, with no preamble, Coach Cho asked him if he could take his daughter to a school dance.

When he stumbled into the locker room, the rest of his teammates were already undressing, pulling out toiletries from their lockers and a fresh change of clothes. Soonyoung was still shell shocked when he sat down next to Wonwoo, body moving on autopilot as he dodged gangly elbows and stray towels being tossed around.

“What’d Coach Cho say to you?” Wonwoo asked in a hushed voice.

“He asked me if I could take Jiae to a dance. I-if I could be her date.”

Wonwoo’s jaw had dropped comically, not having expected that.

“Well?” He had urged.

Soonyoung’s eyebrows furrow, “What do you mean well?”

“Well what did you say, dumbass?” He asked with a flick to Soonyoung’s to ear.

“I–” Soonyoung had trouble voicing it out, because now that he was repeating it, it sounded even more stupid than when he had blurted it out to Coach Cho, “I said I couldn’t.”

“What?!” Wonwoo had yelled, pulling the attention of some of the players sitting by them.

“I can’t go that day,” Soonyoung had tried to reason out, but the more he thought about it, the more he regretted saying no so quickly.

“What could you possibly be doing that is somehow more important than taking Coach Cho’s daughter to a dance?”

Soonyoung drops his head into his hands, groaning out an answer.

“What was that?” Wonwoo taunted.

“I said, I’m getting my braces out.”

Word of Coach Cho’s request had spread amongst the Under-18 and Under-15 team like wildfire and Soonyoung had never felt so embarrassed in his life. Not because it was embarrassing to have been asked, but because he had said no.

But for many of those he had called teammates, it had become a running joke that maybe they too would be tapped to take you to this school dance, and it made Soonyoung’s blood boil at how crass the thoughts of some of his teammates were.

“I still can’t believe you said no,” Youngho had said to Soonyoung when he had dropped his backpack onto the bench in front of his locker.

Soonyoung’s shoulders were heavy with the fatigue from his commute from school and this was the last thing he wanted to deal with. He wanted to run a few laps, do a few drills, then pummel whoever his team was playing against during the scrimmage to the ground.

His teammate’s thoughts and comments were far from what he wanted to deal with that day.

Wonwoo had given him a warning look, to just ignore it and move on, and against his usual instinct, Soonyoung followed his best friend’s advice.

“Dude, imagine if you had said yes and like, impressed her or whatever.” Youngho had started up again, “You’d probably make it all the way to the first team on Cho’s good graces alone.”

But there was only so much that Soonyoung could stomach.

“Anyway, I’m sure Cho’ll ask someone else after practice tonight,” Youngho continued, “She must really want to fuck a footballer or something.”

He doesn’t think he’d ever moved so fast in his life, but within seconds Soonyoung had Youngho up against a locker, his body hit the metal and alerted everyone in the room that a fight was about to break out.

Soonyoung had no intention of actually hurting anyone, it wasn’t in his nature, but his blood had boiled at how something so innocent as an invite to a dance was suddenly being used to dirty your name without you even knowing.

“You’re disgusting,” Soonyoung had said through gritted teeth, “Even if that was the case, I’m sure she wouldn’t stoop as low as you.”

Even as one of the tallest players on the team, that day Youngho looked small under the fire of Soonyoung’s rage.

Shortly after the confrontation in the lockers and both Soonyoung and Youngho’s one week suspension from training, any talk of dances and daughters had died down just as all topics of locker room discussion did.

But it lived in Soonyoung’s brain incessantly.

From the moment Coach Cho had asked him, he had rewinded back to every single memory of you he could recall. Soonyoung had considered you a permanent fixture at the HYBE training center. He could recall that very first time he came into Coach Cho’s office after training, and you were seated by the coffee table with your nose in something or another.

Back then you had been so intimidating and snooty that he never dared to talk to you even as he waited for his turn to talk to your dad.

As he grew more comfortable in his place at the training center, no longer gobsmacked at every shiny trophy or starstruck at every first team player that passed him in the hallways, you had started to look more warm towards him too. He was proud to have gotten a smile at the very least, when he would wave to you goodbye.

The years that followed were spent relentlessly chasing his dream, spending every minute that he could to prove his mettle at his sport, and that left him with very little time for anything else.

It wasn’t that Soonyoung never had anyone catch his eye, he just never really did anything about it. Well, that and no one had ever expressed any interest in him. He tries not to focus on that, despite how he enjoys the spoils of the wars waged between the girls vying for Wonwoo’s affections. He never longed for that kind of attention.

But when he received it from you, despite how it was through that awkward conversation of an invite from your father, he considered it, even if it was just for a smidge of a second.

The smidge of a second grew into minutes, then hours, then days. When Soonyoung found himself wondering why you hadn’t visited the training center in weeks, he started to worry.

“What if she thinks I don’t like her?” Soonyoung said to Wonwoo.

“What are you talking about?” Wonwoo asked as he strapped his shin guards on.

“Jiae,” Soonyoung whispered, “What if she thinks I don’t like her.”

Wonwoo could only snort, “You bet she thinks you don’t like her, you said no to her dad.”

Soonyoung groaned as he hit himself in the face with his gloves.

“Why does it matter,” Wonwoo pushed, “You like her?”

Soonyoung could only blush.

“Soonyoung, please don’t tell me you have a crush on your idol’s daughter?”

The silence was deafening.

Soonyoung keeps his crush on you like a dirty secret.

It was probably the world’s worst kept dirty secret, but nevertheless, Soonyoung persisted.

After having blown the chance to take you to a school dance with the blessing of your father, he had been hoping to get the chance to make it up to you. He just wanted to know, did you like him like that? Why hadn’t anyone else on the squad gotten asked to take you to the dance but him? Why him?

Your presence at the training center had gone from few and far in between to once in a blue moon. And as much as Soonyoung hated to say it, it made him sad. He doesn’t want to assume that it was because of him, but just not being able to see you at all for weeks and eventually months at a time was a departure from what he was so used to.

Sometimes he went into Coach Cho’s office just in the hopes that he'd see you seated by the coffee table, reading a book, and he could just wave hi.

After about a year of your scarce training visits, Soonyoung realizes he may have underestimated his crush on you. While there was little he could actually do in between school, training, and hagwon, that didn’t stop him from silly little daydreams and fantasies of seeing you in the stands at one of their official league matches.

That year Soonyoung and Wonwoo had officially joined the U-18 team that Coach Cho personally handled and it was the start of the most grueling period of football growth of Soonyoung’s life. With a defensive expert leading the team, there were suddenly more eyes on him, greater expectations, and the added pressure of playing in front of his hero almost every single day.

There were many nights that Soonyoung thought training would end on a much lighter note if you were watching.

The first time Soonyoung saw you in months was on a random Wednesday evening when he was on clean up duty. He was trailing behind the rest of the guys, wheeling the cart of training balls to the correct storage rooms when he saw you leaning against the wall by your father’s office.

He doesn’t know if you had seen him, but he ducked into the storage room regardless, self conscious of how he looked post-training with grass stains on his white kit and his hair stuck haphazardly to his face.

From where he was hiding he simply appreciated seeing you in the flesh again after so long. He tried to make a mental tally of things that may have changed since he last saw you, maybe your hair was a little longer, or your lips were colored a different shade by a new lip gloss. Soonyong didn’t know, he was always bad at those things, all he knew at that time was that you were the prettiest girl he’d ever seen and that he had missed you.

Wonwoo thought it was a horrible idea. And in hindsight, he was right—but hindsight was always 20/20 and Soonyoung believed back then that Wonwoo was almost laughably blind. So, being Soonyoung, he had ignored his best friend’s wise words and jumped head straight into his plan.

The plan being to surprise you and woo you at your school dance. Soonyoung had thanked his lucky stars when his cousin had mentioned it off hand that she was going to dress shopping for a school event that was coming up. Soonyoung usually tuned this kind of talk out when he spent weekends with his extended family, but the mention of a school dance had perked up his ears and suddenly he was begging on his hands and knees for his cousin to take him as her designated plus one.

Very rarely did Soonyoung use his placement in the Cheongdam Diamonds’ U-18 team as leverage, but even his cousin couldn’t deny how impressive it would look to take him to the dance.

What he didn’t expect was having to fend off everyone that assumed he was dating his snooty older cousin.

He didn’t expect coming face to face with you before he was ready to sweep you off of your feet.

He didn’t expect that you’d turn your back at him instantly, and take another boy’s hand in your own.

He didn’t expect how badly it would hurt to have been rejected without even getting to say a word.

He tried. He tried to keep away, to be satisfied having that brief teenage crush on you. He had fallen into bed with the most beautiful models and some of the most promising rising actresses, but found himself going home thinking about that seventeen year old girl who had turned away from him and danced with another boy.

Soonyoung supposes, after a while, that maybe he doesn’t deserve you. He was a far cry from what your father was at his age and having been raised in the game, the lifestyle that he now had, it was possible that you would be far from impressed.

On particularly bad nights, Soonyoung thinks of the worst: that maybe you despised him and what he stood for as a professional athlete. Maybe you had sworn to absolutely never be with an athlete, that they were all good for nothing playboys and tricksters. On those nights Soonyoung tried to think of the positive: You’d probably never date any of his teammates.

The spark that set off a wildfire in his heart that night he came across you and Ddalgi had been warming his body for weeks. He’s never felt as weightless in his life as when he had managed to place himself in your life after so many years. He tried to stay satisfied, happy to be your friend and to stay by your side in any way, shape, or form you preferred.

But it was so difficult.

Every time he got close to you, he could feel the way his heart thumped louder, faster, telling him that you were here, just out of reach, but if he just put out his hand and took your own, then maybe you could calm it, satisfy it.

But Soonyoung’s made nearly a million and one mistakes when it came to you. And this evening was the worst. Despite his best efforts, he almost always seemed to fuck it up with you, and he couldn’t believe he had managed to hurt you to the point of tears.

He’d spend every second, minute, hour of every day making it up to you if he could, to lavish you in words that would put your mind at ease, make your heart race, and set your skin aflame.

Soonyoung’s made nearly a million and one mistakes when it came to you, but pressing his lips to your throat, and holding you down onto his bed to hear you sigh out his name, would not be one of them.

This evening felt like a dream, Soonyoung thought. In his rational mind there was no way any of it could have happened outside of his imagination. From the second he had pressed his lips to yours, he thought that he was on borrowed time, that just as easily as he had gotten you, you could slip away, change your mind, turn him away.

But when you had pulled away from him and your eyes had met for the first time since the revelation that there were so many years of yearning between you both, your gaze had set his blood aflame.

There was no other way about it. He had to have you.

It was a bold move to take your hand, something he had been longing to do for ages, and tug you towards the direction of his own house. It seemed awfully presumptuous but the way you gripped onto his arm, wrapping your fingers around his bicep and nodded in agreement was all the confirmation he needed.

While your first kiss was wistful, misty, and so long delayed, Soonyoung had made sure that the following kiss was the exact opposite. The second he had closed the door behind the two of you, he had pressed you against it, held the back of your head, tilted it backward just slightly and kissed you breathless. When you had groaned into the kiss, Soonyoung had taken the opportunity to lick into your mouth, his tongue a welcome intrusion in your own. Soonyoung’s head was spinning as he let out a breathy moan of his own.

You tasted of toothpaste and smelled of coconut conditioner, your hair still slightly damp and cold from your recent shower and Soonyoung wanted to be wrapped in it, in all of you.

At the very back of Soonyoung’s brain he wondered if he was being too eager, if it was so fucking uncool for him to want you so badly. But this evening was no longer about rationality. It was about finally giving in, it was finally time for you to both let out the breaths you’d been holding in for far too long.

Soonyoung wanted you to know that he was here and he would be here for as long as you wanted him. If that meant until next week, two years from now, forever, or even if just for tonight, he would gladly accept it.

“More, Soonyoung,” You had whispered in between small, softer kisses, and stuck out your lower lip in a pout. He couldn’t resist you.

He had playfully bit on the fullness of your lip, licked at it with his tongue, then brought it into his mouth to suck. He watched as your eyelids fluttered shut and you wrapped your arms around his head, elbows hooked over his shoulders. It was easy work for him to lift you up by your thighs and carry you up the stairs.

You asked for more so more you would get. Every kiss that followed felt bruising, when Soonyoung felt that you were short of breath, he’d pull away just to press his lips to your pulse instead, and when that wasn’t enough, he licked a hot strip onto your pulse and pressed the softest of bites, eliciting a broken moan from your lips.

He wanted to be everywhere, touch everything, hear every desperate gasp, swallow every hungry groan.

Hungry. That’s what you were.

And that’s what he’s always been.

The heat coursing through his body is almost too much for him to take, so Soonyoung quickly pulls away from you with a displeased sigh. He grabs at the bottom of his hoodie to pull it up and over his head before diving back in to press his lips to yours. He refuses to have his mouth parted from yours for too long now that he finally knows what you taste like.

His fingers itch to feel your skin and while your thighs had been soft, smooth, and pliant in his hands when he carried you up to his room, he needed more. He needed to know how your skin would feel pressed against his own, how your thighs would feel wrapped around his waist.

You must want the same thing because you follow his lead and pull your own hoodie up and off.

In the locker rooms, there are plenty of mindless and stupid questions thrown about. It wasn’t too long ago that the conversation of “ass or tits” was brought up. It was met with loud jeering and playfully scandalized hooting.

Soonyoung had very cheekily said, “Her heart” and was met with boos and fuck yous from his teammates. If you asked him again today, he’d finally have a proper answer.

“You’re not in a bra,” Soonyoung says in a whisper, eyes zoning onto your chest.

“I’m undressing for you, Soonyoung. That’s kind of the point.”

“I-i-yeah, I get that but. That whole time? You weren’t in a bra?”

“Well, yeah,” you start leaning back on your elbows, “I was planning on going to bed straight after yelling at you, but… well, here we are.”

His mind goes back to all those weeks prior to tonight when he had greeted you at your front gate and you were wearing this exact same outfit.

When his eyes meet yours it seems you’ve come to the same realization as him.

“Do you like them, Soonyoung?” You ask, one hand coming to grasp at the fullness of your left breast and barely fitting in your palm, and the other hand traces your right nipple with a finger slowly; teasing.

“Fuck yes,” He says, unable to hold it in, “Were you walking around me these last few weeks without a bra on? Tits just out of my reach?”

The fake coy look on your face makes him so painfully hard but he tries to play it cool, “Yes, captain. Won’t you like to give them a touch?”

He shakes his head no, and you’re almost confused until he says, “Let me have a taste of you, baby.”

Baby.

Soonyoung’s pulling all these moves he’s been too terrified to try, despite all the times he’s been openly flirtatious and he’s tried to push the boundaries between friendship and that something more.

But he’s always wanted to try and call you baby.

He doesn’t see what your reaction is like because just as he says it, he leans down to lick a broad stripe onto your breast and captures your right nipple between his teeth, the tip of his tongue playing with the stiffening bud.

The sigh you let out fills his head and it’s then that Soonyoung decides that he wants to draw every possible sound of pleasure he can from your mouth. Soonyoung knows he’s loud, mouthy, and just short of talkative in bed, but he wants to know how loud you can get, if he can have you screaming his name too.

He’s determined to make every second from here on out as pleasurable as he can but he’s been painfully hard since he had you pressed up against his front door. In an attempt to get you as riled up as he can, he switches his hand and mouth, making sure to lavish both of your breasts in licks and kisses, litter them with small nips and love bites, fit them in his hands almost painfully, so the memory of his hands on you sticks.

Soonyoung could spend hours praising your chest, but your litany of his name, growing breathless by the second, and the way you’re undulating your hips, trying your best to get some kind of relief finally pulls him away from where he’s be stuck in his own heady cloud of lust.

“Soonyoung, I want to make you feel good,” is what you say when he pulls away from your chest with an obscene pop, moving to press kisses on the valley between your breasts.

You almost make his brain go offline when you grab him by the long, scruffy locks of hair by his nape to lock eyes with him.

You are a vision.

The heady look in your eyes and the way you bite on your plush lower lip is just so much to Soonyoung. Its enough of a distraction that he lets you maneuver him any which way you want and he settles comfortably on his back and against the plush pillows at the head of his bed.

You stand on your knees between his legs and make quick work of untying the drawstrings of his sweats and his hands instantly fly down to yours to help you pull them off along with his underwear. He kicks them to the floor unceremoniously and you push his shoulder back lightly to have him fall back to his pillows.

“Oh fuck!” is all he can comprehend to say when you drag your tongue from his balls to the tip of his cock, swiping at the precum that’s started to leak from his slit. Without giving him a second to recover from your initial onslaught, you sink your mouth onto his cock, holding his hip down with a firm hand to support yourself as you give way in your throat for him to slip all the way in.

Soonyoung tries to keep himself from slipping into his baser instincts, to cant his hips upward and have your nose press against his abdomen, fucking himself into your mouth. He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding through his nose just as you groan around him, eyes slipping shut, and your throat clenching around the head of his cock.

Your mouth was so fucking warm and wet and your throat so tight he wonders if he’ll make it out alive from this blowjob to fuck your pussy.

You pull off him with a slight gag and a cough, but you deal with it like champ and slip your mouth over him again, this time your mouth in a perfect ‘O’ to suck on him quickly, your head bobbing and your spit spilling onto the sides of your lips and down the length of him.

The sounds are filthy and the gasp that you let out when you pull off of him to sit up slightly straighter could make a lesser man cum untouched.

Your fingers are wrapped around him by his base, staving off his impending orgasm, when you decide to blow Soonyoung’s mind again. You press your puckered lips against the side of his cock, dragging them from top to bottom repeatedly.

When you’ve gotten him sufficiently wet with your spit, you suck on the tip of him again, collecting his precum only to pull off slightly. You lock eyes with him, part your lips, and let your tongue loll out to let a filthy mix of his precum and your spit dribble out of your mouth and onto his cock.

“You’re fucking insane,” Soonyoung breathes out with an upturned mouth.

You pump his cock once, twice, before saying, “We’re just getting started, Captain.”

He can only groan happily and let his head fall to his pillows. He’s going to have to unpack how that title coming from your mouth has him close to orgasming.

Soonyoung keeps getting surprised by the little tricks you’re pulling from thin air, but this definitely takes the top spot.

Once you’ve deemed him sufficiently wet, lubricated by your spit and his precum, you start to crawl back up his body while pressing kisses onto the prominent veins on his lower stomach. In no time he can feel himself pressing against your chest, and it becomes clear what you’re about to do.

“You’re going to let me fuck your tits?”

The smirk that spreads across your lips has him shaking his head in amusement, “You seemed to be quite taken by them.”

You were a fucking dream come true.

If Soonyoung is only ever going to have you tonight, he needs to make the most out of it. He takes the reins and switches your positions smoothly so you’re on your back in the middle of his humongous bed. He cages your body between his legs and lets his cock settle between your breasts.

You move your hands down to grasp at the sides of each breast when Soonyoung swats one away and takes another into his, pressing your fingers to his lips for a quick kiss then says, “Hands off, baby.”

He grasps a breast in each hand and squeezes, plays with each nipple with his thumbs before pressing them together to create a tight, wet heat to fuck into. Your skin is so soft and pliant as he continues to push his cock between your tits that it's starting to mess with his head.

As much as people want to put him onto a pedestal for his footballing accolades and successes, at the end of the day he’s just a guy who’s finally in bed with the girl he’s had a crush on for ages. The fucked out look on your face just from pleasuring him with your mouth and tits has him biting his tongue to keep from cumming.

Each thrust of his hips has Soonyoung closer and closer to the edge. He wants to make this last as long as he can but it never crossed his mind how you’d be able to play him like an instrument, know which strings to pluck, chords to play, to pull the most pleasure from him.

“Fuck, I want to cum on your tits,” He breathes out with a laugh. He’s done a lot of growing up, but Soonyoung feels like a teenager as he confesses this to you, “You’ll let me cum on your tits right, baby?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out with a dumb nod of your head, “Cum on my tits, Soonyoung. Make them yours, yeah?”

Soonyoung’s always liked to fuck messy. Plenty sweat, spit, squirt, and cum is par the course when he fucked, but that was mostly for his enjoyment. When you agree to let him spill over you, to cast the assumption of ownership of your body, Soonyoung thinks you’re made for him.

After one, two, three thrusts between your breasts, Soonyoung pulls back, and grasps his cock to jerk himself off to completion, hot spurts of his sticky white cum falling onto your breasts.

You must truly be made for him because as he tries to catch his breath, kneeling over you still and pumping his cock to get hard again, you trace your fingers over your chest to collect his cum. You catch his eye as you bring your sticky fingers to your mouth and suck them clean.

You groan around two fingers and Soonyoung lets out a dark chuckle as you stick out your tongue to show him how you’ve swallowed his spend. He does the same, swiping his fingers through the mess on your tits and shoving three fingers into your awaiting mouth. Your tongue presses against them and you go to suck each one, your tongue dancing between them, not letting a single drop of him go to waste.

He can’t help it, he has to kiss you.

And Soonyoung is a master kisser.

Each time he pressed his mouth to yours, you felt your head go blurry around the edges and every thought that isn’t him simply fades away. The taste of him was addicting and the slip of his tongue against yours had you gushing despite his hands holding you by the back of the head innocently. But you didn’t want innocent, you wanted desperate, you wanted depraved, you wanted disgusting, if he would give it to you.

It doesn’t take long for him to move down your body, paying copious amounts of attention to your sensitive nipples and marked up tits, and eventually pulling down your sleep shorts.

If it was anyone else, it would be embarrassing how wet you’d gotten, but this is Soonyoung. This is Soonyoung who you’d wanted for so long, Soonyoung who had felt the same and just as strongly, Soonyoung whose touch could set you ablaze and whose one word could give you release.

You want him to know. You want him to see and taste just how riled up he’s gotten you, that maybe from this day forward, only he could press his mouth between your thighs, only his tongue could press into your hole, only his lips could wrap around your clit to make you cry out for God.

“Fuck, you taste so good,” He breathed, pressing kisses to the mound of your pubic bone, “I knew you’d taste so good.”

Just his praise has you keening, eyes slipping shut as you feel him spread your legs. He uses his fingers to part your folds and that action is enough to have you clenching around nothing, wanting so badly to be filled, with his tongue, fingers, cock, anything just as long as he could grant you some relief.

“Soonyoung, please,” You manage to whisper.

“Please what?” comes his voice, it’s almost playful, and maybe you want to kick him, but it’s so fucking hot you can feel how badly it gets to you, a sudden wave of arousal making itself known as it starts to trickle out of you.

You let out a frustrated groan, canting your hips upward uselessly as Soonyoung uses his strength to keep you in position. He moves to spread you even further with one leg hoisted over his shoulder and the other pressed flat against the bed. There was no hiding in this position, you were displayed for him, ready and open for whatever it was he wanted to do to you.

“Here’s what I’ll do,” He says, placing kisses onto your knee, moving down to your thigh slowly, “I want to taste this delicious pussy some more, get you all nice and wet, hmm? Then I want to fuck you open with my fingers.”

You nod stupidly as he speaks and you think that you may just agree to anything he says, happy to take anything he wants to give you.

“Will one be enough?” He teases, running one finger along one of your lower lips.

You open your eyes to communicate what your mouth can’t, rendered speechless by his tone of voice alone.

“No? How about two then?” Another finger joins the onslaught in framing your hole but his touch is feather-light and offers no relief whatsoever.

“Soonyoung,” is the only thing you can get out and it comes out as more of a whine.

“Fine, seems like my girl can take three then? How greedy.”

You bite your lip and nod before saying, “I can take four, Soonyoung. You’ll give me four, right?”

There’s a mean glint in his eye as he says, “You’re perfect.”

Soonyoung eats pussy like he kisses. It’s messy and it’s deep and you’ve never had it this good. He fucks his tongue into your hole with no hesitation, licking deep and lapping at your folds like you’re the best damn thing he’s ever tasted. When he pulls away it’s only so he can move to sucking on your clit. After having teased you with his fingers earlier, it’s like he’s decided fuck that and just thought to ruin you with as much pleasure as he could pull from your body.

Moans and whimpers pour out of your mouth freely. The knowledge that there are no nosey neighbors to disturb means you can be as loud as you want. You want Soonyoung to know how well he’s pleasuring you, that he can pull these ragged breaths and pleasured sighs from you so easily just because it’s him.

When you feel the prod of two fingers at your entrance you bite your lip but a scream breaks through when you feel a third finger push into you as well. Soonyoung had gotten you so wet and prepared for him with his mouth and his tongue that you welcomed the stretch. It was incredible how each of his touches could make you feel this good.

With his fingers inside of you pumping steadily, he peppered your thighs with kisses, moving upwards towards your clit. He flattens his tongue against it and shakes his head to heighten the sensation. On instinct you want to shut your legs closed but he still has you spread open for him and the position has you twitching as you feel yourself about to cum.

“You’ll give me everything, won’t you?” He says, finally pulling away from your clit, “I want to see how hard you can cum.”

Soonyoung sits back onto his knees so he can watch when he pushes four of his fingers into you. Four fingers is a tight fit but you take it like a champ, enjoying how he stretches you open. You watch him watching you and the look of determination and the way his chest heaves has you impossibly turned on. You never thought you’d be in this position, but he is every lonely night fantasy come to life and more.

He is everything.

You enjoy how his arms look, one wrapped around your thigh to hold you open and the other flexing as he pushes his fingers into you repeatedly, gaining speed as the seconds pass. You clench around his fingers as the heat envelopes you and you feel the pressure slowly take over.

“Soonyoung,” You start as a warning, “Soonyoung, I’m gonna–I’m gonna cum!”

He says nothing but instead hastens his actions, plunging his fingers even deeper, hooking his fingers just right to press into that spot inside you that’ll have you exploding in no time.

Your own fingers scramble on his bedsheets, looking for something to keep you anchored as your hips start to buck and you can feel yourself dripping around his fingers inside you.

“Soonyoung, please please, I’m serious. I can’t hold it in,” You cry out.

“I know baby,” He says with a smirk, “Give it to me. I want it.”

It’s like he flipped a switch inside of you and in the same moment he demands you to come, that thread in your stomach snaps and you gush all over his hand and forearm. Tears slip from your eyes in relief but also shame at the mess you made of yourself, his arm, and the bed.

He pulls his fingers out of you gently and you jerk in his hold, the sensitivity starting from your cunt and spreading to your arms and legs. You let Soonyoung rearrange you on his bed but the heat simmering beneath your skin continues to fuel your lust-addled brain.

“God, you’re fucking perfect,” Soonyoung says, pressing kisses onto your stomach, onto your left breast, then the right, and taking your nipple between his teeth with a gentle tug, “I’ve never had anyone cum as beautiful as you.”

You hate the idea of Soonyoung being with someone that isn’t you. It’s stupid and immature but his confession earlier sets you at ease. Just as you had been with others with the assumption that being with Soonyoung was a far and unreachable dream, he too might feel the same pang of jealousy.

That jealousy rears its ugly head even now. But this time you can do something about it.

You confirm your suspicions about how much he enjoys when you thread your fingers into his hair, so you tug at his locks to bring his mouth to yours. When he licks into your mouth you think that you can taste yourself on his lips and you can’t help but press your lips to his even more.

“That was so fucking embarrassing, Soonyoung,” You sigh out when you manage to get your breathing somewhat back to normal.

Soonyoung refuses to part from you, lips sucking a bruise high on your neck, a love bite that you know will be hard to hide.

“Don’t fucking say that again,” He says between licks, sucks, and kisses, “I want to make all your orgasms that insane. Hottest woman I’ve ever been with, I’ll ever be with.”

You want to roll your eyes at him. It’s an exaggeration if not an outright bold faced lie. But you can’t help but think about it as well. You doubt anyone will ever come close to how Soonyoung has made you feel in the last few hours. The rage, the sadness, the confusion, the joy, the elation, and the euphoria–all of that had stemmed from how much you’ve longed and loved him. You fear you will never feel as strongly for anyone ever again.

You want him so much.

You want him so much that despite how sensitive you still feel, you had to have more of him.

So you push him onto his back and straddle his hips. Your center is still wet, stretched out so nicely by his fingers, and when you lower yourself to glide over his cock, you can feel how he’s recovered, already hard.

He sits up to catch your lips in a heated kiss, riling you both up as you cover him with your wetness, “I have condoms in the drawer,” He whispers when he pulls away from you by just a fraction.

“Don’t be stupid,” You say as you grind down on him, “I wouldn’t fuck you if I wasn’t clean.”

“And I know you’d be off the squad if you didn’t pass your monthlies,” You continue, now gripping him by the base of his cock.

“And I’m on the pill,” You say with a slight falter in your bravado as the head of his cock catches at your entrance, “So don’t you want to fuck me raw?”

You should have known not to challenge Soonyoung because there was never a challenge he stood down from. He pushes into you at the same time you begin to sink down on him and it causes him to slip all the way in, his cock filling you completely and the stretch leaving you speechless.

The feeling of his cock driving into you at once has the hair all over your body standing and you feel the electric shock of pleasure racing up your spine to the very top of your head.

The noise you let out is nearly demonic.

Despite the position, there’s no mistaking who is calling the shots. Just his first thrust into you had your brain turning into mush, so when Soonyoung continued to fuck up into the heat of your cunt, you had grown useless on top of him. There was no way to decipher the nonsense you were spewing, just that they were surely words of praise for how thoroughly Soonyoung was fucking you.

It should have come as no surprise that fucking a footballer meant that your stamina would be put to the test. But still, you’re wholly unprepared for how long and how hard Soonyoung could go when it came to fucking. When you had fallen into his arms, unable to hold yourself up as he fucked into you from below, he had pushed you onto your back to fuck you while he had both of your legs over one shoulder.

By then he could match you with how he could hardly keep himself shut, groaning out praises about how tight you were around him with your legs pressed together.

“On your hands and knees, baby,” He instructs as he pulls out and lets your legs fall to the bed, you don’t miss how breathless he’s beginning to sound and you revel in how wreaked you’ve gotten him as well.

You quickly position yourself as he has requested but take it further by pressing your chest onto the bed, arching your back and folding your arms behind you. In a brief moment of tenderness, Soonyoung takes one of your hands in his and intertwines your fingers.

Of course he matches it with filth when he spanks your backside then grabs the meat of your buttcheek to spread you open for him, “Look at this wrecked pussy.”

You preen under his attention and smile even if he can’t see your face in this position.

He collects the wetness of your pussy to lubricate himself before pushing into you and you swear the world stops spinning for a minute. Soonyoung was big, long enough to curve into you nicely, and his girth enough to have you gritting your teeth at the initial thrust into you.

But the position he had you in let him into you so much deeper, you swear you can feel him up to your throat, and you know you’re clenching around him with a vice grip. He felt so perfect inside of you that you could only wish he felt as good.

“You’re so deep, Soonyoung,” You say shakily, as he stills you with a hand on your hip.

“Fuck your pussy’s perfect,” He says as he presses even deeper, “Look at you stretched out for me. Making space for me inside of you. No one else can fuck you like this.”

No one can. No one will.

He slips out of you slightly just to press back in harshly with a jolt of his hips and soon he begins an almost punishing pace. He cock presses into the spot inside you incessantly and the feeling of his hands gripping tightly onto the meat of ass is the perfect mix of pain and pleasure that has you gasping out his name in a sinful litany as you cum, unintentionally tightening around him.

The groan he lets out tells you he’s close to coming and when his thrusts start to grow sloppy he pulls out of you suddenly, to wrap a fist around his cock, pulling at himself to cum onto your backside. You know from his first orgasm that Soonyoung can cum a lot and when he spills all over you again now, it lands everywhere, some of it dripping into your hole, still gaping and clenching around nothing when he had pulled out of you.

You whine, a frown making itself present on your face as you turn to face him.

“I thought you were going to cum inside me,” You say, squirming at the cum quickly cooling on your ass and the few drops that had made it inside you keeping you sticky between your thighs.

“Fuck, you’re going to kill me,” is all Soonyoung can say as he moves to sit up against the headboard and his pillows.

Your eyes follow his hand that’s wrapped around his still hard cock and you push it aside to take over, wanting him back in your mouth. You lay in front of him for a while, letting your tongue lap at him, and leisurely bobbing your head to get him fully hard and wet again.

In no time Soonyoung pulls you up to lay on his chest and slips back inside of you.

You sigh as your body grows boneless against him and he does all the work, hips undulating and pushing his cock into you just right so that you see stars and you gasp into each sloppy kiss. There is not even a millimeter between you two and if someone asked, you’d want to stay this way forever.

Even without the pleasure of fucking, you wished to never part from Soonyoung again.

The realization is jarring at this very moment but you let yourself ride the wave as it makes your orgasm so overwhelming tears fall from your eyes.

When Soonyoung sees the tear stains he moves his lips to kiss them away and whispers words of reassurance before he himself groans, spilling into you and finally filling you with his cum.

You can’t contain the fullness in your heart as Soonyoung lays you on your back, and drapes himself over you. You wrap a leg around his waist, not wanting him to pull away just yet.

Then he smiles.

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” You whisper, afraid that saying this now would shatter the moment. But you have to tell him again. Remind him that this cannot just be for one night.

“You have me, you have me, you have me,” He says.

-`✮´- if you've come this far, thank you and it'd mean the world to get a reblog or to hear your thoughts on my first fic long fic on here!

#frizzy fiction #hoshi x reader #hoshi smut #hoshi smau #hoshi imagines #soonyoung x reader #soonyoung scenarios #soonyoung smut #soonyoung imagines #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #seventeen smut #seventeen scenarios #au: man of the match

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kryscent · 4 months ago

Text

tsuki no hikari ☆ 1

pairings: opla!zoro x gn!reader

wc: 5.3k

content briefing: slow slowburn. canon typical violence (description and dialogue). the east blue saga. lore heavy!reader. multi-chaptered work so expect fluff, angst and suggestive content ahead. alternating povs. the reader used to go by the name hikari but is not an oc (i promise its for the plot)

synopsis: a vigilante of sorts, you roamed the east blue without any particular aim, until one odd mission pulls you back into a part of your life you'd almost left behind, meeting someone you'd almost forgotten.

teaser | next

Your hand clenches around the hilt of your sword, the scabbards of the two blades at your hip clacking together as you disembark the weak sloop, boots splashing onto the shoals.

Lifting the duffle carrying your bow and quiver onto your shoulder and tightening your dagger around your opposite arm, your eyes take in the havoc wreaked upon the town in front of you.

Late, your conscience gripes, you’re late.

You’d gotten word on your den den mushi ear-piece from your informant, while resting in an inn on the suburbs of Shells Town - news on the streets said the Buggy Pirates were besieging raids across the Organ Islands, shortly after the embarrassing defeat of Axe-Hand Morgan. (Admittedly letting out a chuckle, seeing as to how you’d arrived to uncover the inconsistencies of pirate capture-defeat reports from the 153rd branch. The work was cut out easier for you with him out of commission for a day or so, though unfortunately, the safe you’d been looking for was missing.)

You didn’t, however, expect to come upon Orange Town in ruins, seeming devastatingly uninhabited. Wind blows through the wreckage, howling eerily through the empty walls, caved-in roofs billowing dust as they collapse further at the prodding of the gust.

Raids would infer looting - stealing of goods, valuables and treasures by corrupt pirates from nondescript towns and villages; or on the latter side, the kidnapping of “useful” village folk, holding hostages. But this is Captain Buggy you’re talking about - any inference may as well be considered useless, scattered to the four seas, when it comes to his maniacal tendencies. You'd heard enough about the famed clown pirate, mostly from Shanks, and you’d felt bad for the man he’d described, at your young age.

You trudge further into the town, lifting fallen slats to check for injured townspeople or wounded animals trapped under, head tilting curiously at the lack of any sign of life, aside from the telltale odour of rotting food.

You’re considered a vigilante of sorts by the people living in the villages you protect and liberate; the name ‘Hikari’, said with their heartfelt gratitude and respect, was your only identifiable – memorable – feature, aside from the painted kitsune mask covering your face. Utmost importance was given to the safety and wellbeing of the people you fight for – which meant fighting against bad pirates and bad Marines alike.

It was a given you left Shells Town immediately on hearing of the altercation, and your mind swims with possible reasons for the absence of life – perhaps they fled? Your questions are answered in part, your brows meeting as they furrow at the sight in front of you.

A red, white and blue striped circus tent, fitting to Buggy’s colour scheme, rose up in the centre of the debris, applause and hollering permeating the fabric to reach your ears. As you make your way to the tent, the air cracks to a dull thud, later followed by the sound of loud, running water (high pressure, through a pipe?), and you break into a sprint, skirting far around its circumference to enter without getting yourself killed by surely armed guards.

All sounds suddenly quiet, right as the wind flaps at the bottom of the tent. Lotto. You make your way to it, leaving your bag at the opening while muttering a prayer to the seas that no one will halt your entry. Crawling under, mask pushing to the side of your face in the midst of your efforts, you stop in your tracks as a man falls limply to the ground from an impressively built arm, strangulated. You quickly get to your feet as a pretty, orange-haired girl, who you assume was in the dangling cage that rocked back and forth behind her, cuts through the rope fastening his other arm with a kunai thrown by the serpent looking man at her feet. She pays you no mind, seeing as to how you haven’t said anything or attacked them yet; gathering her weapons from where they were stored away, you catch sight of striking blue eyes in the mirror.

Your eyes meet the gaze of the man on the murder-pseudo-wheel of fortune, as he steps off and shakes out his shoulders, levelling you with a scrutinising stare, cocking a straight green brow, matching the cropped hair on his head, a set of three earrings glinting on his left ear. Handsome, you think, eyes darting over his face appraisingly. Warm but hardened chestnut eyes, full lips, broad shoulders and a honed figure. Blinking away the thought, you dart out to the arena stage, leaving the bemused pair behind.

The lights are dim, with only a few azure spotlights on, making it hard to see very far. Coincidentally, you end up right at what looks like a throne. Buggy’s throne. Funny enough, no guard is stationed here – considering he probably didn’t want to share his spotlight.

Your gaze trains to your side, observing the desperate stares of the villagers, wide-eyed and cheeks stained with tear-tracks and soot. Your eyes flick to their feet; chains. Oppressed. You decide you despise him, with every fibre of your being, any remaining pity or sympathy rinsed clean with the tears of the villagers he’s shackled to the benches of his circus.

You’re right in his line of sight, from where he’s mocking a boy in a tank filled with what looks like seawater, cackling wildly in seeming joy, muttering about a “devil fruit”. You throw your dagger, landing right between his fingers on the glass, with deathly precision.

‘Hey Bungy, you get off on torturing kids?’ you say sharply, chin high and voice faux pitiful, creating enough of a diversion as the glass cracks from your throw, and the ginger girl from earlier unclasps her bo staff and pitches it right at the spot over your dagger. (Hm. Assistance wouldn't hurt, especially if they're on the good side) The clown’s head is turned to you, howling “It’s Buggy!” before he twists his neck in alarm at the dual damage to the material.

‘Where are my freaks?!’ he shrieks, looking around frantically, before his eyes latch onto the green-haired swordsman across. Three swords, you note, cocking your head curiously. His eyes are sharp, focused on the clown from under the bandanna covering his mossy hair, his reply clipped. ‘They’re not coming,’ his voice is gravelly, tone threatening danger.

The tank before you fractures before shattering completely, a small tidal wave flushing the imprisoned boy and the fool to the ends of the stage. You stand by, a single sword drawn, stony expression twitching slightly in disgust as the boy regurgitates what looks like an impossibly long cylinder, coughing out the water he’d swallowed. Your gaze travels to his head of wet curls, a familiar curved scar under his left eye… Your eyes widen slightly as he drags himself across the ground, reaching for a distinct straw hat.

‘Luffy?’ you whisper in shock, short breath leaving you in the form of a gasp. ‘You know him?’ comes a voice from your right – you turn to face her, the girl with the bo staff, swirling it in her palm before bringing it to rest at the small of her back. ‘Nami,’ she offers, by way of introducing herself, relaxing slightly at your recognition of the boy, and you return it with a nod, followed by your own name in exchange.

‘My map,’ Buggy musters, voice weak, though his eyes light up disturbingly, grin growing slowly, the same time as Luffy splays out his hand, groaning. ‘My hat.’

‘Yeah, I do. Who’s greenie?’ you answer, nodding your chin at the swordsman approaching the harlequin menacingly, before slashing at him in clean strikes with two swords drawn. It’s to no avail, as he uses his obvious devil fruit to divide himself into pieces, to predict and dodge every slash. ‘Zoro, he’s harmless,’ she murmurs, dripping sarcasm, lifting a hand to gesture for you to follow her as her eyes betray her remaining scepticism towards you, leading you slowly behind the swordsman. Ah, Zoro.

‘Surprise, shithead!’ the clown cackles psychotically when he starts detaching and propelling his appendages around till all that remains upright is his head, as the both of you flank either side of Zoro. Your brows furrow, nauseated at the display as your eyes follow his head, shifting to stand with your back to the both of your temporary allies, a rough triangular defence. You push your sword out to cut into fast-coming blows, redirecting them away from you.

‘How am I s’pposed to slice a guy who’s already in pieces?’ Zoro comments, you presume to Nami, as the three of you shuffle around in slow circles, trying to keep up with his spinning. ‘This was not part of the plan!’ she calls back, exasperated as the three of you branch out to attack a body part each.

‘You had a plan?’ you call back, slashing at what looks like a chunk of his torso, receiving a grunt in response from Zoro. Clearly, the two of you are not doing any damage, most done probably by Nami and her staff, striking each part flying around with blunt force. You switch your method to pummel his body with the hilts of your swords, knocking them away. Your stomach lurches when the fleshy (gross) missiles change their focus from being some kind of disturbing display of power, to targeting the three of you individually.

You draw your second blade, deflecting the foot that comes flying to kick at your chest with unexpected potency, caught off-guard at the impact. You let out a strangled heave when a hand swerves past your crossed swords, clasping tightly around your neck to choke you for a minute, your swords carefully slashing at his wrist as much as you could manage without hurting yourself. He uses the sudden upper-hand to push you back, feet dragging, to throw you harshly onto the ground at the feet of the manacled audience, who gasp loudly, whatever breath remained in your lungs knocked out of you at the impetus. Your mask shatters, cracked fragments lying beside your face, ribbon torn.

Zoro and Nami are no better – as he’s pushed, toppling over the tank that shatters with his fall, and she’s shoved tripping over a low stage stool, tumbling onto her back.

You watch in horror, a hand dropping your sword to grasp at your throat, inhaling copious amounts of air, as his body reattaches itself, hovering in front of Luffy, before touching down onto his feet.

‘Would you look at that?’ he asks, voice feigning playfulness, not bothering to disguise the scorn beneath. Luffy, holding his hat to his chest, getting up slowly with his back against the wooden pole at the edge of the stage, straightening himself.

‘Somebody escaped my Tank of Doom,’ he continues, a single finger raised drawing circles in the air, taunting. ‘Well I’ll be back to finish you off–,’ his voice quietens before raising to a gruff yell, ‘–right after I tear apart your sorry excuse of a crew!’ He breaks into another peal of guffaws, with a horror befitting for a clown of his stature.

You exhale sharply, grabbing your sword again and using it to stab into the sandy grounds, rising to your feet before placing your viridian hilted sword back in its sheath. You hold a hand out to Nami, sensing Zoro getting to his feet in your peripheral. She takes your hand, grasp warm, righting herself.

‘You can dump seawater on me–,’ your eyes shoot up as Luffy responds for the first time since this freakish battle had begun. ‘–and I’ll let it slide,’ he starts, pressing his hat back onto the crown of his head, before stepping forward, voice dipping into ire. ‘But don’t you ever threaten my friends.’ He rolls back his shoulder, palm pressed to it, preparing to punch as his arm stretches back for a few metres, before launching forward to slam into Buggy’s abdomen. A cylindrical, punch shaped piece flies out with the impact, and back into his stomach. You try not to gag at the absurd array.

He winks at Luffy, before producing a set of eight knives, four on each hand, his tone a low whisper. ‘So you wish to die first?’ he hums. ‘Be my guest.’

He detaches his body with sickening pops before spinning them again like earlier, the blades adding more possibility of harm this time, bellowing, ‘Chop Chop, Cannon.’

All the parts go flying at Luffy as he vaults and catapults himself over all of them, avoiding the knives. He manages to tackle the clown to the floor, grappling for a moment until a fist comes flying at Luffy’s side. When he gets to his feet, another fisted dagger slices the hat right off his head and pins it onto the wood. As it drops, he runs to it but is tripped and pushed by multiple limbs, until a hand comes to choke him as Buggy chortles, much like you earlier.

‘Nami,’ he croaks, stifled. ‘The crates!’

You run into the melee, ripping the fist off his neck and throwing it to her, as she bats it into a case, closing shut.

Luffy looks up at his saviour, to him an unfamiliar addition to the fight, before you turn to him to help him up. His gaze falls to the sword at your hip, eyes widening in recognition at the hilt, the guard. Specifically, an almost exact replica of Shanks’ hilt and crossguard. The one given to…

‘Hikari?’ he asks loudly, surprise and disbelief a beaming mixture in his voice, knocking a stray limb in Nami’s direction so she can throw it into a chest. A smile stretches across his lips contagiously, and you can't help but smile gently with him, your heart warm with nostalgia at the familiar grin that was so very Luffy, before kicking a stray leg to Zoro, who stabs his swords through it to pin it to the ground as Buggy howls in pain. ‘Its [name] actually,’ you hum, twisting to continue the fight. He whoops in reply, the thrill at your arrival evident in his invigorated attacks, joy radiating off him in waves. You chuckle to yourself, he hasn't changed one bit.

The four of you together knock as many parts of him that you can manage into crates, boxes and barrels, until all that’s left of him is a pair of hands and feet, and his head. Luffy gently picks his hat off the ground, holding it to his chest.

‘What’ve you done to me?’ Buggy screeches, voice broken and grating to your ears. The curly haired boy simply grins in response. ‘Cut you down to size.’

‘The One Piece will never be yours! You’re just a sad–,’ the pathetic clown curls his hands into fists, searching for words ‘–lonely little boy wearing another man’s hat!’

Luffy doesn’t look at him, staring down at his hat intently, a small smile on his lips. ‘I know exactly who I am.’ He places his hat back onto his head, before beaming, eyes crinkling at the edges. ‘I’m Monkey D. Luffy! And I’m gonna be the King of the Pirates.’ He settles into a crouched stance, throwing both arms behind him. ‘Gum Gum,’ he starts, as Buggy begins to frantically protest. ‘–Bazooka!’ His hands come stretched forward like a slingshot, wrists pressed together as they launch Buggy through the top of the tent, far into the stratosphere.

He walks to where the map lies, picking it up before approaching the three of you. He hands the map to Nami as you adjust your swords and sheath them, picking your dagger up off the ground and placing it in the guard on your forearm.

‘You’re giving this to me?’ her voice coloured in disbelief. Pulling the remaining ties of your mask from behind your ear, you raise a brow – her words presumably about something that happened before you arrived. You’re going to have to get a new one. ‘You’re the navigator,’ he smiles. ‘Guys, this is [name]! Previously Hikari and one of my best friends!’ he gestures at you, hand spread in a showy fashion. You lift your own in a still wave as a greeting.

Nami offers you a short smile, and your eyes shift to the man beside her, who nods at you. ‘’M Roronoa Zoro. You fight good,’ he acknowledges, prompting a small, amused uptick of your lips. So he does speak beyond primitive grunts and groans. ‘Thanks, you too.’

‘Let’s get out of this clown show,’ Zoro turns to leave, before Luffy stops him with a hand on his shoulder. ‘Not yet. Still one more thing we have to do.’ He lets go of his shoulder, smacking it in friendly camaraderie with a grin.

The spotlights come back on when Luffy pulls one of the pins holding the villagers’ manacles in place. The four of you make an effort to pull the chains as gently but quickly as possible, and you’re in front of Zoro when an old white-haired man questions Luffy. ‘Are you our new captors?’ the man asks, clearly expecting the worst. Luffy looks confused, stopping his movements as he leans back onto his haunches, ‘What?’

‘Well, you’re pirates aren’t you?’

‘I’m a different kind of pirate,’ he declares, rising to his feet with a grin. You smile to yourself at his reply, looking up at the man across from you. He shakes his head, hiding a smirk of his own as he looks away.

While you all make preparations to leave the island, you stop to speak to the villagers who come rushing to offer rations and supplies for your travels. The old man, who you learn is the mayor of Orange Town, Boodle, asks for a moment with you.

‘I’ve heard of you, and seen your bounty poster on the notice board. I thought you were a pirate,’ he says, voice marvelled. You chuckle, patting his hand. ‘Fighting corrupt Marines earns you a wanted poster with your name on it, of course. I’m not a pirate yet, but the bounty increases the more dishonourable officers I take down,’ your expression lights up in memory.

‘Right. Speaking of bounties,’ you reach into your duffel, a jute sack carrying one million berry from your last hunt. ‘Take this. For reparations and any other expenses to get your town back on its feet–,’ ‘–I cannot possibly accept this,’ he flounders, eyes wide at the bulging bag.

You press the bag into his grasp, nodding with conviction. ‘Please do. I understand it may be difficult to accept, but as mayor, consider this an investment to the priority and welfare of your townspeople.’

He takes the bag, hesitant, before gripping your hand gently in gratitude. ‘Your kindness, and your crew’s, will remain in the memory of our town timelessly.’ You laugh at his determined statement, and go to correct him but you’re interrupted by the yipping of a small dog, pawing at your legs.

‘Chou Chou, no!’ A small girl comes running, scooping the pup into her arms. ‘I’m so sorry, he’s excited around new people.’ You reach out to ruffle her hair, then the dog’s back. ‘It’s alright. Chou Chou, you said?’

A hand lands on your shoulder, and you turn to look at the holder. Luffy smiles at you warmly, before his grip drops to your hand, pulling you aside, before tugging you into his arms. ‘I missed you,’ he mutters into your shirt, before looking up at you. ‘Of course you’re as kind as I remember,’ he says, smile proud as he holds onto your arms. You mess up his curls, eyes pushing into crescents. ‘Missed you too, kid,’ you grin, before wrestling him into a headlock. ‘You forget who’s older?’

He barks out a laugh, tapping out on your forearm, before facing you again.

‘Join my crew,’ he says, voice shakily conveying calm, making a clear effort to not force you into something no matter how dearly he wants it.

‘When I finally become a pirate, I want you to be my quartermaster, so you’ll be by my side when I become King of the Pirates! That spot is for you, and mine as captain! And–,’ you interrupted the shorter boy with a giggle as he scowled at your teasing interruption. ‘That’s a funny word. Qua-ter-master. Who taught you that?’

‘Shanks did,’ he huffs indignantly. He shoves his hand at you, pinky outstretched. ‘So?’

‘Fine, I'll be your quartermaster, whatever that means. Promise,’ you concede, linking your finger with his.

‘I believe I do have a promise to fulfil–,’ you glance away, fighting back a smile, squinting in the sunlight before looking back at him,‘–Captain.’ He shakes you by the shoulders, beaming like the sun behind him as you let out the laughs you’d been holding in, Luffy babbling loudly in joy about how ‘’You remembered!” and how he could count on you before he pulls you in for another bone crushing hug.

He calms down, if only slightly, to stare right into your eyes. ‘What is your dream?’ You shrug noncommittally, ‘I kind of already am well on my way to accomplishing that goal, by taking down terrible pirates and deplorable Marines myself. The dream is a world where their wrongdoing is no longer rampant,’ you slow, feeling the words in your mouth, a smile tugging at your lips, ‘–and I think being on the crew of the future King of the Pirates will get me there, don’t you think?’

His eyes light up, glinting in pride. ‘I will never let anything get in the way of your dream, and I will help you achieve it,’ he promises, offering his pinky much like he had years ago. ‘–as long as you do the same for me.’

You grin a half-smile, linking your fingers and shaking them once firmly. ‘Promise.’

Nodding at your small sloop, Zoro comes to stand behind Luffy just as you ask the boy, ‘Help me get my stuff?’

The tall man, who seems to be all brawn and no brain, grunts in response before walking to your boat, and you follow after him, amused.

You lean forward to take some of the multiple bags of your supplies, food and water, but he doesn’t let you – he’s carried all of them over his shoulder and in both his hands before you can reach to hold them.

‘I can–,’ ‘–t’s fine,’ he leans away from the hand you’ve put out to share some of the weight of your belongings, his voice low with exertion. You raise a shoulder in a shrug, leaving him to it.

You push the boat far into the sandy shore, watching as the children and the puppy from earlier adorably run onto it immediately to play.

Boodle approaches the four of you this time, holding out a crate of as many scraps they managed to find after their plunder. ‘It’s not much, but take this…as a token of our gratitude,’ he holds it out to Luffy, who shakes his head gently, pushing it back to the old man. ‘You need it more than we do.’ With a firm nod, he bids them goodbye as the four of you walk out the small wooden dock to the boat.

You jump onto the deck of their ship, glancing at the book of maps lying near the helm, helping Nami untie the anchoring knots. She seems to be the evasive, cunning type, suspicious and wary of new people. You had a feeling Luffy only just got to know her, and earned most of her trust when he handed her that map.

Wondering where the two men were, you turn to twist the other rope when you catch sight of Luffy jogging back down to where the mayor still stands with the tray, reaching for a piece of bread. ‘Maybe just a snack,’ he takes a big bite, before holding the rest in his mouth, waving as he runs back to the craft, Zoro in tow. You let out a sharp exhale, somewhere between a sigh and a laugh. Same old.

The people wave, echoing ‘thank you’s and ‘goodbyes’ as you raise the sails, setting off.

No matter how long you’d spent on the sea, nothing satisfies you more than the resounding whip of the sails catching the winds, pulling you further into the arms of the deep oceans, the salty spray trickling onto your arms like dewdrops.

You lean against the wall beside Zoro, sat upright and getting some shut-eye, watching as Nami carefully stitches up Luffy’s precious hat and hands it back to him when he thanks her for fixing it.

‘You said it was your treasure, right?’ she smiles at him, before getting up and walking to you.

‘Pardon me if I’m wrong,’ you start, cocking a brow, ‘–but were you the ones who successfully pulled the rug from under Axe-Hand’s feet back in Shells Town?’

Nami pats the heavy safe beside her, smirking derisively before walking past you into the galley. ‘Stolen right from his office. It’s where we got the map.’ You look down to your side when the man you’d assumed to be asleep speaks.

‘Is every day gonna be this crazy with you?’ he mutters, gruff with drowsiness. Luffy places his hat on the crown of his head, turning to face his crew with a smile.

‘Shanks always said,’ he begins slowly, and you tilt your head, ‘–that if the path to what you want seems too easy…then you’re on the wrong path,’ he finishes, and you stare down at your feet, mind fond of the memory. Zoro squints, mulling over the words while looking out to the sea. ‘This Shanks guy seems alright,’ he says. You huff out a chuckle, and his head turns to look at you.

Warm eyes, you think again, when he’s not in battle. The setting sun casts a glow against the high of his cheekbones, dipping into shadows at the sharp curve of his jaw. Unsafe thoughts, you slap yourself to your senses. ‘Next stop, the Grand Line!’ Luffy declares, pointing out to sea, bringing your thoughts to a halt.

Settling down into the space beside Zoro, you open the heavy safe, pulling out and reading through the case files that you needed, beneath a bounty poster of Kuroo of the Black Cat Pirates.

Flipping through the pages upon pages listing the pirate’s crimes, you speak offhandedly to the man beside you. ‘If you’re Roronoa Zoro,’ you nod towards the white-hilted sword leaning against the wall, ‘–that must be the famed Wado Ichimonji, isn’t it?’

His eyes snap open, turning to you. ‘How do you–,’ ‘I, too, trained at Shimotsuki Village,’ you face him, expression vacant. ‘Granted, the Wado on its own is a legendary sword, a prized heirloom of Shimotsuki Kozaburo, who forged it,’ you hum, glancing down, running a palm over the scabbard of your own sword, ‘–handed down to Shimotsuki Koushiro, who gave it to his daughter Kuina,’ you look up at him again, levelling him with a knowing stare from where he’s leaning away from you slightly, eyes narrowing a fraction. ‘It was then handed to you. Roronoa Zoro. I presume you protect it with your life.’

‘Who are you?’ he prods, sitting upright again, straightening his shoulders to feign confidence – distrust. You meet him head on, self-assured to return the qualm, ‘I’m [name],’ you introduce yourself for the second time, ‘–otherwise Hikari, former shinobi and scholar of the Shimotsuki region.’

‘How come I never met you?’ he asks, tone wary. ‘You have. Every student in the village knew you, Zoro,’ your lips uptick faintly. ‘You just didn’t know them, engrossed in your tunnelled dream, working towards it with the only other student who was above your raw prowess. It was admirable, and it’s partly why I took up a second sword. It’s funny we ended up on the same ship,’ you reply, lifting the scabbards at your side.

He regards you, considering, as you turn back to the folder in your lap. ‘You have a story,’ he decides finally, the words more of a statement than a question as he rests back onto the wall, closing his eyes once more. ‘About as much as the next person,’ you answer, peeking up from the pages to watch him once more, chest falling and rising with his shallow, controlled breaths.

You sit in charged, slowly tranquil silence beside the napping swordsman, engrossed in the inconsistencies of the arrest warrant and report. Your eyes begin to droop as you close the file shut, gazing out at the endless horizon, sunset meeting twilight, and succumb to the greedy claws of sleep.

Morning come, you’re dressed and clean, slotting the case file and bounty poster into the pockets of your duffel. You sit cross legged on the deck beside Luffy, watching him work on what looks like a skull and crossbones with a straw hat as he regales the story of what went down in Shells Town. You don’t have the heart to tell him the lines of teeth (?) are wonky, lips pressed together to hold back a giggle. A passion project, you suppose. ‘D’you like it?’ he looks to you for approval, beaming when you nod at him, smiling shakily. He remains none the wiser, turning to the girl at the bow, pushing up her glasses as she runs a hand across the coveted map to the Grand Line.

‘Hey, Nami. Nami!’ he calls, and she looks up at him, her focus skewed. ‘What.’ she deadpans, annoyance creeping into her voice at being disrupted. He grins, clumsily bending to pick up the large fabric. ‘It’s ready!’

‘And what is…it?’ she asks, nonplussed, and you close your eyes, lips pursed, reaching for inner peace. ‘Our Jolly Roger! Every pirate crew has to have one, and now we do!’ You whoop weakly in support, fist raised. ‘We are not a crew, and you are most definitely not hanging that on my boat.’ His smile wavers, and you pat his back in comfort. The door to the galley opens, and he perks up again.

‘Hey Zoro! Check it out,’ he displays it, much like how a kid seeks approval on an art project. Zoro takes in the Roger, before looking back up at Luffy. ‘That’s unique,’ he mutters, walking to the port rail, at which you can’t help but snicker.

‘Nami I think the toilet’s broken,’ he tells her, before glancing at you, head cocked at your laughter. You shrug mirthfully, turning to Nami when she responds, and your cheery expression melts. 'We don't have a toilet.’

‘Oh.’ He looks away from both your probing stares, bobbing his chin at the door. ‘Well something back there’s leaking.’

Nami curses in alarm, storming into the galley as you scrunch your nose in disgust at him. ‘Gross.’ ‘What?’

She stomps back out, finger pointed at him. ‘We’re taking in water. What did you do?’

‘I didn’t do anything,’ he quips, face twisting petulantly. ‘With how you’re always clanging your swords around all the time, you must’ve broken something!’ she exclaims gesturing at his swords, and you step back, hands subconsciously pressing your sword guard closer to your hip.

‘If you’re such a good thief then maybe you should’ve stolen a better boat,’ he shoots back, words scathing.

Luffy steps in before the fight can escalate, calling for a crew meeting, and stand beside him wordlessly as the others chorus “not a crew.’’ You observe the tension between the two as he talks about getting a new ship, fit for the Grand Line – they’ve met only recently before being put into the small confines of her boat, from what Luffy told you, both aiming for different targets, iffy and apprehensive around the other.

The group suddenly goes silent, looking to you for your opinion. You’d kept your ears open, despite not participating in the discussion, thank seas, pertaining to the name of the crew. ‘The Gecko Islands are pretty safe, and their port town Syrup Village is well known for their shipbuilding – it's quiet and relatively free of pirates. We could go there?’ you nod slowly, offering information from what you’ve learnt on your travels.

‘Perfect! Great job, quartermaster and navigator,’ he smiles at you, before pointedly nodding at Nami, who sighs heavily.

‘You’re still not hanging that on my ship.’

kryscent '24 do not repost or translate without credits | likes or reblogs are much appreciated <3

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