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aliyahwritings · 1 month ago

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THE CONTRACTED HEART — Rafe Cameron (12)

MASTERLIST | Basketball Player!Rafe & Supermodel!Female Reader

Summary: Rafe Cameron, a basketball star, needs a marriage to fix his image, while Model!Reader needs one for citizenship. They may be the perfect solution for each other.

Warnings: smut, descriptions of violence, jealousy, usage of drugs, talks about body image/ed, angst, and lots of bickering. Reader is confident, a people-pleaser, has a traumatic past, and is a sunshine with an attitude. Rafe is a whore, possessive, cocky, and secretive about his past.

Word Count: 7k words

Aliyah's Notes: me when i come back to life after a month of inactivity ☝️😈 say goodbye to the good times guys we're slowly falling into hell

You stood in front of the full-length mirror, surrounded by a chaotic pile of clothes scattered across the floor. Dresses, skirts, jeans, and even your old sweatpants were strewn about like the aftermath of a fashion war.

Living with Rafe for the past two days had been an adjustment—his penthouse was sleek, modern, and always spotless… a stark contrast to your current state of disarray. It made you self-conscious sometimes, like when you’d spilled coffee on the pristine marble countertop and panicked while scrubbing it clean before he noticed.

Your brows furrowed as you held up a pair of ripped jeans and a plain white crop top. “Too casual,” you muttered, tossing them aside. Next came a flowy sundress. “Too try-hard.”

A frustrated sigh escaped your lips as you sank onto the edge of your bed, arms crossed. Why were you putting so much thought into this? It wasn’t like this basketball game was your debut as his fiancée. Well, technically it was, but it’s not like anyone expected you to look the part.

Or maybe they did?

Rafe hadn’t given you any details, just a cocky grin and a, ‘Don’t embarrass me.’ The memory of his smirk made you groan.

You picked up a sweater, holding it against your chest before throwing it onto the growing pile. Why does it even matter? It’s just his stupid game. You’re going because… You paused, biting your lip. Because you lived with him now. Because you were his fiancée. Because showing up wasn’t optional.

Your gaze drifted to the jersey draped over the back of your chair. His number, 13, stood out in bold print. Would wearing his jersey to the game feel too... personal? No, that was ridiculous. People wore jerseys all the time. It wasn’t special. It didn’t mean anything.

Right?

Right.

You hesitated before picking it up, your fingers brushing over the soft fabric. It smelled faintly of his cologne, and something about that made you pause. You shook the thought away and slipped it on, the material loose and comfortable against your skin. It paired surprisingly well with the black mini skirt you’d put on earlier—a little sporty, a little casual. Perfect. You turned to the mirror, adjusting the hem and smoothing out the fabric.

For a split second, you wondered what he’d think when he saw you. Would he tease you? Would he flash that grin that somehow made your stomach flip? The thought made your chest tighten, and you scolded yourself immediately because you didn't care about his opinion.

Your cheeks warmed despite your internal protest. Grabbing your bag, you made your way to the door, slipping on your shoes with determined efficiency. Your phone buzzed just as you were about to leave. Unlocking it, you found a series of messages from Rafe.

Rafe: You better not be late. Superstition or not, you’re about to be my good luck charm.

Rafe: BTW, try not to drool too much when you see me on the court.

Your lips twitched despite yourself, a reluctant smile creeping onto your face. You quickly typed back:

You: Don’t flatter yourself. I’m just going there for the snacks.

His reply came almost immediately.

Rafe: Liar. You’re obsessed with me.

Rafe: BTW, that jersey on the chair? My idea. You’re welcome.

You blinked at the screen, heat prickling at your neck. How does he know? The man must’ve had a sixth sense for reading your mind. Or he’d guessed—he did that a lot too. Before you could think of a retort, another message popped up.

Rafe: Also, don’t leave without turning off the kitchen lights again. Unless you want me to write you a manual for living here.

Your lips twitched despite yourself, a reluctant smile breaking free. He was insufferable, and yet the thought of him noticing the smallest things—like your mistakes or your outfit—made your chest ache in a way you weren’t ready to admit.

You: Good luck, Rafe. You’ll need it.

Rafe: The only luck I need is you in that jersey.

You rolled your eyes, locking your phone and shoving it into your bag with a shake of your head. His ego was unmatched, but as you stepped out the door, a tiny flicker of anticipation stirred in your chest—a feeling you couldn’t quite name but weren’t ready to let go of either.

The leather seats of the car felt cool beneath you as you shifted in place, fingers tapping restlessly against your bag. Gregory, your driver, glanced at you through the rearview mirror, offering a sympathetic smile.

“Sorry about the delay, Miss. It’s the construction on 5th Avenue—completely backed up. I’ll do my best to get you there on time.”

“It’s fine, Gregory. Not your fault,” you replied with a sympathetic smile.

Outside, the glow of brake lights illuminated the street, a reminder of how hopelessly stuck you were. The distant sound of car horns blended into the hum of the city, making the minutes feel like hours. You glanced at the time on your phone. Rafe’s game had probably started, or was about to.

With a sigh, you opened your messages, typing quickly.

You: Traffic’s insane. Running late.

The reply came almost immediately.

Rafe: Typical. My fiancée can’t even show up on time.

You rolled your eyes, already expecting the teasing.

You: Not my fault NYC doesn’t know how to manage its roads.

Rafe: I’ll pass the message along to the mayor. Very helpful.

You could practically hear the smirk in his words.

You: Be serious for once.

Rafe: I am serious. If you miss me scoring, it’s grounds for annulment.

Your lips twitched despite yourself, fingers hovering over the screen before typing back.

You: Don’t tempt me.

Rafe: Tempting you is, like, my full-time job.

You leaned back against the seat, biting back a grin. The nerve of this man. The audacity. Still, his ability to lighten the mood—even when he was being insufferable—was irritatingly effective.

You: Just play well. I’ll be there soon.

Rafe: Don’t worry, pretty girl. I’m saving all my best moves for when you’re watching.

You locked your phone with a shake of your head, stuffing it into your bag. Gregory, ever the professional, glanced at you again.

“Almost there, Miss. Just a few more blocks.”

“Thanks, Greg,” you murmured, tugging at the hem of Rafe’s jersey. The fabric felt oddly comforting against your skin, a reminder of the strange new reality you were navigating. Living with him, wearing his number, showing up to his games like a dutiful fiancée—it was all so... surreal.

By the time the car pulled up to the arena, the faint roar of the crowd was already audible. You stepped out, adjusting the strap of your bag and smoothing down your skirt. Gregory gave you a small wave before driving off, leaving you standing at the entrance with a mix of nerves and anticipation.

As you made your way through the bustling hallway, you couldn’t help but notice the lingering stares. Heads turned, whispers followed, and you caught snippets of conversations that made your stomach twist.

“Oh, my God! That’s her, isn’t it? YN YLN?”

“She’s gorgeous. I saw her in that Vogue spread last month.”

“Yeah, but don’t you think it’s a weird match? She doesn’t seem like his type.”

“I heard their engagement was super sudden. Like, out of nowhere.”

You kept your head high, forcing yourself to focus on the sound of your heels clicking against the floor. The familiar pressure of public scrutiny was something you’d grown used to as a model, but this was different. This wasn’t about your career. This was about you—your personal life, your choices, your supposed love story with Rafe.

The tension only grew as you climbed the stairs to the seating area. You found your seat with your name on a piece of paper, sliding into the seat and exhaling slowly. The crowd around you was buzzing with excitement, their cheers and chatter filling the air. You adjusted the jersey again, pulling it down slightly as your eyes scanned the court below.

Players were warming up, their movements fluid and confident. Your gaze lingered on Rafe almost instinctively. He was standing near the bench, laughing at something one of his teammates said. Even from a distance, his presence was magnetic—broad shoulders, easy swagger, and that stupid grin.

You were so focused on him that you almost didn’t notice the glances directed your way. A group of women a few rows ahead whispered behind cupped hands, casting subtle looks in your direction. Two men seated nearby exchanged knowing smirks, as if they’d just shared some private joke at your expense.

Your phone buzzed in your lap, pulling you from your thoughts.

Rafe: You better be watching. Game’s about to start.

You glanced down at the message, your lips curving into a faint smile.

You: I’m here. Stop texting me and focus.

Rafe: Can’t help it. You’re too pretty. I can’t look away.

You stared at his reply, the words making your chest tighten. He had a way of saying things that left you questioning whether he was teasing or if there was something deeper hidden beneath the surface. Shaking your head, you locked your phone, determined not to let him get to you.

But as you tucked your phone back into your bag, you couldn’t resist the pull to look up. Your eyes scanned the court, weaving through the blur of players warming up and the steady hum of the crowd. Then, you found him.

Rafe stood near the bench line, towel slung casually over his shoulder, his stance relaxed but commanding. He wasn’t talking to his teammates anymore or listening to the coach’s instructions.

His attention was fixed on you.

The moment your eyes met, it felt like the air shifted. The noise of the arena—the cheers, the clapping, the announcer’s voice—all seemed to fade into the background. It was just him, standing there, looking at you like the game didn’t matter. Like you were the only thing that did.

His lips curved into a small, knowing smile, one that was entirely too confident for its own good. Slowly, he tilted his head, his blue eyes holding yours with a softness that contrasted the cocky energy he carried on the court.

Then, he mouthed the words, “You’re so pretty.”

You felt your breath catch, the heat rising to your cheeks as his gaze lingered. It wasn’t just the words that made your chest flutter; it was the way he looked at you, like he was seeing something no one else could.

Heart pounding, you mouthed back, “Focus on the game.”

His smile deepened, transforming into a grin that made your stomach flip. He shook his head lightly, his eyes crinkling with amusement. “Can’t.”

The unspoken word hung between you, and for a moment, it felt like the space between the court and the stands wasn’t so far after all. There was a vulnerability in his expression, a quiet intensity that made you wonder if he meant more than he was letting on.

He lifted his hand, brushing his thumb across his chin in a subtle motion, but the meaning was unmistakable: he was thinking about you.

The referee’s whistle blew sharply, breaking the spell. Rafe turned back toward the court, tossing the towel to a teammate with a practiced ease, but not before glancing at you one last time. His gaze softened, and for a fleeting second, you could have sworn there was something unspoken in his eyes—something that felt dangerously close to longing.

You exhaled shakily, your hands tightening around the strap of your bag. Around you, the crowd erupted as the game began, but your focus was still on him. The way he moved, so sure of himself, every step purposeful, every pass calculated—it was mesmerizing.

The arena buzzed with energy as the game commenced. The rhythmic dribble of the basketball and the sound of sneakers squeaking against the polished court filled the air, blending with the cheers of the crowd. You found yourself transfixed, your gaze locked on Rafe as he moved across the court with the ease of someone born to dominate the game.

He was commanding a force of nature. Every movement was deliberate, powerful and precise. He wove through the opposing team effortlessly, his presence undeniable as he directed his teammates with sharp gestures and focused intensity. The scorebag flashed: 2-0. Rafe’s team was already pulling ahead, and it was clear who the driving force was.

You couldn’t take your eyes off him. Every time he scored, the arena erupted, but your heart thudded for a different reason. There was something magnetic about the way he played—a mixture of skill, confidence, and an edge that made it impossible to look away. Even from a distance, you could see the determination etched on his face, the slight smirk when his shot landed perfectly in the net, the way he winked at you.

This was Rafe Cameron at his peak, untouchable and undeniably captivating.

Suddenly, the seat next to you shifted. You felt the slight weight of someone standing next to you, but you didn’t glance over. Your attention remained locked on Rafe as he leapt to intercept a pass, the sheer athleticism in his jump drawing another cheer from the crowd.

But then, a familiar voice cut through the noise, low and dripping with condescension.

“Well, this is unexpected.”

Your stomach dropped, and for a fleeting moment, the lively arena seemed to tilt and blur around you. Reluctantly, you tore your gaze away from the court, where Rafe had been dominating with his usual confidence, and turned to the source of the interruption.

There she was, Chiara Romano, lounging in the seat beside you like she owned the place. She looked as impeccable as ever, her designer coat draped artfully over her shoulders, not a single strand out of place. Her lips curved into a smug smile that made your stomach churn, her perfectly manicured nails tapping lightly against the armrest.

“Chiara,” you greeted flatly, forcing a polite smile that didn’t come close to reaching your eyes. “Didn’t expect to see you here... sitting next to me,” you added under your breath, your tone laced with barely concealed irritation.

“Of course I’d be here,” she said breezily, flipping her hair over one shoulder in a gesture so practiced it felt rehearsed. “Rafe and I go way back, you know. I’ve been to more of his games than I can count.”

You clenched your jaw but refused to give her the satisfaction of a reaction. Instead, you turned back toward the court, your eyes automatically searching for Rafe. “That’s nice,” you replied tersely, hoping to end the conversation there.

But Chiara wasn’t one to take a hint.

“You know, basketball games can be overwhelming if you’re not used to them,” she continued, her tone dripping with faux sympathy. “The noise, the energy, the spotlight—it’s not for everyone.”

“I’m managing just fine,” you replied evenly, your voice steady despite the simmering annoyance beneath the surface.

“I’m sure you are,” she said with a patronizing little laugh. She leaned back in her seat, crossing one leg over the other as if settling in for a long chat. “So,” she said with an air of faux curiosity, “how’s life been since we last saw each other? It’s been, what, almost a month?”

You resisted the urge to groan. The last thing you wanted was to engage in small talk with her. “Not much,” you replied curtly. “You?”

Chiara’s eyes sparkled with amusement, as if she relished the power dynamic of the exchange. “Oh, nothing too exciting,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. Then, with a calculated tilt of her head, she added, “But ‘nothing much’ seems like a strange way to describe getting engaged. That’s pretty big, wouldn’t you say?”

“Yeah, it is.”

Chiara’s smile widened, and she leaned in just a fraction, as though to share some intimate secret. You instinctively recoiled, unnerved by her sudden proximity. Whether it was meant to intimidate you or to ensure you heard every word of her next comment, you weren’t sure.

Either way, you didn’t like it.

“I have to admit something,” she said, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “I was surprised to hear about the engagement—” Womp womp, you thought. “—I mean, Rafe never struck me as the settling-down type.”

You exhaled sharply, turning to face her with a calmness you didn’t quite feel. Your voice was smooth, but the edge was unmistakable. “Maybe he wasn’t with the right person to give you that impression.”

Chiara’s eyes narrowed, her lips pressing together in a thin line. The sudden shift in her posture told you everything—you’d struck a nerve. “And you think you’re the… right person?”

You leaned in just slightly, your gaze sharp and unyielding, your lips curling into a smug smile that didn't reach your eyes. “Well, I mean, I’m the one he plans to marry, aren’t I?”

The words landed like a slap, and for a brief moment, her face flickered with a blend of jealousy and frustration, a brief vulnerability that she quickly tried to mask.

“Right,” she nodded, the sound forced. “But you do realize, Rafe isn’t usually into girls like you. He has... a type. Or at least, he used to.”

You raised an eyebrow, genuinely confused by her attempt at a jab. “Okay?” you said, a little too casual.

She laughed bitterly, flapping her hands in the air, clearly trying to backpedal. “I didn’t mean anything bad by that. You’re beautiful, sure, but you’re just not the type Rafe typically goes for.”

Was she serious right now?

What’s so surprising about a white guy only being interested in white girls? Did she think I was born yesterday?

You scoffed, voice dripping with sarcasm. “And what exactly am I supposed to do with that info, Chiara? Am I supposed to fall apart? ‘Oh no, another white guy who doesn’t like brown girls like me. My life is over. I wish I was white.’ Is that the reaction you were hoping for?”

Chiara blinked, clearly thrown off by the intensity in your voice. The color drained slightly from her face as you held your ground, watching her squirm just a little.

“You think you're clever, don’t you?” she said, her voice now tinged with frustration, but you could see the crack in her facade.

“Not really,” you said, shrugging nonchalantly. “Just tired of people thinking they can throw their insecurities at me and watch me flinch. But I don’t play that game.”

Her jaw tightened as she glanced around, searching for a way to regain control. “You know, you’re not exactly what he needs. You’re all—” She gestured to you, eyes sweeping over your appearance, “—flashy, a model, all glitz and glamour. But Rafe needs someone real. Someone who actually gets him.”

You leaned forward just a bit, a challenge flickering in your eyes. “I’m pretty sure I get him just fine. What you’re really trying to say is that you can’t stand the fact that he’s chosen me. And it’s not because I’m not ‘his type.’ It’s because I’m the one who got him. And that’s something you can’t wrap your fucking head around.”

The words landed heavy, and you saw the small twitch in her eye. For a brief moment, she looked almost... vulnerable. Then, just as quickly, the facade slipped back on.

Chiara scoffed, her lips curling into a tight smile. “You’re just a placeholder. He’s going to get bored of you eventually.”

"Listen," you began, stepping closer to Chiara, your voice steady and sharp. "I’m here to watch my fiancé win his match, not waste my time arguing with someone who clearly peaked in high school. So why don’t you take your insecurities and your cheap, high-school jabs and shove them so far up your—"

"Hey, baby," a familiar voice interrupted, smooth and warm like honey.

Your head snapped to the side, and there he was—Rafe, running to you, with that signature cocky grin. His hair was damp with sweat, strands clinging to his forehead, and his jersey clung to every ridge of his chest, leaving very little to the imagination. The gleam of sweat gliding down his forearms and neck made your mouth dry, and for a moment, you completely forgot where you were.

"Did you see that dunk I just pulled off?" he asked, his tone a mix of pride and boyish excitement.

You barely registered the words because all you could think about was how ridiculously good he looked. His muscles practically strained against his jersey, his shoulders broad and commanding. Even the sweat dripping from his jawline seemed unfairly attractive.

Damn it, why did he have to look like that right now?

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to focus as Rafe jogged up the steps toward you, his eyes lighting up when they met yours.

"Did you see it?" he pressed, still grinning.

"Yeah," you lied, your lips curving into a soft smile as you reached up to adjust the collar of his jersey. "Don’t let it go to your head, though."

“Too late,” Rafe chuckled, leaning in just enough for you to catch the faint scent of his cologne. “That dunk? It was for you. Thought you might like it since, you know, you’re my good luck charm and all.”

You raised a brow, fighting to keep your expression indifferent, though the warmth creeping up your neck betrayed you. “Really? Do I look impressed?”

He inched closer, the grin on his face softening into something that felt almost intimate, his voice dropping lower. “You look hot, actually.” His eyes flickered to your lips for a heartbeat before meeting yours again. “Seeing you out there with my number on your back? It’s driving me insane.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat when his gaze lingered just a little too long, sending your heart racing.

“Cameron! Get your pussy-whipped ass back on the court!” JJ Maybank, his teammate, shouted echoed from across the gym.

Rafe groaned, the spell broken, before dropping his head dramatically onto your lap with a low chuckle. He turned his face to press a quick, feather-light kiss to your cheek, the touch leaving you both flustered and breathless, before he jogged back to the court.

For the next 30 minutes, everything was perfect. The energy was electric, Rafe’s team seemed to win and every time he did so he’d send a wink in your direction. You felt good, peaceful. You felt comfortable, almost like you were meant to be here cheering for him. It was too good that you almost forgot Chiara’s presence next to you… until she spoke.

“You know, Rafe and I used to have this little tradition after his games,” she said casually, as though the memory had just occurred to her. “We’d go to this rooftop downtown—he always said it was his favorite view of the city. We’d stay up there for hours, just talking about everything and nothing. It was… special.”

Your grip on your drink tightened, but you forced yourself to keep your eyes on the court. Rafe had just stolen the ball, and the crowd roared as he raced toward the basket.

“You know,” she began, almost lazily, “Rafe and I used to have this little post-game ritual. He’d always say I was his good luck charm—”

Your heart clenched painfully. The phrase echoed in your mind, sharp and cutting like broken glass. Good luck charm. That was what Rafe had called you just today, his lips brushing your ear as he teased you in the stands. It had felt personal, intimate, like a secret between you and him. But now it seemed cheap, rehearsed—just another line he used, a meaningless phrase recycled from his past with others.

You kept your face neutral, though your pulse thundered in your ears.

“He always said he couldn’t play his best unless I was watching,” Chiara continued, her voice tinged with amusement. “It was sweet, really. Afterward, he’d grab my hand, pull me into his car, and we’d drive down to this diner he loved. He insisted the milkshakes there were the best in town.”

You couldn’t stop your eyes from finding Rafe on the court. He was electric, his movements precise and powerful, his confidence unmistakable. But as you stared at him, anger and hurt churned in your chest. You felt foolish, betrayed, for letting yourself believe you were special to him.

“And when he scored that game-winning shot last season,” Chiara added, leaning slightly closer as if to deliver the final blow, “he said it was because I was there. He made me feel like I was part of it, you know? Like we were a team.”

The game’s final whistle blew, and the crowd erupted in cheers, but you couldn’t bring yourself to clap. Your hands stayed clenched in your lap, your eyes locked on Rafe as he turned toward the stands.

His gaze swept across the crowd until it landed on you.

You weren’t smiling. You weren’t even standing. You just sat there, staring at him, your emotions too tangled to mask. Hurt, anger, and disappointment simmered beneath the surface, your expression giving away enough for him to know something was wrong.

Rafe’s brow furrowed, his grin disappearing entirely as he took a step closer, clearly intending to come over. But you didn’t wait. You pushed yourself up from the seat and turned on your heel, weaving your way through the crowd toward the exit.

“YN!” His voice carried over the noise, confusion laced in his tone. You didn’t stop.

He called your name again, louder this time, his footsteps heavy behind you as he tried to catch up. “Hey, wait—what’s going on?”

But you couldn’t face him. Not now. Not with your chest tightening and your mind replaying Chiara’s words like a broken record. Good luck charm. The phrase rattled in your head, mocking you for ever thinking you were something new to him.

Just as you reached the corridor leading out of the stadium, Rafe’s hand grabbed your wrist, halting you in your tracks.

“YN, stop,” he said, his voice firmer now, though there was still a trace of confusion in it. He turned you around gently, his blue eyes searching yours. “What the hell is wrong?”

You yanked your wrist free, your emotions bubbling too close to the surface. “You're such a fucking asshole,” you snapped in your native language.

“I don’t know what you're saying!” he said, confused. “What is this? Why are you walking away from me?”

“Hey!” His tone was sharper now, frustration evident as he jogged after you. You were halfway down the empty corridor when his voice rose again, louder this time. “What the hell is going on?”

Still, you didn’t look back.

Rafe finally caught up, his footsteps heavy as he moved in front of you, blocking your path. “YN, stop!” he barked, his chest rising and falling with exertion. His blue eyes searched your face, desperate for answers. “What is wrong with you?”

You gave him nothing, your expression unreadable as you stared past him, silent and unyielding.

“Seriously? You’re just going to ignore me?” Rafe demanded, his voice rising with irritation.

You crossed your arms, your jaw tightening as you stepped around him and continued walking. He let out a low curse behind you but followed, his confusion giving way to simmering anger.

“You drive me insane,” he murmured as he touched his hair before going back to shower quickly and change.

Rafe stepped into the dimly lit private parking lot, his thoughts tangled in knots as he tried to make sense of your behavior. The tension from earlier lingered, gnawing at him with every step he took. What could he have done to make you this angry? He replayed the events in his mind, searching for answers but coming up empty-handed.

Then, he spotted you.

You were leaning against his car, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself as though shielding yourself from more than just the cold. Your gaze was fixed on the ground, a deep frown etched on your face. Rafe froze for a moment, his confusion momentarily replaced by something softer.

Even now, angry and upset, you looked stunning.

He noticed the way your bottom lip jutted out slightly in an unconscious pout, a habit he’d come to associate with your frustration. It was endearing, almost enough to make him smile if the circumstances weren’t so tense. His eyes softened as he watched you, taking in the delicate lines of your profile and the way your hair shifted slightly with the cold breeze.

But then his phone buzzed in his pocket, the sudden noise shattering the stillness. The sound caught your attention, and your head snapped up to meet his gaze.

The moment your eyes locked, Rafe felt like he’d been struck.

Your glare was fiery, your anger radiating in waves that he could feel even from a distance. It was a look that could melt steel, and for a fleeting second, Rafe thought you might actually set him alight with sheer willpower.

In stark contrast, his own gaze held nothing but intensity, a raw, unguarded passion that made him forget to breathe. He knew you were furious, but he couldn’t stop the way his heart ached for you—or the way you made it race despite everything.

The phone in his pocket buzzed again, but he didn’t bother checking who it was. He pulled it out, pressed ‘decline’ without even glancing at the screen, and slipped it back into his pocket. His focus never wavered from you.

“Can I walk over,” he called out, his voice a mix of humor and hesitation, “or are you going to eat me alive?”

You didn’t respond. Your piercing stare didn’t falter, and the silence felt deafening.

If Rafe was honest, he was a little scared.

Drawing in a deep breath, he willed himself forward. Each step he took felt heavier, weighed down by the intensity of your gaze. When he reached the car, he pulled out his keys, unlocking the doors with a soft beep.

The sound seemed to jolt you, and without a word, you slipped past him and climbed into the passenger seat. He noticed the way you folded into yourself, shrinking away from him as you hugged your arms tighter against the biting New York City air.

Rafe stood outside for a moment, his hand gripping the door handle as he stared at you through the window. You wouldn’t even look at him, your face turned resolutely toward the dashboard. The cold breeze tugged at his jacket, but he barely felt it.

With a quiet sigh, he got into the driver’s seat, the air between you heavy with unspoken words. The tension was suffocating, and as he started the car, he couldn’t help but glance at you again, his chest tightening at the sight of your distant expression.

The car ride was agonizingly silent.

Rafe’s knuckles tightened on the steering wheel as he stole quick glances at you, each one more anxious than the last. The occasional flicker of streetlights illuminated your face, but you kept your gaze locked on the window, your expression unreadable.

"YN," he started, his voice quieter this time, almost cautious. "Are you going to tell me what’s going on?"

You didn’t even blink.

Rafe’s jaw clenched. "Come on," he said more firmly. "I’m not a mind reader. Just talk to me."

Still, nothing.

He sighed heavily, his frustration bubbling just beneath the surface. “I don’t know what I did to make you this mad, but—”

“Then stop talking,” you interrupted, your voice sharp and cold.

That shut him up. The rest of the drive was thick with tension, the kind that settled in your chest and made it hard to breathe.

By the time he pulled into the parking garage, Rafe’s patience was stretched thin. He parked the car, cutting the engine, and turned to you.

“Are we really going to keep doing this?” he asked, his tone edged with irritation. “You’re acting like I killed your dog or something. Just tell me what’s wrong!”

You ignored him, pulling open the door and stepping out into the cold. The slam of the door echoed through the garage.

“Great,” Rafe muttered under his breath, getting out and slamming his own door harder than necessary. “This is just perfect.”

He followed you into the building, his longer strides catching up to you easily. “YN, stop,” he said, his voice growing more urgent. “Will you please just stop for a second?”

You didn’t.

The moment you stepped into the apartment, you made a beeline for your bedroom. But Rafe was right behind you, his frustration boiling over as he grabbed your wrist to stop you.

“Enough,” he said, his voice low and firm. “What the hell is going on?”

You yanked your arm free, glaring at him with such ferocity that he actually stepped back. “Don’t,” you snapped, your voice cutting like a blade.

Without waiting for a response, you stormed into your room and slammed the door shut so hard the walls seemed to vibrate.

Rafe stood there for a moment, stunned. His hands rested on his hips as he exhaled a shaky breath. “Seriously?” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “Are you for real right now?”

From the other side of the door, you could hear him pacing. His voice grew louder, tinged with disbelief and frustration.

“YN, come on! What the hell is your problem? Why are you acting like this?”

You pressed your back against the door, your arms wrapping around yourself as your emotions warred inside you. Chiara’s words played on a relentless loop in your mind—good luck charm—and your chest ached with a confusing mix of anger and betrayal.

When Rafe’s voice came again, it was louder, more exasperated. “I don’t get why you’re so mad!”

That was it.

You flung the door open, your eyes blazing as you stepped out to face him.

“You don’t get why I’m mad?” you snapped, your voice trembling with raw emotion. “Are you serious, Rafe? You really have no idea?”

Rafe blinked, caught off guard by your sudden outburst. “No! I don’t!” he shot back. “One second we’re fine, and the next you’re acting like I did something unforgivable!”

“Your good luck charm!” you practically yelled, the nickname tasting bitter on your tongue. “Every time I think you’re finally getting better, that I can finally get along with you, something comes along and ruins everything. It’s like I can’t trust a single thing you say, Rafe!”

Rafe’s brows furrowed deeply, his confusion palpable. “What are you even talking about?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about!” you snapped, your voice breaking as emotion overwhelmed you. “Chiara. She said it—she said you used to call her your good luck charm. That you couldn’t play without her watching. And then you—you turn around and call me the same thing. Do you have a script you use with women, or am I just another recycled chapter in your pathetic little book of tricks?”

Rafe’s mouth opened, but no words came out. He stared at you, stunned, as if trying to process what you were saying. “I—I never said that to her,” he finally managed, his voice quieter than before. “I don’t even know why she’d say that. I’ve never called her my good luck charm.”

“Oh, so now she’s the liar?” you shot back bitterly, crossing your arms. “Convenient, isn’t it? Blame her, act like you didn’t do anything wrong. But why would she make that up, Rafe? Why would she lie about something so specific?”

“I don’t know!” he said, his voice rising in frustration. “But I swear, YN, I never said that to her. That nickname—it’s yours. I called you that because I meant it. Because that’s what you are to me. I don’t just throw that around like it’s nothing.”

His words were raw, almost pleading, but they didn’t soothe the ache in your chest. You shook your head, stepping back. “How am I supposed to believe you? After everything—after all the lies, the games, the constant reminders that I’m just another person in your long, messy history—you expect me to just take your word for it?”

Rafe ran a hand through his hair, the frustration evident in his every movement. “I’m not lying to you, YN,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. “I know I’ve screwed up in the past, and I know I’ve given you a million reasons not to trust me. But this—this isn’t one of those times. Chiara’s lying, or twisting things, or—I don’t know. But I do know that I’ve never felt about her the way I feel about you.”

Your breath caught at his words, but you forced yourself to stay guarded. “And what way is that, exactly? Because it feels like I’m constantly walking a tightrope with you, Cameron. One wrong step, and it all falls apart.”

Rafe took a hesitant step closer, his expression pained. “I don’t want it to fall apart,” he said softly. “I’m trying, YN. I’m trying to be better—for you. I know I’m not perfect, and I know I don’t always get it right, but I care about you."

“If you care about me as much as you say you do,” you said, your voice trembling but steady, “then tell me what happened between you and her.”

Rafe froze, his jaw tightening as the weight of your words hit him. He took a small step back, almost as if putting physical distance between you could lessen the pressure. His eyes darted away, avoiding yours, and you could see the conflict etched into his face.

“Why?” he asked, his voice low and hesitant.

“Why?” you repeated, your voice rising as the flood of emotions inside you threatened to break free. “Why?!” Your chest heaved as you tried to contain the frustration boiling over. “Because if we’re going to have something real, something fresh and healthy, I need to know what happened between you two. I need to understand, Rafe.”

His brows furrowed deeply, and you could see the panic in his eyes. “I don’t… I don’t think I can,” he muttered, his voice barely audible.

The words hit you like a physical blow, and your breath caught in your throat. You felt your heart tighten, the ache in your chest spreading as tears stung your eyes. You blinked rapidly, trying to keep them from falling, but it was no use.

“Okay,” you said softly, your voice cracking. It wasn’t angry or accusatory—it was resigned, heavy with disappointment.

“YN, wait,” Rafe pleaded, stepping toward you, his voice desperate. “I—”

“No.” You cut him off sharply, your voice suddenly firm despite the tears streaming down your face. You held up a hand, keeping him at bay. “I don’t want to hear it, Rafe. I don’t want to talk to you right now.”

Rafe stared at you, his jaw tightening as he struggled to find the right words. But for the first time, you didn’t want to hear them.

Before he could say anything else, you turned on your heel and walked back into your room, slamming the door shut once more, leaving him standing there in silence.

The silence between you was deafening.

Rafe’s hand hung loosely by his side as he stood outside your door, staring at the wood like it would somehow provide answers. His chest rose and fell unevenly, the weight of your words still pressing on him like a heavy stone. The anger in your eyes, the way you looked at him—he could still feel it burning into him. But more than than, there was something else, something far deeper that gnawed at him, something that felt like it was tearing him apart.

With a frustrated groan, he let himself slide down the door, his back hitting it with a thud. He bent his knees, resting his head in his hands for a moment as he exhaled deeply, his mind racing with confusion. Why did this feel so goddamn difficult?

He had always been good at avoiding things, at keeping his distance from complications, at never allowing anyone to get too close romantically. But with you, it was different. Every touch, every look, every moment felt like something that mattered. More than that, it felt like it was changing him in ways he wasn’t sure he could handle.

He ran a hand through his hair, frustration bubbling up inside him like a storm waiting to break.

What the hell is wrong with me? he thought. Why am I so messed up about her?

The sound of movement behind him made him glance up. You had shifted as well, and now you were sitting on the floor with your back against the door. Your arms were crossed tightly over your chest, your face buried in your hands. It wasn’t a sobbing kind of silence, but more like two people utterly drained from the weight of everything that had happened.

He wanted to say something, anything, to break the tension. But words felt useless right now.

Ten minutes passed. Neither of you moved, both of you stuck in your own swirling thoughts. Rafe could hear his heart thundering in his chest, the confusion churning inside him. He wanted you. Badly. He could feel it—every inch of him aching for you, wanting to close the distance between you, but something held him back.

It wasn’t just the anger. It wasn’t just the words that had been said. It was the fear.

The fear of losing you, of fucking everything up, of showing you the side of him he’d spent so long burying deep inside.

Chiara. The past. His mistakes.

He had told himself that he could protect you from all that. That you didn’t need to know. But sitting here, staring at the door like it held all the answers, he realized how much he needed to open up. He needed you to understand.

“YN,” he muttered, his voice strained, “I… I can’t do this anymore. I’m so fucking lost.”

He hesitated for a second, feeling his throat tighten. “I don’t know how to do this,” he confessed, his voice breaking just a little. “I don’t know how to make it right between us. I just… I need you to understand. I need you to know what happened.”

Behind the door, you still didn’t look up, your face hidden in the shadows of the room, your eyes closed as though bracing yourself for the storm that was coming.

Rafe’s hands shook as he finally opened up, his emotions raw and unguarded in a way he had never allowed himself to be.

“Chiara,” he started, his voice low and rough. “She wasn’t just some ex. She was part of my life when I was at my lowest. When I was 19, I was… I was a fucking mess. I was lost. I was drowning in everything—drugs, alcohol, all that shit. I didn’t know who I was, and I didn’t care. I was just… numb. I needed something to keep me afloat, and Chiara, she was there. She was a part of that world. I don’t know why I thought she was the one who could help me, but she was. And I used her, just as much as she used me. We were a fucking disaster.”

He stopped there, the words tasting bitter in his mouth, but they were true. They were the only truth he had been hiding.

“I went to rehab, and when I came back, everything was different. But Chiara, she was still there, still holding on, and I didn’t know how to cut her off. I didn’t know how to let go. She was struggling, and I felt guilty—so I kept her around. I thought if I just… if I just stayed close, maybe I could make up for all the shit I did. I don’t know. But I wasn’t being honest. Not with her, not with mys I saidelf.”

His breath hitched, the weight of the past crashing into him like a wave. “And when I’ve never called her that. My good luck charm. I don’t know how she knows about it but I promise you, on everything precious in my life, I’ve never called her that… But when I say it to you, it’s different. It means something. You’re not some… replacement for her. You’re not some fucking substitute. You’re real. And that scares the hell out of me.”

He exhaled sharply, his voice barely above a whisper.Rafe leaned back against the door again, his head pressed to the cool surface, his eyes closing as a wave of exhaustion hit him. He was exposed now, more vulnerable than he had ever been, his heart in pieces. He had said everything that had been suffocating him, and yet, the silence still felt like it was swallowing him whole.

He waited, his breath shaky, his thoughts a whirl of regret and hope and fear. All he could do now was wait for you to respond, to open the door—or for you to walk away, to decide that he wasn’t worth the risk.

The waiting was unbearable.

chapter thirteen

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462 notes · View notes

binniesbooks · 6 months ago

Note

heyyy! absolutely loved your 100 followers special fic like it was so insanely good!!!

please can i request a bsf!beomgyu fic where he discovers through porn that women can squirt and during your next hangout he asks you about it and when you tell him you can he gets all excited and asks you to show him. this then ends in him fucking you till you squirt on his dick multiple times. can you make both beomgyu and the reader a switch if you don’t mind and only if you’re comfortable tho :) the beomgyu brain rot is getting to me 😭

• IS IT TRUE?

BG 001 .F23 2024

wc 3.6k

pairings bestfriend!Beomgyu x fem!reader

warnings switch reader x switch Gyu, mutual pining, porn watching, caught self relieving, oral sex (m. receiving), slight flood play, kissing, marking, unprotected sex, pull out method, squirting, mentions of hair pulling and scratching if you squint (+ anything I've missed)

faye's note I tried my best to make a great plot, I really did! I hope it worked. To the anon who requested this one, I'm sorry it took me so long, I was procrastinating, LMAO. SORRY 😭

"Beomgyu-" The nasty moans and lewd sounds coming from the computer were abruptly stopped when Beomgyu slammed his laptop shut.

"What the fuck were you watching?" Yeonjun's brows creased as he stared at the younger awkwardly sitting on the bed, a pillow on his lap and a blanket covering his lower half.

"W-what?" Beomgyu stammered.

Yeonjun's grin grew wider as his eyes scanned the room. A laptop that was forced shut, a box of tissues, a sweaty body in this air-conditioned room—what else was a guy to do, if not pleasure himself when alone?

"Damn, it looks like I've caught you at a bad time!" Yeonjun exclaimed, a faint chuckle rumbling within his chest. His teasing voice and giggles made Beomgyu blush.

"Okay, okay, I'll just talk to you later, take care of yourself first," Yeonjun said, throwing a knowing look and a teasing smile.

"H-hyung, hyung wait!" Beomgyu tried to stop Yeonjun, but the door was already shut. Besides, he can't just get up naked, can he?

He throws his head back against the pillow, groaning in embarrassment as he runs his palm against his face, muttering a frustrated "fuck" under his breath.

"So..." you started. "Why are you here again?"

"Can't a friend visit you? God, you're not as welcoming as before," Beomgyu barked, rolling his eyes as he threw the plastic bag full of snacks on the table and plopped down on your couch. And when he removes the hood of his jacket, he reveals the mess that was his hair underneath.

"I mean, you can, yeah. But... Do you know what time it is?" you replied, pulling your jacket against your body.

"3 o'clock," he answered.

"3 o'clock in what?"

"3 o'clock in the morning! But whatever!" he grunts, throwing a temper tantrum on the couch.

"Why are you here then?" you asked, sitting beside him.

"Just wanna see you. It's been a while," he muttered under his breath.

"You know you can't just drop by anytime, right?"

"I know, I know. I've just had trouble sleeping at night these past few days again," he sighed, leaning his head back on the couch.

"Am I your sleeping pill or something?" your brows raised and your voice teasing.

"What if I say that you're my medicine?" Beomgyu looked you straight in the eye. And there you are, embraced by his warm gaze, trapped inside the pretty door to his soul.

You leaned closer to him, planting a soft kiss on his cheek, running your fingers through his hair.

"Stay the night—or whatever you call the time now, I hope you have a good rest even if it's just for today."

Beomgyu has been your friend since you were in your teenage years—typical. He shuts other girls off, as he only gives his attention to you. He doesn't want to be involved in any relationship of sort—that includes you, though. He may be your best friend, your best partner, but neither of you two admitted anything. Just two young hearts showing care and love towards each other.

Some say you should date each other, which the two of you would only answer with a sheepish smile. Sometimes, he would drop by at your place, hang out with you, and enjoy the rest of his free time. You've been to his place a few times, but you insisted on him going to your place instead, since he's living with his friends.

Often times, you'll share a kiss or two with him—anything but a kiss on the lips. He loves it when you sit on his lap while he plays at your computer, giving your shoulder a few bites and planting soft kisses. He loves cuddling you to sleep, draping his arm over your waist, pulling you closer to his chest, his warm breath fanning across your nape.

Beomgyu could walk around your house half naked without you giving a fuck. He does anything as if it were his own home, and you don't mind at all. You're used to it, nothing new.

Everything about this is pretty normal between the two of you. The kisses, the skinship, the hugs, the cuddles—anything that a 'just friends' friend won't normally do. Well, in your case, it was.

"Can you come closer? I need to feel your warmth," Beomgyu pleaded, unzipping his jacket.

"Gyu, how much closer do you need me to be? Should I just sew my skin onto yours?" you chuckled as you shifted on the bed, scooting closer to him.

"I missed you. I missed holding you in my arms." he mumbles as he hugs you tight.

"You're such a baby, Gyu. Do you know that?" you complained, burying your face in his chest, hugging him closer.

A few minutes had passed, yet Beomgyu was still awake. Busying himself with combing his fingers through your hair as he watches you peacefully sleep.

His fingers traced the outline of your face. "I love you. I hope you know that," he whispered, planting a kiss to the top of your head before he shuts his eyes.

You woke up with heavy limbs draped upon your body. Beomgyu may have mistaken you for a pillow.

"Gyu... Gyu, you're so heavy, move over." Your voice cracked as you gasped for air.

"Gyu, what the hell, scoot over," you grunt again, trying to push him, but his body is far too big for you to push on your own.

"Choi Beomgyu!" You shouted.

Beomgyu squirmed. And instead of getting himself off of you, he pulled you even closer.

"What's your deal?" You frowned, trying to push him away.

Beomgyu grunts as he hides in your neck, rolling over, causing the two of you to crash down onto the floor.

But instead of getting angry at him, your frown turned into a fit of laughter as you saw him wince and massage the back of his head and his buttocks.

"Did you have a good sleep?" you asked, stirring a cup of coffee.

"Mhm, I did, thank you. I'll get going now, the boys might already be looking for me," Beomgyu said as he pulled you in for a hug.

"You're not gonna eat breakfast here?"

His tall figure towers over you as he pinches your cheeks, "I'll do it next time. Let's have breakfast together next time, okay? Eat the snacks I brought earlier and take care of yourself." You watched him step out, closing the door behind him.

It hadn't even been a whole 24 hours when he came back to your place.

"I wanna watch a movie; the guys are boring to be with!" he frowns, feigning frustration--- He actually never asked them to do so. Just a reason for him to drop by your place again.

"Bring the ice cream from the freezer, then," you said as you prepared the couch, bringing some soft pillows and a fuzzy blanket.

You actually have no idea what the movie was all about. You even missed the title because you went to the restroom last minute. The only thing you know is that it's a 18+ rated movie. Well, it's not your first time watching something like this with Beomgyu, you've watched multiple movies that aren't child friendly.

Plus, the fact that the two of you could even talk about anything sexual as if you're just talking about food and any other light topics makes this normal. Although sexually wise, neither one of you has experience. Considering that you both shut people away as if your world only revolves around each other.

And although this isn't the first time you're watching something like this with Beomgyu, it is the first time you saw him shove a pillow over his lap. It is the first time he's trying his best to avoid any skin contact with you.

"Is everything okay? You're so distant," you commented, licking a spoonful of ice cream.

"Actually... There's.. there's something I want to ask," he started, turning his body to face you.

"That is?"

"That.. I.. Uhm, I just watched this from... You know..."

"Porn?" you bluntly answered.

"Y-yeah. And uh, is it true?"

"What's true? Geez, say it straight, Gyu," you rolled your eyes as you dug another spoonful of ice cream.

"Let me finish my sentence!" he pouts, making you chuckle. Beomgyu wasn't normally nervous around you, this is the first time.

"Is is true.. that.. girls can.. uhm.. the liquid... Like.." he continued stammering.

You looked at him straight in the eye and said, "That girls squirt?" Beomgyu nodded frantically as he tried to avert his gaze.

"It's more common than you think, Gyu," you answered as you returned your gaze to the movie. However, you're shocked about what's already happening on the TV. It was a fucking sex scene! Obscene sounds are coming from the speakers resonating in your living room. You gulped and shifted nervously.

"S-so you mean, you can do it?" Beomgyu dug his fingers into the pillow, his face painted with embarrassment and anticipation at the same time.

"Well..."

"Can you show it to me?" he said, cutting you off.

"W-what?" You looked at him in surprise. Why would a friend ask something like that?

"I.. I mean. I mean... Like..." he tried finding an appropriate approach.

"Are you initiating something, Choi Beomgyu?" You turned your whole body towards him. He bit his lower lip, his adams apple bobbed up and down as he gulped, swallowing the same embarrassment and sexual frustration.

"If... If you want to... I... I wanna see it.. I wanna see you," he whispered, his lips already red and swollen from how hard he was biting them.

You weighed the pros and cons in your mind first. But, yeah, who cares? You're attracted to him anyway! It's a win-win situation, right?

"I swear, if you tell a single soul about this," you warned before straddling him, grabbing his shirt, and crashing your lips on his.

He forcefully pulled the pillow from his lap away, causing you to stumble a little, desperate to feel you even in the tiniest bit. His hands landed on your waist, trying to push you down on his lap.

You pulled away, "Stop. Hands off."

He stared at you with big puppy eyes and a pout, "Y/n," he whines.

"Keep your hands off me if you want to know if it's true." Beomgyu placed his hand on his side. Trying his best not to touch you, gripping the fuzzy blanket instead, veins popping on his neck as he threw his head back. What a good day to wear sweats, he could fully feel you, and you could fully feel him hardening each second.

Beomgyu used to order you around. He's a bit bitchy and bossy. Yet he's being pliant today. So you were enjoying this, watching him crumble under you, doing anything you were saying.

You moved your hips again, making him emit a desperate moan. Calling your name like the sex-deprived man he is, "P-please... Please it hurts..." he whines again, tears threatening to spill, nails almost tearing your blanket apart. Yet you grind again, teasing him some more. "If you cum too early, you'll end up not knowing whether it's true," you taunt. So he bucks his hips up, along with loud moans and whimpers, drowning the long forgotten movie in the background, too desperate and stimulated.

"M-more..." he whispered under his breath, almost unheard if you didn't pay attention, not wanting to get ahead of himself.

You stopped your movement, making him groan and gasp. But blush crept up his pretty face when you moved down between his legs, spreading them open, kissing the tent on his sweats. He drapes his arm on his face as he throws his head back. He didn't know this would happen. He only asked if you could show him how you squirt, but he didn't expect for you to give him more.

"Y/n," he muttered, his hand muffling his mouth, "I-if you don't f-feel like it, you d-don't have to do this...."

"You don't want this, Gyu?" He looked down at you, only to throw his head back again when he saw you pouting with big round eyes.

"Fuck..." He sighed, "Can I at least hold your head?"

And you let him. You let him tangle his fingers on your hair, but he's not allowed to push you down. You let him grip on your hair, but he's not allowed to pull you back.

As you pulled his sweats down, he tried his best to look at you. But he would end up closing his eyes because he can't look at you straight in the eye.

"I won't give you a head if you don't look at me," you giggled, making him whine for the nth time.

And so he tried his best to maintain eye contact. Even when he's struggling to keep his eyes open because it feels too good. Even when he could only gasp because you're doing your best to take him whole in your mouth. He heard you gag over and over, yet he can only tangle his fingers in your hair gripping it. He wants to push you down, to fuck your pretty little mouth, to cum already, but he's waiting for your signal. He wants to be a good boy for you. He wants to be good. He wants you to praise him. He wants you to shower him with kisses later on because he was obliging to your commands.

And an idea came to your mind. You scooped out some of the melted ice cream and let it drip on his fully erect and wet cock. Beomgyu whimpers at the cold sensation.

"T-that's... Ahhh..." His voice was too shaky as he tried to form a sentence. Which he wasn't very successful in doing.

You carefully licked the melted ice cream, pushing your tongue on his slit.

"Y/n, c-can I cum? It.. ahh.. it hurts s-so much, p-please," he pleaded, drool rolling down from the corner of his lips, crying.

"Since you're too pretty, sure," you smiled sweetly, full of innocence. He lets go of your hair, placing them down on the couch, clutching on the blanket again. With one thrust in your mouth, he came undone, shooting spurts of sticky white cum inside your mouth.

Beomgyu tried catching his breath as he looked down at you. He reached for your face, pressing on each side to make you open it. He watched your tongue swirl around the pool of his cum. Beomgyu pressed his thumb on your tongue, playing with his cum. "Swallow."

With a single command, you quickly obliged, swallowing the mix of sweet and salty taste from his cum and the ice cream. This time you felt so little under him as you sat on the floor between his legs. You opened your mouth for him to check. "Good girl," he smiled as he pulled you up, making you straddle him again.

"Did you enjoy your time ordering me around, baby?" He asked, tucking your hair behind your ear. You smiled at him, nodding with a wide grin.

His hand ran lower to your chest, touching your breast, causing you to bite your lower lip.

"Tell me, why aren't you wearing a bra, hm?" He stared at you straight in the eye, raising his eyebrow, looking for a proper answer.

"I didn't know you were gonna drop by again," you pout.

"I see," he said, pinching your nipple.

"G-gyu..." you whimpered.

"Hm?" You looked away, clutching at the hem of your shirt.

Beomgyu rolls your nipples against his finger again, making you quiver.

"G-gyu!" You moaned, holding his wrist.

"What is it? Are you lost?" he chuckled, pulling your nipple.

"Ahh! Shit! Mhhmp!" you collapsed above him, hiding in his neck, whimpering and whining over and over again. You heard him let out a hearty chuckle again before wrapping his arms around your waist.

"Too much?" he asked, and you nodded as an answer. "Okay, okay, I won't do it again, remove your pajama," he whispered.

You get off of him to discard your silk pajama, before repositioning yourself on top of him again. He kissed your forehead and played a little with the band of your panties.

Aligning his tip on your clothed pussy, he tried thrusting, teasing you, and smirking at how you squirm and pout at the stimulation.

Yet when he pushed your panties to the side, he saw the sticky wetness on the cloth from your hole. "So you're ordering me around while you're being wet like this, am I right?" he grinned.

He started teasing your pussy, pushing his red tip and letting it slide away. "Aww, too bad, I think it won't fit," he pouts, still teasing you. You whined back, wanting to feel him bare.

He teased you more and more. Until you couldn't take it anymore as you rose to your knees and aligned him against your hole, forcing your way down. You ended up collapsing in his arms again. Not prepared at all as you felt a burning pain from the stretch of his fat cock.

"God fucking damn it, don't do that again, you'll end up hurting yourself," Beomgyu winces as he tries to soothe you by combing your hair and kissing your face.

"No matter how desperate you want to feel me, don't do that again, okay? I haven't even properly stretched you out yet," he whispered, rubbing your back.

"Come here," he pulled your face to give you a kiss. A kiss that washed the pain away. Tongues fighting, teeth clashing, saliva mixing. It was nasty, lewd, and filthy. Yet you love it, moaning at the feeling. Especially when Beomgyu started to thrust his hips up, slowly training you with his size.

His lips traveled down to your neck, leaving splotchy red marks and wet open-mouthed kisses in his wake. His hand fully grasped your breasts, slowly massaging them, occasionally rolling your nipples beneath his fingers, enjoying the way you moan his name in his ear as you catch your breath.

Then he pulled away, holding your waist as he started his precise and delicious thrusts.

"Deep?" he asked, tilting his head to the side with a grin. You nodded, both of your hands on his chest to keep your balance.

"How deep?" he smirked.

"H-here," you managed, pulling his hand and letting him press on your abdomen. You whimpered when he pressed harder, making you feel every curve and vein of his cock.

"Will you show me how you squirt? How did you find out you can?" he bombed you with questions, still maintaining his pace in thrusting inside your gummy walls.

"W-will show you G-gyu, will do... I ..ahh.. f-found out... One time when I t-touched myself," you started. "W-when you c-called me.. mmmph! W-with your morning voi....voice."

"You're touching yourself to my voice? Fuck, how desperate are you?" he scoffed, thrusting harder.

"W-wait! Ahh! Too m-much! Gyu!" You hid on his neck again, feeling so little and inferior.

"I-it was only one time! I.. I never did it again!" You managed to squeak out, voice muffled on his neck.

"Then let's make you squirt again, yeah?" he sneered, pulling you back by your hair as you groan at the pleasuring pain spreading through your scalp.

He lifted you up for a bit, and he started fucking your hole with a faster and rougher pace. "Squirt on my cock, squirt on my cock." He kept on repeating it over gritted teeth, adding force to every thrust.

"G-gyu, w-wait, I'm gonna cum--" Clear liquid came out gushing from your hole, pushing his cock out along with your creamy cum, soiling your couch.

"Fuck.. do it again!" His grin grew wider as he lifted you up again and thrusted even harder with greater force.

"Gyu! Gyu! Beomgyu!" You chanted his name over and over again, your toes curled and your stomach twisted at the overstimulation. Yet he kept on fucking into you.

And again, you let out a gush of clear liquid. Whole body spasming above Beomgyu. His cock twitches as he pushes his tongue against the inside of his cheek.

"T-this is dirty G-gyu," you muttered below your breath, body spent as you found support from his shoulder.

"No. I like it. This is fucking hot. Makes me wanna fuck you more," he laughs.

You eyes flicker across the room. The couch, the blanket, and the pillows were wet. The chocolate-flavored ice cream smeared on his pants.

Beomgyu slowly slides himself inside you again, thrusting more precisely, wanting to cum inside you this time. He buried his face in your neck as he pushed your hips down.

"F-fuck! Wanna fill you up!"

"P-pull out, Gyu! Please!" you pleaded, clawing his back.

Beomgyu pulls out. Hissing through his teeth, he pumped his cock a few times and ended up cumming on your tummy.

"Fuck," he pants, leaning back on the couch and pulling you to his chest.

You heard how his heart thumped so hard and how his breathing was so ragged. You buried your face in his neck, allowing your heart to calm down. And realization settled in. You just had sex with your best friend.

"If you won't still ask me to date you after today, I'll ask Kai out, I know he likes me." You muttered, feigning nonchalance.

"What the fuck? Do you want me to tell them how good I made you feel?" he taunts, tangling his fingers in your hair as he gives it a little pull, making you moan.

"See? Only I am allowed to see you like this, to make you so spent like this, understood?" he frowns.

"Only if you date me," you said as you latched your lips on his neck, leaving a mark of ownership.

"Fuck," he scoffed, touching the part where you left a mark when you pulled away.

@binniesbooks 2024

#faye's library #beomgyu's books #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu x you #beomgyu smut #choi beomgyu x reader #choi beomgyu x you #choi beomgyu smut #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu scenarios #choi beomgyu imagines #choi beomgyu scenarios #txt smut #txt imagines #txt scenarios #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts

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chvoswxtch · 6 months ago

Text

i love you

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: everything has led to this.

warnings: swearing, mentions of violence, blood, & weapons, all the angst in the world (like all of it)

word count: 6.6k

a/n: i think this is the longest chapter to date, & definitely the most jam packed. grab a snack, a blanket, some tissues, & settle in. i can't accept your therapy invoices, but i will be here to provide comfort after. :) as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

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As dozens of Billy’s men filled the expansive underground space you were in, your ears picked up on several different sounds. The click of clips being loaded into guns, the rip of velcro straps on kevlar being pried open, the hiss of steel being sharpened to a fatal point. However your brain could barely focus on any of those sounds because the only ones that registered were the murmurs of casual conversations and the easy laughter that followed crude jokes.

These men might as well have been lingering around at a bar with a drink in their hand, not gearing up to go up against one of their own. Whether they were doing it out of loyalty to Billy, or just for the impressive paycheck waiting for them, you knew some of these egotistical fucks were doing it so they could be the one to say they did the impossible; to be able to say they brought down the Punisher.

Some of their faces you recognized from working with Frank when he was your bodyguard, trading off shifts with him, and providing extra detail when needed. It was a nauseating feeling realizing the entire time you thought you were being protected from the Defenders of Freedom, you were in the presence of an even greater threat and didn’t know it. How many of these guys wouldn’t have even hesitated to flip on you for the right price and take you out themselves?

These men knew where you lived, where you worked, who you knew, where you got your fucking coffee every morning, everything about you and your routine. They were prepping to go up against Frank, but you knew not a single one of them would bat an eye if Billy gave the order to kill you once he got what he wanted. Your eyes flickered over to his tall form standing across the room, watching him bark out orders to a group of men that looked like they were buzzing with anticipation for all hell to break loose. Every single person in this room wanted Frank dead.

And it made you sick.

Your mind was still reeling from learning the truth about him, about his past and who he really was. It was like you couldn’t process it. All the pieces were there, connected into place, but your brain refused to see the picture on top. How could they be the same man?

Frank. Stubborn Frank that put up with your short fuse and shot back at your smartass remarks with his own. Thoughtful Frank that remembered your coffee order, that remembered every little thing you told him no matter how big or small, that neatly packed a bag for you full of your go to essentials and clothes when he brought you to Curtis. Sweet Frank that immediately apologized if he raised his voice too loud, that was going to sleep on the floor of a motel just to make sure you didn’t feel uncomfortable, that touched you like you were delicate glass he didn’t want to break.

Frank that had saved your life more times than you could count, and that had been by your side and protected you from everything he could for the last nine months.

That Frank, your Frank, was the same man that had been painted as a psychopath in the media for murdering thirty-seven people in cold blood.

“You still not talkin’ to me?”

Billy’s boots appeared in your line of sight, but you didn’t look up at him. After he’d forced you to put it all together, you’d completely shut down and gone silent. You weren’t even sure how long you’d been sitting in that chair still as a statue and mute while Billy and his men prepared for Frank’s arrival. While you were struggling to process the bombshell he’d dropped, one question kept popping into your head.

“Why did you give me that file?”

“Thought you’d wanna know. Seein’ as how you were such a big fan and all, writin’ all those articles praisin’ him-”

“I didn’t praise him.”

Billy seemed pleased with himself that he’d finally gotten you to look at him and speak to him. The cocky smirk that fleeted across his lips reignited a flame of resentment within you.

“You sure as hell didn’t condemn him neither.”

Clenching your jaw and setting your lips in a firm line, you looked away from Billy, glaring straight ahead. Your lack of response and attention made his smirk slip, and he let out an exhale of irritation through his nose while looking down at you.

“You know, I really thought you understood.”

Rolling your eyes in exasperation, you looked up at Billy in pinched cynicism and snapped at him.

“Understood what?”

“That things ain’t always black and white. That most things happen in that little gray area, where it gets a little messy. It ain’t always-”

“Oh shut the fuck up, William. Don’t try to preach at me to make yourself feel better about whatever shitty thing you did. I don’t wanna hear it.”

Billy’s eyes darkened at your sharp verbal lashing. He stood up a little straighter and squared his shoulders, his lips pressed together in a bitter line. He watched you turn your head and glower down at the floor as if it had personally wronged you, and he noticed how your bound hands slightly trembled from how pissed off you were. It was a complete 180 from your catatonic state five minutes earlier. He would’ve found it amusing if he wasn’t so annoyed.

Suddenly the lights went out, and the underground space went pitch black. The darkness was so opaque, you couldn’t even see your own hands when you looked down in their general direction. A murmur of confusion and irritation spread throughout Billy’s men, and the sound of guns being cocked and knives being unsheathed seemed to echo in the stillness.

Not even a minute later, there was a loud click as the emergency lights from the backup generator switched on. It took your eyes a moment to adjust to the dull light coming from the intermittently spaced fixtures. All of Billy’s men were looking between each other and the various exit points in the underground basement that were shrouded in ominous shadows. Billy shifted quickly into a more guarded stance, his eyes hard and jaw taut while turning his attention to the man standing closest to his left.

“Carson, take your men and check the breakers. Power station’s on the south side.”

“Yes sir.”

As the team of six disappeared down the hallway on the far right, Billy turned to face the remaining group of his men with a stern expression.

“Alpha team, you’re on the North exits. Bravo, you’re on the South. When Carson gets me an update on those breakers, Echo I want a rooftop visual. You know who’s coming. You know your orders.”

“Kill Castle.”

A blonde man you didn’t recognize had a cocky grin on his thin chapped lips, emphasizing his point by cocking his gun.

“He ain’t gonna hesitate to kill you.”

Some of the men exchanged glances at that statement before looking at Billy with a nod of affirmation. His dark brown eyes flickered over each of them, looking for any sign of fear or weakness.

“He does not leave here alive. You do whatever you gotta do to bring him down. Watch your six. Remember, there’s half a million waitin’ for whoever brings me the body.”

Frantically glancing between Billy and his men as they fully geared up, you gripped the arms of the chair while looking up at Billy in a mixture of incredulity and confusion. You thought Billy had brought his men in for defense. It was evident none of them had a problem killing Frank, but you assumed the whole point of their presence was to protect Billy, and to force Frank to surrender by outnumbering him so that Billy could trade for the intel. If they killed him on sight, Billy wouldn’t have any way to get what Frank found.

“I thought you said this was a trade.”

Turning his head to look down in your direction, Billy could see the clear panic on your face. There was a wicked gleam in Billy’s eyes as a sardonic smirk slowly tugged at the edge of his lips.

“Nah, sweetheart. It’s a trap.”

An icy trickle of dread cascaded down your spine rapidly and your breath hitched in your throat. Billy didn’t give a shit about what Frank had on him. He hadn’t brought him here to bargain. He’d lured him into an execution, using you as bait.

A cacophony of rapid gunfire and shouting unexpectedly echoed from the hallway on the far right that Carson’s team had disappeared down, and everyone’s heads immediately snapped in that direction. Billy’s smirk swiftly dropped from his mouth, and he quickly went rigid. But before anyone could even react, the resonation of bullets ricocheting and panicked yells abruptly stopped, and it went dead silent.

The previous arrogant attitude the remaining men had up until that moment seemed to rapidly evaporate, and their heavy breathing and wide eyed gazes betrayed their true apprehension as the reality of the situation sobered up their egos. They knew what that sound meant. They knew who it meant.

And so did Billy.

“Get to your positions.”

Billy’s dark eyes flickered over his men with a hardened glare when they didn’t move quickly enough, and his voice reverberated off the walls when he yelled.

“Now!”

Immediately, they started to disperse like scurrying ants, and the sound of their boots hitting the concrete floor in every direction echoed like claps of thunder. When you looked up at Billy again, you saw something in him you’d never seen before, something you didn’t even think he was capable of.

Fear.

At first the sound was so soft and quiet that when Billy looked down at you and saw your head tilted downwards and your shoulders faintly shaking, he thought you were crying. But when it grew louder in volume, Billy’s short lived concern turned into pure irritation as it became clear that you weren’t crying.

You were laughing.

The edge of his lips curled into a faint snarl as he lunged at you, slipping his hand into your hair to roughly yank your head backwards which earned a grunt of pain from you. Billy’s nose was barely half an inch from yours as he bent down and glared at you.

“What the hell is so funny?”

Staring him down with equal animosity, your lips slowly spread into a wide and wicked grin. Leaning in even closer to get in his face as much as he was in yours, you spoke in a harsh taunting tone laced with venom.

“You are so fucked.”

Billy stared into your eyes, seeing nothing in them but pure stubborn rage. His own lips spread into a dark smirk, and he let go of your hair to wrap his hand around your throat instead, making a point to apply just enough pressure to make you inhale sharply. He could feel the thrum of your rapid pulse against his fingers, and his breath was warm against your lips when he leaned in closer.

“Nah, that’s where you’re wrong darlin’. I got you.”

The sound of a knife being unsheathed was sharp in your ears, and the glint of a blade reflected in your eyes as Billy held the serrated steel in front of your face. Cocking his head to the side menacingly, he dragged the flat side of it down your slightly heaving chest slowly. He kept his eyes locked on yours, and you refused to look away. A crisp rip suddenly sounded, and the pressure on your wrists was gone as he cut your restraints.

“As long as I got you, I’m gettin’ outta here.”

Narrowing your eyes, you glared at Billy as he bent down to cut the restraints around your legs. When he rose to his full height, he slipped the knife back into the sheath on his hip and reached out to grab your arm tightly, tugging you up to your feet roughly.

“C’mon, you’re with me.”

When he took a step forward, you yanked your arm out of his grasp, glowering up at him as you raised your chin defiantly and spoke through your teeth.

“Pussy.”

Billy’s eyes flickered with both annoyance and amusement. He slipped his gun out of his holster and held it at his side, gesturing in your direction with his chin.

“Think I liked you better all tied up.”

“Yeah I'm sure you did.”

Ignoring your challenging stare, Billy grabbed your arm harshly again and started pushing you towards one of the exits that led down a long tunnel like hallway. The emergency backup lights lit up the path enough to navigate, but there were gaps of shadowed darkness in between them. You still had no idea exactly where you were, but it looked like some kind of abandoned warehouse or factory.

You struggled to keep up with the large stride of Billy’s long legs as he practically dragged you along with him. His eyes were focused straight ahead, his hand gripped tightly around the handle of the gun in his other hand, his index finger resting on the trigger.

“Where the hell are you taking me?”

“Be quiet.”

Your eyes flickered down to the knife in the sheath on Billy’s hip. As your gaze darted quickly between the knife and Billy’s focused face, you took advantage of his diverted attention and impulsively reached for the handle to yank it out. The force of the movement caught Billy off guard and made his grip on your arm falter for a second. Ripping your arm away from his grip, you quickly took a few steps backwards and pointed the sharp tip of the knife in his direction.

A crease formed between Billy’s dark brows as he glanced between the knife in your hand and the empty sheath on his hip before an expression of annoyed realization dawned on his sharp features. Letting out a deep exhale of irritation through his nose, Billy lifted his head and looked at you in pure vexation, clearly not feeling threatened by you in the slightest.

“Why are you so goddamn difficult? Gimme that.”

Billy held out his hand expectantly. Looking down at his outstretched palm, you lifted your gaze and glared up at him as you tightened your grip on the handle and grit through your teeth.

“No.”

Clenching his jaw in frustration, Billy took a step closer and cocked the hammer on his gun.

“Sweetheart, now ain’t the time-”

“You need me. You’re not gonna shoot me-”

Billy took another step forward and aimed his gun at your thigh, glowering down at you with a hardened look in his eyes.

“Not in the head, but if you don’t give me that goddamn knife back and stop bein’ so fuckin’ difficult, you’re gonna be crawlin’ outta here.”

Staring up into his darkened eyes, your heart was pounding in your chest. You knew Billy was serious, and it made the adrenaline induced confidence in you falter. He could see that he’d unnerved you with his threat. He took another predatory step forward and held out his hand expectantly once again.

“Now, we’re gonna do this nice and-”

“Russo!”

Both of you instantly snapped your heads towards the other side of the dark hallway shrouded in unfiltered blackness as a familiar deep voice boomed from the end of it. The volume and intensity behind the war cry seemed to rattle your bones and left you frozen in place. Billy expertly swiped the knife from your grasp in a flash, pressing the serrated blade against your throat before you could even blink. He pointed his gun towards the end of the darkened hallway, his stance rigid.

“That you, Frankie?”

The sound of heavy boots against the concrete slowly started to grow louder as they traveled down the hall in your direction. You knew who they belonged to. You’d recognize those footsteps anywhere. Your heart seemed to pound just as loudly in your ears as they got closer and closer. Swallowing thickly, the movement made the blade just barely cut into your skin, but you couldn’t even feel it from the adrenaline coursing through you. All at once, a sharp gasp escaped your lips and your eyes went wide.

A white skull spontaneously appeared in the darkness, floating through it like an apparition. As it came closer, you could see that it was worn and faded, darkened with dirt and grime, coated in several deep red streaks and splatters of fresh blood with various bullets lodged into it. A merciless and unforgiving symbol of wrath and vengeance the worst of the worst in New York had learned to fear.

Time seemed to stand still when he stepped out of the shadows, and your blood ran cold when you were face to face with the Punisher for the first time.

Frank.

His large hands were covered in blood, and his knuckles were split and bruised. Deep shades of violet were blooming on his left cheek and around a fresh cut that was bleeding on his right cheekbone. There was a small split on the bridge of his large nose, and one on the left side of his top lip. The dim light above cast menacing shadows on his bruised and bloodied face, emphasizing the storm of rage brewing in his eyes.

Frank stopped directly under the light, just a few feet away. You thought you’d seen Frank pissed before, but the way he was staring at Billy made you shudder. He was furious. The anger radiating off of him in waves was palpable.

“It didn't have to be like this, Frankie.”

Frank’s index and middle finger on his right hand twitched twice as he spoke in his gruff voice.

“It wouldn’t be if Madani hadn’t been right.”

“Surprised she trusted you at all. You were there in Kandahar, Frank. Hell, you’re the one that pulled the fuckin’ trigger on her partner. She know that?”

“I was followin’ orders. You were workin’ with Rawlins and Schoonover, sellin’ out your honor. For what, Bill? Money?”

Hearing the blatant disgust in Frank’s voice, Billy tightened his grip around the handle of the gun and the handle of the blade simultaneously.

“You shoulda just left it alone, Frankie. But you chose that bitch Madani over me.”

Frank tilted his head to the side slightly, his dark brows and face scrunched in a concoction of disappointment and anguish as he looked at Billy.

“You think I wanted to believe her, Bill? You think I wasn’t lookin’ for somethin’ to prove her wrong, huh? You think I wasn’t hopin’ to God I’d find nothin’?”

The despair laced within Frank’s rough voice killed you.

“You shoulda come to me. I was your brother, Frankie. All of this, it was unavoidable.”

Billy gestured between you and Frank with his gun before aiming it at Frank again. Frank hadn’t looked at you once. His attention was solely focused on Billy. The second those words left Billy’s mouth, you saw the way Frank’s face slowly morphed into a forlorn portrait streaked in betrayal.

“Was killin’ my family unavoidable?”

Frank’s grief stricken question felt like an electric shock. Snapping your head to look up at Billy, you watched as he visibly stiffened, his grip on both weapons faltering as his face fell slightly.

“You do it, Bill?”

Billy wouldn’t meet Frank’s eye, or yours. He dropped his gaze downwards, and what appalled you was his lack of a reaction. He didn’t look guilty. He didn’t try to deter Frank’s accusation or defend himself at all, didn’t offer any kind of correction or explanation. He was standing there quietly like Frank hadn’t just dropped a grenade of trauma between them.

“Look at me. Look at me!”

Frank’s loud voice booming once again made you flinch, and Billy finally lifted his head to look at him. Standing up straighter, Billy looked at Frank with unnerving calmness.

“I didn’t pull the trigger-”

“But you knew about it.”

Frank’s voice had been reduced to a wavering whisper. The dim light above highlighted the way his brown eyes had glossed over with treachery that threatened to spill at any second. The pain in his gaze and in his voice brought tears to your own eyes as you looked at him. Billy plastered an impassive look on his sharp features, giving a faint nod of his head and speaking with as much nonchalance as if he was discussing the weather.

“Yeah, I knew.”

Frank closed his eyes solemnly, a stray tear slipping down each of his cheeks, the clear droplets turning pastel pink as they mixed with the deep crimson stains of blood lingering on his face. Inhaling sharply, when Frank opened his eyes again, he looked away for a moment, his eyes darting back and forth rapidly as a muscle feathered in his jaw. His nostrils flared and his lips twitched as he faintly shook his head in denial and disbelief.

“She loved you. My kids loved you.”

“It was just business-”

“It wasn’t business when my kids were callin’ you ‘Uncle Billy’. It wasn’t business when Maria was makin’ sure you had somewhere to spend the holidays. It wasn’t business when I heard my family screamin’ for me. When I saw my wife and my boy…layin’ dead in the grass. When I held my baby girl in my arms, seein’ blood and meat pourin’ out of where her face should be.”

Billy’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he appeared to swallow down even the slightest flicker of remorse. Frank’s bloodied and beaten face was stoic, but his eyes gave away how distraught he was knowing that Billy had been involved in orchestrating the massacre of his family. It hadn’t been an inopportune tragedy getting caught in the middle of a shootout. It had been a premeditated execution. The bullet in Frank’s head was meant to be a killshot.

When Frank lifted his gaze and looked at Billy again, there was nothing but pure hatred left.

“No. It wasn’t just business then, Bill, and it sure as hell ain’t just business now. It’s pretty goddamn personal.”

“I never wanted this-”

“Yeah, well you got it.”

Frank’s bereavement had evaporated from the blaze of retribution that was now burning in his eyes. Billy watched as Frank physically morphed from a brokenhearted man in mourning into a vengeful memento mori right before his eyes. The reality of what Billy had done was so much worse than your wildest imagination could’ve ever conjured. It burned through the short fuse of your temper, and as a surge of adrenaline shot through your nervous system, you shoved the knife away from your throat while Billy was distracted. As soon as he turned his head in your direction, you struck your fist across his face, not even feeling the sharp pain that pierced your knuckles.

“You fucking coward.”

The unexpected impact made Billy stumble a half step backwards, dropping the knife that was in his other hand as it came up to clutch his jaw. He swiftly recovered from the hit and turned the gun on you.

“Whoa whoa whoa, easy there, killer. Let’s calm that little temper down. I’d hate to ruin that pretty face-”

Taking a step closer towards the gun aimed at your chest, you stared him down and bared your teeth in a faint snarl.

“Go ahead. It’ll be nothing compared to what he’s gonna do to yours.”

Billy visibly stiffened at your razor sharp taunt, and his eyes darkened as he stared down at you. Cocking his head to the side slightly, there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes as he suddenly chuckled darkly at your fearless rage.

“Goddamn, Frankie. She this feisty in bed?”

“The hell are you doin’?”

At first you didn’t realize that Frank was talking to you. In the midst of your unfiltered anger, you were still glaring up at Billy. It wasn’t until Frank called your name in a harsh reprimand that you turned to look at him and saw that he was finally looking at you. A flash of confusion interrupted your adrenaline induced wrath noticing that his anger seemed to now be directed at you instead of Billy.

“What?”

“I said what the hell are you doin’? He’s got a goddamn gun, Y/N-”

“Yeah I can see that, it’s pointed at my fucking face.”

Frank clenched his jaw when you snapped at him with equal frustration. He let out a puff of air through his lips and shook his head as he glanced around in pure irritation.

“For Christ’s sake, you never fuckin’ listen, do ya? You’re always runnin’ your goddamn mouth instead of doin’ what you’re told. What’d I say, huh?”

A look of raw hurt and puzzled betrayal crossed your face when Frank yelled at you. You were taken aback by the hostility in his gaze and in his voice. He was staring you down in a way that almost made you shudder.

“I told you keep your distance, yeah? I said stay offline. But you just push, you can’t ever let go of that need for control, can you? And now look at you, underneath all this shit, got your panties all in a fuckin’ twist. You never hesitate, do ya? Just like that day in the cabin.”

Frank’s angry tirade sent such an unexpected shock through you, it took you a moment to register what he was actually saying, but the mention of the cabin abruptly made it click and a light bulb seemed to go off when you realized what Frank was doing.

Distance. Offline. Push. Control. Underneath. Twist. Never hesitate.

“You always aim for my goddamn nerves.”

Frank roughly smacked his palm against his own shoulder in what looked like a display of frustration, but you understood what it really meant.

“Just do what I said. You got that?”

He stared at you with a look in his eyes only you could decipher, a silent communication passing between the two of you, and you steeled your expression as you swallowed thickly and gave him a subtle but imperceptible nod.

“Yeah. I got it.”

“Show me.”

Billy had been looking between you and Frank, amused by your little lover's quarrel. Frank’s final words made his dark brows furrow in curiosity, and when he turned his head to look at him, you quickly surged forward and gripped the barrel of the gun in your left hand, pushing it away from you and slipping your right hand under Billy’s wrist. Twisting the barrel forcefully to the right, Billy grunted as his wrist unexpectedly twisted with it forcing his grip to loosen. The second you pulled it away from his grasp and stepped back, he lunged forward, and you fired a shot right at his shoulder.

“Fuck!”

Billy’s back collided with the wall behind him when the bullet ripped through his right shoulder, his hand immediately coming up to apply pressure. Before the shock of what you’d just done could even register, Frank rushed forward and nearly tackled you as he wrapped his arms around your frame and forced you forward into a sprint. He dragged you down another hallway, and by the time you finally stopped running, your lungs were burning and your hands were trembling.

Frank grabbed you by your shoulders, ducking his head to capture your frantic gaze.

“Listen to me, I need you to run.”

Staring up at him wide eyed, a crease of confusion nestled between your brows.

“What?”

“Madani’s waitin’ outside, Homeland’s got the place surrounded. Take this hallway all the way down. You run, and you don’t look back for nothin’, you got that?”

Your eyes darted back and forth between Frank’s rapidly. Your brain was still trying to process everything that had just happened, but the thought of leaving Frank seemed to snap you out of your shock. A stubborn look of refusal contorted your features as you looked up at him.

“Wha-no. No, I’m not leaving you-”

Frank cupped your face in his large hands and stared down into your eyes with a pleading expression.

“Hey…hey, listen to me sweetheart, listen. I gotta finish this. I can’t…I can’t let it go.”

Frank paused as he swallowed thickly and looked down at you, a sheen of remorse shining in his apologetic expression. His next words felt like a shot to the chest.

“And you can’t stay. You gotta go, you gotta walk away.”

The second those words left his lips, it felt like the breath had been knocked out of your lungs. You immediately started to shake your head in refusal.

“Frank-”

“Go, now.”

“Frank, don’t do this-”

Frank leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, and you hated how much it felt like a goodbye. When he pulled back, he looked down at you with a tender expression and somber swirls in his warm brown eyes. His voice was the softest you’d ever heard it when he traced his thumb over your cheekbone gently.

“I love you, you got that? I love you, but you gotta walk away.”

Tears immediately sprang in your eyes as you slowly shook your head and begged him in a desperate whisper.

“Frank please-”

“Hey, shh shh shh.”

He leaned in and pressed his lips against your forehead in a delicate show of affection, allowing them to linger for a moment before he let go and took a step backwards.

“You gotta do this for me, baby. Please. Please, just this once, do what I ask.”

As soon as he stepped backwards, you stepped forwards and instinctively reached for his hand, gripping onto it tightly. Tears slipped past your bottom lash line while you looked up at him with raw emotion in your eyes, silently begging him not to go.

“Go.”

Frank spoke in a gentle voice, giving your hand a faint squeeze before pulling his away, the blood that had been on his hand now staining yours. Without another word or glance, he turned to walk away, determined to find Billy and finish this. All you could do was watch him disappear, standing right where he left you, feeling like you’d just been shattered into a thousand helpless pieces.

With tears streaming down your face, you could feel panic start to rise in your chest. Turning to look down at the other end of the hallway, your fight or flight seemed to kick in and you started to run frantically. Just as you rounded one of the corners, one of Billy’s men popped out, drawing his rifle on you. Quickly you aimed the gun in your hand back at him, but before either of you could shoot, something suddenly flew out of nowhere and knocked the guy out.

He dropped to the ground with a thud, and you whirled around to aim the gun in your hands towards the shadow it had come from. Your breathing was ragged, and your hands were shaking as you gripped the handle until your knuckles turned stark white. A deep voice suddenly sounded from the darkness.

“Easy, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

Soft footsteps approached, and out of the dark shadows, a pair of dark red horns glinted under the light.

Daredevil.

Your eyes widened as he came into the light, his gloved hands help up in a show of surrender. You were completely stunned as he took cautious steps forward until he was in front of you, reaching out with one hand to gently place it on top of the barrel of the gun, slowly lowering it down.

“Go all the way towards the end of the hall. There’s an exit on your right.”

A look of confusion crossed your features as you glanced down the darkened hallway before looking back up at him. He’d come from an entirely different direction.

“How do you-”

“Just trust me.”

Staring up into the dark lenses of his cowl, you turned your head to look back in the direction of where you’d just run from, where Frank had disappeared. All at once, the gravity of the situation felt too heavy, and you almost buckled under it.

“I…I can’t. I can’t.”

“You need to leave-”

“I can’t leave him.”

Hearing how panicked your breathing was starting to become, he stepped forward, gently grabbing your shoulders to get your attention, and you looked up at him in blurry hopelessness.

“Listen to me, I'm not gonna let anything happen to him, alright? I promise.”

You couldn’t move. The daunting possibility of losing Frank was overwhelming. This whole thing felt like a devastating nightmare you desperately wanted to wake up from. Feeling your hesitation, Daredevil gently squeezed your shoulders again and spoke in an even softer voice.

“Y/N, Frank asked me to help keep you safe. Please let me do that.”

The way he said your name ignited a spark of recognition in your head, and it had a calming effect. You knew that voice. You’d heard it before. Something about him seemed…familiar, and not just because you’d covered articles about the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. Something about the way he said Frank’s name sounded familiar too. Letting your eyes wander over his figure in the red and black suit, the gears started turning in your head as you studied the bottom half of his face that wasn’t covered.

“Say his name again.”

“What?”

“Just say it.”

Even with half of his face covered, you could tell that he was clearly puzzled by your request.

“Frank.”

Immediately, it hit you like a bolt of lightning. Your eyes widened as you stared up at him in shock, a breathless whisper of his name leaving your lips in disbelief.

“Matt?”

His plump lips parted, and he pulled back as he stood up straight, tilting his head to the side slightly. Before he could stammer out a response, he abruptly turned his to the left, and he dropped his hands from your shoulders.

“There's seven heavily armed men coming this way.”

Turning your head, you stared down the darkened hallway he was looking at in puzzlement. You couldn’t see or hear anything. Looking back up at him, you blinked a few times before tilting your head to the side and staring up at him in complete bewilderment.

“What? How the fuck do you-”

“It’s complicated.”

“Like being a blind lawyer but also Daredevil.”

Matt pursed his lips at your dry tone and sass. He took a step away from you and bent down to pick up the baton up off the floor next to the unconscious man.

“Down the hall. Exit on the right. Go.”

Watching him pull out another baton, you threw your hands up in exasperation, still gripping onto the gun in your hand.

“And what the hell are you gonna do? You said there’s heavily armed men coming and you’re gonna, what? Throw your sticks at them?”

Matt cocked his head to the side as he glanced in your direction, slightly amused by your irritated skepticism.

“They’re batons.”

“Oh, excuse me. Batons. You’re gonna throw your batons at the group of ex-special forces coming this way with automatic weapons.”

A cocky smirk stretched across his lips at your dry sarcasm, and he started to walk backwards.

“Have a little faith, sweetheart.”

When he took off running down the hall, you ran your hand stressfully through your hair, glancing around in complete disbelief. Your boyfriend was the Punisher. Your lawyer was Daredevil. And you were at your wit’s fucking end.

“What the fuck is going on.”

The second you pushed the door open to the exit that led outside, a blinding flash of light had you bringing your hands up to your face, including the one still holding the gun. A swarm of agents wearing protective gear and aiming guns in your direction swiftly rushed towards you, yelling out orders that had you freezing.

“Drop the weapon! Drop it now!”

In a panic, you quickly dropped the gun and held your hands up in surrender. There were police cars, S.W.A.T. trucks, helicopters floating above, and dozens upon dozens of various officers and agents surrounding the area. They were yelling at you to get down on the ground, and you were glancing between all of them anxiously, feeling like you were about to start hyperventilating as you tried to stutter out an explanation.

Before you could get your limbs to work again and comply, a familiar voice carried over the aggressive demands.

“Stand down, now!”

Madani forcefully broke through the line of agents that had you surrounded, shoving her gun into the holster on her hip as she all but ran over towards you. Her brown eyes scanned over you intensely, quickly assessing for any sign of damage or injury.

“What happened? Is Billy still in there? Where’s Frank?”

“I…I shot him.”

A crease of perplexity formed between Madani’s dark brows hearing your shaky response.

“What? You shot who?”

“Billy.”

Madani arched one of her dark brows in surprise, and what looked like a hint of pride. She took a step closer, lowering her voice.

“Is he dead?”

The anxiety coursing through your system was cresting, threatening to crash over you and trap you beneath the tide. The adrenaline was starting to wear off, and you were shaking uncontrollably.

“I don’t…I don’t know.”

Madani reached out to grab your arms, giving them a reassuring squeeze as she attempted to keep you calm while she looked at you.

“Y/N, where’s Frank?”

“He-”

All at once you froze. Madani felt you freeze up, and her brown eyes were darting back and forth between your own rapidly for an answer when she saw your eyes go wide with recognition and shock. She called your name again, but it was muffled in your ears and distant, like your head was underwater. A shaky whisper slipped past your lips as they parted.

“I didn't say it back.”

Madani was watching you intently, trying desperately to figure out what was going on and what had happened.

“Didn’t say what back? What are you talking about?”

In an instant, your eyes welled up with thick tears that turned Madani into a blurry silhouette, and you gripped onto her as though someone had punched a hole through your chest and ripped your heart right out. A choked sob caught in your throat when the gravity of what you had missed hit you with enough force to send a crack through your soul.

“I didn’t say it back, Dinah.”

Turning your head to look back at the abandoned factory behind you, the burden of your mistake fractured your rib cage, and a tide of agony and regret burst through the broken pieces like a wrathful flood. Madani caught you in her arms as you collapsed against her, pulling you into her chest when you succumbed to the grief and completely broke down in tears, letting out a wail of his name that tore through your throat and left it raw.

Frank had told you he loved you, and you didn’t say it back.

You didn’t know if you’d ever get the chance to.

tags: @thyme-in-a-bubble @day-dreaming-goddess @messymissy @itwasthereaminuteago @strawberry1042 @queenofthenoobs @wanda2themax @xcastawayherosx @avengerstower-houseplant @stevenknightmarc @ponyosmom35 @babygal-babygal @wellwwhynot @oldermenaremyreligion @combustiblemeow @tired-night-owl @fairykiss32 @danzer8705 @calkissed @fxckahs-blog @lemon-world1 @polskiperson @imperihoe @v4leoftears @harperdoodle @spideyvibez @joalslibrary @cherry-berry-ollie @sorrowfulfragmentation @kdogreads @sumo-b98 @blackhawksfanatic @gloryekaterina @whistle1whistle @starbritestarlite @callmebrooklynbabes @hallway5 @scarletfvckingwitch @bifuriouslatina @soupyspence @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @wonwoosthetic @linguist-breakaribecca @nerdytreeflower @mrs-bellingham @smhnxdiii @s3riou2 @slavic-empress

#frank castle #frank castle x you #frank castle x y/n #frank castle x reader #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x fem!reader #frank castle x f!reader #frank castle fic #frank castle series #the bodyguard series #bodyguard!frank castle fic #bodyguard!frank castle series #bodyguard!frank castle x reader #the punisher #the punisher fic #the punisher series

571 notes · View notes

xshadowdelta · 6 months ago

Text

Former Manager

Part 2: Eyes on Me.

Kwon Eunbi x Male Reader (4.5K Length)

Your return to Korea was not turning out as you expected. Before your return, thousands, no, millions of possibilities and different scenarios had passed through your mind, some of them where you were benefited, and in others you were terribly harmed. However, you would not have imagined the current situation even if you had lived multiple lives.

Your brain hadn't stopped spinning since that “lunch” with Yuri in your office at noon. There were times when you seriously thought about taking the next plane and disappearing from that country forever, never to return. On other occasions, you told yourself that it wasn't a big deal, a simple mistake that wouldn't be repeated, and you would see reason with Yuri next time, without a doubt.

Your thoughts continued to torture you in the middle of the night, and before you knew it, you had reached your destination. You parked the car in front of the building whose address the GPS indicated, and you climbed the stairs of that apartment complex, stopping in front of one of the doors.

You looked down at the bag full of food and drinks that you were carrying in your hand, paying special attention to the soju bottles that stood out a little bit. A long sigh came from the top of your lungs. You relaxed your shoulders and pressed the house bell. “This is going to be a long night.” You still didn't know how true that thought was going to be.

"Who is it?" A voice on the other side of the intercom asked.

“There’s a camera right here.” You answered, bringing your face closer. “I didn't change that much over these years, noona.” You heard a giggle before the sound of the door opening.

You swallowed hard as you saw her standing there in front of you, offering you a smile, the same one as years ago, with no changes, along with those eyes that looked at you with a special shine.

She took a step towards you and wrapped her arms around your body in a warm, welcoming hug, which you reciprocated only with your left arm, as the other one was still carrying the food bag.

“It's been a while.” Eunbi said this when she got separated from you. “You've even grown a little bit.”

“Yes, that's right…you're still the same.” You replied with a smile, annoying her, so she gave you a small playful punch on the shoulder.

“I'll take this, go ahead, the girls are already here.” She commented, taking the bag from your hand. You felt your hands brush against each other during the exchange.

You took off your shoes and walked behind her into the house, following and scanning her quickly. She was wearing a small top that highlighted her huge and magnificent breasts. Damn, you could swear she wasn't even wearing a bra. And a pajama pants that were quite short by your standards, leaving her thighs on display.

You mentally scolded yourself, this was not like you. Although it was not a crime to think that way about Eunbi, she was already a grown woman, really attractive as everyone in the country already knew, not for nothing sometimes she was trending.

“Girls! Guess who is here.” Eunbi announced as she entered the room, when you appeared behind her, you were greeted by numerous screams from feminine voices.

“The stripper has arrived!”

You let out an ironic laugh, looking at the author of that phrase and listening to how the other girls scolded her for saying something like that, to which she just shrugged her shoulders, sticking her tongue out.

“You don't change, right? Choi Yena.” You approached to greet the soloist, but someone got in your way.

“Don't move a muscle, I'm going first!” Exclaimed a girl with bangs and black hair standing in front of you with both arms outstretched, blocking your way.

“Always so indulged, Kim Chaewon.” You smiled as you hugged the leader of Lesserafim.

“You should start acting like a leader, unnie.” Yuri mocked her, sitting on the floor, eating some snacks.

Your gaze was directed at her, briefly remembering your previous meeting. Seeing you like this, she winked at you playfully. She wanted to upset you, but you had to be cautious or everyone would know that something weird was happening. Luckily for you, no one seemed to appreciate this little detail, and they continued with the discussion.

“This is an Iz*One reunion, I'm not a leader here.” She responded sulkily, crossing her arms.

“But you're still part of the unnie line, and you're not a baby anymore.” A third girl joined in to continue teasing Chaewon, you would recognize Lee Chaeyeon's thunderous laughter from miles away, whom you greeted with another hug, and finally Yena as well.

You could tell that not all of them were going to be present at this mini reunion, it was obvious because finding a space of free time for 12 such successful girls seemed impossible, that's why every time they met it was in small groups.

Nako and Hitomi had their jobs in Japan and were the most difficult to meet with the others, but this time Minju was busy filming a new drama while Yujin and Wonyoung were working overseas due to IVE's schedules.

You were chatting in the living room for a long time with them, catching up on your new job, and they were also telling you about their future projects and albums. Yena and Chaeyeon would have a couple of performances at some festivals in the upcoming weeks and Chaewon was in the middle of release a new comeback with her new group, which she was talking to you about, showing you photos and videos of her new members.

“He already knows me, I hope so.” You turned to face the owner of that voice. Sakura came out of the kitchen carrying some plates of food in her hands. Next to her, Eunbi and Hyewon helped carry the rest of the food and place it on the table.

“I'm glad to see you again, Kkura, you too, Hyewon.” The last one gave you a shy smile and a slight bow with her head, quickly putting her hands to her hair, pretending that she was caressing it up, when in reality there was no damage.

"It's time for the party to start!" Yena exclaimed, clearly excited, hurriedly grabbing a bottle of beer and pouring herself a glass. God, this was going to be absolute chaos.

You sat at the table, with Hyewon on your right, out of the corner of your eye you saw her holding a bottle of soju in your direction, you took your glass and brought it closer to her.

“Thank you so much, Hyewon.” You offered her a smile, which made her even more nervous. The bottle shook in her hands, but she was able to serve you without much problem.

“Oppa, now that you're back in Korea, we can play League of Legends again, right?” She asked, putting the bottle back on the table.

“OH!” Sakura exclaimed, joining your conversation. “I can't climb from silver, I need your help, Oppa!” You found her whining cute.

“Oppa, you have to come see my waterbomb performance, I'm going to do my best!” That was Chaeyeon demanding your attention. “Unnie, give me some advice.” That was directed at Eunbi.

The oldest member placed one of her fingers on her chin thoughtfully. What could be the best advice she could give her?

“Get a surgery to grow your breasts.” Yena mocked, causing a blush to appear on her leader's cheeks

“YAH CHOI YENA!” She screamed, offended, covering her chest with her arms.

"Don't try to hide it, unnie, you have your weapons, and you have known how to take advantage of them, we are not going to judge you for it, and if now you can invite us to these dinners, it's even better."

“Even so, it is too embarrassing and stressful that they are sexualizing you all day and discrediting my work just because of my body.” Eunbi complained, taking a sip of beer and angrily placing it on the table, causing a loud bang. “Damn press.”

“What do you think Oppa, Eunbi unnie's breasts are very pretty, right?”

You almost choked on the drink you were taking at that precise moment. That question caught you completely off guard, and the shock made you start coughing loudly.

“YENA!”

Dinner finally passed between talks, anecdotes, shouts and lots of laughter. There seemed to be no end to the beer and soju bottles, you were surprised how well most of them held up to the alcohol.

“Let's make a toast.” Chaeyeon proposed, standing up with her glass in her hand, and the rest of you quickly followed her example. Eunbi cleared her throat before giving the signal.

“Eyes on me!…” Everyone waited for the next sentence, but it never came since Wonyoung was not there to recite it. They laughed quietly, but their looks immediately turned sad.

“Manager-nim, tonight you are our guest, say a few words, please.” Eunbi invited you, trying to relieve the tension of the moment.

“Oh, yes.” You waited a few seconds while you looked for the right words, and when you had done it, you raised your glass.

“I couldn't be more proud of each of you, even knowing how really annoying you can be sometimes.” Some laughter was heard. “You deserve all the successes, past and future.”

The sound of glass colliding together preceded some sobbing. Sakura tried to wipe the tears that were coming from her eyes while Chaeyeon and Chaewon hugged her, also crying. Eunbi and Hyewon could control their emotions even in this situation, and on the other hand, Yuri and Yena tried to liven up the night again.

“No, no, no, no sadness, goodbye sadness, Yuri turn up the music.” Yena ordered, and Yuri instantly approached the stereo, turning it on and playing some songs that would change that atmosphere.

Hours passed, and just like that, the party was slowly coming to an end. One by one, the members were leaving Eunbi's apartment. The next day you had a free day, but the idols didn't, so with a lot of alcohol and food in their bodies added to a jumble of emotions, they had to go looking for a little rest before returning to the job.

You stayed, although, for a while longer, to help Eunbi pick up all the trash that was now flooding the living room of her house. Even now, you were helping with the dirty dishes.

“You really didn't need to help me, but thank you.” She commented, throwing the last remains of food into a garbage bag.

“Don't worry, I'm used to it.” You replied by leaving a new clean plate on the tray.

She walked to your side and, with a small jump, sat on the kitchen counter watching how you were washing the dishes. You looked at her strangely but quickly turned your gaze, embarrassed, back to the dishes, from that height her chest were the first thing that entered on your line of vision. Eunbi noticed this and laughed, covering her mouth with her hand.

“You are so cute.” The blush on your face had already spread to your ears.

When you cleaned the last plate you stopped the faucet and the sound of water went away, you took a cloth to dry your wet hands and turned to face Eunbi again.

"You didn't answer Yena's question." She was the first to break the silence, staring at the kitchen ceiling and her dangling legs swinging back and forth in the air. You raised an eyebrow in confusion, and she looked back at you.

She moved forward a little, joining her arms to her body, making her breasts come together and protrude a bit above her cleavage, a mischievous smile adorning her face.

“About my breasts, do you like them?”

You felt your mouth go completely dry, you tried not to look directly at her tits, but it was practically an impossible mission, your neck was completely rigid, resigned to moving in another direction.

You had seen videos of Eunbi's performances from previous years in some important events, specifically the one in which she ended up with her shirt soaked, and her inner bra could be seen, and it was the outcome of that spiral of success that she obtained.

“Eunbi, this is not…” You were silenced or rather crushed by Eunbi's boobs, she was quick to grab the back of your head and bring it closer to sink it between those two glorious mounds.

Now you felt like you were short of breath, in every way. You tried to squirm looking for a way out, but that only caused Eunbi to moan with pleasure as she felt your face rubbing against her tits.

She released you from her grip and, startled, you took a couple of steps back, looking at her in shock and surprise.

“It's the first time you've called me, noona, before at the door.” Her voice was soft, and her cheeks were red.

“I didn't think it was professional to refer to you like that when we were working together.” You were trying to regain your composure.

She brought her hands up to her own breasts, grabbing and squeezing them in front of you, lifting her shirt to show them to you, and as you previously assumed she wasn't wearing a bra.

If this had been an animated TV show, streams of blood would be gushing out of your nose right now. Against your will, an erection was beginning to appear under your pants, she noticed this detail.

“It's too late now, why don't you let noona take care of you tonight?”

“Fuck, Eunbi noona, this is not right at all.”

“Looks like your big little friend doesn't think the same.” She smiled mischievously again, biting one of her nails, watching your erection.

You then cursed your hormones, your sexual instinct, and your entire body for having sent that large amount of blood to your penis. You were still hesitant, but your feet were already walking towards her again.

“You're a good boy.” She whispered when she had you right in front of her, wrapping her arms around your neck, looking deeply into your eyes. “It always has been.”

Her head moved over yours, joining your lips in a soft, warm kiss, a warmth that was soon replaced by passion and lust.

You leaned forward, resting your hands on the kitchen counter, one on each side of her body. Her hands caressed the back of your hair, messing it up completely. Your lips joined together relentlessly until you had to stop for a few seconds to breathe.

Still united by a thread of saliva that ran from your mouth to hers, Eunbi gave you a quick kiss making it disappear, uniting your foreheads piercing you with that lustful look that her eyes had adapted, both of you panting exhausted on the other's mouth.

"Why?" You dared to ask.

“Do you know how many men have tried to flirt with me in the last few years?” You frowned at her question, she caressed your cheek with one of her hands. “Exactly, it's just disgusting.”

“You, on the other hand, from the first day we met, have been so kind and nice to me and to all the girls, so cute, like that time you came into the bathroom while I was changing, you apologized a thousand times.” She laughed, kissing your cheek.

“Noona, I'm not even that good, just look at me, I couldn't resist even half a minute” Your words made her laugh.

“I didn't expect you to do it, I'm irresistible, don't you think?”

You smiled sideways ironically, defeated for having lost that game against her, you opened your mouth to respond but this time you were interrupted.

“Don't say anything, just please, fuck me.” Her voice, her look, everything about her was begging for you.

Your hands grabbed her hips and began to caress every part of free skin that was around her belly area, a sigh escaped Eunbi's mouth and your lips approached hers.

“I guess, I don't have a choice.” You whispered, ending the distance between your lips. This time the kiss wasn't soft or slow, it was needy and passionate. Your tongues rolled around each other inside your mouths, fighting shamelessly.

She broke away briefly to nimbly remove her top garment, grabbed your hands and placed them on her bare tits. Just with that first touch you realized how soft and firm they were and without a doubt, the biggest you had ever touched before.

“Go ahead, don't be afraid, play with them as much as you want.” She murmured with a soft laugh giving you permission.

You began to caress both breasts at the same time, she put her hands under your shirt, caressing the area of your exercised abdomen.

You noticed how her nipples became hard under your hands, giving them a little squeeze making her moan, you leaned your head towards her neck planting a few kisses.

“Fuck, you’re good.” She gasped as your tongue licked and ran along the length of his neck.

You lowered your head towards her boobs, grabbing one with your hand to put it directly into your mouth, sucking on it. After a few seconds you did the same with her other boob, Eunbi's hands continued caressing your head, crushing you against her breasts.

Your tongue moved in circles around the areolas of her nipples, giving them a few licks, raising goosebumps on her skin and making her moan audibly. You went back to sucking on her breasts for a short while longer, thinking that you wouldn't mind continuing doing this for the rest of your life.

Once her breasts were completely wet and covered in saliva, you suddenly attacked the area of her neck again. The way Eunbi kept moaning, this time just a foot away from your ear, was making you hornier, enough to move a naughty hand towards her crotch.

A high-pitched squeal of surprise escaped the idol's mouth as she felt your hand touching her pussy over her lower garment.

Your lips kissed her shoulders and collarbone when your hand began to move in circular motions over her pussy, noticing something.

“No bra and no panties, anyone would think you had it all planned, noona.” You murmured without stopping the kisses.

“It's much more comfortable.” She moaned. “For be at home.” She explained while moving her legs against the hand that was between them because of excitement.

You grabbed her hips to help her lift her butt a little and be able to lower those pajama pants until they touched her feet, hanging there. Once again, you resumed the task of caressing her pussy, now naked and incredibly wet, increasing the sound of the woman's moans.

You caressed her thighs with both hands and even with her sitting on the kitchen counter you crouched down until your face was at the level of her pussy, you looked up to look at Eunbi to ask her permission to continue but the way she was looking at you, made you knew that you didn't even have to ask.

You quickly buried your head against her pussy, hungrily licking everything you could reach, making her scream in pleasure.

Your tongue moved uncontrollably, licking the folds of her wet pussy, which was getting wetter by the second, mixing her vaginal juices with your saliva, falling in a river across the kitchen cabinet.

“Keep eating me like that, please, eat all that greedy pussy.” Eunbi demanded with a desperate tone.

Accepting her request without question, you continued licking her, sometimes giving your tongue a break by replacing it with a pair of fingers, masturbating her. Your tongue took over again, ready to take it to the next level, licking her clit causing Eunbi to scream louder, grabbing herself onto the counter and closing her legs, locking your head between them.

You placed both hands on the sides of her legs, applying soft caresses trying to calm her down while continuing to punish her clitoris, feeling how she really had little left to reach orgasm.

You left between her legs, standing up, kissing her lips again while you lowered your pants, which along with your boxers fell to the floor, releasing your 100% erect penis.

“I have birth control pills in my bedroom, everything will be fine.” Eunbi said, almost reading your mind because you obviously didn't have any condoms with you at that moment.

She spread her legs for you, parting her folds with her fingers, allowing you to enter her. Your cock rubbed against her fingers as you introduced it into her pussy, giving you an incredible sensation. You both gasped when your tip was inside her.

Carefully and slowly, you introduced the rest of your penis inch by inch until it was completely inside her, filling her with your cock. You grabbed her hips and she put her arms around your neck, you looked at each other, both smiling, she closed her eyes enjoying that sensation.

You withdrew most of your penis until only your tip remained inside her, and with a quick and strong movement of your hips, you reintroduced the entire length directly into her womb.

You continued doing it this way, slow and erotic, increasing the pace as time went by, when your bodies wanting much more. But Eunbi still had aftereffects from your previous great oral job, and you could notice how the walls of her pussy were contracted against your cock.

“Shit! Manager-nim, I'm so fucking close.” She whimpered against your lips. You interpreted those words perfectly, a clear warning that she wanted to cum.

Your pushes then became rough and ferocious, your lips were unable to silence Eunbi's moans, and her entire body began to shake without restraint, feeling the force of your attacks.

"Fuck! “I’m going to cum all over your cock!” She screamed excitedly, curving her body as she reached the climax, covering your manhood with her juices. She fell on your chest, hugging you, totally agitated, trying to catch some air.

You caressed her back with your penis still inside her, then grabbed her body and, in a show of strength, lifted her up off the kitchen counter. Surprised, Eunbi clung to you, and you hold her butt preventing both of you from going to the ground.

“Wait, I just came and…” She said but was unable to finish because your hips moved again causing your cock to mercilessly enter and exit her recently cummed pussy again.

"FUCK!" She exclaimed, throwing her head back in ecstasy, you surrounded her waist with your arms, pressing her as close as possible to your body, only separated by her breasts crushed against your chest.

You were pouring lust from your pores, your bodies were beginning to be sweaty and the smell of sex permeated the entire kitchen. Eunbi looked down at your sexes, watching as they came together again and again, watching as your entire cock disappeared into her pussy.

Witnessing that made her even hornier, and she threatened to cum again, but she managed to hold back. However, you had another idea in mind. Your hand spanked one of Eunbi's buttocks, making her gasp, and then your mouth reached one of her tits to suck it really hard.

The sperm began to accumulate at the tip of your penis, wanting to be discharged, something that happened after a few more thrusts, spilling everything inside Eunbi's pussy who, when she felt the hot liquid filling her, she gave in and came again.

After resting for a while, holding each other and exhausted, you managed to walk, carrying her to the bedroom. Once there, you lay her face up on the bed, and you removed your penis from inside her, causing a lot of your cum to come out of her vagina.

You thought it was all over, but the woman's look said the opposite. Even with signs of having shed tears, her eyes continued to glimpse an uncontrollable sexual appetite. She smiled mischievously, opening her legs completely, allowing you to see how her pussy continued pumping agitatedly covered in cum, was this girl insatiable?

But you weren't far behind, because that sight had made your manhood regain all its vigor, so that you didn't think about anything other than entering into her again, all at once with a strong thrust.

"God yes, it's that simple!" Eunbi watched you place your hands on her thighs, preventing her from closing her legs. From that position, she could perfectly see the way you buried your cock into her relentlessly.

Inside her, it felt slimy and sticky due to the previous load you had given her, this caused each insertion of your penis to make watery sounds that drove you crazy.

You bent down, practically laying on top of her, to french kiss her while squeezing her boobs with both of your hands. You had a sudden idea and pulled your cock out of her pussy, without paying much attention to her complaints about it.

You climbed onto the bed, placing each of your knees next to her body, and then inserting your penis between her tits.

Eunbi's hands grabbed each of her own tits from the sides, squeezing them to crush your cock against them and later swing them up and down, masturbating you in this way.

You were enjoying that titfuck so much, but your body was asking for more. You began to move your hips to the rhythm of Eunbi's tits. At this point your cock was getting very close to her lips with each coming and going, she noticed this and stuck out her tongue, licking your tip every time you reached it.

You moaned at how good that act was making you feel, feeling like you were about to explode.

“Noona, can I cum over your tits?” You asked with your eyes closed in pleasure.

She smiled tenderly, raising one of her hands to caress your cheek. You opened your eyes to see her again.

“Of course, baby, cover mommy’s boobs with your delicious cum.”

Those words were the trigger you needed, you grabbed your cock with your hand and after a couple of strokes you let out streams of semen that ended up on her tits, and part of her neck and chin.

She watched with her bright eyes as you unloaded on her mounds, reacting quickly to not waste any time and lick her own breasts, tasting the sperm that had spread.

With a tired sigh you lay down on the bed, and immediately Eunbi approached you, passing one of her arms around your chest, you instead surrounded her back with yours, bringing her closer to you to give her one last kiss on the lips.

“So…I'm better than Yuri?” She asked, breaking the silence, making your eyes open in surprise.

"What!? I mean…how you know that?” Your body tensed at that moment.

“Oh, that silly girl, she started bragging about it as soon as she saw me tonight, did she think she could beat her leader?”

“I can explain it…”

"No need, I'm not the one to judge what two adults do with their lives, let alone after tonight.”

She got out of bed and walked towards the bathroom under your watchful eye, she stopped in the doorway and turned to face you.

“Will you join me in the shower?” She asked, slapping herself on the butt and disappearing into the room. Like a flash you stood up and took off the rest of your clothes before following her, you were right, this night was going to be a long one.

#kpop smut #male reader #smut #izone smut #kwon eunbi smut #eunbi smut

1K notes · View notes

jinxificada · 7 months ago

Text

friendly sleepover

bf!jinx x bf!reader

summary: in the nature of your friendship, neck kisses are just the smallest of love expression.

notes: nsfw, modern au. wc 2k. no proofread bc if i do i wouldn’t even publish it 😆😆🫶🏼 enjoy

🃜🃚🃖🃁🂭🂺

jinx opened the door as soon as she heard your knocking. she welcomed you with messy hair and the smudged makeup she's been wearing all day.

"finally!" she pulled your hand, quickly guiding you to her room. "i was starting to think you were going to stand me up!" she dramatized, helping you strip off your backpack. it was late at night, almost 10pm, when you were supposed to arrive at about 8:30.

"sorry! i messaged you but i didn't have any service." you excused yourself as you made yourself comfortable in the familiar place. the dark gray walls filled with graffiti and metal bands posters gave you a sense of comfort, a sharp contrast to the intimidation from the first time you had come over. "i missed the bus and had to wait for the next one. but i brought the snacks!"

"excuses, excuses." she muttered playfully, throwing herself on her half-made bed, lots of pillows and blankets already occupying 70% of the space. "ok, i believe you. but you better have brought those gummy candies i asked for, though!"

you only hummed, barging in your backpack to find two small bags. you throw at her the gummies, followed by a couple of other snacks. jinx snickered, mouth soon full of sweets as you stripped off your street clothes. her eyes lingered on your form until you hid it with an oversized shirt you usually bring to sleep in. you didn't mind putting on shorts like her, being a hot summer night.

you sighed as you crawled into the bed, laying next to her. "i wanna watch a movie." jinx rolled her eyes, yawning while handing you the remote of the mid sized tv she luckily had in her bedroom. "stop yawning! don't you dare to fall asleep." you threatened with a frown.

"how could i? i'm way too excited to do anything with you." she intended to tease you, but it came out more suggestive than she anticipated. she mentally facepalmed herself, quickly speaking again. "but toots! your movies are boring."

"shut up, i have the perfect movie." you smirked, scrolling for a bit until you finally found what you were looking for.

"robots? seriously?"

"you'll like it! my baby brother made me watch it the other day, it's fun."

jinx groaned but quickly ended her small whim, focusing on the candy more than the movie. she honestly didn't really care, as long as she's with you.

both of you were around sixteen years old when you moved to her small town, accidentally stealing her private hang out spot under the old stairs at school. she quickly took a liking to you, interested in your sudden arrival and relaxed demeanor. besides your great sense of style and your pretty smile, or the softness of your hair, or the way you matched her physical love language and you silently reassured how much you like her presence with light touches. soft tugging at the edge of her shirt, tangling your arms while you walk side by side, resting your hands on her legs when she comfortably puts them across your lap, maybe even doing it yourself.

the movie barely started when you cuddled up next to her, opening your own snacks while you asked: “where’s your dad, by the way?”

“he’s out… he said he’ll be staying late at work tonight. dunno why, but at least we have the house for ourselves.” she said, looking at you for a moment before returning her gaze at the tv screen.

“yeah, this is better.” you contently rubbed your cheek on her shoulder.

“geez–” she huffed in feigned annoyance to hide the light blush, “you’re awfully touchy today…”

you react frowning, “i dunno what’re you talking about.” her call out doesn’t stop you, staying pressed by her side. “it’s just…” your voice wandering off caught her attention, tilting her head at you.

“what? what is it?”

you groaned quietly, reluctantly pulling away from her to grab your phone. now it was her face hovering over your shoulder, looking at your fingers opening instagram and your chat with ekko.

ugh, ekko.

jinx already had an idea of what got you in a bad mood, you two hated each other’s guts since the very first moment you befriended jinx. it wasn’t a mystery, jinx and ekko were former childhood friends. growing up, ekko developed a sweet crush on jinx.

too bad she didn’t reciprocate.

but even after rejecting him, he still thought he had a chance. his subtle insistence was the cause that made her blow him off completely. ekko simply couldn’t understand it, so he blamed you.

sadly you all shared the same group of friends, the hangouts filled with bickering and a slight tense air between the three of you. it was also common for ekko to reply to your instagram stories with unnecessary comments about you and your posts.

this time he replied to a picture of you and jinx earlier that day, when you spent your afternoon by the lake. it was a cute selfie, both of you with wet hair and pretty matching bikinis.

< you two look pretty close for only being best friends. > he said.

jinx stared at the chat with furrowed eyebrows, she was confused. is that it? that was enough to get on your nerves? of course you were close— what is wrong with that? aren’t best friends allowed to hang out all the time and post pictures together?

her mind wandered off briefly. she was conscious that maybe, just maybe, the line of your relationship was a bit blurred. she thought about her own comments under your pictures, a clear display of possession in every word, even only with emojis. she thought about the way you hug her from behind anytime you could.

she didn’t even have to go that far in her memory. that very same day, at the lake, what was supposed to be a friendly hangout seemed —and felt— more like a date.

she could still feel the warmth and weight of your body on her back when she playfully carried you around in the water. your hands untangling her long wet hair while she comfortably sat in between your legs. your quiet sighs of pleasure when she massaged your back as she applied sunscreen—

“jinx.” you snapped her out of her short trance. “did you hear me?”

“huh? sorry, what did you say?”

“i was complaining. like— what is his problem? i swear he will explode out of jealousy.” you grumpily muttered, laying your head back to rest on her shoulder. jinx buried her nose in the crook of your neck, it was only natural.

“i don’t know why you let him get under your skin, you don’t have to worry about him.” she tried to reassure you, punctuating her statement with a gentle kiss on your neck. “you’re the one in my arms, after all.”

you mindlessly hummed, relaxing on her arms. “i know, i know… he’s down bad for you. and not only him! my fingers aren’t enough to count all the people feening over you.” jinx snickered, listening to your jealous bragging as she placed butterfly kisses on the side of you neck. she felt you tilting your head to the other side, welcoming her affection. “every time we go out you have at least three boys asking for your number. your followers grow like two digits every day.”

“hm. i do have my user on a lot of walls, though.”

“not the point. i should just lock you up here by now.”

the feeling of your soft skin under her lips was making her dizzy. she didn’t understand how you could act so nonchalant when she was trying to mark you. maybe she was being too subtle.

“that’s so boring,” jinx groaned, sighing through her nose as she placed her chin on your shoulder to glance at you. oh— your cheeks were flushed. the slight tint of pink suddenly encouraged her. “how would you keep me entertained, hm?”

you took a long, deep breath. the possibilities were endless, hundreds of scenarios flowing through your mind in half a second. preparing your answer, you turned slightly to meet her eyes. is then when you noticed she stopped her ministrations.

an unamused small frown appears on your face, “i’ll bring you books.”

her face twisted into a pout as she pulled away from her neck. she raised an eyebrow at her response, “books? you’re gonna lock me up and expect me to stay occupied reading all day?"

“what else d’you want?” you raise an eyebrow, pressing into her chest as you laid back. now it was your turn to rub your cheek on her neck, easily reaching the soft edge of her jawline with your lips. ”your little trinkets and gadgets?”

jinx’s arms tightened their grip around your waist, pulling you closer against her. "i mean... those would be nice too..." she tried to maintain her casual tone, but the feeling of your lips against her skin was making it difficult to keep her composure. "but I'll need something else to entertain me..."

“so greedy…” you murmured, tapping the other side of her cheek to make her turn towards you.

her eyes meet yours for a brief moment before you mindlessly took her lips in a gentle, yet deep kiss.

a soft gasp escaped her lips when your mouth captured hers. for a few seconds, jinx was stunned by the sudden kiss, but she quickly gave in, melting against you. her arms enveloped your body completely, holding you close as she deepened the kiss.

she was greedy, alright. she wanted more and more, she couldn't get enough of your touch. the calm pace of the kiss warmed up her chest, you moved so naturally that it didn’t feel like your first kiss. yet the taste and feeling of your lips sent shivers down her spine, she could hear the imaginary fireworks and standing ovations.

when your fingers tangled in the hair on the back of her hair, a low satisfied hum escaped jinx’s lips.

the kiss was intoxicating, like a drug she couldn't get enough of. jinx's fingers traced the contour of your body, exploring every inch of your skin as she continued to kiss you with a growing intensity. it wasn’t long until things got messier, her tongue pushed past your lips as her hands started to confidently wander around, slipping under your shirt.

her cold hands on your stomach made you flinch, breaking the kiss with a quiet gasp followed by a giggle. “you’re freezing.”

“hm, you don’t like it?” she smirked, purposefully caressing up and down, almost reaching the underside of your naked breasts.

it should be strange, unnatural. but neither of you felt that way, it was more like… an improvement. the only proof of the fact that it was the first time you acted on your feelings was the raw hunger, the primal need to possess the other.

the steamy make out was only interrupted to change positions. now jinx straddles your lap with her milky thighs pressed tightly against either side of your hips. it was impossible to stop herself from grinding into you, and so was impossible to shut the small whimpers coming from her throat.

they grew louder and desperate when your lips attacked her neck, nibbling the skin. “feels good, jinx?” you whispered softly, combing the harsh graze of your teeth with open-mouthed kisses.

she continued to grind with increased fervor, clearly chasing the delicious friction of your bottom against her pussy. if she moved right, it was her clit receiving the pressure, making her squirm and moan messily.

“yeah— yes, feels s’good.”

your hand sneaked down into her loose shorts, a strained gasp escaped her mouth as her hips twitched against your touch. next thing she knows, her insides squeezed your fingers as she eagerly jumped on you. the heat that was building on her lower abdomen grew exponentially, jinx was sure that her release was close.

her body moved against your fingers more desperately, more frantically. she was on the edge, the need for a stronger connection was overwhelming her. "i-i’m so close," she managed to gasp out, her body tense, coiled like a spring ready to snap.

her body trembled, her muscles clenched, her breath catching in her throat as her release washed over her, a wave of pleasure and heat overwhelming her senses. she cried, her hips bucking against your hand involuntarily as she rode the wave of pleasure, your name a soft, shaky moan on her lips.

even after she relaxed her body, your fingers gathered up her cum and teasingly rubbed her clit with her wetness, enjoying the way her body shivered and squirmed to the overstimulation.

“ngh— too sensitive.” she protested in a soft whine. you chuckled quietly, deciding to be merciful.

“that was so hot…” you sighed dreamily, hugging her boneless body when her head fell to your neck. “this enough to keep you entertained?”

“fuck you,” she huffed, though you could feel the big smile that formed on her lips. “you could always just mark me up.”

#jinx x reader #jinx #jinx arcane #arcane #lesbian #jinx x fem!reader #jinx x reader smut #arcane jinx #jinx smut #jinx lol #wlw #jinx x y/n #jinx x you

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ohmygraves · 1 year ago

Text

the first time you and ghost became roommates, he didn't have a lot of things.

he had his essentials, packed in a duffel bag and like, two moving boxes and that's it. he didn't even have his own furniture or pots and pans, so the two of you didn't cook for the first few weeks living together. he seems perfectly content with just living with the furniture that came with the apartment, an old beat up sofa and dirty stained dining table, together with a few chairs and old mattresses in each bedroom. you made it a goal to get rid of the smelly bed as soon as possible, working your arse off to afford new beds for the sake of your back.

ghost, or well, simon, don't feel the need to own too many things. he thinks it's a nuisance, since well it'll be tiring to pack so many things when he needs to move again for some reason or another. even when he stayed in the barracks, his room was always the most bare out of everyone.

you were the opposite, of course. you liked having lots of personal items and memorabilia, or just trinkets that you like in general. your shared flat is full of your items, posters hung up on the wall, framed pictures, potted plants, consoles and books, whatever you have. it felt like the place was only occupied by you, and with how often simon was away on deployments and missions, it might as well be.

you both split duties when he's around. you cook, he does dishes. you take out the trash, he cleans the bathroom. you tidy things up and he'd mop/vacuum it. he insisted that you cook since he's not much of a cook himself (which, explains why he doesn't have a single kitchen utensils in his stuff) and that you're better at cooking than him. he'd gladly deal with all the dirty jobs for you, wouldn't be the worst thing he did anyway.

you and simon get groceries separately (his "groceries" consisting of some type of booze and maybe toiletries, perhaps some snacks if he's feeling fancy), but very rarely you go together with him to tesco or something. you always have to remind him to note whatever things needed to be replaced at your shared flat, so that you don't have to go multiple times just to get a bottle of dish soap or toilet paper.

you two bicker like an old married couple sometimes, because he's a smart ass and would tease you, and you'd get mad at him for eating your things or using your soap/shampoo.

sometimes you wondered if rooming with simon was a bad idea, but he had always made sure to keep your job easy for you except for a few minor inconveniences he did on purpose just so you'd scold him. he helped move furniture and do the heavy jobs for you, and not to mention he leaves you alone, never nosy or get too friendly with you. although at the same time, he expected you to do the same for him.

if he tells you when he's coming back after missions, you'd get him a treat when he gets home, some beer already chilling in the refrigerator and his favorite snacks on the counter, together with his favorite takeout dinner (of course, you'd ask for the money back. you're not made of money if you're rooming with someone). some snarky note like "shower first before you sleep, stinky" or "it's 30 pounds for everything, you're welcome".

simon didn't think much of it, but he definitely took you for granted. you're a nice roommate, you two get along, and you're a great cook. you made sure to feed him whenever possible (because you're convinced he'd actually forget to eat when he's alone, considering his groceries as mentioned before), and not to mention you made his masks and balaclava smell nice and clean when you do laundry.

you'd patiently help him sew, teach him how to mend his clothes when he has the time (which is still a funny sight seeing how small the needles looked between his thick massive fingers). he always gets frustrated, telling you that you did a much better job than his lousy stitches that wouldn't even hold up after one wear. you'd sew all tears and holes on his masks and clothes, patch the holes up when you could.

in return, he'd bring some of your favorite snacks home. he always said something along the lines that it was on sale, or that it's buy one get one free, but you noted that he always brought home your favorite things after you mended his clothes, or helped him in some way. you didn't mind, you liked the snacks and it's nice that he shows his gratitude in this way.

you try to ignore the thumping of your heart every time he hands you things while saying "reckon you'd like this."

#he's so simple #its so cute #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty headcanon #simon ghost riley #cod headcanon #simon ghost riley x reader #cod ghost x reader #roommate au

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sophsbookstore · 24 days ago

Note

i loved the quinn x pregnant!reader 💕 i was wondering if you could write one of their baby shower, where quinn is just being so attentive since it can get overwhelming tyy

Little All Star

Quinn Hughes x Pregnant!reader

read part 3 here!

Word count: 1564

Hockey Masterlist

A/N: Baby shower time!! (I also added a gender reveal at the end!)

The room buzzed with a chaotic symphony of laughter, chatter, and the clinking of champagne flutes (sparkling cider for her, of course). (Y/N), radiant with a seven-month glow, navigated the crowded living room of their Vancouver home with practiced ease, a hand resting protectively on her swollen belly. It was her baby shower, and the guest list read like a who's who of the NHL. Seriously, almost every player seemed to be there, along with their wives and girlfriends. It was a testament to Quinn's popularity, and to the genuine warmth (Y/N) herself radiated.

(Y/N) turned to Nathan MacKinnon and his partner. "Nate! You made it! I was worried you’d still be stuck in practice."

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," Nate grinned, handing her a gift bag. "Congrats, (Y/N) and Quinn. You two are going to be amazing parents."

She moved on, greeting Auston Matthews, Cale Makar, and a slew of other hockey stars and their families. It was a whirlwind of well-wishes, baby advice (solicited and unsolicited), and gifts that ranged from adorable knitted outfits to high-tech baby monitors. Quinn, ever the gracious host, was circulating too, though (Y/N) noticed he kept a watchful eye on her, always ready to steer her away from any potential bumps or overly enthusiastic hugs.

After working her way through the room, (Y/N) clinked a spoon against a champagne glass, the sound cutting through the din. "Okay, everyone, can I have your attention for a moment?" she announced, a playful smile on her face. The room quieted down, all eyes turning towards her.

"First off, thank you all so much for being here. It means the world to Quinn and me to have you all celebrate this special moment with us. We're so excited to welcome our little one into the world, and we can't wait for all the chaos and joy that's to come."

She paused, gesturing towards a table laden with plain white onesies and fabric markers in every color imaginable. "Now, for a little activity. We'd love for each of you to personalize a onesie for our baby. Get creative! Draw a picture, write a message, whatever you like. We'll cherish these forever."

A murmur of excitement rippled through the room. Hockey players, known more for their skills on the ice than their artistic abilities, suddenly became engrossed in the task at hand. Auston Matthews meticulously drew a maple leaf, while Cale Makar opted for a more abstract design. Even Quinn, usually so reserved, was sketching something with a focused expression. (Y/N) watched him, her heart swelling with love. She knew he was going to be the most amazing dad.

Her future in-laws, Quinn’s parents and brothers, were beaming with pride. They hovered nearby, offering (Y/N) snacks and drinks, making sure she was comfortable. "You're glowing, sweetheart," Quinn’s mom, Ellen, said, squeezing her hand. "You and Quinn are going to make such wonderful parents."

As the afternoon progressed, the onesie-decorating continued, the laughter and chatter never ceasing. (Y/N) felt overwhelmed with love and gratitude. Looking around at the room full of people who cared about her and Quinn, she knew that their baby was already surrounded by so much love.

The aroma of mini quiches, sliders, and an assortment of other delectable finger foods filled the air. The onesie decorating had transitioned seamlessly into a relaxed buffet-style meal. Guests mingled, plates in hand, the earlier artistic endeavors now a source of amusement and lighthearted ribbing. (Y/N), however, was content to perch on a plush armchair, a plate of fruit and a small pastry balanced on her bump. She watched the scene unfold with a warm smile, feeling a profound sense of happiness.

Suddenly, Quinn was beside her, his hand gently resting on her shoulder. "Hey," he said softly, his eyes filled with concern. "You okay? You've been sitting here for a while."

(Y/N) looked up at him, her smile widening. "I'm perfect," she assured him, taking his hand in hers. "Just soaking it all in. It's amazing to see everyone here celebrating with us."

Quinn's gaze softened as he looked at her. "You're amazing," he murmured, his thumb gently stroking her hand. He glanced down at her belly. "And so is this little one."

"They're both great," (Y/N) confirmed, patting her bump affectionately. "Really. I'm feeling good. A little tired, maybe, but good."

Quinn still looked a little worried. "You sure? You haven't been up and moving around much."

(Y/N) chuckled. "I'm seven months pregnant, Quinn. Moving around isn't exactly my favorite pastime these days." She squeezed his hand. "Go on, enjoy yourself. Talk to the guys. I know you haven't seen some of them in a while."

Quinn hesitated. "I'm good here with you," he said, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Quinn," (Y/N) said gently, "I want you to have fun too. This is a celebration for you as well. Go on. I promise I'll be fine. My mom and your mom are keeping a close eye on me," she added, nodding towards the two women who were indeed hovering nearby, chatting animatedly.

Quinn finally relented, though his expression still held a hint of worry. "Okay," he said, giving her hand a final squeeze. "But I'll be checking in every five minutes."

(Y/N) laughed. "Deal."

He leaned down and kissed her forehead, then brushed a stray strand of hair from her face. "I love you," he whispered.

"I love you too," (Y/N) replied, her heart overflowing with love for this man who was so devoted to her and their unborn child.

As Quinn went off to join his teammates, (Y/N) watched him go, a soft smile playing on her lips. She knew he would always worry about them. It was just the kind of person he was. And honestly, she wouldn't have it any other way. It was a testament to his love, a love that she knew would only grow stronger when their little one finally arrived. She looked down at her belly, feeling a tiny flutter. "Your dad's a good one," she whispered to her baby. "We're lucky to have him."

The buffet tables were now mostly cleared, the remnants of the delicious food a testament to the celebratory feast. (Y/N) and Quinn, hand in hand, made their way to the center of the living room, a shared, excited glint in their eyes. They had a little surprise planned, a grand finale to the already wonderful afternoon.

"Alright everyone," (Y/N) announced, her voice ringing with anticipation. "We have one more little thing to share with you all before you go."

Quinn stepped forward, placing a protective arm around her. "We're so excited to finally reveal the gender of our baby," he said, his gaze sweeping over the crowd of smiling faces.

A collective gasp rippled through the room, followed by a flurry of excited whispers. The guests had been eagerly awaiting this moment. (Y/N) had strategically avoided any hints throughout the shower, keeping everyone guessing.

"And to help us with this very important announcement," (Y/N) continued, gesturing towards the doorway, "we have two very special helpers."

As if on cue, Jack and Luke Hughes walked into the room, a dramatic flair in their steps. The crowd erupted in laughter. Jack was decked out head-to-toe in blue, while Luke was a vision in pink. The brothers grinned mischievously at each other, the playful rivalry evident in their eyes.

"So," Quinn explained, a smile playing on his lips, "the Hughes brothers are going to settle this once and for all. A little brotherly competition to reveal whether we're welcoming a little hockey player or a future hockey player!"

The room erupted in cheers and laughter. Jack and Luke squared off, their playful banter echoing through the room. They started “play” fighting, shoving each other lightly, much to the amusement of the crowd. It was clear they were enjoying the theatrics of it all. The playful wrestling match continued for a few minutes, with both brothers putting on a show. Finally, after a particularly dramatic tumble, Jack emerged victorious, pinning Luke to the ground.

"It's a boy!" Jack shouted, pumping his fist in the air, his blue attire now even more prominent.

The room exploded. Cheers, whistles, and applause filled the air. Quinn let out a whoop of joy, pumping his fists in the air mirroring his younger brother and then turning to (Y/N) and pulling her into a passionate kiss.

"We're having a little boy!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with pure happiness.

The hockey players in the crowd went wild. "Future NHL star!" someone yelled. "Another Hughes brother on the ice!" "Get him a mini stick!" others shouted, their voices filled with excitement.

(Y/N) laughed, her eyes sparkling with tears of joy. She looked around at the room, at all the people who were sharing in their happiness, and felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude. Their little boy was already so loved.

As the celebration continued, (Y/N) leaned into Quinn, her hand resting on her belly. "Looks like we're going to have our hands full," she murmured.

Quinn smiled, kissing her forehead. "I wouldn't have it any other way," he replied, his eyes filled with love and anticipation. "I can't wait to meet our little guy."

#quinn hughes fluff #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes x pregnant!reader #quinn hughes x y/n #hockey imagine #nhl imagine

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pbaz7 · 2 months ago

Text

CROSSING THE LINE — PART TWO ♡

paige x azzi

word count: 6k

A/N: This chapter is lowkey a little all over the place because I needed to set the tone of their relationship for the story going forward. Clearly they both want the cookie real bad 😭. Let me know what you think and leave live reactions if you can, trust it helps with motivation

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

August 2023

Azzi lay sprawled across her bed, one arm propped behind her head, the other holding her phone as she scrolled absentmindedly. She had a bag of veggie straws on her lap, her go-to healthy snack. She popped a straw into her mouth, savoring it as the late summer heat lazily drifted through the open window in her room.

The door to her room burst open without warning, and Paige groaned loudly as she stumbled in, dramatically dropping her bag and flopping face-first onto Azzi's bed.

Azzi didn’t even look up from her phone. “Hello to you too. There’s a thing called knocking, you know.”

Paige didn’t respond immediately, burying her face deeper into the bed with a huff.

Azzi, without missing a beat, smirked and continued, “Ah yes, my day was great, Paige. Thank you for asking." She finally glanced over at Paige, raising an eyebrow. "You’re welcome for the update."

Paige, her face still buried in Azzi’s comforter, mumbled something unintelligible before reaching blindly for the bag in Azzi’s lap.

“What the hell!” Azzi protested, but Paige already had a veggie straw halfway to her mouth. She bit into it, chewed once, and immediately made a face.

“Ew. Why does this taste like sadness?” Paige grimaced, holding the offending snack out like it had personally wronged her.

Azzi snatched the bag back, laughing. “That’s what you get for stealing it. It’s called being healthy, Paige. You should try it sometime.”

Paige rolled onto her back, groaning even louder this time, her arm thrown dramatically over her eyes. Azzi went back to her phone, ignoring her antics, but Paige wasn’t having it.

She sighed. Loudly.

Azzi’s eyes flicked up for a moment, unimpressed, before returning to her screen.

Another sigh. Louder this time.

Finally, Azzi rolled her eyes, setting her phone down. “Alright, Drama Queen. What’s wrong?”

Paige perked up instantly, propping herself up on her elbows as if she’d been waiting for this exact moment as she immediately began talking. “There are no interesting girls on campus.”

Azzi blinked, her eyebrow raising in a slow, deliberate arch.

Paige took that as her cue to elaborate. “Seriously,” she continued, flopping back down but twisting to face Azzi. “None of them are a challenge. They’re all just... so easy. They practically throw themselves at me. It’s boring…bland.”

Azzi snorted, setting her bag on the nightstand. “That’s because you’ve probably ran through the entire campus by now.”

Paige sat up sharply, clutching her chest like she’d been mortally wounded. “Excuse me? That’s not true!”

Azzi gave her a pointed look, her lips twitching in amusement. “Oh, it’s not? What’s the count at now? 40?”

Paige scoffed, grabbing a pillow and lightly tossing it at Azzi. “First of all, rude. Second, it’s not that high. And third... that’s not the point!”

Azzi laughed, catching the pillow with ease and tossing it back onto her bed. “Face it. You were bound to get bored eventually, it's just catching up to you a little earlier than expected.”

Paige let out a long, exaggerated sigh, her dramatic streak in full force. “I’m doomed,” she muttered, burying her face in Azzi’s blankets again.

Azzi leaned back against the headboard, arms crossed, watching her with an amused smirk. “What exactly are you looking for?”

Paige groaned into the comforter before turning her head to the side, her voice muffled. “Someone interesting…exciting. Someone who’s actually a challenge.”

Azzi tilted her head. “A challenge?”

Paige pushed herself up onto her elbows, frowning in thought. “Yeah, like... someone who doesn’t just fall all over themselves to get my attention. Someone... different.” She sat up a little straighter, her expression shifting as if a light bulb had gone off in her head. “I need someone like you. You barely tolerate me.”

Azzi froze, mid-bite of her veggie straw, before she let out a laugh. “Careful, Paige. You’re letting your attraction for me show.”

Paige immediately sat up, shaking her head. “I’m not attracted to you Azzi don’t be ridiculous.”

Azzi leaned back on her elbows, a playful smirk on her lips. “Oh yeah? Because I definitely remember you saying how good I looked that one night when we were out.”

Paige froze, caught off guard. “I said you looked nice, not good,” she protested with her finger up, using a matter of fact tone.

Azzi chuckled. “Nice, good... whatever. Point is I always look the same Paige. My face doesn’t change just because you’ve had a few drinks.”

Paige threw up her hands in mock frustration. “Even if I said it that night that doesn’t mean anything!”

Azzi raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying this too much. “Uh-huh. Sure, sure.”

Paige leaned back again, staring at the ceiling. “Fine, whatever. You win. I admit it: maybe, maybe, I said you looked nice. But that’s it. That’s all it was.”

Azzi studied Paige, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "You’re really trying to convince me you don’t have a thing for me, huh? Almost like you're overcompensating or something."

Paige sat up abruptly, her face scrunched in exasperation. "I do not have a thing for you." She grabbed another veggie straw, crunching down hard like it was Azzi's fault she was annoyed.

Azzi tilted her head, biting back a grin. "Right. That’s why you’re stealing my snacks and pouting in my bed."

Paige pointed a finger at her. "First of all, I’m not pouting." She paused, considering. "Okay, maybe I’m pouting a little, but that’s only because this campus is a wasteland. And second, you’re the only person I can tolerate right now but you’re on thin ice now."

Azzi raised her hands in mock surrender. "Wow, I’m honored. Truly."

Paige flopped onto her back again, groaning dramatically. "You should be. I don’t let just anyone witness my emotional breakdowns."

Azzi chuckled, nudging Paige’s side with her foot. "Okay, so let’s say you find someone who’s a 'challenge.' What happens then? You chase her down, win her over, and then what? Have sex with her once, probably not even kissing her might I add, which is a whole nother conversation and never speak to her again after that?"

Paige turned her head, her brows furrowed slightly, as if the question had struck a nerve. "I don’t know," she admitted quietly. "Maybe it’s not just about the chase. Maybe I want something... different this time. Something that can be exciting."

Azzi’s playful expression softened knowing it was hard for her to admit, and she nudged Paige again, gentler this time. "So why not start acting like it?"

Paige rolled onto her side to face Azzi, propping her head up with one hand. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

Azzi shrugged, her tone casual but her eyes steady. "If you want something real, stop playing games. Stop looking for someone to impress and start looking for someone you can just... be yourself with."

Paige stared at her for a moment, her expression unreadable, before a small, almost hesitant smile curved her lips. "You make it sound so simple, when in reality I’m sure it’s hell."

Azzi grinned, grabbing her bag of veggie straws and shaking it. "It is simple. But then again, I’m not the one with commitment issues."

Paige sat up, narrowing her eyes. "Okay, now you’re just being smug."

Azzi laughed, leaning forward. "Me? Smug? Never."

Paige grabbed the pillow next to her and swatted Azzi lightly. "You’re the worst."

Azzi caught the pillow mid-swing, holding it hostage with a smirk. "Yet, here you are, taking over my entire bed, eating my snacks, and yapping my ear off. What does that say about you?"

Paige smirked, leaning back on her elbows. "Says more about you, actually. Like how you clearly have a crush on me. For the second time now is it?"

Azzi froze, blinking in surprise before scoffing. "Oh, please."

Paige grinned, sensing an opportunity. "Oh, please what? Oh, please stop pointing out the obvious? Or oh, please stop reminding you about how you cock-blocked me the other day?"

Azzi groaned, tossing the pillow back at Paige’s face. "That wasn’t because of a crush. That was because the girl just wasn’t up to par, you need to have standards if I’m going to be associated with you Paige.”

Paige caught the pillow, her eyes lighting up as she sat up straighter. "Up to par, huh? What does that mean? Up to your standards?"

Azzi groaned again, louder this time, leaning back against the headboard. "No. It just means... she was too eh for you."

Paige laughed, clearly enjoying this too much. "Right, because it totally had nothing to do with you being jealous. You’re not fooling anyone, Azzi. Least of all me."

Azzi opened her mouth to retort, but her phone buzzed on the nightstand, saving her from whatever embarrassing thing Paige would say next.

Paige tilted her head, curiosity sparking as Azzi grabbed the phone and glanced at the screen. "Who’s that?"

Azzi shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant as she set the phone back down without answering. "Just someone."

Paige narrowed her eyes. "Someone? Like, someone, someone?"

Azzi smirked but didn’t answer, which only seemed to fuel Paige’s frustration.

"Azzi," Paige pressed, leaning closer. "Are you seeing someone for real this time and not telling me?"

Azzi raised an eyebrow, her expression challenging. "Why? You jealous or something?"

Paige scoffed, leaning back. "Jealous? Please. I’m just... curious. I’m your best friend, you're basically required to tell me."

Azzi let out a low laugh, shaking her head. "Sure you are, Paige. Sure you are."

Paige huffed, crossing her arms. "You know, you can respond, right? Phones work like that. It’s this wild thing called texting back when you’re interested."

Azzi leaned forward slightly, her smirk deepening as her eyes locked on Paige’s. "I’m occupied right now," she said smoothly, her voice laced with amusement, "and besides, I think I prefer what’s in front of me."

Paige froze for a beat, her cheeks heating slightly before she rolled her eyes to cover it up. "You’re crazy," she muttered, but her lips betrayed her with a small smile.

Azzi just grinned, settling back into her spot, clearly pleased with herself.

This little flirty back-and-forth thing had been going on between them for a while now. It was never anything serious—not that either of them would admit, anyway. To them, it was just harmless banter, the kind of playfulness that came naturally when you were best friends. The team had other ideas though because they definitely didn’t do it with anyone else.

The teasing had started not long after the two began spending nearly every waking moment together. Whether it was during practice, eating food, or late nights where all they did was talk, Paige and Azzi were always in sync. Nika and Caroline, liked to point out how easily their conversations veered into territory that, for most people, might have seemed loaded with meaning. But Paige and Azzi always waved it off. "We’re just best friends," they'd say, as if that explained everything. And to them, it did.

Nothing had ever actually happened between them. No stolen kisses, no lingering touches—nothing that crossed the unspoken line of friendship. They genuinely had a great friendship, the kind that felt effortless, like breathing. Azzi was the one person Paige could always count on to be honest, even when the truth stung. And Paige, for all her fake bravado, was one of the few people who could make Azzi laugh until her stomach hurt and was actually really caring when it came down to it.

Paige, of course, was oblivious to what was growing in her chest. She’d been so caught up complaining about how boring all the girls on campus were—how none of them were a challenge—that she didn’t stop to think about why they all suddenly felt so dull to her. It wasn’t like her to lose interest this quickly, girls throwing themselves at her had been her routine for some time now, but somehow all of a sudden the one night stands didn’t seem to hold her attention for that long.

There was already one person who did. But Paige, being how she was, hadn't even let this thought cross her brain.

Azzi challenged her in ways no one else could. She knew exactly how to push Paige’s buttons, when to call her out, and when to let her sulk. She was steady where Paige was impulsive, confident without being cocky. And despite Paige’s insistence that she wasn’t interested in anyone right now, the truth was staring her in the face every time Azzi flashed her that teasing smirk.

…

Later that night, Paige was laying across the couch, lazily flipping through a magazine as Nika scrolled on her phone next to her. The apartment was quiet except for the occasional sound of Nika tapping her screen and the low hum of music playing from a speaker.

Azzi’s door creaked open, and both girls looked up.

Azzi stepped out dressed in a cropped top and some nice sweatpants, her shoes in hand, her hair down, just enough to look effortlessly put-together. There was a touch of makeup on her face—subtle, but just enough to make her stand out. Paige grinned, leaning her head back dramatically as she let out a loud, exaggerated wolf whistle.

“Damn, Az,” Paige teased, a mischievous smirk playing on her lips. “Who you getting all sexy for?”

Azzi groaned, shaking her head as she slipped on her shoes. “Shut up, Paige.”

“Hey, I’m just saying,” Paige said, holding her hands up in mock innocence, the smirk never leaving her face.

Azzi ignored her, grabbing her keys and bag off the counter. She was halfway to the door when Paige straightened up on the couch, narrowing her eyes playfully. “So… you gonna tell me who the someone is, or what?”

Azzi paused, looking over her shoulder with a blank expression. “What someone?”

“You know what someone,” Paige shot back, her grin widening.

Azzi shrugged, slinging her bag over her shoulder nonchalantly. Then, she turned fully to face Paige, her lips curling into a smile. “Fine. If you must know…” She leaned against the wall, her eyes locking on Paige’s. “I look this good for you.”

Paige froze, her jaw dropping slightly as her magazine slipped out of her hand.

Azzi chuckled softly at Paige’s stunned expression, giving her a playful wink and blowing a kiss. “Don’t wait up,” she added with a smirk before finishing her walk towards the door.

As Azzi stepped out, Paige finally gathered her barings enough to cup her hands around her mouth. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

Azzi turned just enough to glance back at her, a sly grin on her lips. “That’s not saying much, Paige. There’s not a lot you wouldn’t do.”

Paige burst out laughing, shaking her head as the door clicked shut behind Azzi.

Nika snorted from her spot on the couch, barely glancing up from her phone. “She got you there.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Paige muttered, her grin lingering as she returned to her magazine.

…

Azzi sat across from her date, sipping on the last of her drink while nodding at something she barely heard. It was the same conversation she’d had five times now—with five different girls. They were all perfectly nice, perfectly pretty, and perfectly dull.

This one wasn’t any different and it was now their third date.

It wasn’t her fault, Azzi thought. The girl was trying, rattling off story after story about her classes, her summer internship, and her plans for grad school. Azzi had smiled and asked the right questions, nodded in all the right places, and even managed a genuine laugh here and there. But she was tired. Tired of forcing it, tired of trying to figure out why nothing ever felt... right.

Azzi knew she liked girls—there was no question about that. But lately, dating felt like more of a chore than something she actually wanted to do.

When the bill came, Azzi quickly pulled out her card before her date could protest. “I’ve got it,” she said with a polite smile, brushing off the girl's offer to split it.

Her date beamed at her. “You’re so sweet. Are you sure?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it.”

As they left the restaurant, the girl insisted on walking Azzi back to her suite for some reason. They strolled down the dimly lit campus paths in a silence that teetered on awkward. Azzi’s date seemed to pick up on it and began filling the space with small talk with a long-winded story about her roommate’s cat.

Azzi, hands stuffed in her pockets, nodded and gave polite, one-word answers. She was too tired to fake enthusiasm anymore, but she didn’t want to be rude, either.

“That’s so cool,” Azzi said automatically when the girl paused for breath, her voice void of the energy she usually had.

Her date didn’t seem to notice. “Right? Anyway, I’m so glad we finally got to hang out again. I’ve been wanting to get to know you for a while now.”

“Yeah, same,” Azzi lied, managing a genuine chuckle as she was internally thinking about how she sounded exactly like Paige.

When they finally reached her building, Azzi let out a quiet sigh of relief. She stopped at the door, turning to the girl with a polite smile. “Well, this is me.”

The girl hesitated, her expression shifting slightly. “Do you want to maybe hang out a little longer? I could come in for a bit.”

Azzi shook her head, keeping her tone light. “I’m really tired. It’s been a long day.”

Her date frowned, stepping closer. “Come on Azzi, we’ve been on like three dates now. Don’t you think it’s time to stop pretending this is something it’s not?”

Azzi blinked, caught off guard. “I’m not pretending anything. I thought we agreed this was casual.”

“Yeah, but you’re not even acting like it’s casual,” the girl countered, her voice growing slightly louder. “We haven’t kissed. We haven’t hooked up. Isn’t that the whole point of casual? Otherwise we’re just wasting time.”

Azzi sighed, crossing her arms. “Casual doesn’t mean I owe you anything. If this isn’t working for you, that’s fine, but—”

“Are you serious right now?” the girl interrupted, throwing up her hands. “You’ve been leading me on, Azzi. You don’t even seem like you want to be here!”

Azzi took a step back. “That’s not fair,” she said evenly, though her tone carried an edge. “I’ve been completely honest with you from the start. If you’re looking for something else, then maybe I’m not—”

“Not fair?” the girl snapped, her voice now loud enough to echo down the quiet hallway. “What’s not fair is me wasting my time on someone who clearly isn’t going to put out or take this seriously! Why even bother if you’re not into this?”

Azzi opened her mouth to respond, but the door behind her suddenly swung open.

Paige leaned against the frame, her presence commanding as she stood just behind Azzi. She wasn’t wearing a shirt, only a pair of sweats and a sports bra, her toned frame illuminated by the light from the suite. Her arms were crossed, her posture relaxed, but the sharpness in her blue eyes betrayed her easy stance. She didn’t spare a glance for the other girl, her attention fixed solely on Azzi.

“Everything okay out here?” Paige asked, her tone light but her words deliberate.

Azzi opened her mouth to answer, but her date beat her to it. “We’re fine, thanks,” the girl said with an edge of annoyance.

Paige’s gaze snapped to her, tilting her head just enough to feel menacing as her voice lowered, kind of dangerously calm. “I wasn’t talking to you.”

The girl faltered under Paige’s icy glare, her confidence visibly wilting. Azzi sighed, running a hand through her hair. “It’s fine, Paige.” Azzi said as she turned slightly to glance at Paige. “Go back inside.”

Paige didn’t budge, her eyes still locked on the girl. Azzi stepped closer, placing a hand on Paige’s shoulder, gently guiding her back toward the suite. “I’ve got it. Just.. go.”

Paige lingered for a moment, her expression softening as she glanced back at Azzi. “You sure?” she asked quietly, her voice losing its edge.

Azzi met her gaze, her lips curving into a small, reassuring smile. She nodded. “Yeah, I’ll be inside in a second.”

Paige gave her a final look, one of quiet understanding, before stepping back inside and closing the door behind her.

Azzi sighed as she turned back to her date, her polite demeanor firmly in place. “Look, I had fun tonight, but... this is probably the last one.”

The girl’s eyes widened, her mouth opening to protest, but Azzi didn’t give her the chance. She turned on her heel to walk into her suite without another word.

As she reached for the door, it swung open, and a girl stormed out, her expression tight with frustration. Azzi stepped aside just in time to avoid a collision, muttering, “Ever heard of ‘excuse me’?” as the girl huffed past her without a word. Shaking her head, Azzi stepped inside, shutting the door behind her.

Paige was laying on the couch, scrolling through her phone with a nonchalant air. Azzi leaned against the door for a moment before addressing her. “You didn’t have to make her leave, you know.”

Paige glanced up briefly before returning her attention to her phone. “She was upset about something. I just told her to take it somewhere else.”

Azzi’s brow lifted as she crossed the room. “She was upset because you probably stopped whatever you were doing to come outside.”

Paige shrugged, still scrolling. “We weren’t getting anywhere and I wasn’t interested anymore. Why let her waste more time?”

Azzi sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose before her gaze shifted back to Paige. She frowned. “Please while we’re at it, could you please put on a shirt? This isn’t Magic Mike.”

Paige smirked, finally setting her phone aside as her blue eyes locked on Azzi. “It could be. You like what you see?”

Azzi rolled her eyes, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “No, actually, I can’t stand it. Or you matter of fact.”

Paige pushed off the couch slightly, leaning forward with a teasing grin. “Funny, because I seem to remember you staring a couple of times.”

Azzi didn’t bother responding, instead heading toward her room, muttering under her breath about Paige’s antics.

Paige followed Azzi into her room, closing the door softly behind her out of habit. She leaned against the frame for a moment, watching as Azzi flopped down on her bed, her arm draped over her face like she was trying to block out the world.

Paige raised an eyebrow and took a few steps closer. “So… what was all that outside about?”

Azzi groaned, sliding her arm off her face just enough to glare at Paige. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Paige wasn’t having it. She crossed the room and flopped onto the bed beside Azzi, mimicking her position with exaggerated drama. “Oh, come on. You can’t not talk about it. You had some girl yelling because you wouldn’t put out for her. Not really something we can just gloss over.”

Azzi let out a loud sigh, sitting up slightly to look at Paige. “It’s not a big deal. I handled it.”

Paige responds her brow furrowing. “Handled it? I had to step in—”

“No,” Azzi interrupted, her tone light as she fixed Paige with a playful look. “You didn’t have to step in. You wanted to. You came outside with no shirt on and that annoying ass smug look on your face. You knew exactly what you were doing.”

Paige paused, caught off guard for a second before a slow grin spread across her face. “Well, it worked, didn’t it?”

Paige continues, trying to get an answer. “Seriously though, what was all that about?”

Azzi sat up, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. “Seriously, Paige. Drop it.”

Paige didn’t respond right away. Instead, she propped herself up on one elbow, her eyes narrowing as she watched Azzi’s back. She wasn’t stupid. She knew when Azzi was holding something back.

“Azzi,” Paige said softly, her voice calm but firm. Azzi didn’t turn around.

Paige sighed, pushing herself up to sit all the way up on the bed. “You know this whole thing doesn’t work on me, right? You can ignore me all you want, but I’m not dropping this until you tell me the truth.”

Azzi groaned again, this time burying her face in her hands. “You’re so annoying.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard it all before. You tell me everyday,” Paige said with a smirk. “Now spill.”

Azzi muttered something under her breath, her voice muffled by her hands.

“What was that?” Paige asked, leaning closer. “Speak up, can’t hear you.”

Azzi finally dropped her hands and turned halfway toward Paige, her expression a mix of frustration and embarrassment. “I said the girl was upset because we’ve been on, like, three dates, and we haven’t… done anything.”

Paige raised an eyebrow. “Okay, and why haven’t you?”

Azzi shrugged, her shoulders stiff. “Maybe I’m just not into physical stuff. Maybe I’m, like, asexual or something.”

Paige tilted her head, clearly unconvinced. “Azzi.”

Azzi let out a sharp breath, running a hand through her hair. “Why do you even care?”

“Because you’re my best friend, and you’re clearly upset,” Paige said simply. “So stop feeding me bullshit and give me the real answer so I can help you and we can move on with our night.”

Azzi hesitated, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her shorts. She looked down at the floor, her voice dropping to almost a whisper. “I’ve never… kissed a girl.”

Paige blinked, taken aback, but she quickly masked her surprise. She watched Azzi carefully, her teasing demeanor melting away as the weight of Azzi’s words settled between them.

Azzi glanced up at her, half expecting Paige to laugh or make some sarcastic comment. But Paige just looked at her, her expression soft and understanding. “That’s it?” Paige said gently.

Azzi frowned. “What do you mean, ‘that’s it’? It’s not nothing, Paige. It’s… it’s embarrassing.”

Paige shook her head. “It’s not embarrassing. Everyone has a first. Yours just hasn’t happened yet. Big deal.”

Azzi huffed, crossing her arms. “It’s not just that. I feel like… I don’t know, like there’s this expectation, you know? Like I’m supposed to know what I’m doing, and I don’t. And what if—”

“What if it’s no different than kissing a guy?” Paige cut in, her tone light but her gaze steady.

Azzi gave her a sharp look, her cheeks flushing slightly. “It’s not the same.”

“How do you know? You’ve been with guys before,” Paige said with a shrug. “You’ve told me stories.”

Azzi frowned, her arms tightening over her chest. “I guess,” she muttered, though her tone still carried a hint of frustration. “I just really want to get it over with.”

Paige watched her, studying the tension in her shoulders and the way her eyes flicked to the floor, like she was trapped in her own head. After a moment of quiet, Paige shifted, her voice soft but deliberate. “What if I did it?”

Azzi blinked, turning to her with a confused expression. “What?”

Paige’s cheeks turned faintly pink, but she held Azzi’s gaze. “What if I was your first girl kiss?”

Azzi stared at her, a laugh bubbling out of her despite herself. “Okay haha, very funny.”

“I’m not joking.”

The smile dropped from Azzi’s face as she realized Paige was serious. “You’re… wait, are you actually serious right now?”

Paige nodded, her voice calm but firm. “Yeah, I’m serious.”

Azzi stared at her like she’d grown another head. “Ew Paige you were just kissing some random girl not two seconds ago!”

Paige’s jaw tensed slightly, and she shook her head. “No I wasn’t.”

Azzi narrowed her eyes. “Yeah, right.”

“Azzi I’m not lying, ” Paige said, her voice steadier now, as if she needed Azzi to believe her. “I didn’t even touch her. Not even a little.”

Azzi scoffed, crossing her arms. “Sure, Paige.”

Paige sighed, running a hand through her hair. “You know I don’t kiss them,” she added, her tone quieter but firm. “It’s too personal or something like that, I don’t know. I just… I don’t. I never do.”

That revelation hung in the air, and Azzi’s brows furrowed as she processed it. She didn’t know what to make of Paige’s offer—or the fact that it wasn’t a joke.

Paige shifted closer, her knee brushing Azzi’s. “Look,” she started, her voice softer now. “If it’s something you’re really worried about, and you just want to get it over with like you said… Why not with me? No pressure, no judgment. Just… me.”

Azzi opened her mouth to respond but couldn’t find the words. The idea of Paige being her first kiss sent her brain into overdrive. Her heart raced at the thought, but it wasn’t panic—it was something else entirely.

Paige waited patiently, her expression unreadable as Azzi’s mind whirled. “You’re really serious about this,” Azzi finally said, her voice quieter now.

“Yeah,” Paige said simply. “I am.”

Azzi didn’t respond right away. Her gaze lingered on Paige, and for the first time in a long while, she didn’t feel the weight of expectations or pressure. Just Paige, sitting there, offering her something that didn’t feel so scary after all.

“I… I need to think,” Azzi finally said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Take your time,” Paige said, leaning back against the headboard. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The silence in the room became calm as Paige started to casually scroll through her phone. Azzi sat still on the bed, her thoughts clearly churning. Paige didn’t press her, knowing she needed space to process.

After a while, Azzi finally spoke, her voice soft but steady. “Okay.”

Paige glanced up, raising an eyebrow. “Okay?”

Azzi hesitated for a second, then nodded, meeting Paige’s gaze. “I want you to kiss me.”

Paige’s phone slipped from her hand onto the bed. She studied Azzi, making sure she wasn’t joking or saying it out of some sense of obligation. “Are you sure?” she asked, her tone careful and low.

Azzi nodded again, already inching closer, though there was still a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. “Yeah. I’m sure.”

Paige sat up slowly, closing the space between them. She reached out, her hand grazing Azzi’s cheek with a gentleness that made Azzi’s breath hitch. “Okay,” Paige said softly, her voice low and soothing. “Relax. Just go with what feels natural and I’ll follow your lead.”

Azzi nodded again, her determination going against the nerves she couldn’t quite shake. Paige leaned in, her eyes flicking to Azzi’s lips for a brief moment before meeting her gaze. She moved slowly, giving Azzi all the time in the world to pull back, but Azzi stayed rooted, waiting.

When their lips finally met, the kiss started slow and careful, both of them testing the waters, Paige trying to let Azzi take the lead.

But Azzi surprised Paige by responding more boldly than expected. Her lips parted slightly, almost immediately inviting Paige to deepen the kiss. So Paige did, her experience showing as she tilted her head just enough to press closer, her hand slipping from Azzi’s cheek to her jaw.

Azzi leaned into Paige now, her hands moving tentatively at first before one settled lightly on Paige’s exposed waist, pulling her just a bit closer. The kiss shifted slightly, growing a little heated as the unspoken attraction between them slowly bubbled to the surface. Azzi tilted her head to match Paige’s movements, now kind of lost in the moment.

A soft sigh escaped Azzi’s lips, unintentional but unmistakable, and Paige felt it against her mouth like a spark. Paige’s thumb brushed gently along her jawline, her other hand resting lightly against Azzi’s side. Azzi’s grip on Paige’s waist tightened slightly, her confidence building as she pressed into the kiss with more intensity.

It wasn’t just a kiss anymore—it was the culmination of curiosity, both of them leaning into attraction that they hadn’t voiced yet. For a moment, nothing else existed but the warmth of their shared breath and the growing urgency in their movements.

But just as the kiss threatened to spill over into something neither of them were ready to confront, Paige pulled back. Her forehead hovered near Azzi’s as they both caught their breath, hearts racing.

Paige broke the silence first, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Well, one thing’s for sure.”

Azzi blinked, still catching her breath. “What?”

“You’re definitely not asexual,” Paige teased, her voice light but laced with humor.

Azzi’s cheeks turned a deep red, and she groaned, shoving Paige’s shoulder. “Shut up.”

Paige just laughed, the tension breaking instantly as she flopped back onto the bed, grinning at Azzi. “I’m just saying. Someone had to confirm it.”

Azzi rolled her eyes, but instead of a sarcastic remark, she quietly said, “Thank you.” Her voice was soft, almost hesitant, like she wasn’t entirely sure she should be saying it.

Paige tried to play it cool, shrugging as if it was no big deal. “What are best friends for?”

Azzi laughed, the sound light but genuine. “Definitely not that,” she said, shaking her head, a faint smile tugging at her lips.

Paige chuckled, glad the tension seemed to be fading. They slipped back into their usual banter, trading playful remarks like nothing had happened as Azzi explained her date. On the surface, it was as though the kiss hadn’t just happened—but Paige’s mind was far from calm.

Later that night, after she’d returned to her own room, Paige lay on her bed staring up at the ceiling. The darkness of the room felt heavier than usual, pressing down on her as her thoughts raced uncontrollably, tangling into a mess she couldn’t unravel, no matter how hard she tried.

She had never felt like this before. Paige had made it a point in her life not to like anyone—she didn’t have the time, the energy, or even the interest. Relationships weren’t her thing. She thrived on control, on focus, and feelings like this didn’t fit into that.

But now, everything is a mess.

The kiss kept replaying in her mind: the way Azzi had looked at her, the hesitant but undeniable way she had leaned in, and the softness of it all before it had sparked into something more. Paige could still feel the warmth of Azzi’s breath, the subtle press of her lips, she could still taste the strawberry lip gloss Azzi had on her lips.

It wasn’t just a kiss. That was the problem.

She groaned, dragging a hand down her face, frustrated with herself. This wasn’t supposed to happen. She wasn’t supposed to feel this way about anyone, let alone her coined best friend she had just met a few months ago. Paige rolled onto her side, pulling the blanket over her head like it could somehow muffle her thoughts. But the darkness only made it worse. It gave her nothing to distract herself from the reality she didn’t want to face.

Her chest tightened as the realization set in. She liked Azzi. Not casually. Not in a “of course she’s attractive” kind of way. She liked her in a way that felt irreversible, like the ground beneath her had shifted and she was about to fall into a hole she could never get out of.

“Fucking hell,” she muttered to herself. She clenched her jaw, her frustration mounting. How did this happen? When did it start? Paige spent her entire life avoiding exactly this—keeping people at arm’s length, refusing to let anyone get close enough to matter romantically. She’d drawn hard line’s in her mind, and no one had ever been allowed to cross it. And yet here she was, lying awake in her bed, completely consumed by the thought of Azzi.

Her chest continued to tighten, the familiar weight of control slipping from her grasp, for the first time since she was a child. For once she didn’t have a plan and didn’t know how to categorize what she felt. This terrified her.

#pazzi #paige x azzi #pazzi fics

318 notes · View notes

daisymbin · 3 months ago

Note

46. "you doodled hearts in my notebook again." with woozi :’)

ah!!!! so cute!!! thank you for requesting!! 🥰

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fluff prompt #46: "you doodled hearts in my notebook again."

jihoon flipped open his notebook, ready to show the boys the new lyrics he'd been working on. the practice room was its usual chaos—mingyu rummaging through snack bags, chan tapping out a beat on his knee—but they quieted when jihoon cleared his throat.

“alright, listen to this,” he began, but the words caught in his throat when he looked down.

his notebook, usually filled with meticulous handwriting and carefully crafted lyrics, was now decorated with tiny hearts scattered across the margins.

“oh my god,” mingyu gasped, leaning over before jihoon could close the notebook. “again?”

chan burst into laughter, craning his neck to look. “that’s the third time this month, isn’t it? your notebook’s turning into a scrapbook.”

“it’s cute,” mingyu teased, smirking as he leaned back in his chair. “you know she does it because she loves you, right?”

jihoon sighed, snapping the notebook shut. “can we focus on the lyrics?”

chan grinned, nudging mingyu. “i think he likes it, though. look at him blushing.”

“i’m not blushing,” jihoon shot back, his ears burning as he stuffed the notebook into his bag.

mingyu waved him off with a laugh. “whatever you say, loverboy. now, are you going to play us the song, or are we just here for show-and-tell?”

“the song,” jihoon muttered, trying to suppress the small smile tugging at his lips. no matter how much they teased him, he couldn’t deny how those little hearts made him feel.

later that evening, jihoon walked through the front door of your shared apartment, the soft glow of the living room lights welcoming him home. you were on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, flipping through a book. you looked up when you heard him, your face lighting up.

“you’re home,” you light up, setting the book aside. “how was work today?”

jihoon shrugged off his bag and walked over to join you on the couch. he sat beside you, leaning his head against your shoulder as the rest of his body melts against you. he let out a tired sigh, but there was something warm and soft in his expression.

“it was fine,” he said, glancing up at you. after a beat, a small smile crept onto his face. “you doodled hearts in my notebook again.”

your eyes widened, and you immediately covered your mouth to stifle a laugh. “oh no. did the guys see?”

jihoon nodded, the memory still fresh in his mind. “mingyu wouldn’t shut up about it. chan either.”

“i’m sorry,” you said, though you couldn’t help the giggle that escaped. “i didn’t think they’d notice.”

jihoon shook his head, the corners of his mouth twitching. “they notice everything. but it’s fine.”

you raised an eyebrow. “fine? you didn’t hate it?”

he let out a soft chuckle, leaning his head back against the couch. “hate it? no. i mean... it’s a tiny bit embarrassing, sure, but...”

“but what?” you pressed, leaning closer to him.

he glanced at you, his expression softening. “but it’s nice. it makes me think of you while i’m working.”

your cheeks flushed, and you couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face. “so you do like it.”

jihoon rolled his eyes, but the smile didn’t leave his face. “don’t push it.”

“you’re so cute when you’re flustered,” you teased, poking his cheek. “maybe i should add more next time.”

“just don’t cover up my lyrics,” he muttered, though his tone was light.

you let out a laugh, holding out your pinky.

he stared at your pinky for a moment before linking it with his, a small chuckle escaping his lips.

“you know,” he said after a moment, his voice quieter, “those little things you do... they mean a lot. even if mingyu and chan make it their mission to humiliate me over it.”

you leaned your head on his shoulder, your smile softening. “you really think so? i can stop if it makes you uncomfortable.”

jihoon’s eyes widened slightly, and he shook his head quickly. “no, don’t stop. i like it.”

you tilted your head to look at him, surprised by how earnest he sounded. “even if the guys keep teasing you about it?”

he let out a soft chuckle, his fingers brushing against yours. “let them. they can say whatever they want. it doesn’t matter.”

“why not?” you asked quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

jihoon turned his head to meet your gaze, his expression warm and sincere. “because it’s you. and i love everything about you. even your silly little doodles.”

your heart skipped at his words, the quiet affection in his voice making your chest ache in the best way. you smiled, letting your hand slip into his, your fingers intertwining.

“okay,” you murmured, your voice teasing but soft. “i won’t stop, then.”

jihoon smiled back, pressing a light kiss to your temple. “good. because, i dont want you to. & honestly, i think i’d miss them if you did.”

and for a moment, the teasing and chaos of the day faded away, leaving just the two of you in the quiet comfort of home. the hearts you doodled might have been small, but to jihoon, they were reminders of everything he cherished about you—your love, your care, and the way you always managed to brighten his day.

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cod-dump · 2 months ago

Note

Just the idea of Captain MacMillan casually turning up on Price’s base wanting to check up on Price, because that man will forever be a child in his eyes, and instead running into every other possible person.

And every single one of them snitches on Price about something reckless or dangerous he has done since Mac came around the last time. All of them have something different to report on too.

Safe to say, Price received an hour long lecture on his behaviour.

The air was off the moment he arrived on base.

The hair on his arms pricked up and several times there was a shiver that made him shake. He had eyes on him as he walked to his office and by the time he got there he was on edge. Something was screaming at him when he stood in front of his door.

"Oh fuck this," he growled to himself before he opened the door.

"There's the bastard. Welcome back!"

Price froze, eyes widening as he saw fucking Mac sitting in his chair. He stood there at the door long enough for the man to scoff.

"Waiting for permission to enter your office?"

Price cleared his throat and stepped inside, "What are you doing here?"

"Visiting my old stomping grounds. Glad that you have yet to burn it down."

Price fake laughs, dropping his work bag on his desk, "Thought something was off, felt a shift in the air."

It was Mac's turn to laugh, but it was genuine. Retirement had a way of mellowing a bastard like MacMillan. He was already married by the time he made the decision to retire, had two sons. But, as he had joked plenty of times before, he always had to have an eye on the eldest.

"Been here three days."

Price felt his blood run cold, "You've what?"

"Kate has really grown into that boldness quite well. Though she knows now how to hold her tongue."

Of course she's involved. Price could see it in Mac's eyes that he had plenty to say to him. Three days on base while Price was still on leave? He was scared to know what all the boys had said to their "grand-captain".

"First off: An American? Really?"

Price immediately turned on his heel to run out the door. He managed to open the door and step out the office before he ran into a familiar chest. Nik had his mouth open, ready to say something, then he saw Mac. Needless to say he was equally horrified to see the man.

"I still haven't gotten to liking this one!"

Price didn't need to say anything for Nik to agree to retreat with him.

---

"I was expecting a more... immediate response."

"Old man probably locked him in the office and is giving him a ear full."

Soap laughed as Ghost kept his binoculars trained on the building where Price was no doubtedly reliving his younger, more mischievous years. The shades were down but Ghost still watched in hopes of getting a glimpse of something.

Gaz had returned with snacks and Ghost was considering giving it a rest to enjoy some crisps when the front door of the building flung open. Price and Nik running full speed out was everything.

"Get the camera- GET THE FUCKING CAMERA-"

Laswell had a delightful video to watch later, after she had the most hysterical phonecall that she's had with Price in years.

#call of duty #modern warfare #john price #captain macmillan #cod nikolai #kate laswell #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #pricenik #nikprice #ask #thanks for the ask <3 #drabble #ficlet

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gyubakeries · 2 months ago

Text

❆ 𝐠𝐲𝐮𝐛𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 : 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐬! ❆ | 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐮 - 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 <𝟑

❆ 𝑑𝑎𝑦 9: pre-christmas dinner | k.mg

a/n: hi!! welcome to day 9 <333 be prepared to see some chef!mingyu haha :P i also must thank kyii and sousy for brainstorming with me for this fic, and a few others as well. love u guys <3

p.s. it definitely takes much more time to pull off an entire roast chicken, but for the sake of the fic, the process is relatively faster and mingyu is like, the masterchef or something. also im writing this the evening before a major exam and im just as cooked as the first chicken lol.

word count: 1.2k contents: mingyu x gn!reader , established relationship , ceo!mingyu , cooking , theyre gonna roast a chicken for funsies , good chef!mingyu , clumsy helper!reader , fluff , christmas fun , one (1) chicken was ..... cooked too well in this fic , im sorry chicken (or not...) , read to find out why <3

"baby! i'm home!" mingyu calls out, and that's all it takes for you to come out to the living room, only to be met by the sight of your giant of a boyfriend dragging in huge bags.

"you said you were going to buy some ice-cream," you raise an eyebrow at mingyu. "so, either you bought an entire year's worth of cookies 'n cream, or you bought stuff that we didn't need."

"you know how i get at grocery stores, especially the large, gourmet ones," mingyu pouts. "everything looks so good."

"this is exactly why you need to let me buy groceries," you sigh, grabbing one of the bags and starting to empty the contents. "your bank account won't thrive for long."

"please, we both know i have more than enough money to live comfortably," mingyu sasses. you turn away from the pantry, where you were putting away the organic pasta mingyu had bought, to face your boyfriend.

he looks absolutely adorable like this; beanie nearly slipping over his eyes, large figure bundled up in a sweater and crouching in front of the fridge, stuffing two boxes of something in the freezer.

in moments like these, it's almost impossible to imagine mingyu as the CEO of a high-tech company. trying to visualize him in the crisp suits he wears to work feels like a distant dream, especially when at home, he's just the embodiment of a golden retriever, always so soft and loving.

"yeah, i know mr. ceo," you snicker when he plops down on the floor, complaining of a backache because of crouching at a weird angle. "you don't have to flex your money."

"i'm not flexing," mingyu defends himself with wide eyes. "just saying; we could totally quit our jobs and travel the world, and we'd still have enough money to buy your dream house in the countryside of france."

"we'll see about that," you laugh. just as you finish putting all the groceries away, your stomach starts rumbling. "what's for dinner?"

"roast chicken," mingyu hums, and you notice him flitting around the kitchen, gathering spices, sauces, herbs, and lots of other things.

"you're kidding," you deadpan. "you're gonna roast a chicken?"

"yes!" mingyu grins at you, patting a box placed on the counter. "mr. chicken is here. i'm just going to let him marinade for a while before we roast."

"you're insane," you gape at how professional he looks, washing an entire chicken, patting it dry, mixing together a quick marinade, covering the chicken in it and setting it aside in a matter of thirty minutes.

"again, why aren't you a full-time chef?" you ask him. you're both munching on some snacks while he waits for the oven to finish pre-heating and the chicken to rest in the marinade.

"because i only want my baby to eat my cooking," mingyu answers, stealing some of your chips.

"you've literally cooked for all our friends."

"okay, my baby and our friends."

"and what about our future children? won't you cook for them?" you tease, and as usual, mingyu whines.

"y/n, you know what i meant," he sulks. "i didn't want to turn something i love doing into a profession that i may end up hating."

"well, i'm lucky to have experienced your amazing cooking skills," you remark, and mingyu rolls his eyes affectionately. "if you're trying to sweet talk me into giving you the last slice of cheesecake in the fridge, it's not gonna work."

"aw man," you frown, and mingyu presses a kiss to your cheek as compensation. as if on cue, the oven's timer dings, and mingyu springs into action. he takes the chicken out of the fridge, and you watch in awe as he preps a baking tray, places the chicken in it, and puts it in the oven.

he finally finishes fiddling with the settings of the oven and comes over to you, expression serious.

"babe, i have an online meeting right now. the chicken's gonna be in for an hour. can you keep an eye out for when the oven timer rings? i should be done by then, but if i'm not, just carefully take it out of the oven and set it on the counter, okay?"

"got it, chef," you mock salute, and he smiles, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. "stay alert okay? you do remember what happened last time with the cake, right?" mingyu teases.

"i got distracted by the show! it could happen to anyone," you cross your arms.

"i know, but i don't want a repeat of that," mingyu chuckles. "cleaning burnt cake wasn't exactly fun."

"i promise, gyu, i'll be extra attentive this time," you assure him, and he heads into the study for his online meeting.

to no one's surprise, you completely miss the timer.

your best friend had called you fifteen minutes after the chicken had started cooking, and what was supposed to be a five minute call regarding what dress your friend should wear to her boyfriend's office party, turned into more than an hour of gossiping about your respective office colleagues.

you only notice something is wrong when you smell something burning, and it hits you then.

the chicken.

apparently, mingyu too had smelled the burning, because he's already grabbing the tray out of the oven and placing it on the counter.

the chicken is burnt, and there's no way of salvaging it.

"min, i'm sorry-" you gasp, mortified by your mistake. "i swear i was trying to-"

"it's okay," mingyu shakes his head, setting the tray down in the sink, leaving the disaster of a roast chicken to cool before he attempts to scrape it off the tray. "i kinda thought this may happen, so i got reinforcements."

you watch with furrowed eyebrows as mingyu walks over to the fridge and pulls out another box, revealing yet another whole chicken.

the entire situation seems absurd, and all you can say is, "were they twins??"

mingyu bursts into laughter, and so do you. it's hilarious seeing his six foot-something figure double over as he nearly falls to the ground because of how hard he's laughing.

"babe, you're so silly," he wheezes, trying to catch his breath. "i just got a backup chicken, in case something went wrong with the first one."

"and you didn't bother to check if they were from the same family?" you gasp in mock offense.

"my bad," he raises his arms in surrender. "in my defense, the burnt one kinda looked like this one's cheating ex, which is why it has to go in the trash."

"hm, i'll allow it then," you nod, face serious, as if you both weren't making up ridiculous stories about chickens of all things.

"anyways, now, all you have to do is sit back, while i cook this one," mingyu instructs you.

"it was a mistake," you pout, crossing your arms and leaning against the kitchen counter. mingyu crosses over to you and pecks your lips. "i know it was baby, and it's okay. you can help me with the marinade this time, okay?"

(the way your eyes lit up in joy makes mingyu feel like he'd be okay with any food burning, as long as it gets you this happy to help him redo it.

god, he'd buy you all the chickens in the world, just to see you like this.)

- fin.

divider made by @bernardsbendystraws !

main taglist: @lecheugo @min-imum @sousydive @livelaughloveseventeen @unlikelysublimekryptonite

@theidontknowmehn @shinwonderful @baseball-dokyeom @wonuwrites @hearts4hee

@t-102 @gyuguys @grapejuicelh @aaa-sia @cixrosie

series taglist in comments!

comment on this post to be tagged on the upcoming fics!

head to the series masterlist - here <3

head to the masterlist for more!

#gyubakeries <3 #mansaenetwork #seventeen #seventeen fluff #seventeen imagines #seventeen drabbles #seventeen x reader #svt #svt fluff #svt imagines #svt drabbles #svt x reader #mingyu #kim mingyu #mingyu imagines #mingyu drabbles #mingyu fluff #mingyu x reader

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jaemotion · 7 months ago

Text

been a while — njm (teaser)

pairing ⇢ photographer!jaemin x model!reader

summary ⇢ avoiding Jaemin proved to be a difficult challenge because here you are, opening your doors for him when he comes knocking after you declined the invitation to his very first exhibit.

genre/au ⇢ smut, angst, fluff? former ??? or?

rating & word count ⇢ 18+ | 1k+

warnings ⇢ mentions of sex (full & detailed warnings will be in the full fic)

a/n: it has indeed been a while lmao 💀 anyways, happiest 24th to the love of my love. my jaem, my nana on gawd he looked too good during this live i just had to 😩

the incessant knocking forces you to open the door, ready to tell whoever's behind off but he’s carrying a furball in one arm and another in a small carrier bag.

it washed away your annoyance at once.

“hi, sorry i had to bring them with me”

“didn’t you come from the dorms?” you query, finding Jaemin's sudden appearance here suspicious. he knows you love his cats and could be bringing them here just to lure you.

you tried to ignore how good Jaemin looked, the tight black shirt hugging his frame but your eyes were pulled to the dangling bracelet on his wrist.

the one you bought for him months ago as a gift.

“yeah but you haven’t seen them in ages”

whose fault is that?

“pictures or videos would’ve been enough” you cut him off before he could reply, though your eyes are already set on one of the cats.

they're just too adorable for you to ignore.

jaemin finds it amusing how you’re doing your best to repel him and his babies when he knows your fondness for his precious pets.

“they might’ve missed you too” he turns his body slightly, showing another furball inside a cat backpack so you immediately take the cat on his arm into yours. he comes in, dropping off both bags on the floor before facing you.

“did you eat already?”

you're aware of his busy schedule today and besides-

“i ate kimbap in the car on the way here”

the mere mention of that specific snack sparks your late night memories with Jaemin. it's your go-to one during night drives with, of course, mainly fucking and then eating whatever you both are craving after while stargazing.

you knew that Jaemin notices you reminiscing those memories. evident with the small curl of the side of his lips as he takes one cat back in his arms.

“did you?” his voice snaps you and you nod. before the absolute awkwardness begins between you, the fluffy cat in his arms meows and reaches for you.

“awee come here~” you scoop the cat from Jaemin’s arms, ignoring the spark you feel when your skin touches one another.

“looks like Luke missed you a lot” he chuckles with that raspy voice of his as he unloads Luna and Lucy from their cat bags.

"he sure does" you parrot Jaemin's laugh, cooing at the furball in your arms.

"not as much as me though"

your smile drops but it didn't affect Jaemin at all. if not, it seems to encourage him to fulfill whatever he's here for tonight. he situates himself comfortably on your couch after settling the cats on the floor. you sat beside him with Luke not interested in leaving your arms. eventually, the cat joined his sisters after Jaemin set the TV into one of those dog channels.

"they really love it, no?" you muse, watching his cats fondly. you're still avoiding him but thankfully they've behaved so now he can focus on you.

part of why Jaemin's here was because he wanted to talk to you in person. you didn't respond when he sent an invitation for his exhibition and his messages after that. it's his first one so it means a lot to him and he wanted you to be there.

so Jaemin had to pay you a visit which he hasn't done in a while. maybe that was the reason. or maybe you were just very busy like he is. you were already dressed earlier when you welcomed him so it was a miracle that you even let him in.

the thing is you did. you went to see what it's like since Jaemin's been talking about it for a while. he hasn't really talked to you in months so you were apprehensive in accepting when you got the formal invitation. you've had reasons but you managed to take a peek which is a mistake cause one of his friends did see you.

he thankfully didn't know that you did and that's because you've bribed Chenle to not tell anyone else. you thought you succeeded but the prospect of Jaemin coming here after was something that passed through your mind.

you were even planning to meet up with Jeno tonight to catch up. with the both of you being models, schedules are tight though sometimes you see each other during photoshoots and after. you only did have time when Jaemin stopped talking to you.

“were you planning to leaving earlier?” he turns to you after you got back from your room, now changed in your nightwear.

“yeah to meet Jeno” you reply, wanting to see Jaemin’s reaction to you meeting his friend this late at night. he was eyeing you up and down but soon as he heard his friend's name, he looked away. even when he tried to hide it, the shock, confusion, and something else was there.

“he’s not at the dorms” he’s calm. too calm than he should be. maybe you seeing Jeno doesn’t really matter to him at all.

“then where?”

“rina’s”

“oh” you couldn’t stop the disappointment seeping into your tone.

“didn’t tell you or anything?” his tone leaves you no idea if he's mocking you or not.

“no”

“thought you knew already”

“well, that perfectly explains why you’re best friends doesn’t it?”

your walls broke no matter how hard you tried to act nonchalant about this. about Jeno bailing on you; about Jaemin coming here and him finding out. it should be expected that in your line of work, these instances happen. you often do the same with people you meet but you just didn't think Jaemin would be the one to give you the same treatment.

he scrambles right away after hearing your tone, following you when you turn your back at him and head towards your kitchen. you haven't told him to back off yet, not that he's worried since you opened your doors to him but he couldn't take any more risks.

"can we talk?" he starts, sounding unsure for the first time and it ignited your curiosity. he's naturally confident so you want to see how far he'll adjust just to have this talk with you.

"10 seconds" you challenge.

"what"

"do anything you want with me for 10 seconds"

e/n: i had work today so i couldn't finish this one on time 😭

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hypnobeauty · 28 days ago

Text

a chance encounter - a cho hyun-ju x reader fic (part 8)

summary: a story about how you and hyun-ju met and the following years of your relationship. masterlist cw: no use of y/n, reader is afab, fluff, hurt/comfort, slow burn, pre-squid game, slice of life, domesticity, very wonky timeline. a/n: thanks for the answers to my questions last chapter! i have decided what to do, but i'll keep it a secret for now lol this chapter is just a bunch of snippets i've written and couldn't fit anywhere else in the story, so it became... this! in my head, you two first met in jan 22, and the games happened in oct/nov 24, so imagine these things happened during this time period. and again, thank you for all the positive response, it makes my heart warm to see you enjoy my silly story! as usual, enjoy xx comments are always welcome (i’ll definitely take longer to post now since my vacation is officially over, one minute of silence please) (song inspo: the land & the sea - hannah & maggie) taglist: @strayteez3staner @dekiruxxx @jeongteen @sunnysurvives @3leni @etta-huracan @honeyhyunju @basoressia @antisocial-aina @googie-jeon @christinamadsen @deernat @vvlwvvy

part 8. love, unrushed and unfolding

there was no grand moment when you and hyun-ju officially became girlfriends. no nervous confession, no neatly rehearsed lines. it just happened, like slipping into warm water, natural and inevitable. one day, while running errands together, you were at the grocery store, arms full of snacks, when ha-neul called.

"hey, where are you?"

"mart," you said, wedging your phone between your ear and shoulder as you grabbed a bag of tangerines. "hyun-ju’s making dinner, and i got stuck with shopping duty."

you didn’t think anything of it at first, but ha-neul caught on immediately.

"hyun-ju’s making dinner? cute. look at my girl playing house with her girlfriend."

the word landed like a pebble in water—small, but rippling outward. you froze for half a second, then stole a glance at hyun-ju, who was a few feet away, inspecting a carton of eggs with a level of seriousness that made you fond.

"yeah, well," you said, voice casual. "she’s the better cook. i just follow orders."

"uh-huh," ha-neul drawled. "and does your girlfriend know you’re completely whipped?"

you rolled your eyes and hung up, but the word stayed lodged in your brain. that night, when hyun-ju was stirring a pot by the stove, you leaned against the counter and said it out loud.

"so, i called you my girlfriend today."

she didn’t stop stirring, didn’t react immediately. then, without looking at you, she said, "yeah?"

"yeah."

finally, she glanced up, lips twitching like she was holding back a smile. "and?"

"and… i think i like it."

she hummed, nodding as if considering it. then she set the spoon down, stepped closer, and hooked a finger into one of your belt loops, tugging you toward her.

"good," she murmured against your lips. "because i’ve been calling you mine in my head for a while now."

and just like that, it was settled. no ceremony, no discussion. just two people who had already chosen each other in every way that mattered.

it became clear that you were hers, and she was yours, in the little things. how she always reached for your hand in the car, even if it was just resting on the gear shift. how you always saved the last bite of your food for her, even when you didn’t want to. how she let you steal her hoodies, even the ones she pretended were off-limits. and then there were the moments that felt bigger, like the time she gave you the locket.

it was your birthday, and hyun-ju refused to let you lift a single finger the entire day. she cooked breakfast, surprised you with an impromptu and fast trip, and insisted on carrying everything—even the small coffee you got on the way to the beach.

"aein, give it," she said, holding out a hand as you walked down the shore.

"it’s a cup of coffee, hyun-ju, not a ten-kilo weight."

"doesn’t matter. birthday rule."

you rolled your eyes but handed it over because she looked so damn pleased with herself. the beach was quiet, waves rolling in and out in a lazy rhythm, the sky painted in hues of gold and soft lavender. hyun-ju shifted beside you, pulling something from the pocket of her windbreaker. she hesitated for a second—just a second—then turned to you and said, "here."

she pressed a small black box into your palm, fingers warm against yours. you blinked at it, surprised. "what’s this?"

"your present," she said simply, but her voice was softer than usual, careful in a way that made your chest tighten. you opened the box, and the moment you saw what was inside, the world tilted just slightly.

a gold heart-shaped locket rested against the dark velvet lining, gleaming under the fading sunlight. it was simple, delicate. you carefully pried it open, and there, tucked inside, were two tiny photos—one of hyun-ju, the other of you. your fingers tightened around the locket, a rush of warmth filling your chest. you swallowed, trying to steady yourself.

"you… put our pictures in here?" you asked, voice barely above a whisper.

hyun-ju exhaled a small, nervous laugh. "yeah."

"hyun-ju—"

"don’t make it a big deal," she muttered, rubbing the back of her neck. "i just… i wanted you to have something of me. with you. always. "

“and i’d have mine too," she says, pulling out a matching locket from beneath her collar.

that’s when you notice she’s been wearing hers this whole time.

you stared at her, at the way her eyes stayed fixed on the locket in your hands, like she was afraid of what she’d see in your face. like she was already bracing for you to tease her about it. you didn’t. instead, you shifted closer, cupping her cheek and tilting her face toward you.

"it is a big deal," you said softly. "and i love it."

her eyes flickered, lips parting slightly. you pressed a gentle kiss to her lips, slow and lingering, like an unspoken thank you. when you pulled away, she exhaled, resting her forehead against yours for a moment before reaching out to take the locket from your hands.

"let me," she murmured. you turned around, sweeping your hair aside as she clasped it around your neck. the chain was cool against your skin, but the locket itself felt warm—like it belonged there. you touched it lightly, turning back to face her. she watched you, eyes steady, the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

"looks good on you," she said.

you grinned. "yeah?"

"yeah."

you leaned in, brushing your nose against hers. "i’ll keep it forever, you know."

hyun-ju’s fingers ghosted over your collarbone, resting just above the locket. "i know."

and in that moment, you knew—without question—that she meant it. the weight of it against your chest became a quiet, constant reminder, not just of her, but of everything you were building together. it was easy to get lost in the warmth of it, in the quiet security of knowing that, no matter what, you had each other. the city stretched beyond the shore, distant and unconcerned, but right here, with her, the world felt small, safe, and just enough.

you were staying in a hotel for the night, to rest before the drive back in the morning. the night was still, the kind of deep quiet that only comes when the world outside has long settled, leaving just the two of you in the dim glow of the bedside lamp. the soft hum of the ocean filtered through the window, distant enough to feel unreal. you were both tangled together, half-awake, neither of you willing to fully succumb to sleep yet.

hyun-ju’s fingers traced slow, absentminded circles on your back. you had your head on her chest, her heartbeat steady beneath your ear, grounding you in a way nothing else ever had. she smelled like warmth, like safety. like home.

your eyes fluttered closed as you exhaled, completely at ease. her other hand rested in your hair, playing with the strands, twirling them between her fingers. you could tell she was tired—her touches were lazy, unfocused, like she wasn’t thinking about it, just feeling you. you liked when she was like this, when she let herself be soft with you.

"you're quiet," she murmured, her voice low, a little hoarse from exhaustion.

you hummed in response, nuzzling closer. "just thinking."

"about what?"

you didn’t mean to say it. you didn’t plan for it. but it slipped out, as natural as breathing.

"i love you, hyun-ju."

her fingers froze in your hair. you felt the sharp inhale she took, the way her chest rose a little too quickly beneath you. her heartbeat had quickened.

your own breath hitched. maybe it was too soon. maybe you had ruined something—

but then her hands were on your face, tilting you up to look at her.

she looked stunned, lips slightly parted, brows lifted like she couldn’t quite believe what she just heard. and then, slowly, her expression softened. her eyes—deep brown and endless—searched yours like she was committing this moment to memory.

and then she smiled. that smile, the real one, the one that melted you every time.

"i love you too."

the words came out barely above a whisper, but you felt them everywhere. before you could respond, she was already pulling you in, arms locking around you, pressing her forehead to yours. her breath trembled as she exhaled, and you realized she’d been holding it in.

you smiled against her, cupped her jaw as you kissed her—slow and deep, like trying to pour everything you felt into her, trying to tell her that this was real, that you meant it, that she didn’t have to be afraid.

she didn’t say much after that. she didn’t need to. she just pulled you into her arms again, held you against her chest, her lips pressed to the crown of your head as her fingers traced gentle patterns on your back.

neither of you spoke for a long time. just the sound of your breaths, your heartbeats, intertwined and steady.

and then, as you were drifting off, she whispered it again. "i love you."

just to make sure you knew.

the first time hyun-ju told you about thailand, it was a slow evening, one of those where neither of you wanted to say goodbye yet, so you found yourselves in the fluorescent glow of a convenience store. the air was thick with the smell of warm broth from the instant ramen station, the low hum of a refrigerator filling the silence as the two of you waited for your onigiri to heat up in the microwave.

"thailand has some of the best surgeons in the world for gender-affirming surgery," she had said then, like it was an idle thought, a passing remark.

you glanced up from your juice selection, tilting your head. "yeah?"

she nodded, taking a slow sip of her strawberry milk. "a friend of mine from the support group, jaidee, she’s thai. she told me all about it–her surgery. people from all over the world go there. the doctors are some of the best, and it’s still expensive, but not as much as here."

you closed the fridge door and leaned against it, watching her. there was something careful in the way she spoke, like she was testing the waters, unsure if she should let herself hope.

"i thought insurance covered some of it here?" you asked.

hyun-ju scoffed, shaking her head. "barely. and even then, you have to jump through a million hoops. you have to prove you're 'serious enough,' that it won’t be a 'regretful decision.' they make you wait, make you beg for something that should already be yours." she sighed, stirring the ice in her cup with her straw. "even if i could qualify for aid, i'd still have to pay most of it on my own. and i don’t exactly have that kind of money lying around."

there was something in her voice—something tired. you hated that she had to carry this weight, that something so personal, so necessary, had to be treated like a privilege she had to earn.

"is that where you want to go?" you asked softly.

she hesitated, then nodded. "yeah. when i can afford it."

something about the way she said it made your chest ache.

"i have money saved up," you offered. "i could—"

"no," she interrupted gently, shaking her head before you could finish. "i can't ask that of you."

"you’re not asking, i’m offering."

she smiled, small but warm. "i know. but this is something i need to do for myself."

you understood, even if part of you wished she’d let you carry some of the burden.

so instead, you squeezed her hand and said, "well, when the time comes, i’m coming with you. you don’t even have to ask."

that was when she laughed, something bright and unguarded. "of course you are. it was never a doubt"

and now, months later, that conversation echoed in your mind as you stood outside her apartment, an a3 folder tucked under your arm.

hyun-ju had been sick all day, a minor flu keeping her in bed, her texts throughout the afternoon slow and pitiful—“i think i’m dying.” “i hate everything.” “the only thing keeping me alive is the hope of your love.”

you laughed at your phone every time she sent something dramatic, teasing her relentlessly, but a part of you did feel bad that you couldn’t be there earlier. so, you decided to bring her something to lift her spirits.

when she answered the door, wrapped in a thick hoodie, her hair still slightly damp from a shower, she blinked at the folder in your hands.

"what’s that?" she asked, voice scratchy.

you leaned in to kiss her, only for her to lean back immediately. "i don’t want to give you my virus, aein!"

you laughed, nudging her inside. "fine, fine. but come sit with me, we’re making something."

she followed you to the living room, watching as you spread out the contents of the folder—paper, markers, scissors, glue, magazines, and printed images.

"a vision board?" she asked, tilting her head.

"yep." you arranged the materials with the same focus you used when planning ad campaigns at work. "we make them all the time at the agency. it’s basically a collage of images and words representing a project–-in our case, a goal. so today, we’re making a thailand vision board."

hyun-ju blinked at you, then at the scattered materials. "you're really serious about this."

"of course i am." you cut out a small photo of a bangkok skyline and placed it in the center of the board. "it’s your dream. and we’re going to make it happen."

you didn’t notice at first, too focused on arranging the pictures, but when you finally glanced up, hyun-ju was staring at you, something unreadable in her expression.

"what?" you asked, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious.

she shook her head with a soft chuckle. "nothing. you’re just… too cute when you get all excited."

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t fight the warmth in your chest. "shut up and help me cut these."

for the next hour, the two of you worked side by side. you printed out images, flipped through old magazines, and carefully glued everything onto a large sheet of paper. there was a map of thailand, images of white sand beaches, street food stalls, and bustling city streets. you glued an old 1,000 won bill to the bottom corner—"for good luck," you said. hyun-ju found the phrase "new beginnings" in a magazine and placed it near the center, close to a selfie of you two. you added tiny heart stickers, while she carefully placed the trans and lesbian pride flags in the corners.

and right in the middle, in bold marker, you wrote thailand.

when it was done, you both sat back, admiring the finished board.

"it’s perfect," hyun-ju murmured.

you grinned. "we’re perfect."

she laughed, shaking her head, but you could tell she was touched.

her fingers traced over the edges of the board, her smile softening. "this means a lot."

you reached for her hand, squeezing gently. "we’re really going to do this, hyun-ju. one day, we’ll be standing there for real, looking at the actual thing."

she exhaled, pressing her forehead to yours, eyes fluttering shut. "yeah," she whispered. "one day."

you hung the board on the living room wall, right beside her taekwondo belts, where it would be impossible to ignore. every time she saw it, she’d be reminded: this dream wasn’t just hers anymore.

it was yours, too.

but being with hyun-ju wasn’t always effortless. in the beginning, she kept parts of herself tucked away, hesitant to voice her feelings or desires. she had a habit of retreating, of swallowing words before they could fully form. it wasn’t that she didn’t care—you knew she did—but sometimes, it felt like she was afraid to ask for too much. you remember the first real fight you ever had, just a month into your relationship, and how it all started because of this—because you wanted openness, and she wasn’t sure how to give it yet.

hyun-ju has always been touchy with you. in your apartment, in her apartment, curled up on the couch, wrapped around you in bed—her hands are a constant presence, tucking your hair behind your ear, tracing slow circles on your wrist, squeezing your knee when she laughs. she holds you like it's instinct, like letting go isn’t an option.

but outside, it’s different.

she walks beside you but doesn’t touch you. when you try to loop your arm through hers, she shifts, just slightly, so the moment passes unnoticed. when you reach for her hand, she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, busies herself adjusting her sleeves. it’s subtle, almost imperceptible, but once you notice it, you can’t unsee it.

at first, you tell yourself it’s just a habit. maybe she’s distracted. maybe she doesn’t even realize she’s doing it. but then weeks pass, and you see the pattern—the careful space she leaves between you, the way she subtly angles her body away in public, the contrast of how freely she touches you when no one else is around.

and it starts to eat at you.

you don’t want to care. you don’t want this to feel like a rejection. but the inconsistency claws at your chest, whispering things you don’t want to believe. she’s ashamed of you. she doesn’t want people to know.

you try not to think about it. until you can’t anymore.

it happens on a quiet evening, walking back from a late dinner. the streets aren’t crowded, the air is cool, and the city hums around you. it’s one of those moments that should be easy—just the two of you, walking home, full and content.

you reach for her hand. and like always, she finds a way to avoid it; she scratches her arm, pretends to fix the sleeve of her jacket, tucks her fingers into her pocket.

that’s it.

"are you ashamed of me?"

the words leave your mouth before you can stop them. they hang between you, sharp and heavy, cutting through the night air.

hyun-ju stops walking.

"what?" her voice is quiet, careful, like she misheard you and hopes you won’t repeat it.

"you heard me." you turn to face her fully, arms crossed, trying to keep your voice steady even though your chest feels tight. "are you ashamed of me?"

her brows furrow. "what are you talking about?"

you laugh, but it’s hollow. "i mean, it’s obvious, right? you won’t even hold my hand in public. you keep your distance like—like you don’t want anyone to know we’re together."

hyun-ju flinches, just barely, but enough.

"that’s not true," she says, but there’s something fragile in her voice, something unsure.

"then what is it?" you press. "because i’ve been nothing but honest with you. you know how hard it was for me to come to terms with this, to finally let go of all the shit i was taught about what my life was supposed to look like. and now i just— i want to live, hyun-ju. i want to hold my girlfriend’s hand. i don’t want to have to wonder if she’s embarrassed by me."

her jaw tightens, her eyes dart away. she’s silent for a moment, then she exhales sharply, like she's been holding something in.

"it’s not you," she says finally. "it’s never been you."

"then what?" you demand, frustration creeping into your voice. "because it sure as hell feels like it’s me."

hyun-ju exhaled shakily, her hands gripping the edge of the table. “because i’m afraid,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

the words knock the wind out of you.

“afraid of what?”

hyun-ju looks away, crossing her arms over her chest. "you don’t know what it’s like," she says firmly. "to have people glare at you just for existing. to hear whispers, to feel their eyes on you like you don’t belong. and sometimes, it’s worse than that." she pauses, as if debating whether to continue, then finally says, "i’ve been grabbed before. shoved. just for being me .i’ve seen what happens to girls like me when the wrong person decides to take it further. and i can handle that—i’ve always been able to handle it. but you…” her voice cracked, and she looked away. “you’re not like me. you shouldn’t have to deal with that.”"

your heart clenches.

she lifts her gaze to yours, and her eyes are burning, raw with something you recognize as fear and fury tangled together. "and you— you’re…" she exhales sharply. "you’re strong, but you’re not trained for that. what if someone tries something? what if i can’t stop them in time?"

she rubs her face, looking exhausted. "it’s not that i don’t want to hold your hand. i just— i don’t know how to stop being afraid."

the anger drains from your body, leaving only aching frustration and something softer, something unbearably tender.

you take a step closer. "i get it," you say, voice gentler now. "i do. and i know it’s different for you. but i don’t want to live my life in fear. i’ve already spent too much time doing that. i don’t care what people think anymore. i just want to be with you."

she looks at you, something unreadable in her eyes.

"you don’t have to prove anything," you continue. "i’m not asking you to throw yourself into danger. but i- i want to hold your hand, hyun-ju. that’s all. just… let me hold your hand."

she nods, just once. "i’ll try."

and she does.

the next time you go out, she intertwines her fingers with yours. it’s hesitant at first, light, as if she’s testing the weight of it. then she squeezes your hand properly, and warmth spreads through you. but then, two old women pass by, their expressions twisting in distaste. hyun-ju drops your hand immediately.

another time, a man mutters something disgusting under his breath as he walks by, and again, she pulls away. both times, you fight. not because she let go, but because she keeps trying and then stopping, keeps giving you hope and then snatching it away.

the third time, you refused to let go.

hyun-ju’s hand was in yours as you walked through the busy streets, her palm damp with sweat. you could feel the tension in her grip, the way her fingers twitched as if she wanted to pull away. but you held on tighter. when she glanced at you, her expression a mix of fear and determination, you gave her a small, reassuring smile.

by the time you reached your car, her breath was labored, her shoulders rising and falling as if she’d just run a marathon.

“i didn’t let go,” she said, her voice shaky but triumphant.

“you didn’t,” you said, your chest swelling with pride.

hyun-ju exhaled, a small, tentative smile spreading across her face. “it was hard, but… it felt good. being with you like that.”

you reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “you don’t have to do it all at once. just take it one step at a time. i’m not going anywhere.”

ha-neul’s apartment looked like something straight out of a lifestyle magazine—floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city, sleek modern furniture, a dining table that seated twelve despite the fact that she lived alone. the kind of space designed for entertaining, and she loved to entertain. her dinner parties had become something of a tradition in your friend group, always featuring a private chef, good wine, and an excuse to indulge in both food and conversation. the guest list was carefully curated—never too big, always people she trusted to create the perfect balance between fun and relaxed.

this time, you wanted hyun-ju to be there.

when you first brought it up, she hesitated, shifting uncomfortably on your couch. "i don’t know… your friends might not be comfortable with me there."

"hyun-ju, they’re my closest friends," you reassured her, squeezing her knee. "they know about us, and they’re the most open-minded people i know. it’s not going to be weird."

she still seemed unsure, fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve. "it’s just… i don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable."

you sighed, tilting your head at her. "aein, you’re not an outsider. you’re my girlfriend. i want them to know you."

that word—girlfriend—made something soften in her expression. she looked at you for a long moment before exhaling, nodding once. "okay," she said. "i’ll go."

you arrived at ha-neul’s place right on time, greeted instantly by the scent of something buttery and rich wafting from the open kitchen, where a chef was busy plating appetizers. soft jazz played in the background, and the apartment was already buzzing with chatter and laughter from the small group scattered around the living space. ha-neul spotted you from across the room, raising a glass of white wine in greeting. "my favorite couple has arrived!"

hyun-ju tensed slightly at the attention, but you simply rolled your eyes and guided her further inside.

"stop embarrassing me five seconds after i walk through the door," you muttered through a smile, and ha-neul grinned.

"no promises. now, introduce me properly before i steal your girlfriend away."

hyun-ju chuckled at that, and you relaxed.

the introductions went smoothly—hyun-ju’s natural charm quickly melting away any lingering apprehension. by the time everyone sat down at the long dining table, the initial stiffness had disappeared. the conversation flowed effortlessly, moving from topic to topic. ha-neul and you remembered the time a ridiculous client who demanded fifteen logo variations before going with the first one she was shown. one of your coworkers, ji-won, admitted he had fallen asleep on a zoom call that morning, only to jolt awake when his name was called.

"did you play it off?" ha-neul asked, smirking over her wine glass.

ji-won groaned. "i tried, but there’s security footage. my manager literally sent me a screenshot of my drooling face."

laughter rippled around the table, hyun-ju included. she had been quiet at first, mostly listening, but now she was leaning in, engaged in the conversation.

"i fell asleep standing once," she admitted, making everyone turn to her in surprise.

"no way," ha-neul said, intrigued. "how?"

hyun-ju shrugged, a small grin tugging at her lips. "during a night drill in the army. we were in formation, waiting for the officer’s orders, and i guess i just… blacked out for a second. next thing i knew, someone was shaking me awake."

"wait, wait—so you were literally upright? just unconscious?" ji-won asked, eyes wide.

"yup," hyun-ju confirmed.

"that’s a new level of exhaustion. i’m impressed."

the night unfolded in a haze of stories, effortless laughter, and wine glasses that never seemed to stay empty for long. by the time dessert was served, hyun-ju had fully settled in, her usual guardedness replaced by easy amusement. she chuckled when another friend enthusiastically showcased their never-ending repertoire of k-pop choreography and outright laughed at your attempt to belt out a duet with ha-neul, shaking her head at the dramatic high notes you two definitely couldn't reach. at some point, beneath the table, your fingers brushed against hers. you gave her hand a gentle squeeze, and without hesitation, she squeezed back.

by the end of the night, ha-neul pulled you aside before you left and whispered, "i like her. you better not mess this up," you just smiled.

"i don’t plan to," you replied.

the next morning, as you sat at your desk, sipping coffee and scrolling through the group chat, when a notification popped up. a photo from the dinner party, everyone laughing, glasses raised. you and hyun-ju were seated close, your arm looped around hers, your head tilted slightly against her shoulder. you loved the photo. it was warm, real, a snapshot of a night you’d remember.

then a message from your boss: who’s the new girl?

you quickly replied, that’s my girlfriend.

your heart pounded as you sent it. it wasn’t that you were ashamed—never that. but there was something unnerving about seeing it stated so plainly in a professional space. you weren’t sure if it was anxiety or anticipation, but you felt it settle deep in your chest.

later that day, you were called into your boss’s office. the door was slightly ajar when you arrived, the faint hum of the air conditioner filling the quiet space. you knocked lightly, and she looked up from her desk, offering a small smile.

“come in,” she said, gesturing to the chair across from her.

you stepped inside, your stomach twisting slightly. you’d been replaying the events of the dinner party in your head all morning, wondering if this meeting was about the photo.

your boss folded her hands on the desk, her expression kind but cautious. “thanks for coming by. i just wanted to have a quick chat.”

you nodded, keeping your face neutral. “of course. what’s on your mind?”

she hesitated for a moment, then offered a small, apologetic smile. “i saw the photo from the dinner party last night. it looked like a great time—everyone seemed so relaxed and happy.”

“it was,” you said, your voice steady. “it was nice to spend time with everyone outside of work.”

her smile lingered, but there was a hint of something else behind it—concern, perhaps. “you mentioned that the woman sitting next to you is your girlfriend?”

your chest tightened slightly, but you nodded. “yes, that’s hyun-ju.”

she paused, her expression softening further. “first of all, let me say that i’m so happy for you. it’s clear from the photo that you two care about each other a lot, and that’s wonderful to see.”

“thank you,” you said, your voice quieter now.

she paused, her lips pressing together briefly before she spoke again. “i want to start by saying that i respect your personal life, and it’s not my place to comment on who you date. you’re an excellent employee, and that’s what matters to me.”

you exhaled a small breath of relief, but you could tell there was more.

“that being said,” she continued, her tone careful, “i feel like it’s my responsibility to… make sure you’re aware of how this could be perceived by others. not here, of course—our agency is very open-minded, and everyone i’ve spoken to has nothing but respect for you. but outside of this bubble, in the broader professional world, things can still be… challenging.”

you stiffened slightly, your hands gripping the edge of the chair. “challenging how?”

she sighed, her fingers drumming lightly against the desk. “you know how things are in korea. while there’s been progress in recent years, there’s still a lot of stigma around lgbtq relationships. some clients, some partners we work with… they might not share the same level of acceptance. and i worry that if word gets out, it could complicate things for you.”

you felt your stomach twist, the weight of her words settling over you like a heavy blanket. “are you saying this could be a problem?”

she sighed, her fingers drumming lightly against the desk. “not here, no. your colleagues respect you, and your work speaks for itself. but with clients… it’s hard to say. there are still people who hold outdated views, and sometimes they let those views influence their decisions, even if it has nothing to do with the work itself.”

you frowned, leaning forward slightly. “has that happened before? has a client ever withdrawn a contract because of something like this?”

she hesitated, her lips pressing together briefly before she nodded. “it’s rare, but yes, it has happened. not often, and not always for the reasons you’d expect. but i’ve seen clients make excuses, find ways to back out of deals, and it’s hard not to notice the pattern when it happens.”

her honesty stung, even though you’d expected it. “and you think that could happen to me?”

“i don’t know,” she admitted, her voice soft. “your portfolio is incredible, and your work ethic is unmatched. but sometimes, people don’t see that. they only see what they want to see.”

you leaned back in your chair, your chest tightening further. “i’ve worked so hard to get here,” you said quietly. “i’ve put everything into this job. and now you’re telling me that it might not matter because of who i love?”

her eyes softened, and she shook her head. “i’m not saying it doesn’t matter. it matters so much. and it’s not fair that you even have to think about this. i just want you to be aware of the risks so you’re not blindsided if something does happen.”

you looked down at your hands, your mind racing. “it’s just… i’ve spent so much of my life hiding who i am. i don’t want to do that anymore. i don’t want to pretend that hyun-ju isn’t important to me just because some client might not like it.”

“i understand,” she said gently. “and i admire that about you. truly. it’s not easy to live authentically, especially here. and i want you to know that i’m here to support you, no matter what. if anything comes up—if you ever feel like someone’s treating you unfairly—i’ll be in your corner.”

her words eased some of the tension in your chest, and you nodded slowly. “thank you. that means a lot.”

she smiled, her warmth returning. “hyun-ju seems lovely. i hope i get to meet her someday.”

“she is,” you said, your lips curving into a small smile. “and i think you’d like her.”

as you left her office, the knot in your stomach began to unravel. the conversation hadn’t been easy, but it also reminded you of why you were fighting to live authentically. for yourself. for hyun-ju. for the life you wanted to build together, no matter what anyone else thought.

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