#bc he gets to be obvious and you have to keep it to yourself in case you ruin everything by saying it out loud | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

iboozi · 1 month ago

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Songs of Us | Love me Harder | jjk

pairing: bf! jeongguk / gf! reader (established relationship)

summary: car rides can go both ways

warnings: car sex (lol), unprotected sex, he just loves her a lot

w/c: 3.3k

A/N: another new idea! hoorah!! except this time it's like drabble using the vibes of song names. I get my inspiration from real life things ( see Call me yours) and instead of books I chose songs! I'm planning to make more using titles that I simply love (they're not all romancy and some are very depressing) but if you have any songs that you like to be used, let me know!! I'm always looking to expand my music taste bc I just love love music. I hope you guys enjoy this! This one is Love me Harder by Ariana Grande ;)

p.s im so scared to write smut and this is like the few times i've written it. i hope this isn't cringe at all okaybye

-Zoobi out 🪩

masterlist

Love me harder

The car was silent. No humming of the engine, no pattering of the rain against the window. Just you and Jeongguk in the confined space of the leather seats. He was perched in the back row, body still, yet the tension in his posture was palpable. His head was tilted towards the rear window, mouth parted in anticipation, eyes clouded not just with lust, but something deeper.

Despite his obvious arousal, you could still feel his hesitation, the way his fists were clenched, the way his breathing was slow and measured, as if he was waiting for something. He was stiffer than usual and wasn’t making any sudden movements. It was like he was… afraid. But you weren’t sure of what. Was it of you? Or was it the situation?

“What’s wrong baby?” you whispered to him, knees brushing the console, eyes refusing to break contact with his.

Jeongguk swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down profusely as he strove to keep his eyes on yours,

“Nothing,”

You studied him closely, the way his gaze flickered between your eyes and his clenched hands. His vulnerability tugged at something inside of you – and you wouldn’t let him bury it any further.

“Don’t lie,” you said crawling over the console and situated yourself onto his parted thighs. Jeongguk hissed, hands reaching for your waist, as he lifted you ever so slightly to prevent you from landing exactly where you wanted to.

“Ah, baby – are you sure?” he asked, one hand leaving your waist and cupping the side of your face.

You nuzzled deeper into the warmth of his hand. How could you not be sure? You had to practically hold yourself back all day, ever since he walked out of the door wearing that.

His olive green shirt was ruffled from the days wear, but your cheeks still warmed as you looked down at him. The embroidery of the bones was different – but in a good way. It was a side of Jeongguk you were still getting used to. Ever since his tattoo sleeve had been completed and the piercings adorning his face had healed, a switch had flipped. He had a drive in him that was waiting to be satiated, and no matter how much of you he had, it was never enough. Only when you mentioned this new side of him, had he slowed down his conquest. In fact, he seemed to have stopped all together.

It was strange, because Jeongguk had never been the type to give up.

You leaned into him, your breath tickling his cheek, and dipped down to lay featherlight kisses along his neck. His scent pulled you in further – a drug that couldn’t be given up – warm and citrusy. His hand continued to cradle your face, his thumb grazing your cheekbone like he was trying to engrave the feeling of your skin into his memory

“Jeongguk,” you hummed. “Talk to me.”

He blinked, eyelashes brushing your forehead, and gazed into your eyes.

“I just… it was what you said last week,” he admitted, voice low and cracked. “I felt like I was doing too much. A-and I didn’t want to mess this up. Not with you.”

Your chest tightened at his words.

Realisation dawned upon you at his words. It made sense now. His stillness. The hesitation that came with touching you. He wasn’t afraid of you – but he was afraid of everything that came with wanting you this much. Jeongguk had always been a cautious guy, even when others thought opposite. He was gentle with his words and careful with his emotions. It was easier to be the façade he put on for others – tattooed, pierced and oozing confidence – than the one who would sit next to you on the bathroom floor for hours when you had a bad day. Or the one who brought you a bouquet of ‘just because’ flowers every week from that flower shop down the road. Just because they matched your outfit. Just because he saw them and though of you. Or just because he loved you.

That Jeongguk – your Jeongguk – was the one sitting in front of you, tears threatening to break free from his eyes.

“You’ve never been too much,” you said gently, your hands brushing the nape of his neck, feeling the goosebumps rise as you tangled your fingers in his hair. “I just want to know you – all of you.”

He looked up at you like he wanted to absorb your words. Like he already had but didn’t know how to express it to you.

Jeongguk’s hands tightened on your waist, bringing him down back to earth.

“You do know me,” he whispered. “You know me better than I know myself.”

You leaned in further until your forehead rested against his, noses brushing, the air between you slowing down, as if it was observing the moment.

“I can always get to know you more,” you murmured.

A silence stretched between you – not the one that brought on uncertainty, but the kind that killed it. The kind that meant everything could be taken slow. You shifted slightly in his lap not to provoke him further, but to settle yourself. Jeongguk’s breath hitched, but he made no action to stop you.

Outside, the sky turned darker, rain still absent, but threatening. Inside, the heat between you both was unmistakeable. But it wasn’t just lust that wandered in through the vents and fogged the windows – there was a layer of something raw, something real that settled over you.

You nudged your nose against Jeongguk’s, to which he parted his lips once more.

Taking the opportunity he presented, you pressed your lips against his. Soft, at first. Nothing more than a question. A whisper of a touch, like you were dipping your toes in water to test the warmth. Jeongguk responded slowly, moulding his lips to fit yours, the grip on your waist tightening in contrast to his gentle mouth.

There was no urgency – only understanding.

With every second that passed, you could taste the unshed words between you, the way his breath stuttered as it escaped through his nose, and the way his hands ghosted up the back of your shirt, like he didn’t trust himself not to leave marks all along you. When you pulled away, there was barely an inch of space between you – just enough to look at him his puffy lips.

Jeongguk’s eyes flickered open, as if he was waking from a dream, but still – you saw the boy you loved so deeply in them. The one who triple checks his laces to make sure they’re not undone. The one who dances while cooking you food. And the one that checks you’re warm enough at night before pulling you into his arms, regardless of the answer.

“I want you so much that it hurts me,” he admitted, voice breaking like a wave crashing against the shore.

A beat passed. You pressed further into him.

“You can want me,” you whispered to him. “You can have all of me.”

His jaw tensed, and relaxed, hands slipping higher under your shirt to caress your shoulder blade. Skin to skin.

You kissed his jaw in return. Once. Twice. Then the corner of his mouth, his cheek, his temple. Each press of your lips was a quiet reassurance, that released the tightness in Jeongguk’s figure. “Let me hold your pain,” you murmured against his skin. “Give it to me baby.”

Jeongguk breathed out shakily, forehead dropping to your shoulder as he tried to steady himself. His arms curled around you and tightened. He held you like he was afraid to lose you – like the only thing keeping him stable was the steady beating of your hearts against one another.

“I…I don’t want to hurt you,” he confessed into the crook of your neck. “I just… I just want to be what you need, what you deserve,”

You grasped his jaw gently, forcing him to look up at you.

“You’ve never done anything wrong. I choose you. In this life. In the next. You’re all I want. You’re all I need.” You whispered softly, your voice firm with the certainty of your love

And that was all Jeongguk needed – because when he kissed you again, it wasn’t a whisper. It was a shout from the clifftops. It was all of him.

Outside, the first drop of rain finally tapped against the windshield. But inside, it was just you and Jeongguk. The car was achingly small, leather seats pressing against both of you as you shifted around to find a comfortable position, but you were too excited.

You returned Jeongguk’s kiss with the same sense of urgency and encouraged his hands to continue their exploring. He was deliberate in the way his hands traced your skin, a stark contrast to the way he held you before. His fingers glided across the delicate dip of your spine as his mouth found your neck, sucking with a hunger that made your head spin.

You gasped, the sound caught in your throat as his lips travelled to the base of your neck, down over your collarbone, breath hot and needy.

You angled your head back, granting him more access, and his hands slid out of your shirt to cup the back of your head as he deepened the kiss, tongue slipping past your lips with an intensity that caught you by surprise. Body moving instinctively, you pinned yourself against him, feeling the hardness of his chest against yours. You could feel the heat of his desire radiating through his t-shirt, like it was something that you could touch and keep hold of.

Jeongguk’s hands, no longer hesitant in their movement, slid down to your hips and pulled you flush against him. You felt the undeniable hardness of him beneath you, and the realisation had your skin warming up even more. He groaned low in his throat, grip tightening on you as he fought to keep control, even though his conscious was begging for him to lose it.

“Fuck…” he breathed heavily against your lips, hands lifting your shirt higher, fingers stroking over your stomach, leaving a trail of butterflies in their wake. Your arms lifted to accommodate his actions, letting him slide your shirt off and toss it down beside you.

He paused as he looked up at you, eyes glistening in delight and you took that as the chance to reach down for his own shirt, sliding it up with trembling fingers. When it was discarded to the side next to yours, you grazed your hands over the planes of his muscles and traced the tattoos covering his right arm, feeling as his body tensed up under your touch.

Jeongguk let out a low groan as your hands moved up and down his arm, fingers tracing his tattoos as his head fell back against the headrest in pleasure. “You’re driving me crazy,” he muttered, voice hoarse as he reached for your belt loop, pulling you even closer to him. His lips met your jaw once more and he ventured up to nibble the lobe of your ear as if he couldn’t get enough of your scent, enough of the warmth you were exuding.

You shivered, hands clutching his arms as you kissed him again, rougher this time, as your tongues lapped up against each other. The world outside the car no longer existed. There was only your heat, your bodies fitting together like a puzzle – and the way he was kissing you, like nothing else mattered to him but this turning point.

His hands slid up your back, tugging at your bra strap, fingers working with an impatience that matched your own. You moaned softly as his fingers eased your straps down your shoulders, pressing against him, hands moving to his belt. In one tug, you unbuckled it and pulled slowly. The sound of his belt hitting the car seat was almost drowned out by the sound of your heavy breaths, tangling with each other’s.

Jeongguk’s breathed hitched as your hand slid lower, tracing the hard outline of him through his jeans. He exhaled, the sharp sound sending a spike straight through your core. “Baby… please don’t tease me.”

You didn’t reply to his words. Instead, you unzipped his jeans, the sound resonating through the car and tugged. Jeongguk lifted his hips to assist your actions, whilst pulling down your jeans eagerly at the same time. It was a struggle in the tight space, but that only seemed to heighten the tension between you. You both shared a breathless laugh, the sound of it shaky with anticipation.

As you resituated yourself on his bare thighs, skin prickling where it met his, you looked up at Jeongguk again.

“Hi,” you whispered, nose nudging his.

Jeongguk smiled, dimples on display, “Hi.”

You reached for his shoulders and grinded ever so slightly against him. Jeongguk moaned, hands finding their place on your hips once more as you moved up and down. His mouth found one of your breasts, and he sucked softly. You hummed in pleasure, clit brushing his lower stomach. You pulled back ever so slightly to look at Jeongguk.

He looked at you half-dazed, pout evident on his face and you kissed him lightly, shoulders shaking in silent laughter.

“I’m taking my time,” you told him, hand moving to his hair. You pulled, “Got it?”

He nodded, and you released his hair. You smiled, leaned back and reached down to brush aside the scrap of fabric covering you and pulled it to the side, baring yourself to Jeongguk.

He swallowed whatever he wanted to say and skimmed his inked hand down your thigh to meet yours. He pushed your hand out of the way and thumbed your folds, collecting your built up arousal. Bringing his hand up to his lips, he extended his tongue out to savour the taste of you. Maintaining eye contact, he repeated his previous actions, teasing your entrance every time he grazed your clit.

You let out a breathless moan, and squirmed, in hopes of him getting your message. Jeongguk – the little shit – just smiled at you, pretending to not know what you wanted.

You frowned at him and decided to take matters into your own hands. Leaning forwards, you grasped his shoulders and shuffled forwards until you were directly above his stiff length.

Jeongguk let out a guttural groan and placed his head at the base of your neck, taking deep breaths. Finally getting a hold of himself, he trailed his lips up your neck, biting and kissing with a tenderness that left you mildly dazed.

“Are you gonna take me?”, he mumbled against the column of your throat, the low vibration of his voice leaving goosebumps in its trail.

You nodded frantically and swatted his shoulders as he laughed at your enthusiasm. Your fingers dug into his back, dragging him forwards, the urge to feel him, all of him, overcoming you.

You stretched down to his hardness and moved your hand up and down with a featherlight touch. Jeongguk gasped and bucked his hips on impulse to meet your touch, but you just smiled at him – a replica of his earlier movements.

He bit his lip, and wrinkled his brow in annoyance, but instantly caught on to what you were doing as you stopped your stroking.

“Bad idea baby,” he grumbled, voice thick with arousal, and grabbed your waist.

Before you could realise what he was doing, he pushed you down onto his length in one go. You couldn’t help but cry out at the sudden stretch and the feeling of him inside you as you yanked his shoulders towards you.

Jeongguk paused and raised his hand to brush back a strand of hair that had fallen out of your ponytail. He cupped your jaw and gazed into your eyes, looking for any sign that you didn’t want this.

But you were waiting for this. And now that you had this, had him, you wouldn’t ever let go. You rubbed your cheek into his hand, giving him the go sign and he softly pecked your forehead. It was such a simple action, but it made your heart swell up with even more desire for the man before you.

You kissed him, channelling all the emotions and words you wanted him to know and feel, and he returned it, almost as if he was saying ‘I already know’.

When he finally moved against you, it was languid at first, hips rolling up to meet yours in a deliberate and steady rhythm. You gasped in bliss and clutched him tighter to you, tongue tangling with his as he set a pace that made your mind go blank. He was relentless, yet teasing at the same time, grip tightening on your waist as he deepened the pace, each movement reaching further into you, into your soul.

The air was dense with heat, with the need to feel each other, to join as one. Jeongguk’s breath was ragged in your ear, voice breaking as he whispered your name like a mantra, like he was holding onto something fragile, something he was scared to lose.

“Fuck…” he sighed, voice hoarse. “I need you baby. So fucking bad.”

And you did exactly that. You met him at every thrust, body moving in time with his, pushing him higher and pulling him deeper. Every inch of you was burning with a hunger for him, every touch, every kiss and every noise he let out was a silent testament to the unbreakable bond you were creating.

There was no place for hesitation. Only the frantic, desperate need to be with each other in the most unguarded and vulnerable way.

You moaned in Jeongguk’s ear,

“I’m gonna –”

He encouraged you by pushing deeper, if that was even possible,

“Give it to me baby. All of it,”

You choked out a moan at your release and tightened your hold on him as you shook out the rest of your climax.

Jeongguk followed you, hot and heavy in pursuit, and groaned as he spilled into you. He continued with a few feeble thrusts and lay his head back, trying to catch his breath.

You collapsed onto him, head resting on his sweaty chest as you exhaled heavily. The pounding in your chest slowed as the rhythm of his heartbeat echoed against your ears. His skin was warm beneath you, damp from exertion, but the sensation brought you comfort, like the moment would live on forever.

Jeongguk let out a low laugh, hand brushing up your back, fingers lightly tracing circles as if he, too, was memorising this moment. The scent of his skin – an intoxicating blend of citrus and musk – wrapped around you, grounding you as desire threatened to rise up again.

“That was… intense,” you murmured, voice muffled by his chest.

He laughed once more. “Intense? Baby that was nothing,”

You shot him a half-hearted glare, but it was hard to keep it up when you remembered he was still in you, feeling his warmth the irregular pulsing of him.

“Whatever,”

Jeongguk pulled you up, lips finding your collarbone and pressed delicate kisses along the bone, making your skin flare beneath his mouth. You twisted his hair in your fingers and pulled him up to meet your eyes. They were dark pools of something fierce and fragile all at once, reflecting the struggle that you touched on before.

You smiled softly and kissed his cheek. Then the other. And one final kiss on his forehead.

“I love you Jeongguk,” you whispered.

He looked at you. Really looked at you. The fragility melted away and all you saw was the softness of his gaze.

“I love you…more than I know how to say,” he breathed, voice breaking as he gazed at you, as if he was still trying to understand the depth of his own feelings.

A second passed and you smiled, heart beating with a tenderness that only came from his words,

“Impossible,”

Jeongguk chuckled at your expression, and pulled you into him once more,

“Oh yeah? Let me show you.”

539 notes · View notes

moluvies · 2 months ago

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crawl home ꔛ reiner braun x reader

a/n: spent way too long writing this bc i love reiner

words: 9.3k

cw: lowkey bff!jean, she/her pronouns and fem anatomy reader, soldier!reader, pre-timeskip friends/lovers, betrayal, forgiveness, reiner is pathetic, angsty, kinda serving friends to enemies to lovers, SMUT!!, oral (f!reader recieving), pinv sex, breeding, MDNI !!

˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡

Reiner was taller now, even if it was hard to believe. Maybe not as tall as Bertholdt was, but taller. Not only that, but while he maintained some of the more prominent muscles in his figure, it was noticeable how much weight he had lost. His hair was slightly longer - maybe he didn't keep up with cutting it as much as before. But to be fair, the change wasn't necessarily drastic. Not like the amount of facial hair he let grow out, which was completely ridiculous but so on brand for him.

But what did you care?

Your gaze lingered on him a moment longer, practically having to force yourself to look away from the man you swore was dead to you. But he wasn't, was he? He was standing right there, talking to Connie and Jean like nothing happened. As if the night prior Jean didn't literally punch him. Did they all just forgive him suddenly? Traitors.

You sighed. Maybe you were being dramatic.

The only thing you wanted to hear now was the sound of the water swishing beneath the boat, maybe even a seagull. But it was like you couldn't drown out his voice. It hadn't changed. It was exactly as you'd remembered it being about four years ago. Though, back then you swore you'd found it charming.

Odiha. That's where you were going, what you were focusing on, in order to service the flying boat that would help you and your fellow scouts reach the Rumbling, you needed to reach Odiha. To stop Eren. So why was Reiner's presence bothering you so much?

Reiner was your best friend at one point. When you first joined the cadet corps, it was obvious you were nervous to anyone who took a second to look. And for that, most people didn't see you as a potential reliable comrade.

Most people.

Reiner liked you. He had once playfully claimed you made funny faces during sparring exercises and took you under his wing, seeing your potential. Back then, Reiner had a talent for making anyone feel seen. Even stubborn cadets like Annie seemed to at least tolerate him, maybe even respect him.

So how could you not fall in love with him?

It was ridiculous how quick it happened. You were sure there were other girls vying for his attention just like you were, but you swore Reiner gave you special treatment. It was stupid.

Reiner would see you entering the mess hall and instantly make sure there was a spot open at his table for you. Bertholdt had typically sat across from him, but most of the time there was a spot directly next to Reiner conveniently available just for you. He'd call you by your last name over to their table, always a smile on his face, always so damn sure of himself.

"Bread?" He had offered, causing you to shake your head with a nervous smile on your face. Nervous. Not nervous enough, apparently. But that didn't matter—not when Reiner was offering you bread, or to train after hours with you, or take you into Stohess one weekend when you mentioned wanting a change of scenery.

"I know you wanted that muffin," Reiner said regretfully as you walked away from the bakery stall at the food market. "Sorry I couldn't get it for you."

You shook your head, mouth full from the cookie he'd already got for you just ten minutes prior. "It's fine, really," you assured him, words slightly muffled from the pastry.

Reiner simply smiled at you, taking a bite of his own cookie.

When you returned to Trost that evening as the sun was just beginning to set, the teasing from your comrades was relentless.

"Woah!" Connie had exclaimed, realization dawning on his face as he looked at you and Reiner entering the mess hall together. "Where've you been all day?" He asked, nosy as ever even if the answer was plain as day.

"A date. Is that really such a foreign concept to you?" Reiner had teased, making Connie grin mischievously.

A date. You had your suspicions that that's what it was, but Reiner hadn't explicitly said it. Not until Connie asked. The straightforward explanation made your heart race, gaze dropping instantly to your shoes as Connie's laughter filled the space.

"So that's why you've been polishing your boots and actually combing your hair. I was wondering what the special occasion was," Jean had said to you, his brow raised and arms crossed in a way that was so distinctly Jean. Despite the words, you were sure it was his own way of approving.

"Oh, my God, is that a hickey?" Sasha suddenly butt in, moving into your personal space. Her hands held your head in place as she stared at the scrape from training on your forehead.

"Hickey—what—Sasha, that's on my forehead!" You had defended, but it was too late. Multiple other cadets heard the word hickey and ran with it, causing a flurry of gossip surrounding you and Reiner. And Reiner didn't deny it. He just smiled at you, and somehow that made you feel better.

There were plenty of times he'd made you feel better. An embarrassing amount of times. A pathetic amount of times, considering what he might've been comforting you about.

You sniffled, attempting to straighten yourself out before dinner was served in the mess hall as you sat on a log on the outskirts of the training grounds, taking in the yellow and orange blend of sunset before you. Even with the view, your mind was elsewhere.

It hit you every now and then at random. Despite it happening almost five years ago, you had pushed the grief down as far as you could bury it when your family was killed during the breach of Wall Maria. You were so young when it happened, but suddenly you were alone. When the Armored had broken through the inner gate of the wall, your childhood home had been crushed by a stray boulder.

You were lucky. You came to terms with that at a young age. Far too lucky. It chipped away at you everyday since, even without you realizing. What made you so fortunate to have escaped? Avoided certain death like your family couldn't? What made that soldier step in and save you but not them?

The wondering was pointless, though. They died and you didn't. For some reason fate had kept you alive until now. And for that, you had to live with a purpose. Even if now that purpose was wiping your snotty nose and trying to compose yourself enough to go eat with your friends.

"Bread?"

You had looked up to see none other than Reiner holding out a small loaf, a second one for himself in his right hand. Hesitantly, you had taken it, using the moment Reiner sat down beside you to attempt to discreetly wipe at the tears on your cheeks.

He didn't ask. You supposed it wasn't his style, or maybe he just assumed you didn't want to talk about it.

Reiner simply took a bite of his bread next to you, leaning forward as he chewed. After moments of silence, Reiner looked at you for a second and then towards the sunset. The corner of his mouth tugged upwards into a soft, almost wistful smile, but he said nothing.

"What?" You finally asked.

He almost replied with "nothing," you could tell, but he sighed and leaned back, either hands at his sides resting on the log. "You know what I miss most about home?" Reiner asked, his gaze locked with the sky. "The way the sun would rise over the hills," he stated.

You realized you'd never talked about it—why you were crying that day. To be honest, you didn't want to. Something about his presence had just put you at ease back then, to the point you forgot all of your troubles.

When graduation drew near, you weren't even sure what Reiner's plan was. Everyone knew his perfect scores got him into the top ten, eligible to enlist as a military police officer in the interior. That would've been great for him, but you weren't sure where that left you.

You weren't with Reiner when the Collosal titan had appeared and breached the wall into Trost. But you were there when Eren was discovered to be a titan himself.

From there, something in Reiner had shifted.

Back then, you figured it was realization of some sort. Realization that things were complicated, things were scary, things were real...

Things got even more real when Marco died. Marco wasn't someone you were close with, but he was always there, always kind. If someone as capable as Marco, as determined, as strong, as kind as Marco could die, what would that mean for you and your friends?

Many cadets dropped out that day, despite graduation being so close. You almost did as well. Especially upon seeing Jean's reaction to Marco's death, you didn't know if you had the guts to continue.

But Reiner always had to step in.

"You're stronger than you give yourself credit for," he said, his strong hand on your shoulder. "Look at me," he commanded softly. You hesitated but met his eyes. They were serious, and almost cold now. Different from how they used to look at you. "I know you've got what it takes."

And that was that. Along with Jean, who was sure he'd join the military police, you joined the Survey Corps, falling under the wing of the Commander Erwin Smith.

You were terrified, but you had Reiner.

Things in your lives seemed to come to a halt when Annie was revealed to be a titan. And then Ymir, along with Krista being some kind of royalty and living with a completely different name—Historia.

It was all confusing and overwhelming, and you really wished Reiner was there for you. And he was, physically, always there. But then he was distant. Even when sitting directly beside you during meals like he did before, his focus was obviously elsewhere.

And then it happened.

You revisited that day often. When Reiner and Bertholdt transformed, and everything you thought you knew came crashing down.

You couldn't even cry, or scream, or do much of anything. You'd learned a long time ago to accept these things, but God did it hurt.

Then he was gone. He and Bertholdt, back to wherever they came from—their "hometown" as they so often called it. You didn't know back then, and you'd honestly stopped caring.

When Eren was rescued from them, he tried telling you on the way back what Reiner had said in response to him screaming at them. Eren had brought you up, telling Reiner about all the pain and trauma you endured years ago when the inner gate of Wall Maria was broken and your family was killed.

Sorry. Sorry was what he said, according to Eren.

What a coward.

The next time you saw Reiner was a few months later. But it wasn't really him. It was the Armored titan, the same one you remember from childhood who had breached the wall. And now here you were, back in Shiganshina with your fellow scouts.

The bloodshed was monumental in Shiganshina. Bertholdt had died, but Reiner lived—barely. You weren't there when Hange and Jean had captured him. And you were grateful you weren't. Just three months after discovering his true self, you knew you'd do something stupid like let him go if you had been there. But that part wasn't really up to you, and he got away regardless.

That's when you discovered the truth of everything. The titans, the walls, Paradis, Eldians.

You wished you could hate him. But everyday you'd hoped for the day you could speak to him again, just once.

Those feelings seemed to have formed into anger as the years passed. And by the time you and your fellow soldiers raided Liberio, you basically lived in a shell. You promised your comrades you weren't going to allow feelings to get in the way, and you delivered.

So much happened in such a short amount of time it was difficult to even remember it properly.

You remembered seeing him—really him—for the first time again on Paradis. He was almost pathetic looking now, but a part of your heart still yearned for him.

Were the feelings even the same, though?

You and the rest of the scouts had to compromise and join forces with the Warriors in order to put a stop to Eren's plan to go through with the Rumbling. It was the first night that Jean brutally punched Reiner at the campfire. Years ago, you might've blindly taken the side of Reiner. Hell, if he said a word to you since being back on the island maybe you would've defended him. But he didn't. So you let it happen.

When the kids, Gabi and Falco, rushed to Reiner's side after the altercation, you felt as though you needed to physically drag yourself away to avoid saying anything to him.

Instead, you found Jean, cooling off in the outskirts of the woods. His head was in his hands, leaning against a tree as he shook.

You placed a gentle hand on his arm, causing him to jump. You made eye contact, but he was quick to look away. Though, your small touch grounded him.

"Sorry about that," Jean apologized. "I got carried away." His voice was breaking, you'd noticed, but you shook your head.

"Don't apologize," you replied.

You made a choice that evening. The choice to stay loyal to your comrades instead of blindly following Reiner like you did when you were a dumb kid. But it didn't make it any less difficult when he stood there on the boat looking almost like he had years ago.

The expression on his face was that of determination. And the people at his side were none other than Jean and Connie.

You scoffed, pulling your gaze away from the men and staring off into the vast ocean—the ocean you didn't even knew existed years ago; the ocean Reiner didn't bother mentioning to you those nights you sat together for hours.

You'd gone over every emotion the past four years. You saw his side as best you could. Even so, it was hard to forgive. Especially when Reiner himself hadn't made an effort to speak to you.

"Hey." You didn't look up, you knew it was Jean.

"You gonna talk to loverboy or what?" He asked after a beat of silence. You finally lifted your head to shoot him a glare. Jean simply smiled, looking back at where Reiner and Connie were still talking and then back to you, sitting beside you on the bench.

You remained quiet for a moment after Jean sat beside you, your fingers absently picking at a loose thread on your sleeve. The gentle rock of the boat beneath you seemed to match the churning in your stomach.

"I'm not talking to him," you finally said, keeping your voice low despite the distance between you and the others.

Jean snorted. "Right. Because ignoring him is working so well for you."

You shot him another glare. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You've been staring at him every chance you get since yesterday." Jean's knowing smile widened as your cheeks flushed with heat. "Don't worry, he's been doing the same thing."

Something fluttered in your chest at his words, but you quickly tamped it down. "Has he... said anything?" The question slipped out before you could stop it, your voice smaller than you intended.

Jean chuckled, that same knowing look in his eyes that made you want to shove him off the bench and into the sea. But then his expression softened.

"No," he admitted. "But it's getting annoying watching you two dance around each other like this. You look at him when he's not looking, he looks at you when you turn away. It's really embarassing for both of you."

You sighed, turning your gaze back to the endless blue horizon. The vastness of the ocean still amazed you, even now. "Well, if he wanted to talk, he would've said something by now."

"Maybe he's thinking the same thing about you," Jean pointed out.

"That's different," you protested weakly.

"How?"

You opened your mouth to respond but found you didn't have an answer that wouldn't sound childish. Jean was right, and you both knew it.

"Look," Jean said, his voice gentler now, "I'm not exactly Reiner's biggest fan. You were there when I..." He flexed his hand, the same one he'd used to punch Reiner the night before, his knuckles reddened now. "But we're all stuck here together now. And whatever was between you two—"

"There was nothing between us," you interrupted, the lie bitter on your tongue.

Jean gave you a flat look. "You're a terrible liar. Always have been."

You looked down at your hands, suddenly finding your fingernails fascinating. "It doesn't matter now anyway."

"Maybe not," Jean agreed. "But you're never going to stop wondering if you don't at least talk to him once. Really talk to him."

The silence between you stretched for several long moments as you considered his words. The rational part of you knew he was right. This tension, this unspoken thing hanging in the air between you and Reiner, it would only continue to distract you. And with what lay ahead—with Eren and the Rumbling—you couldn't afford distractions. And more importantly, you didn't want to die with regrets.

"Fine," you muttered, standing up with a resigned sigh.

Without waiting for some type of reaction from Jean, you turned and made your way across the deck toward where Reiner and Connie stood. Your heart hammered against your ribs with each step, and you briefly considered turning back. But Jean's words echoed in your mind—you would never stop wondering if you didn't at least try.

Connie noticed you first, his animated conversation with Reiner faltering as you approached. Reiner turned, and for a moment, you were transported back to those days in the mess hall—him turning to call your name, saving you a seat beside him.

But his eyes weren't the same. They carried a weight now, dark shadows beneath them speaking of sleepless nights and unshakable guilt.

"Um, I'll just..." Connie mumbled, already backing away, but you barely registered his departure.

You stopped a few feet from Reiner, suddenly unsure what to say. All the anger, all the hurt, all the things you'd rehearsed in your head over the years—none of it seemed right now that he was standing in front of you.

"Can we talk?" The words came out steadier than you felt.

Reiner looked surprised, as if that was the last thing he expected to hear from you. He nodded once, hesitantly. "Yeah. Of course."

You nodded, and without another word, turned to lead the way to the stairs. You could feel his presence behind you as you descended into the dimly lit interior of the ship, the wooden steps creaking beneath your weight. The air was cooler here, tinged with the scent of salt and damp wood.

The sleeping cabins were arranged in a narrow corridor, small compartments with barely enough room for the bunks they contained. Most were empty now, with everyone gathered on the upper deck to watch the endless expanse of ocean passing by. You chose one at random, pushing open the door and stepping inside.

The room was tight, with just enough space for two narrow bunks built into the walls and a small porthole that cast a circle of fading evening light across the wooden floor. You sat on one of the bunks, the thin mattress sinking beneath your weight. Reiner hesitated at the doorway for a moment before entering and sitting on the opposite bunk, the space between you barely more than an arm's length but feeling like an unbridgeable chasm.

Reiner's shoulders hunched slightly, his large frame somehow seeming smaller in the confined space. His eyes darted around the cabin before finally settling on his hands, which were clasped tightly in his lap.

You found yourself remembering another small space you'd shared once, years ago during a thunderstorm. The supply shed had been the closest shelter when the rain had caught you both during evening training. You'd sat side by side on crates of gear, listening to the rain hammer against the roof, shoulders touching as Reiner told stories about his hometown to distract you from the thunder. And you remembered how you felt when he held your hand, the way his touch was so gentle, his fingers lacing with yours. Back then, his voice had been warm, his smile easy, his eyes bright with something that made your heart race.

Now, he sat across from you, silent and tense, his gaze fixed on the floor between your feet. The only sound was the creaking of the ship around you and the distant, muffled voices from above.

The silence between you stretched until it became unbearable. Your fingers dug into the thin mattress beneath you, knuckles turning white with the pressure.

"My family is dead because of you," you finally said, your voice quiet but sharp enough to cut through the heavy air. The words hung there, raw and unavoidable. "Every time I look at you, I see that day. The Armored Titan breaking through the gate. The boulder that crushed our home."

Reiner didn't flinch, didn't look away. He just nodded slowly, his eyes hollow. "I know."

"You know?" A bitter laugh escaped your lips. "That's all you have to say? You know?"

"What do you want me to say?" His voice was flat, resigned. The voice of a man who had already condemned himself a thousand times over.

"I want you to say something—anything—other than 'I know,'" you snapped, the anger you'd been holding back finally beginning to surface. "I want you to explain how you could sit with me that day by the training grounds, offering me bread while I cried about my family, knowing it was you who killed them."

Reiner's gaze dropped to the floor again. "I don't have an explanation that would make any sense to you."

"Try me," you challenged, leaning forward. "I've had four years to think about this, Reiner. Four years to try to understand."

He looked up then, and the defeated emptiness in his eyes almost made you recoil. This wasn't the Reiner you remembered—the strong, confident soldier who always seemed to know what to say, what to do. This was a shell of that man, worn down by guilt and grief.

"I compartmentalized," he said after a long moment. "The Warrior and the Soldier. Sometimes, I... I forgot which one was real."

"And which one was it?" you asked. "Which version of you was real, Reiner?"

He shook his head slowly. "I don't know anymore. Maybe neither."

You stood up abruptly, unable to sit still with the storm of emotions churning inside you. The cabin was too small to pace properly, but you moved to the porthole, looking out at the darkening sky without really seeing it.

"Do you have any idea what your betrayal did to me?" Your voice was quieter now, but no less intense. "It wasn't just that you were the Armored Titan. It was that you were you. Someone I..." You swallowed hard, forcing the words out. "Someone I cared about. A lot."

You heard the bunk creak as Reiner shifted his weight but didn't turn to look at him.

"I nearly quit the Scouts after you left," you continued, watching your breath fog the glass of the porthole. "I couldn't understand how I could have been so wrong about someone. How I could have trusted you so completely."

Your fingertips pressed against the cool glass as memories flooded back—training together in the rain, his hands adjusting your grip on the ODM gear controls, his laughter at your terrible jokes, the way his eyes would find yours across the mess hall.

"And it wasn't just you," you said, your voice growing thick with unshed tears. "I haven't been able to truly trust anyone since. Not completely. There's always this voice in the back of my mind asking if they're hiding something too. If they'll betray me just like you did."

"I'm sorry," Reiner said, his voice barely audible.

You whirled around to face him, anger flaring hot and bright. "Sorry doesn't bring my family back! Sorry doesn't erase the fact that you lied to me for years! Sorry doesn't change the fact that every memory I have of us is tainted now because I don't even know if any of it was real!"

"It was real," Reiner said, standing up now, something finally sparking in his eyes. "That's what you don't understand. It was all real for me too."

"How could it be real when it was all built on a lie?" Your voice rose, echoing in the small space.

"Because I didn't know how to separate the lie from the truth anymore!" He took a step toward you, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. "Do you think this has been easy for me? Do you think I just walked away and forgot about all of you—forgot about you?"

You stared at him, momentarily stunned by the sudden emotion in his voice.

"I've thought about you every single day since then," he continued, his voice breaking. "I see your face in my dreams. I hear your voice when it's quiet. You've been haunting me for four years, and I deserve it."

The raw pain in his voice knocked the breath from your lungs. Tears spilled down your cheeks as you stared at him, really seeing him for perhaps the first time since you'd learned the truth—not as the Armored Titan, not as the Warrior, not even as the Soldier, but as Reiner. Just Reiner, broken and haunted and so very human.

"I know you hate me," he said, quieter now, his own eyes shining with unshed tears. "You should hate me. If I could go back and change what I did..."

"But you can't," you whispered.

"No," he agreed. "I can't."

The admission hung between you, simple and devastating in its truth. You couldn't change the past. Your family was still gone. The walls were still broken. And Reiner—your Reiner—had still been the one to do it.

But the man standing before you now, shoulders slumped under the weight of his actions, eyes filled with a pain that mirrored your own—he wasn't the Armored Titan anymore. He was just as broken as you were.

Then suddenly you moved, your arms wrapping around his waist, your face pressed against his chest as sobs wracked your body. You could feel his heartbeat, strong and steady against your cheek, so at odds with the broken man it belonged to.

For a terrible second, he remained frozen, and you thought you'd made a mistake. Then his arms came around you, tight and desperate, one hand cradling the back of your head as he buried his face in your hair. His body trembled against yours, and you realized he was crying too—silent, shuddering sobs that seemed to come from somewhere deep inside him.

The stubborn shame that had kept you both at arm's length dissolved in the salt of your mingled tears. There, in the dim light of the cabin, with the gentle rocking of the ship beneath you and the uncertain future ahead, you held each other like the last two survivors of a shipwreck—broken, exhausted, but somehow still alive.

You weren't sure how long you stayed like that, holding each other in the dim light of the cabin, your tears gradually subsiding into uneven breaths. His arms around you felt both familiar and foreign—the shape of him changed, but the way he held you still the same.

When you finally pulled back, just enough to look up at him, your faces were inches apart. Your hands had somehow moved to his shoulders, feeling the unfamiliar angles where muscle had once been. His eyes, red-rimmed from crying, searched yours with a question he didn't dare voice.

"I still hate what you did," you whispered, your voice hoarse. "I don't know if I can ever forgive that."

Reiner nodded slightly, accepting your words without defense. One of his hands had found its way to your face, his thumb gently brushing away a tear from your cheek.

"But I don't know how to hate you," you admitted, the confession tearing itself from somewhere deep inside you. "I've tried for four years, and I just... can't."

Something flickered in his eyes—a spark of something you hadn't seen since before everything fell apart. Hope, maybe. Or longing.

You weren't sure who closed the distance. Maybe both of you, drawn together like the inevitable pull of gravity. His lips found yours in a kiss that was hesitant at first, as if he expected you to push him away. When you didn't—when instead you pressed closer, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt—the hesitation gave way to a desperate need that matched your own.

Reiner's arms tightened around you, backing you against the wall beside the porthole. The cool glass pressed against your shoulder, a stark contrast to the heat of his body against yours. His kiss deepened, years of unspoken feelings pouring into it as his tongue met yours.

You gasped against his mouth, your hands sliding up to tangle in his hair, longer now than you remembered. The scrape of his beard against your skin was new, and your heart skipped a beat at the way his breath hitched when you tugged gently at his hair.

When you pulled away again, breathless, his eyes were dark with a mixture of desire and pain. "I shouldn't be doing this," he whispered, even as his thumb traced circles on your hip. "After everything I've done..."

"Shut up," you murmured, pulling him back to you. "Just shut up, Reiner."

He made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob against your lips. "Still stubborn," he breathed.

Your hands tangled in his hair, eyes squeezed shut as you took in the feel of him. You were desperate, you knew. You felt pathetic, but you wanted him. Needed to be close to him.

"It's embarrassing how long I've wanted to do this," you murmured against his lips, your voice barely audible over the sound of your racing hearts.

His forehead pressed against yours, his eyes closed as he took an unsteady breath. "When we were back in training, that day in Stohess..." His voice was rough, trailing off as your lips found the curve of his jaw.

"Why didn't you kiss me then?" you asked, the question muffled against his skin.

Reiner's laugh was soft and broken. "I wanted to. Every second we were together." His hands slid down to your waist, anchoring you against him as if afraid you might disappear. "I told myself it was because of the mission. That I couldn't get distracted."

You pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, your hand coming up to touch his face, feeling the unfamiliar texture of his beard beneath your fingertips. "And the real reason?"

He swallowed hard, his gaze dropping for a moment before meeting yours again. "I was afraid that if I started, I wouldn't be able to stop. That I'd tell you everything." The admission seemed to cost him, his voice barely above a whisper. "And then you'd hate me."

"I did hate you," you said quietly. "When I found out."

His eyes clouded with pain, but he nodded. "I know."

You leaned in, brushing your lips against his again, more gently this time. "But I hated myself more for still wanting this. For still wanting you."

Reiner's response was to kiss you again, deeper this time, his body pressing yours more firmly against the wall. One hand tangled in your hair while the other gripped your hip, his touch both gentle and desperate. You could taste the salt of tears—whose, you weren't sure anymore—and something else, something uniquely him that you had tried so hard to forget.

The ship rocked with a stronger wave, causing you both to sway. Reiner's arm tightened around your waist, steadying you, and for a brief moment, you were back in the training grounds, his arms around you as he corrected your stance, his breath warm against your ear.

"I missed you," he breathed against your mouth, the words so quiet they might have been imagined. "Every day."

You didn't answer with words. You couldn't. The anger was still there, simmering beneath the surface, alongside grief and betrayal and a hundred other emotions you couldn't name. But for now, in the dim light of the cabin with the sea stretching endlessly around you, you let yourself remember what it felt like to be in his arms.

Your lips found his again, harder this time, your teeth catching his lower lip in a way that made him groan. His hands tightened on you in response, lifting you slightly as he pressed you more firmly against the wall. The kiss deepened, grew more urgent, years of longing and hurt and need pouring into it.

The world outside—Eren, the Rumbling, the fate that awaited all of you—seemed distant and unreal compared to the solid warmth of Reiner against you, the familiar-yet-different taste of his mouth, the sound of his ragged breathing mingling with your own.

This wasn't forgiveness. Not yet. Maybe not ever. But as his lips moved from your mouth to your jaw, tracing a path that made your breath catch, you realized it might be something like a beginning. A chance to finally confront all the things left unsaid between you, all the hurt and the betrayal, but also all the moments that had been real.

Reiner’s hands slid down your sides, fingers digging into your hips as he kissed you with a desperation that made your knees weak. The rough scrape of his beard against your skin sent shivers down your spine, and when his teeth grazed your bottom lip, you gasped—only for him to swallow the sound with another searing kiss.

This isn't at all how you expected your "talk" to go. Years of rehearsing different scripts in your head about how you'd tell him you hate him when you saw him, how you'd show him how it felt to feel betrayed and alone... All of those came crumbling down when he touched you like this, so gently but also so needy.

Not that the idea in general hadn't crossed your mind an embarrassing and pathetic amount of times. That, you couldn't deny. Since your cadet days you'd wondered what it would feel like with him, hoping he'd make a move. But he never did. Your heart skipped a beat when you felt the sadness well up inside you again, but that feeling quickly went away when he tilted his head to better kiss you.

His body pressed you harder against the wall, the heat of him searing through your clothes. You could feel the evidence of his arousal against your thigh, and the knowledge of how badly he wanted you—after all this time—sent a thrill through you.

Then, without warning, he broke the kiss, his breath ragged. His eyes were dark, pupils blown wide, lips swollen from yours.

"Tell me to stop," he murmured, voice rough.

You didn’t.

A low sound escaped him, something between a groan and a growl, before his hands tightened on your waist—and then he was lifting you, turning, and depositing you onto the narrow bunk behind you in one swift motion. The thin mattress barely cushioned the impact, but you barely had time to register it before Reiner was on his knees between your legs, his hands sliding up your thighs with a reverence that made your breath hitch.

His gaze flicked up to yours, searching, hesitant—like he still couldn’t believe you were letting him touch you.

"Please," he breathed, fingers curling into the fabric of your pants. "Let me taste you."

The raw need in his voice sent a jolt straight to your core. He was begging. Reiner—the man who had once been so confident, so sure of himself—was now on his knees for you, looking up at you like you were the only thing that could save him.

You swallowed hard, your pulse hammering in your throat. You also didn't expect it to go like this. The Reiner that you knew back then presented himself to be some kind of big leader, something you admired because of how he never seemed to let it go to his head. He was one of the strongest, but he was humble.

So seeing him like this, desperate between your legs, felt almost like culture shock.

But even so, being with him, feeling him, talking to him all felt so good. So good you could cry. "Okay," you breathed, nodding.

His fingers trembled slightly as he undid the fastenings of your pants, tugging them down your legs along with your underwear. Your cunt was already pathetically wet just from making out, and suddenly you just wanted to close your legs so he wouldn't see how much he affected you. Stubborn pride still warred inside you even now. The cool air of the cabin ghosted over your exposed skin, but it was nothing compared to the heat of Reiner’s breath as he leaned in, pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss to the inside of your thigh.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, making your heart swell.

Reiner’s hands spread your thighs wider, his thumbs brushing over the damp curls between them. His breath stuttered when he saw how wet you were, his fingers tracing your folds with agonizing slowness.

“Fuck,” he muttered, voice wrecked.

He kissed at your inner thighs some more, almost like he just couldn't get enough of the simple action. He'd lick at them, suck them, anything. Reiner was willing to drag this out, it seemed.

"Has anyone ever done this for you before?" Reiner asked, his tone carrying a mix of emotions, staring up at you with his pretty hazel eyes as he kissed at the soft skin of your thighs. Deep down, he selfishly hoped no one else had gotten to see you like this—feel you like this.

Your breath hitched at the sight, unable to pull your gaze away and similarly unable to stop your arousal and need as you felt yourself wet the sheets beneath you even further. "I don't see how that's any of your business," you replied stubbornly, wanting to keep the small amount of control you still held.

That gave Reiner all the answer he needed. "Hm," he responded, careful not to anger you, careful not to upset you. but also understanding and seeing just how much you wanted this—wanted him. And equally he was exceptionally aware of the way his cock twitched in his pants, desperate to make you feel good, desperate to feel your thighs around his head and your fingers against his scalp, desperate to hear you in these moments he's imagined you in so many times.

Reiner didn’t wait for another teasing remark from you—his mouth was on you in an instant, his tongue dragging a slow, filthy stripe up your soaked cunt, groaning against you like he’d been starving for this. The sound alone made your back arch off the bunk, a sharp gasp tearing from your lips as his hands clamped down on your thighs, holding you open for him.

He was messy—no finesse, no practiced rhythm, just pure, desperate hunger. His tongue lapped at you like he was trying to memorize your taste, his nose pressing against your clit as he buried his face between your legs. Every flick of his tongue was sloppy, wet, loud, the obscene sounds of his mouth working you filling the tiny cabin. You could feel his stubble scraping against your sensitive skin, the rough drag only making the pleasure sharper, more overwhelming.

“Fuck—Reiner—” Your fingers tangled in his blonde hair, gripping hard as his tongue circled your clit before sucking it between his lips. His groan vibrated through you, his hands sliding under your ass to tilt your hips up, giving him better access as he devoured you.

He was relentless, like he’d been waiting years for this—because he had. Every muffled sound he made against your cunt, every time his tongue plunged inside you only to drag back up, every time his lips sealed around your clit to suck—it was all too much, and yet you never wanted it to stop.

His enthusiasm was almost embarrassing, the way he moaned into you like he was the one being pleasured, his hips moving against his hand as he rubbed his cock through his pants. You could feel the wetness of your own arousal smeared across his chin, and the sight alone had your thighs trembling around his head.

Drool mixed with your arousal, dripping down his chin as he ate you out like a man possessed. His hands gripped your thighs, spreading you wider, keeping you open for him as his tongue plunged inside you, fucking into you with rough, eager strokes before retreating to suck your clit again.

"Taste so good," he panted against you, his voice wrecked. "Fuck, fuck, I knew you would—"

His words cut off into a groan as he redoubled his efforts, his tongue flicking rapidly over your clit before he sealed his lips around it again, sucking hard. The wet, filthy sounds of his mouth on you filled the cabin, obscene and perfect, and you could feel the way his hips rocked slightly against the bunk, rutting into nothing as he got off on just tasting you.

"Been thinking about this—" he rasped, pulling back just enough to speak before diving back in, his tongue circling your clit in tight, relentless circles. "—every night—"

His fingers dug into your thighs, leaving marks as he held you down, refusing to let you squirm away from the overwhelming pleasure.

"Close," you choked out, your hips jerking against his mouth. "I’m so close—"

Reiner growled, the sound vibrating through you as he sucked your clit into his mouth one last time, his tongue flicking over it rapidly—

And then you were coming, your back bowing off the bunk as pleasure crashed through you in waves. He didn’t let up, licking you through it, swallowing every drop of you as you shuddered and gasped above him.

When you finally went limp, panting, he pulled back just enough to look up at you.

His chest heaved, his eyes dark with need. But above that, it was like he needed some confirmation he did good.

"Fuck," he breathed. "Are you okay?"

Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him up your body until his weight settled over you, pressing you deeper into the thin mattress. His skin was fever-hot, his muscles taut with restraint, but his eyes—those damn hazel eyes—were soft, almost reverent, as he looked down at you.

You didn't answer, not verbally at least.

Your hand slid into his hair, gripping tight as you dragged his mouth to yours, kissing him deeply, tasting yourself on his tongue. A rough groan tore from his throat, his hips jerking forward instinctively, the hard length of his cock grinding against your still-sensitive clit through his pants.

His groan was muffled against your mouth as you licked into him, your fingers tightening in his hair. You could feel the way his body shuddered when you nipped at his bottom lip, the way his hips jerked forward instinctively, grinding his cock—so fucking hard against your thigh.

“God, you’re—” His voice broke as you kissed him again, rougher this time, your teeth dragging over his lip. His hands gripped your waist, fingers digging in like he was afraid you’d vanish if he let go. “Fuck, I need—please—”

"Reiner," you breathed, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "Please fuck me."

You could feel it—the way his entire body trembled with the effort of holding back, the way his breath came in ragged bursts against your mouth. His hands fumbled with his belt, his fingers shaking as he undid the buckle, his cock springing free, thick and flushed and aching for you.

Reiner didn’t waste another second.

He hooked his hands under your knees, spreading you wider, his gaze locked on where your slick glistened between your thighs. His breath hitched, his cock twitching against your stomach as he lined himself up, the blunt head pressing against your entrance.

“Look at me,” he demanded, his voice rough.

You did.

His eyes burned into yours as he pushed inside, slow, so agonizingly slow, his jaw clenched tight as he fought to keep control. The stretch was delicious, the way your walls fluttered around him making his hips stutter.

“Fuck,” he gritted out, his fingers digging into your thighs. “You feel—Christ—you feel even better than I imagined.”

And then he was seated fully inside you, his hips flush against yours, his cock buried to the hilt. For a moment, neither of you moved—just breathed, just felt, the weight of years of longing crashing over you both.

Then—because he needed to see it, needed to know this was real—he leaned back on his heels, pulling out almost all the way just to watch the way your cunt clung to him, glistening and desperate, before slamming back in. His cock disappeared inside you, your wetness coating his dick as your body stretched to take him.

The sound you made was sinful.

Reiner’s hips snapped forward again, harder this time, his cock dragging against your walls in a way that made your toes curl. His grip shifted from your wrist to your hip, holding you in place as he fucked into you with slow, deep strokes—like he was savoring every second, like he wanted to memorize the way your body took him.

His dick glistened with your arousal, disappearing inside you with each thrust, your cunt gripping him like it was made for him. He couldn’t look away—couldn’t stop the way his breath hitched as he watched himself fuck into you, over and over, your body taking him so perfectly.

Reiner’s rhythm was relentless, each deep stroke dragging a gasp from your lips. His broad palm slid down your stomach, fingers gliding through your slick until his thumb found your clit, rubbing tight, rough circles that made your toes curl.

"There you go," he murmured, voice thick with praise as he watched your face twist in pleasure. "So fucking pretty when you take me like this. Can’t believe you’re real—can’t believe I get to have you."

You whimpered, your hips lifting to meet his thrusts, desperate for more, for everything. Reiner moaned at the way your body clenched around him, his thumb pressing harder against your clit.

"Love the way you take me," he panted, his thumb pressing harder against your clit. "Like you were made for me, huh? Made to take my cock just like this—shit—"

Then, without warning, he leaned forward, his chest pressing flush against yours, his weight pinning you completely beneath him. The new angle made him sink deeper, his cock hitting a spot inside you that had your vision whiting out for a second.

"There," he rasped, his breath hot against your ear. "That’s it, sweetheart. Let me have you just like this—fuck—"

His thrusts turned slower but impossibly harder, each one dragging a broken moan from your lips. His fingers tangled in your hair, tilting your head back so he could kiss you again, swallowing your gasps like he needed them to survive.

He braced himself above you, muscles taut, sweat glistening on his skin as he watched your face—every flutter of your lashes, every bitten-off moan—like he was memorizing you all over again.

His hips rolled into yours with a deep, almost reverent grind, pressing so deep you could feel him in your ribs. Your breath hitched as he lingered there, his tip nudging that perfect, aching spot inside you before pulling back with a slow, torturous drag that made your toes curl.

"Feel how deep I am?" he breathed, his fingers tightening on your hip as he rocked into you again, slow and unhurried, as if he had all the time in the world. "Fuck, you’re perfect."

His voice was wrecked, his body trembling with the effort of holding back. But he didn’t rush—just kept moving inside you with that same maddening pace, every thrust a sweet torment.

"Could stay like this forever," he admitted, his lips brushing your jaw. "Just like this—buried inside you, feeling you clench around me like you never wanna let me go."

"Reiner," you whined.

"I've got you," he responded, hips never stopping.

And when your back arched, your body tightening around him, he didn’t speed up—just kept fucking you through it, his lips pressed to your neck, whispering praise as pleasure washed over you in waves.

Reiner’s thrusts grew more erratic, his control slipping as your walls fluttered around him, pulling him deeper with each desperate clench. His breath came in ragged gasps, his forehead pressed against yours as he fought to hold on just a little longer.

“I—fuck—I’m close,” he groaned, his voice rough with need. His fingers dug into your hips, his rhythm faltering as pleasure coiled tight in his gut.

You arched beneath him, nails scraping down his back as you panted, “Inside… please, Reiner—I want you to cum inside me.”

His entire body tensed at your words, a shudder running through him. He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his own dark with lust and something dangerously close to worship.

“Are you—fuck—are you sure?” he rasped, hips stuttering as he struggled to keep his pace steady.

You nodded, biting your lip as you clenched around him deliberately, drawing a broken groan from his lips.

“Yes,” you breathed. “Want to feel you—all of you.”

That was all it took.

Reiner’s restraint shattered.

"Fuck—gonna fill you up so good," he panted, his forehead dropping against yours. "Gonna make sure you feel it—"

You clenched around him, your own climax building again, and he cursed, his rhythm faltering.

"Come with me," he demanded, his voice wrecked. "Wanna feel you cum on my cock while I’m deep inside you—fuck—please—"

His words tipped you over the edge. Pleasure crashed through you, your body tightening around him in waves, and Reiner lost it.

With a growl that was almost feral, he slammed into you one last time, burying himself to the hilt as his cock pulsed inside you, hot and thick. His body shuddered violently, his fingers gripping you like a lifeline as he spilled deep, his release filling you in waves.

You could feel him pulsing inside you, his cock twitching as he rode out his orgasm, his forehead pressed to yours. When he finally stilled, he didn’t pull away—just stayed there, his body heavy and warm against yours, his breath slowly steadying.

After a long moment, he lifted his head, his gaze soft as he brushed a sweaty strand of hair from your face.

"Okay?" he murmured, his thumb tracing your cheekbone.

You nodded, your fingers lazily tracing the muscles of his back.

Reiner exhaled, something like relief—or maybe wonder—flickering in his eyes before he leaned down, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your lips.

"Good," he murmured against your mouth.

You lay in comfortable silence for what felt like hours but was likely only minutes, Reiner's weight pressing you into the thin mattress, his breath warm against your neck. His fingers traced lazy patterns on your skin, as though memorizing the feel of you. Neither of you wanted to break the spell, to acknowledge the world waiting outside this small cabin.

"I love you," you whispered finally, the words escaping before you could think better of them. They hung in the air between you, raw and honest.

Reiner stilled, his breath catching. Slowly, he raised himself up on his elbows to look at you, his hazel eyes searching yours with an intensity that made your heart skip. For a terrible moment, you thought you'd said too much, revealed too much of yourself to someone who had once betrayed you.

But then his expression softened, a genuine smile—one you hadn't seen in years—spreading across his face. "I love you too," he said, his voice steady and sure. "I always have."

He leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours. "I know it doesn't change anything," he murmured. "I know it doesn't make up for what I did. But it's true."

His eyes grew serious again. "Whatever happens with Eren, with the Rumbling… I'm going to protect you. I promise."

Before you could respond, a sharp knock at the door made you both jump.

"Hey, you two done?" Connie's voice called through the thin wood. "There's food up on the deck if you're interested. Kinda limited, but better than nothing."

You and Reiner exchanged wide-eyed looks before scrambling to get dressed, movements frantic and clumsy in the small space. Your fingers fumbled with buttons and clasps as you tried to make yourselves presentable.

"Uh, yeah," Reiner called back, his voice remarkably steady considering his panicked expression. "We'll be right there."

You could hear the smirk in Connie's voice as he replied, "Take your time. Not like we can hear everything through these paper-thin walls or anything."

Your face burned as you hurriedly tucked in your shirt. Reiner looked equally mortified, though a small, almost boyish grin played at the corners of his mouth when your eyes met.

"Ready?" he asked softly, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

You nodded, taking a deep breath before opening the door. Connie was waiting in the narrow corridor, a knowing grin splitting his face. Without a word, he turned and headed up the stairs, gesturing for you both to follow.

Reiner went first, and you couldn't help but notice the way Connie immediately engaged him in animated conversation as they climbed, acting as though nothing unusual had happened at all. Their voices faded slightly as they reached the deck above.

Jean appeared at your side as you finished climbing the stairs.

"So," he said, raising an eyebrow. "I take it the talk went well?"

You felt heat rise to your cheeks. "Yeah, really well," you replied, hoping that Connie was just teasing and no one else heard a thing.

"I just mean," he continued, a stupid and annoying grin on your face, "when I suggested you two clear the air, I didn't necessarily mean you should bring down the whole ship with your—"

Your face burned with embarrassment and fury. "I will literally throw you overboard, Jean," you hissed, shoving his shoulder hard enough to make him stumble back. "I swear to God—"

Jean laughed, ducking away from your next swing. "Hey, I'm happy for you guys! Honestly!" He held up his hands in surrender, still grinning as he backed up the stairs. "Just doing my part as your friend to give you shit about it."

#attack on titan #aot #snk #reiner braun #reiner braun x reader smut #reiner smut #reiner x reader #reiner braun x reader #smut #reiner x reader smut

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7-deadly-cats · 29 days ago

Text

killing me softly | 18

K M S M A S T E R L I S T | <- P R E V I O U S | N E X T ->

✿ G E N R E ✿ she fell first, he fell harder | slice of life | drama

✿ P A I R I N G ✿ s1!rafe cameron x overthinking!reader (f)

✿ C O N T E N T W A R N I N G ✿ swearing, suggestive language & themes, hints at jjpope, cursed chat pics, mention of abusive household (aka rafe's), hints at reader getting turned on lmao, gentleman!rafe, reader one sec away from hyperventilating, slightly jealous!reader, awkward!rafe (um.. you'll see why), also FLUFF

✿ S U M M A R Y O F L A S T P A R T ✿ after rafe dropped you off at the beach, cara dragged you to meet sarah, kiara and cleo. everyone was nice, though kiara questioned what was going on with you and rafe. in the restroom of bob's iceshack, cara admitted she wasn’t sure if she wanted to hook up with jj. your conclusion: she was torn between him and topper. later, rafe texted saying he saw sarah’s story and wanted to pick you up an hour later. after some back and forth, you agreed on 7:30pm. still, you couldn’t help but wonder why he was suddenly so eager. after hanging out with the pogues for a while, you dipped. john b offered a ride for tomorrow’s open air movie night. back in rafe’s car, he called them losers but backed off when you questioned it. after some pushing, he finally admitted he felt like everyone was choosing sarah over him. you tried to reassure him and concluded (internally) that ward cameron was the root for his issues. during your late night drive you got mcdonald’s, and finally, he dropped you off with a surprise: a my little pony bracelet from a gas station to prove he wasn’t playing you. in bed, you showed the bracelet to the girls in the new group chat. last surprise of the day: the mirror selfie from rafe aka the same one you’d stared at earlier.

✿ W O R D C O U N T ✿ 13.5k+ (longest chapter yet help + max use of chat screenshots so prepare for a LONG reading session)

✿ A / N ✿ GUYS I TRIED WITH THIS ONE BUT i kinda feel like the second half sucks, and also it feels extremely rushed if we take the pace of the other days of the week into consideration but well guess it wouldn't have made sense to drag out sunday for no reason. i also feel like i fucked up the ending by the direction i've chosen but i kinda gave up lmao. i probably could've explored the full potential of this setting and, IDK AHHHH. dw there's gonna be a part 2 of the event. anyway, have fun reading and PLEASE lmk what you think, this chapter gave me sm anxiety <3

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a little warning: avoid the comment section bc of spoilers 🤣

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W E E K O N E // S U N D A Y 1 1 : 1 7 A M

"Okay, where did we leave off again?" you asked Cara as you made yourself comfortable in your little windowsill nook. "My brain is so full, I can’t keep track of anything anymore."

Cara chuckled. "Oh, I know exactly what it’s full of. Mr. ‘Let me give the girl I like a friendship bracelet so it’s not too obvious that I’m completely down bad for her.’"

A giggle slipped out and your cheeks instantly flushed. "You're gonna lose it when I tell you this next part."

“She’s already losing it,” came a voice, and your heart dropped to your stomach.

OH MY GOD, now that you saw the wall behind Cara… NO WAY. GIRL ACTUALLY SPENT THE NIGHT IN JJS WONDERLAND OMGGGG.

Cara scoffed, amused, and turned her phone to show JJ pulling a shirt over his very bare chest. You were so glad he at least had boxers on.

“Say hi and get out,” she said.

JJ looked up with a “Hey, my room,” and winked into the camera with a big-ass grin when he spotted you. “She’s even louder in bed.”

Too. Much. Information.

You just stared, stunned, and gave him an awkward little smile.

Cara rolled her eyes and turned the phone back to her face. “Chop chop, Dig’s waiting for his morning walk.”

“Not sure the leash’s even usable anymore.”

GUYSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS.

Cara stared flatly into the camera. “He's joking.”

OKAY THEN.

“Okay, okay. The leash only almost came into play,” JJ called out, followed by a loud “Hey!” as Cara threw a pillow at him.

“Out. Now. This is a girl-to-girl talk,” she said. “Village idiots not allowed.”

JJ chuckled. “More of a jester anyway.”

Then came a soft thud, which you took as him finally leaving the room.

“Okay, where were we?” Cara looked into the camera with a blinking smile.

You blinked back. “So, I guess, you don’t wanna—”

“Nope.”

“Aight.”

Cara cleared her throat. “Sooo, the last update I got from you and Loverboy is basically just what you'd said in your voice memo last night. He brought your bag back, then you guys spent the afternoon together. He dropped you off, picked you back up later, and by the end of the night practically proposed, right?”

Um… something like that.

You’d obviously left out a lot in that memo. As sweet and welcoming as the Pogue girls were, you’d literally only known them for a day, and you didn’t exactly feel comfy going full overshare just yet. And considering one of them was Rafe’s sister, you weren’t gonna bring up his little hate-rant about her or start gossiping about him behind his back.

But Cara was different. She was your best friend. You could tell her everything.

And you did. You told her about lunch with your parents, your trip to Bulk & Bloom and Barry’s pawn shop, your full-on spiral that you and Rafe had talked through in the car, and of course your evening trip to McDonald's and how he'd walked you to the front door like a freaking gentleman.

You did leave out his angsty little moment in the car, though. He’d opened up to you so honestly, you didn’t want to betray that trust. Plus, it felt… special. Like something just for the two of you.

But the important stuff? Oh, you shared that.

Your parents basically already adopting him, Barry’s well-meant warning, OH and obviously the insanely awkward moment when Rafe had caught you scrolling through his chat with Kelce.

AND OF COURSE, the most insane, messed-up, crazy thing he’d said: that you were a cute chick and he’d (quote) bend you over in the backseat of his car if you said the word.

“WHAT!?”

Your phone speaker peaked just a little.

You chuckled, cheeks flushed. “Well, yeah, he—”

“WHAT?”

Another laugh escaped your mouth. Cara stared at you, eyes wide and jaw dropped like you’d just told her Harry Styles invited you to his private villa.

“GIRL, I—” She exhaled like she’d just sprinted a marathon. “I don’t even… holy fucking shit, like, oh my Jesus Christ, good Lord and all the heavens above.”

When Cara started praying, you knew shit was actually insane.

You giggled. “Now imagine what was going on in my head. The fact I managed to function after that is honestly one of the seven wonders of the world.”

"The fact that you didn’t immediately jump him and rip his clothes off—that is the miracle," she shot back, still staring at you like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. "I MEAN WHAT? Like, my kitty would’ve gone straight to—"

“OKAY!”

Cara shook her head like a madwoman. “Y/N! That boy is so down bad for you, how do you not see it?” She sighed, shaking her phone. “Like HELLO? Rafe Cameron said out loud that he’s into you.”

"Sexual attraction and having a crush are two completely different things," you argued.

Cara frowned dramatically. “How oblivious do you wanna be? Yes.” You heard frantic tapping sounds as she smashed at her screen. “He gifted you a fucking bracelet. Rafe Cameron. The guy who’s known for doing absolutely nothing for any girl, like, ever. What more do you need? He said you’re cute. He said he likes you. He said he ENJOYS spending time with you. And what else? OH RIGHT, that he wants to hang out even after your little project dates are over AND THAT HE WANTS TO CLAP YOUR CHEEKS.” She shook her head like she was malfunctioning. “THIS SCREAMS GET READY TO BE MY GIRLFRIEND.”

Did it?

UM, YEAH, KINDA DID.

Fucking hell, Cara could really make even the most chaotic shit sound like it followed cold, hard logic.

But here's the thing: Rafe was a direct guy. If he had no problem saying he’d sleep with you, surely he wouldn’t have a problem saying he was into you like that (hypothetically speaking, of course).

Which kind of threw her whole argument out the window again.

You shook your head. “This sounds more like, ‘I’ve never had a female friend before, and now that I do, guess I’m gonna keep her around.’”

“So you do realize he wants you,” Cara replied.

You let out a tired sigh. “Yeah, I guess, but not like that. I don’t know how to explain it… I just think he likes the idea of having a girl around.” You tilted your head. “Like with Topper and Kelce, he’s this kinda toxic-bro-masculine-alpha type. And I guess he misses the fun flirty energy." Then you remembered his emotional outburst last night. “And I feel like with me, he also doesn’t put on a front. I don’t know.”

Cara stared you down, deadpan. “That is literally the ideal foundation for a relationship.”

“Or for a really good friendship,” you countered.

How were you supposed to explain to her that this poor boy probably just wanted someone to see him for who he really was? Like, the frustration he let out last night—the way he basically admitted, without saying it directly, that he was scared of being abandoned.

And that could always happen in a relationship. In a short-term hookup? Inevitable. But a good friend? Ideally, that was someone you could have for life. And the fact you were a girl—just a side note in the whole equation.

“Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah.” Cara rolled her eyes. “So what you’re telling me is, he puts in all this effort just so he can call you his friend and still flirt for fun? Make it make sense.”

"Yeah, but, C," you said with a chuckle. "That's literally how our friendship works too. We both put effort into each other, that’s what friends do, and don’t even get me started on the flirting. Like according to your logic, I should question your intentions as well."

Cara curled her lips. "... okay, you kinda have a point there."

You nodded with a See? look on your face.

"But," she continued, "we’re girl best friends. You and him? That’s a whole different thing."

You raised an amused brow. "Are you seriously trying to tell me that a guy and a girl can’t have a platonic relationship?"

Cara scowled. "No, of course not, but—"

"But I’m okay with the way it is," you said with a soft smile. "I have no problem with just being friends with Rafe. Honestly, it might even be better this way. I don’t have to worry about screwing it up, or God," you chuckled nervously, "all my other insecurities."

Cara let out a sigh. “You really are the biggest mystery to me, girl. You’ve been crushing on this guy since fifth grade. And now, when you finally have the chance to actually make something happen, like, he’s literally offering you the perfect foundation, you just settle for the easiest option.”

Less risk of being disappointed. Less chance of embarrassing yourself. Less chance to lose whatever it was you two had built in just a few days. Accepting Rafe as a friend was the easy choice, yeah, but it was also the safest.

But you knew exactly what Cara would say to that: she’d start pushing you to take a chance, make a move, break out of your shell for once.

"Okay, look at it this way," you said with a playful eye roll. "A relationship can always grow from a friendship. Does that help?"

You doubted that would actually happen, but at least it would shut Cara up for now.

She chuckled and wiggled her shoulders. "Friends to lovers? Uhh, now you got me." She raised her eyebrows with a lopsided grin. "So… does that also apply to us, orrrr…?"

You quickly steered the conversation back to her. More specifically her evening with the Pogues, dinner at the Chateau later on, and eventually the magical night she had with JJ. Kiara, Pope, and Cleo had left at some point, leaving just Cara, John B, Sarah, and JJ behind.

The exact details and noises from that night, however, Cara could gladly keep to herself.

Anyway, her dad called a little later to tell her to come home—her grandparents were visiting to celebrate her mom’s birthday belatedly. With a quick "Oh shit, we’ll text later", your little call came to an end.

You’d barely touched the ground with your feet, just getting off your windowsill corner and ready to change out of your sleepwear into something actually wearable, when your phone buzzed again.

And what greeted you? Yeah…

Geez, it wasn’t even noon and your pulse was already at 180.

First Cara fueling your delusions, then Rafe and his newfound hobby (or more like obsession) with your reaction pics (UM THE FACT THAT HE'D DOWNLOADED PINTEREST FOR IT???) and how he instantly went into full-attack mode just at the mention of you being in the girlies’ group chat, like bro, we get it, you’re terrified of abandonment but PLEASE CALM DOWN I AIN'T GOING NOWHERE. And then back to Cara, aka the fact that you’d now have to endure the drive to the open air event without her.

Honestly, that last part was the least of your worries because if you'd managed to survive half of Kelce’s party solo (okay, with Topper, Molly, and Rob), then you could totally handle a short car ride.

No, what really had you spiraling was how comfortable Rafe had gotten with you in just one day. Like, hello? First the mirror selfie last night, and then those reaction pics this morning (okay, more like noon, oops), AND THEN THE FACT THAT HE STRAIGHT UP ADMITTED (or hopefully joked) that he'd had a little private session this morning, DUDE COME ON.

HELP AND THE FACT THAT THAT SENT YOU INTO INSTANT BRAIN CINEMA MODE OF A HALF NAKED, HEAVY BREATHING RAFE, BOXERS AROUND HIS ANKLES, EYES CLOSED, HEAD PRESSED BACK INTO THE PILLOW OR DESK CHAIR (WHO KNEW), HAND AROUND HIS—NOPENOPENOPENOPEHELPPP

Jesus Christ, suddenly there was a tingling sensation in your lower body and the urgent need to open the windows to cool your body down because your cheeks? On fucking fire. Not even mentioning the heart rate and that warm, funny feeling between your—OKAY ENOUGH HOLY SHIT.

You gotta be ovulating or something because that? What the actual fuck.

HAHAHAHHAA ANYWAY.

Lunch.

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"How's Rafe?" That was one of the first questions your dad asked once you all sat down in the dining room.

Great. Not even here you could escape the topic.

To make things worse, both your mom and dad were giving you this smirky look that screamed You were out late last night: Should we be getting excited about our future son-in-law?

UGHHH. It was so awkward, and if you even dared to give a shy smile or deflect it, it would only make everything ten times worse.

So you just shrugged and poured yourself a glass of water. “He’s doing okay, I think.”

Your dad let out an amused breath. “And his cheek? That looked pretty nasty yesterday. He should’ve iced it right away, then it wouldn’t have swollen like that.”

Trust me, I told him.

“Yeah, it looks worse than it is,” you said, adding, “he popped an ibuprofen yesterday.”

He had, actually. Swallowed it right in the McDonald’s parking lot with a Coke Zero. Like seriously, how was this guy even still alive?

You half expected them to hit you with a “You two were gone a long time—what exactly were you doing?” or some other nosy questions. But instead, the energy at the table shifted.

Your mom raised her brows slightly, concern (???) flickering in her expression. “And… at home? Is everything okay there too?”

um… what.

Your dad seemed to catch the confusion on your face. “It’s just, we've been wondering...” he let out a dry chuckle, “I’ve seen bruises, cracked ribs, busted faces—pretty much everything—my whole career. And that bruise? If he’d actually been hit with a golf club, I probably would've been patching him up in the ER Friday night.”

Oh. So your dad had seen right through Rafe's lie.

Well, of course, he had. Taking care of people was his job. He had to know the difference between different kinds of wounds and bruises.

But from the way your parents were hinting at it… did they actually think Rafe was getting hit at home? That was… wow.

But telling them what really happened aka Rafe almost starting a fight—you really didn’t want to paint him in that light. Didn’t matter that he’d stood up for you.

“No idea,” you said, furrowing your brows as you poked around your plate. “I think things are fine at home too.”

Your mom tilted her head with a soft smile. “But you don’t know for sure?”

Your overthinking, spiraling, constantly-needing-answers issue? Mhm, yeah, you definitely got that from her.

“No, I mean, I barely know him,” you replied. “Are you seriously thinking he’s getting abused at home or something?”

Then again… okay, you didn’t know Ward personally, but something in your gut told you there was something off about him. Especially after the realization you'd had last night: Him probably being the root of Rafe’s issues.

Your dad leaned back. “Well, speaking as a dad, I’ve got a feeling there’s tension at home. I’m not accusing Ward of hitting his kids, I’m just guessing Rafe’s relationship with him is… strained.” He shifted in his seat. “And my gut? It’s never been wrong.”

O-kay. So apparently your parents had picked up on the same thing after interacting with Rafe once. Wow.

“Ward’s always been a difficult person,” your mom added. “Back in college, he was super ambitious, driven, competitive. Always pushing. Expecting the best results from himself and everyone around him. And anyone who held him back or got in his way? Didn’t stay in his way for long.”

Obviously he hadn’t killed anyone, so you just assumed he either threatened, manipulated, or schemed his way around people.

Your mom sighed. “And truth is, I know Rafe’s not exactly an easy kid. Rose told me he often takes off for hours and doesn’t come home until midnight. And school? Apparently not going so great either.”

Something about talking about Rafe behind his back like this… it just didn’t feel right.

“Rose isn’t his mother, though.” Shit. What a dumb thing to say.

Your mom furrowed her brows. “She tries to be. It’s not easy for someone like her to reach someone like Rafe.”

"Someone like him? "You raised your brows.

What the hell was that supposed to mean? And why were you suddenly feeling so defensive, HELP.

“Y/n,” your dad’s voice was gentle but firm. “Rafe seems like a good boy, I’m not doubting that. But it just feels like… something’s off. And the most likely explanation is that things at home aren’t exactly stable.”

He pressed his lips together, a flicker of hesitation in his eyes. “I’m not trying to accuse Ward of anything or scare you, but… when I wanted to check the skin on Rafe’s cheek, he flinched when I raised my hand to do so. Not a dramatic reaction, just this quick startled blink, but in my head, every alarm bell went off.”

And that made your heart clench in the worst, most painful way.

Sure, maybe your dad had misread a harmless blink or twitch but deep down, you knew that wasn’t it. And the thought that Rafe might actually be getting hit by his own dad… GOSH, THIS BOY.

Drug problems, anger issues, and a toxic household? This guy didn’t need a girlfriend, he needed a loving family.

No. He needed a real dad.

“That doesn’t mean the bruise had to have come from home,” your dad continued, and his tone softened a little. “Honestly, I just assume he got into some testosterone-fueled fight at whatever party you were at.” He chuckled. “Thinking back to the way I used to look after I boxed with the guys from the 44th… that bruise is practically a scratch.”

Not your dad just casually dropping new lore.

Your mom rolled her eyes, mock-annoyed, the corners of her lips twitching with a smile. “I was the one who had to play nurse back then.”

OKAY NOPE YOU DID NOT LIKE THAT SMILEY LOOK ON HER FACE. DID NOT NEED TO KNOW THAT.

Luckily, your dad circled back to the actual point: “We’re just concerned. We’re both parents—we notice when something’s off with a kid. As a doctor who’s seen lots of children with seemingly perfect parents, I can tell you: eyes never lie. And Ward may be a great family man, but that doesn’t automatically make him a great father.”

He let out a heavy breath. “Abuse can show up in so many ways, not just physically. So if you ever notice anything, please don’t hesitate to come to us, okay?”

Well, this sunny Sunday just got very not sunny, very fast. Like… how did we go from “How’s your hopefully-soon-to-be boyfriend?” to child abuse—HELLO??

You didn’t even know what to say.

You were touched by their concern, the way they weren’t judging Rafe in the slightest. But also overwhelmed by how heavy the topic had just gotten. Sure, your parents did always notice this kind of thing right away but now that your suspicions had basically been confirmed by them...

Yeah, that didn’t sit well with you at all.

Of course, none of you really knew what was going on in the Cameron household. But if all of you had arrived at roughly the same conclusion, then either you were all operating on the same overthinking, assume-the-worst type of brain…

Or something was actually going on.

Both, you thought bitterly.

So all you did was nod with a somewhat forced smile and said, “Okay.”

Your parents nodded, seemingly relieved. And of course, since you were already on the topic of Rafe, they circled back to yesterday. Asking questions like, “So where did you guys go afterward?”, “How’s your school project coming along?”, “Did Cara give you that cute bracelet?” and dropping comments like, “He seemed very smiley around you,” and “Feel free to invite him over for dinner again.”

And just when the conversation was dangerously close to veering into the Safe Sex territory, you excused yourself from the table, mentioned that you’d be going to the Open Air tonight, brought your plate to the kitchen, and thanked Mary for the food.

Back in your room, you exhaled.

Wow. Apparently, there was no such thing as a break this week. But the fact that your parents thought you and Rafe would look cute together? AKCKKANFALJKD.

Also, the whole thing about how you both apparently glowed around each other? If Cara had said that? Yeah well, no, delusional queen just back again with her delusions. But your parents? Who were basically professionals when it came to reading people—your dad being a literal doctor, and your mom a CEO in sales, aka someone who had to be good with people—If they said Rafe liked you?

Fuck, then it had to be true.

Okay okay, he had kinda already said it twice himself—once just yesterday in the car—but STILL OMGMGM.

Okay okay, calm the fuck down.

You just became friends, no need to start building your wedding Pinterest board.

You played with the bracelet around your wrist as you sat down at your desk, smiling to yourself like a damn idiot at the soft rustling sound.

The way it fit just right around your wrist and how FUCKING CUTE IT LOOKED. Gosh, the fact that Rafe had thought of you when he'd spotted it, and then actually bought it for you and gave it to you AHHHHHH. AND JESUS, THEN HE'D BEEN ALL CUTE AND AWKWARD AND NERVOUS WHEN HE'D HANDED IT TO YOU.

HELLO??? Rafe fucking Cameron being awkward AND nervous around you??? As much as that made the butterflies in your stomach go into full freak-out mode, more than anything, it made you feel like a total winner lol.

I’m fine. I’m cool. Completely chill.

SMNJXWNDVHSJDKMXOIASJCDAVLSAÖ.

You would never get over this.

Well, you had to at least try for the next few hours. Because more important than giggling to yourself in your room like some hopelessly lovesick little girl was actually getting ready for tonight.

Okay, it was barely past 1 PM, buuuut you’d gladly take all the time you could get.

Sooo, Cara was probably busy with family stuff right now—spending the day with her grandparents and parents and all—so yeah, no chance of calling her.

Molly maybe? You knew she was also coming tonight because you’d heard her talking about it at Kelce’s party. AND HOLY SHIT YOU DESPERATELY NEEDED TO KNOW WHAT WENT DOWN BETWEEN HER AND KELCE OGMGMGM.

Never mind. Her little Bitmoji was currently chilling at Kelce’s place on the map, so there was your answer.

So Molly was out too. Sure, she’d probably be happy to chat with you—hell, Kelce too probably—but you didn’t want to interrupt these lovebirds (hookup partners??? soon-to-be-married??? WHO KNEW).

Hm. Okay.

Six hours until the boys were picking you up.

Well, you could always sit out on your balcony and sketch a little. You hadn’t really had the chance lately. The past few days had kept you on your toes so much that you'd barely had the energy to sketch a stick figure. And on top of that, the art project with Rafe had kinda sucked most of your creative brain juice dry too.

Senior Year was already a lot and it had barely even started yet. And now The Gloaming was right around the corner—next Friday, to be exact—and well, you were really not looking forward to that.

Midsummers was at least really nice, casual and fun. Dressing up in cute summery dresses, getting tipsy on overpriced prosecco and wine, giggling over boys in suits, and it just had this soft, fairycore kind of vibe to it.

The Gloaming, on the other hand? A school event.

Unlike Midsummers, it wasn’t held at the Cameron Estate, but at a big event venue on the North Side near the beach. One the mayor himself dubbed “Garden Eden.”

It was purely a Kook event, which… yeah, made sense, since it was organized by the Kildare Academy, which was technically a Kook school. But like, couldn’t they have at least teamed up with the South Side High School?

Sure, some Pogues would show up but only as workers. Bartenders, cooks, waiters, janitors who had to clean up everyone’s mess the next morning.

Anyway, this whole class division thing was deeply rooted in the Outer Banks. No point in getting all worked up about it.

And the worst part about The Gloaming? The absolutely RIDICULOUS amount of GOSSIP surrounding it. Gossip at KA was always present, but for some reason, this event turned everyone into real-life Gossip Girl contestants or whatever.

Who went with whom, who cheated on who, who wore the cheapest dress, whose parents were getting divorced, which guy bagged the most girls, and a bunch of other completely braindead nonsense you honestly wanted to stay far, far, far away from.

Unfortunately, your parents loved going. Catching up with old classmates, schmoozing, socializing, and Cara did too. So yeah, they always dragged you along. Plus, it was basically an unofficially mandatory high school event. No way you were risking a dip in your GPA just because you skipped it.

SPEAKING OF GPA.

SHIT.

Shitshitshitshitshit. THE MATH TEST TOMORROW.

Fuck.

You’d completely forgotten. Mrs. Richman had even given your class a friendly reminder last Monday.

Shit.

Well yeah, of course you’d blocked it out. Right before that class, Mr. Smith had put you in a project group with Rafe, and that had basically hijacked your entire brain.

Okay, okay, okay. No panic.

You’d sit down now, study a bit for the next five hours and thirty minutes, and then you’d still have half an hour to get ready for the Open Air.

HAHAHAHAHA TOTALLY DOABLE.

That was, if Rafe wasn’t constantly sending you random reaction pics slash memes slash kinda very suggestive fairycore-slash-emo-wolf pics.

Apparently, Pinterest was his new hobby.

Good for him (and honestly, kinda cute), but not for you. You had a math test to prep for.

And as much as you wanted to send stuff back because RAFE USING THOSE PICS IN THE FIRST PLACE AHHHHHH, you really couldn’t afford to fail math.

So you decided it was time to shut down his spamming.

With a laugh, you switched your phone to airplane mode and set it on the edge of your desk. No reply, because this would go on forever if you didn’t put a stop to it yourself.

This seriously required your maximum amount of self-control not to keep texting him, because GOSH, this felt like some kind of cute little silly version of Rafe.

You basically had the privilege of witnessing firsthand how he discovered Pinterest for himself—or, well, the cursed side of it—and all that just because of you. It was kinda wholesome. Like a dumb little boy realizing for the first time that dinosaurs were cool.

GIRL, STOP DRIFTING OFF.

You seriously needed to focus now. (Well, not your fault Rafe kept spamming your phone hihihihi.)

So you kinda half-focused, somehow managed to study your math book, worked through a few exercises, and even half a practice test until you finally gave up around 5:30—because, in the back of your mind, Rafe and the Open Air event kept spinning in loops.

You’d totally have some more time to study later tonight or tomorrow morning.

Hahahaha. Yes. Definitely.

You turned the airplane mode off again and—Jesus Christ. 200+ messages from the girls' chat and 33 from Rafe.

You quickly skimmed through both.

The girls were just discussing plans, departure times, pre-drinks yes or no, who should be picked up first, some opinions on the movie choice for tonight (Barbie), and other stuff you kinda just skimmed past (sorry girlies, I'm in a rush).

And Rafe? A bunch of cursed and weird-ass pics that just got progressively worse, him complaining about not being able to get rid of them, plus some teasing about you being a nerd because you were studying on a Sunday, bla bla. You left those on read too. (Not sorry about it.)

You jumped in the shower, dried off fast, and dumped a whole load of clothes onto your bed. Because—

WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU SUPPOSED TO WEAR TONIGHT AHHH.

Okay okay, the basic facts:

Occasion: Open Air Movie Festival When: Evening/night Movie: Barbie (main movie) and then Transformers Weather: Actually nice, sunny, warm, but a little breezy People: Both Kooks and Pogues, maybe even some Tourons

Conclusion: I DON’T FUCKING KNOW.

Something casual and chill would be the smart move, considering you’d probably be sitting or lying most of the time. Best to throw on a jacket too, just in case. There’d probably be blankets, but still.

And of course, no sweatpants look.

You kinda wanted to dress up a bit, but still keep the vibe right. OKAY NO YOU JUST WANTED TO LOOK PRETTY. With Rafe being there and... yeah. Just Rafe.

Shit.

Now it’s official. You were picking your outfit based on a guy.

A guy you didn’t even need to impress, because, well, technically you were friends now. And you didn’t dress up for friends… right?

Okay, maybe you did it for special occasions. But you didn’t hope that said friend liked your outfit and maybe... MAYBE gave you a compliment.

NOOOOOO I’M FALLING BACK INTO MY DELUSION HOLE AHHHH.

HOW COULD YOU NOT? HIM SAYING HE’D BE DOWN TO BEND YOU OVER KIND OF IMPLIED HE’S ATTRACTED TO YOU AT LEAST A LITTLE SO…

…SO WHAT NOW?

Were you the one sending mixed signals now by dressing up a little even though you’d made it clear you weren’t into short-term hookups?

...maybe.

Anyway. HAHAHAHAHAHAHHA (i’m going crazy.)

You tried on some different outfits, scattering your clothes all over the room, and in the end, narrowed it down to two options—both of which included a dress. Because YEAH WHY NOT.

One was more chill and the other a little cuter, but both showed some leg hihihi.

You took pics of both and were just about to send them to Cara for input when Sarah beat you to it:

These girls, dude. Feeding into your delusions without a single shred of shame.

Also, holy shit, they all looked so fucking gorgeous in the outfits they’d picked out. Now you had an even harder time choosing which one you should go with.

Okay, no time left. It was already almost 6:30.

So, a coin toss it would be.

You assigned each outfit to one side of the coin, then flicked that thing up into the air, nearly smacked yourself in the forehead trying to catch it, but managed to trap it between your hands and…

That should do.

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

"Shiiii, look at you." Kelce was the first to speak as you opened the door of the white Range Rover parked outside your house.

Rafe had called you 10 minutes earlier to say they were on their way. You’d thrown your things together in a rush, said goodbye to your parents (who wished you a fun night), and waited in the driveway because no way were you risking one of them ringing the bell and getting wrapped into some awkward parent chat.

You smiled shyly and gave them a soft “Hey” as you slid into the seat behind Topper’s, next to Molly. Kelce was next to her, and Rafe sat in the passenger seat up front (of course, sitting in the back would’ve probably bruised his ego).

"That dress suits you so well," Molly said with a warm smile, and you chuckled.

She looked so unbelievably sweet herself. Her red curls hung wildly on her shoulders, and her red lipstick made the whole color pop even more. She was wearing the cutest pastel green skirt and a white corset blouse you'd ever seen and KELCE’S HAND WAS RESTING ON HER THIGH AJDNJKWNJDKW

And Kelce? Wearing a pink shirt, probably to match the Barbie movie but honestly, they looked like COSMO AND WANDA and it was just SO SWEET.

"Thank you," you said, unable to hide your grin. "I love your outfit too."

Kelce squeezed her thigh (AND SHE CHUCKLED) and added, "I deserve half the credit, I helped her pick it."

You could practically feel how much Rafe wanted to gag. Also… you felt a little (a lot) disappointed that he'd only turned his head once to glance at you without saying a word, BUT NOT GONNA LET THAT RUIN YOUR MOOD RIGHT :))))))

"So, Cara’s already gotten a ride, I heard," Topper said, the bitterness in his voice slicing straight through the mood.

You fiddled with your bag strap and nodded. "Well, yeah, she’s..." Shit. You didn’t actually know what excuse she’d given Topper, considering she was riding with John B.

"She prefers hanging out with little Pogue rats now," Rafe finished for you, dry amusement in his tone.

You couldn’t help but frown. If it was already starting like this…

"Ayo, bro," Kelce said with a chuckle, kicking Rafe’s seat. "You better behave tonight. Keep going like that and you’ll end up with a Dalmatian face full of bruises."

Wow, how was Kelce the voice of reason here? Internally, you were thankful because it meant you didn’t have to address it yourself.

Rafe scoffed and shook his head. "Not holding back if one of those fuckers starts provoking me."

Are we sure you’re not the one starting things, boy?

“Dude, don’t make me play peacemaker tonight,” Kelce shot back. “Gotta concentrate on my date.”

Molly chuckled, and you did too. THEY WERE SO CUTE.

Then your heart sank as Kelce leaned forward, pointing toward Rafe with his thumb while looking at you. "Your job tonight."

…What?

You blinked and smiled awkwardly.

“It’s not hard,” Kelce went on with a grin full of white teeth. “Keep him hydrated, stop him from talking to people, and bring up golf every now and then. That usually distracts him.”

Topper and Molly both laughed, and oh god, it was so hard not to laugh too as Rafe turned around with a scowl—first looking at you, then at Kelce.

"You’re gonna be the first fucker I beat up tonight," Rafe said, crooked grin on his lips.

Kinda cute how he always acted like Kelce pissed him off when in reality they had this weirdly wholesome friendship behind the scenes.

Kelce held up his hands as Rafe turned back around. "Ayy, thought you might appreciate the company of a pretty lady."

PLEASE.

Your cheeks heated up because that sounded dangerously like Kelce trying to play wingman or matchmaker, and somehow that made the whole situation SO FREAKING AWKWARD.

"I'd appreciate if you shut the fuck up," Rafe said, still frowning as he looked straight ahead.

This boy was so dramatic, holy shit.

THEN AGAIN, HE HADN’T DENIED WHAT KELCE HAD SAID, SO CLINGING TO THAT FACT HAHAHAAH #goingmoreinsanebytheday.

Topper cleared his throat. "So, uh, back to Cara..."

That earned a round of groans from everyone.

After some teasing of Kelce and Rafe, and some attempts at cheering Topper up by Molly and you, you all got tired of that topic (thank god because you just felt so bad for Topper), and a few minutes later you arrived at your destination anyway.

The huge gravel parking lot was already filled with cars. Some girl was directing Topper in and assigning him a spot for his big-ass Range Rover, which, as you’d found out, happened to be his mother’s.

As the engine shut off, everyone got out. Kelce helped Molly out of the car, and Topper held the door open for you while you struggled a little with your dress.

"Thanks," you said with a polite smile and slung your bag over your shoulder.

Topper looked like he was about to say something (judging by his expression, probably trying to get a moment alone with you to talk about Cara), but Rafe suddenly appeared at his side, grabbing his shoulder with a crooked grin.

"Aight, enough whining about Hall," he said, nodding toward the entrance. "Cheer the fuck up and go find another chick inside. Or go annoy Kelce and Molly, I don't give a shit, but stop dragging us into it."

Such tact. Truly award-worthy. Though, to be fair, that actually sounded like Rafe’s version of wanting his friend to feel better.

Topper pressed his lips together, clearly debating whether to argue, but in the end, he just sighed and nodded. "I'll go join the others."

With that, he walked off.

As much as you felt sorry for him, it wasn’t your place to speak for Cara’s feelings, so you were actually kinda thankful for Rafe’s little lifeline.

SPEAKING OF RAFE.

Dude was eyeing you with the smuggest grin ever, blue eyes locked on yours before letting his gaze drop down your outfit (and soul, the way his stares always felt so intense) for a second.

And the way he just nodded, his eyes landing back on yours, DUDE WHAT.

"What?" Heat rose to your cheeks and you smiled sheepishly.

Rafe shook his head, lips tugging into a downward smile. "Nothing. Just curious who you dressed up for."

HUH. NOT HIM CALLING YOU OUT LIKE THIS. THIS WAS SO FUCKING EMBARRASSING BYE.

You let out a nervous chuckle and shook your head too. "Myself?"

Somehow, you both seemed to know that was bullshit, and now you just kinda wanted to curl up into fetal position and stay there for the next one billion years.

"Bold choice for a self-date," Rafe said with a shit-eating grin.

You couldn’t tell if that was a compliment or a smooth way of saying, “Next time, pick something else.”

Hey, I kinda wanna die right now.

"Shit, don’t look at me like that." Rafe chuckled boyishly. "You look good, alright? That dress suits you."

...

EDNCSKJDXCHNFEWJSKLFCHNVDLAKGSNJVSÖKLFDHXUVWDIUEOPSAXM;POSWLSCKUCJGFKD

Cheeks hotter than the sun, but you didn’t care because OH MY GOD. You couldn’t even hide your smile, and you also didn’t care that you probably looked like some stupid fucking idiot while doing it, but WHO CARED.

"Thank you," you said, gripping the strap of your bag.

AND THEN you mustered up the courage to look him over as well. Not as obviously as he had, because that guy just seemed to have zero shame, but well, you did appreciate the view.

Even if he was wearing one of his probably thousand polo shirt variations again, it suited him just as well as the other 999. Paired with some more or less basic white shorts that really showed off the tan on his legs and some matching white Dior B57 sneakers.

Kinda low effort but that guy pulled it off like crazy. And him deciding to wear his hair as curtain bangs again BECAUSE OF YOU (yes, you'd never forget how he’d admitted that yesterday) kinda made your heart rate shoot up even higher.

Rafe raised his brows when you met his eyes again, and you felt caught and awkward, but still, you managed to say, "Looking fresh yourself."

That made the cutest laugh escape his lips, and you could literally feel the butterflies in your stomach dancing to that soft sound.

"I'm just gonna assume that’s a weirdly executed compliment and you're not just making fun of me," Rafe said with a lopsided smile.

You shrugged. "Maybe it’s both."

"Aight." Rafe then eyed your jacket. "Might wanna take that off though. They’ve got blankets and stuff in there, you know."

You let out a soft laugh, raising your brows. "And I’m just gonna assume this is your weird way of caring about me being comfortable and not just a way to get me undressed."

DID YOU ACTUALLY JUST SAY THAT OMMGMFMMF.

Rafe himself was the biggest confidence boost you could get, and his boldness kinda rubbed off on you.

He chuckled. "It’s both."

ALRIGHT, DUDE.

Okay, honestly, you were kinda starting to sweat under the jacket. First, it was still super warm despite the time, and second, Rafe’s flirty comments (yes, let’s just call them that) were turning your entire body into a heatwave.

With flushed cheeks, you let out a soft giggle and awkwardly tried to take off your jacket while still holding onto your purse without dropping both.

"Jesus, give that shit to me," Rafe said, grabbing your purse with one hand while helping you out of your jacket with the other.

"Ayo, you lovebirds coming?" Kelce’s voice boomed from a few steps ahead. "Seats are filling up, you’ll have to share one soon!"

UGHHH PLEASEEEE DON'T MAKE THIS EVEN MORE AWKWARD.

"Gonna kill that fucker someday," Rafe muttered as he handed you your purse back, eyeing the bracelet on your wrist with a silent smile.

You chuckled sheepishly and slung your bag back over your shoulder, blinking in confusion when he kept holding onto your jacket.

Rafe's gaze drifted over your now-exposed upper half for a second before he looked back at you with a smug grin, tilting his head toward the others. "Come on, before I lose interest in the movie altogether."

DUDE. You REALLY had to get used to this kind of apparently harmless flirting without immediately spiraling into that one very specific overthinking rabbit hole. Like—he couldn’t just make comments like that and then--

The sudden touch of his hand on your back yanked you out of your thoughts, a buzzing warmth settling over your whole body. He gave you a gentle nudge forward and you fell into step beside him, already missing the heat of his hand the second he let it fall away.

As soon as you reached the ticket booth, it found its place again as Rafe softly guided you past the grumpy-looking line toward Kelce, Topper, and Molly.

"Finally," Kelce said with a wide grin as he took two tickets. "Thought you—"

"Shut your ass and keep moving," Rafe cut in, softer than usual.

Topper was up next and followed the other two through the archway. Muffled voices and soft music already drifted from inside.

You reached for your wallet automatically, but Rafe had already stepped in front of you, placing your jacket on the counter. "Two tickets, and this to coat check."

You blinked. "You don't have to—"

"Yeah, yeah," Rafe said, eyes focused on his wallet as he handed the cashier forty dollars. "Keep the change."

No way. He was paying for you again AND tipping the kid behind the counter twenty-five dollars?? First the McDonald’s food and now this? What, why, how.

Plus, um ... you kinda needed that jacket later…

Rafe took two pink tickets and a tag with the number 69, grinning like a five-year-old (grow up please), and handed you one. "Just shut up and take it."

And you did (with a "Thank you" nonetheless) while your heart practically exploded in all directions. Then you followed him through the archway onto the event space.

Dozens of people were already scattered across the area—locals and even some tourons—chit-chatting, laughing, lounging in groups or pairs. Some had already claimed a spot in front of the massive screen on floor cushions or deck chairs. A few had even brought their own blankets and pillows.

To the side were the restrooms and food stalls selling popcorn, nachos, and other snacks, plus all kinds of drinks from water to vodka-energy, and a variety of rental blankets and pillows.

And strung up between trees and posts were dozens of fairy lights and pink paper lanterns (clearly Barbie was the more anticipated movie tonight). It looked gorgeous, and cozy, especially now with the sun halfway down the horizon.

Which, as a matter of fact, made the whole setting feel... a little too intimate.

The others were nowhere to be seen, and it was just you and Rafe now, standing near the entrance. And the fact that he'd been all gentlemanly earlier didn’t help—THIS ALMOST FELT LIKE A FUCKING DATE, JESUS CHRIST.

OKOKOKOKOKOKOKOKOKOKOK CALM DOWN. JUST LOOK AROUND, MAYBE I CAN SPOT--

"I guess you'll want some snacks and shit like that."

Your head snapped back to him, suddenly very aware of how exposed you felt without your jacket, without Topper, Kelce, or Molly AROUND AND AHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAH.

The only thing grounding you was the bag on your shoulder, which you were now holding onto like your life depended on it.

"Um, yeah, sure," you said, internally begging your brain to chill the fuck out.

WHY DIDN’T HE CARE WHERE THE OTHERS WERE THOUGH??? HELLOOO YOUR FRIENDS ARE GONE, PLEASE LOOK FOR THEM.

With a simple "Aight, come on" from Rafe, you followed him toward one of the snack stands, trying to maintain a respectful distance.

This time, there was no one for Rafe to cut in front of, so the two of you just stood there AND YOUR BRAIN COMPLETELY BLANKED ON EVERY TOPIC KNOWN TO MAN.

How was he so chill while you almost debated asking him what brand of microwave he’d recommend because you LITERALLY had nothing else to think of HELP.

Nervously, you hugged yourself, trying to ground yourself by gently pinching the skin on your upper arm.

"You cold?"

You met his raised eyebrows and instinctively dropped your hands, giving him a small, smiley shake of your head. "Wh—no. No."

Rafe eyed you for a long second before saying, "You're being weird."

NOT HIM CALLING YOU OUT OH MY GOD.

"You're always weird, but this is weird-weird," he added, dry amusement in his tone.

You let out a strained chuckle. "Okay, maybe I am kind of cold."

ughhhhhhhhhhhh. Please believe me, please believe me, please—

"Well, then we’ll buy a fucking blanket. Jesus Christ, you gotta chill."

oKAY.

WAIT—WE?!?!?!?!?!

You had zero time to spiral over that because suddenly, you two were up. WAIT—YOU TWO??? NO. RAFE. RAFE WAS NEXT. HELP. WHAT’S GOING ON.

He ordered some nachos with salsa dip and a large diet coke and then turned to you with an expectant expression.

WHAT. NO FUCKING WAY.

No no no no no no. Him paying AGAIN felt so insanely weird for no reason. You stepped forward and grabbed your wallet, and he looked at you like you just insulted his entire bloodline.

"That's some disrespect," he said, raising an eyebrow, though the amusement in his tone was undeniable.

You couldn’t help but chuckle. "I just... you really don’t have to—"

"Shit, only thing I wanna hear right now is your order," he cut you off, and the cashier's barely hidden smile just made the whole thing ten times more awkward.

And because you really didn’t want to drag this painfully awkward situation out any longer, you just told her your snack and drink choice.

Rafe placed two twenty-dollar bills on the counter and added, "And a blanket. Large."

The pretty cashier girl glanced between the two of you, lifting a brow with clear amusement. "We only have small ones left."

YOU’VE GOT TO BE FUCKING KIDDING ME.

PLEASE ASK FOR TWO. PLEASE FUCKING ASK FOR TWO.

"Yeah, well, one of those then."

[Insert brain explosion sound here.]

You could literally feel the adrenaline flooding your body, nerves tingling and buzzing, butterflies flying around all confused and bumping into each other like WHAT DO YOU MEAN ONE.

You kinda felt like hyperventilating but all you did was smile with the most strained expression because what :) else :) were :) you :) supposed :) to :) do :)?????!?!??!!

Rafe took the change and shouldered the blanket bag over one strap, then reached for his snack order.

You grabbed yours too and followed him, your nerves shot to hell. You honestly felt like some helpless prey knowing it was about to get devoured but having no idea when.

Your cheeks burned hot and you were pretty sure your blood pressure was sky-high, except you had no idea why you were freaking out so much. All you could hear was your own heart pounding in your chest and ears.

You almost didn’t even notice that Rafe had stopped, or rather, that he’d been stopped.

Wait, no. Rafe had stopped because you’d been stopped.

Cara had grabbed your arm, halting you in your tracks, a huge grin on her face as she greeted you both.

Shit. And JJ was next to her, waving with a smile.

Your half-panic attack vanished instantly, now replaced with a new, different anxiety: Rafe freaking out, saying some dumb shit, or worse, starting actual shit with JJ. Or JJ not keeping his mouth shut. Or even worse, the other Pogues showing up.

But they didn’t. And all Rafe did was...stay quiet, other than giving Cara a casual "'Sup."

WHICH MADE YOU ALL THE MORE CONFUSED BECAUSE WHAT THE FUCK WAS UP WITH HIM TODAY.

"Already said hi to Kelce and Molly," Cara said, eyeing you with a grin that basically screamed I-see-one-blanket-and-your-jacket’s-missing-soooo-wink-wink. "Also spotted Topper, but didn’t wanna interrupt his chit-chat with Ruthie."

RUTHIE’S HERE? OF COURSE SHE’S HERE.

Rafe scoffed. "He’s salty 'cause you turned him down."

Cara blinked, genuinely looking a little guilty. "I didn’t turn him down. I just already promised someone else I’d join their group. And last I checked, his car only has five seats anyway."

"Could’ve thrown Kelce in the trunk," Rafe shrugged.

Dude.

"Or someone could’ve gotten cozy on a lap," JJ added with a smirk. Directed at you.

DUDE.

Rafe finally tensed and you found yourself relaxing (girl, are you okay???) because that was a sign he wasn’t some polite and gentleman-programmed clone of himself.

But before he could snap at JJ, Cara stepped in. "Or Topper could stop acting like a drama queen just because I turned down his invite," she said with a frown, though you knew better. She felt bad.

Rafe tilted his head, and the air shifted in a way you did not like. Great. Now you had to de-escalate this?

"I’m sure he’d still appreciate it if you say hi later," you said with a smile that was clearly meant to signal pls-this-is-getting-weird-fast.

Cara, thank god, got the message and sighed dramatically. "Guess you’re right." Then she looked at her wrist like there was a watch. "Oh no, movie’s starting soon. Gotta grab our snacks before we miss out."

Oscar goes to her for sure.

You just nodded, smile still strained. "Right."

"Okay, see you two later!" she grinned at both of you, then grabbed JJ by the arm and dragged him off toward the food stalls.

Bomb successfully defused.

You turned back to Rafe and he looked at you with a boyish grin. "Didn’t know she had piercings."

Wh—OH. WHAT.

You stared at him blankly.

Had he seriously checked out her tits? Okay, no judgment, like Cara had gone braless today and her boobs looked legitimately perfect—like GODDESS-LEVEL—in that pink dress of hers, and even you couldn’t help but notice the second she'd walked up but...

You didn’t like that Rafe had.

Of course, of course he could look. He was a guy after all, and what else did they ever see beyond tits and ass, and yeah, Cara was an absolute bombshell, but…

Hm.

HM.

A weird feeling spread through your stomach and the butterflies just kinda sat there now, not sure what to do or how to feel.

"Well, yeah, I guess," you said, and it was so painfully obvious how the slight bitterness in your voice still came through. So you tried to compensate with a smile, but you probably looked like someone being held at gunpoint. "She got them a few weeks ago."

Rafe seemed way too entertained by that and just nodded with a wide grin. "Bet that hurt."

"It’s a sensitive area, so... yeah," you replied, trying to sound casual and failing miserably.

An awkward silence started creeping in, adding to the sudden clenching in your chest, and you felt huge secondhand embarrassment for yourself. For being JEALOUS of your own best friend, especially when you and Rafe weren’t even a couple in ANY WAY and just UGHHHH.

Can I be normal for ONE FUCKING SECOND, please.

"Ayo, Rafe!" Kelce’s voice suddenly echoed from somewhere deeper inside the event space.

You and Rafe both looked up and spotted him somewhere between the seating area in front of the screen, waving with both arms.

Relief washed over you, and without waiting for any comment from Rafe, you started walking toward Kelce through the rows of bean bags, lounge chairs, and picnic blankets.

You found Kelce sitting on one of the lounge beds in the back rows… and Molly on a different one (?). A second later, you felt Rafe’s presence beside you.

Kelce patted the spot next to him, a huge grin on his face. "We saved you one of the best spots. Didn't want you sitting on some uncomfortable floor pillows. Bad for the spine, you know."

...no. Just. NO.

NONONONONONONONO.

There was no way you were gonna lie down on a damn shared lounge bed with RAFE, barely wide enough for two people. NOPE. NO. NO THANK YOU.

OKAY YES HOLY SHIT YES, BUT ALSO NO NO NO.

And Rafe—this NONCHALANT FUCKING GUY—didn’t give a single fuck. After Kelce had gotten up and moved over to sit with Molly, Rafe just dropped the blanket bag onto the bed and placed his nachos and Coke on the holder on the left side like this was the most normal thing ever.

You just stood there frozen, your heart SCREAMING AT YOU TO JUST SIT DOWN while your brain was spiraling, throwing thoughts and questions around, with the two big monsters called fear and anxiety looming over everything like a cold storm—

“Come on, Y/n.”

Molly. Her voice was soft and quiet next to you. “Enjoy yourself a little.”

She looked up at you with her sweet smile and kind eyes. There was a gentle understanding in her expression, and beneath it, this warm encouragement—like she got it. Like she really understood what was happening inside your head. The panic, the confusion, and mostly the sheer anxiety about this whole... situation.

And somehow, just that little sentence and her sweet smile were enough to bring a tiny bit of quiet to your brain.

YOU COMPLETELY UNDERSTOOD WHY KELCE HAD IMMEDIATELY FALLEN FOR HER BECAUSE DUDE.

“You waiting for an invitation or what?” And then there was Rafe with his passive-aggressive bullshit, already lying back with his legs up, shoes off, sipping his stupid Coke Zero.

Remember: he’s just a dumbass. Sure, he might be the biggest crush you've ever had, but deep down he's just a dumb little stupid boy. You had absolutely no reason to feel intimidated or nervous around him.

WELL YOU HADN’T—UNTIL HE'D DECIDED TO BE A GODDAMN GENTLEMAN TODAY WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK.

Okokokok whatever, I’m gonna move now and just sit down. Yeah, yeah, a little smile, mm-hmm, that’s it. And now I’ll set my stuff down on my side. Okay, done. Oh shit, my drink nearly slipped hahah. Whatever, it’s fine. Now I’ll hang my bag on the hook at the side and then I'MGONNATAKEAPLACEJUSTINCHESAWAYFROMRAFEOKOKOKOKOKOKOKOKOKOKOK.

DONE.

KJDEWFBGVJKWRBGFVWSJKBHFCSKWHBFESQHRL.

You smoothed out the fabric of your dress, let your hands fall into your lap, and leaned not at all tensely against the pillow backrest, staring straight ahead like a normal person because everything about this was completely normal.

:) yes, normal :)

Oh, wait. Your shoes.

You kicked them off and tossed them into the grass, and because you could feel Rafe’s burning gaze on you the whole time, you finally met his eyes—and he looked so fucking done with you it was almost hilarious.

He didn’t even look pissed. Just straight-up The-Office-style deadpan, like he was staring directly into some invisible camera, and that camera was your eyes.

"You know, at this point, you might as well just sit in the grass," he said, walking that fine line between annoyance and amusement.

And okay, he kind of had a point. You were sitting so far to the right your right leg was basically hanging off the edge of the bed.

I’m so fucking embarrassing holy shit.

You gave him a sheepish smile, and your heart sank when his brows furrowed.

"Are you seriously scared I might try some shit?" He actually sounded hurt beneath all that faux offense, and now you felt like the biggest idiot alive.

You shook your head instantly, heart racing. "No, no, of course not." An embarrassed smile crept onto your face. "I just—"

"Some minion fucker said shit to you," he stated, voice and expression softening just a little now.

Nodding at that painfully accurate guess felt humiliating. Sure, by now he knew your brain was a little fucked up, but not being able to just sit next to him? So fucking ridiculous.

You forced yourself to scoot a little closer, away from the edge, feeling like the most embarrassing human being on earth.

“Okay, stop,” he said, clearly trying to keep his frustration in check. He motioned to his chest. “I’m not gonna sit here with you acting like I’m holding you at gunpoint, alright? So if you’d rather go join Hall and her lapdog,” he made a shooing motion with his hand, “go for it.”

Your heart clenched at how disappointed and lowkey sad he sounded rather than mad or annoyed. And he’d been so nice today anyway, all smiley and chill, and now he looked like someone had popped his favorite balloon. Or, more accurately: like you had.

Of course you WEREN’T scared he’d try anything. Not in the slightest, oh my god, no, it was just…

NOTHING. There wasn’t a single damn problem except you and your own damn head.

Fuck that. Seriously, fuck your brain and every thought it ever created. Just—fuck it.

Shaking your head, you said, “What? No. No! I’m fine here. It’s… I’m just being stupid, okay?”

Rafe gave you a look like he was considering getting up and sitting somewhere else, but his gaze softened into a smile. He tapped his head. “Nah, it’s your fucking asshole brain feeding you stupid shit.” He sighed, then shook his head again. “Can’t believe I even have to say this shit, but if it helps you chill the fuck out: I’m gonna keep my hands to myself, alright?” He picked up the blanket bag and moved it toward you. “And this was meant for you anyway. I don’t need it.”

Okay no.

You did NOT want him feeling like he needed to explain himself just to not be seen as a creep because YOU KNEW DAMN WELL HE WASN’T.

JESUS CHRIST. You were the one putting people into shitty situations like this. And Rafe, of all people—this guy probably had to put up with your bullshit more than anyone else these past few days.

Furrowing your brows, you scooted closer and grabbed the blanket bag, opening it up and tossing that stupid thing to the side. You tried spreading the fluffy pink blanket across both your legs, but it was so awkwardly rolled together you kinda failed and a giant ball of fluff just landed squarely on both your laps.

“The fuck are you trying to achieve here?” Rafe said, half annoyed, half amused, watching you struggle with the small-ass blanket.

You leaned forward, trying to figure out which side was up. “Proving to you that I’m not uncomfortable around you.”

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, letting out a strained breath as he gently slapped your hand away from awkwardly fumbling with the blanket. In one smooth motion, he spread it lengthwise across both your laps.

Then you realized—it was still too warm for a blanket, especially a fluffy one like this, and you could already feel sweat creeping onto your skin. Thank god, Rafe felt it too.

“Okay, point proven,” he said with a soft scoff. “Now can we ditch this thing before I get a fucking heatstroke?”

You let out a chuckle and nodded, pulling the blanket off and tossing it to the foot of your seat.

As you shifted positions, the background music faded and the sound of the movie started. Wait, no, just some commercials. The voices around you gradually died down anyway, and the last people were finding their seats.

The air between you and Rafe finally settled. Back to as normal as it could get. And so fast too, like, you never really had to be afraid of anything with him, because even if you got into a dumb little argument, you two always somehow figured it out right away.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him tilt his head toward you, hands resting on his stomach. “Have you seen the movie before?”

You tilted your head toward him too, adrenaline spiking the second you realized how close you were. Elbows just a few inches apart, his face still at a respectful formal distance but close enough for you to see the blue pattern in his stupidly pretty eyes.

And god, his cologne in the air between you.

You smiled and shook your head softly. “You?”

“Nah,” he said, and Jesus, his gaze was always so intense. “Didn’t even wanna see this crap, but Wheezie insisted I come.”

A soft chuckle escaped your lips. “She seems more and more likeable every time you talk about her.”

The corner of his mouth twitched, and he scratched his jaw. “She says the same about you.”

OH MY HOLY FUCKING GOD. HE TALKED TO HIS LITTLE SISTER ABOUT YOU???? AHUJCHDNSKCHNKEHVBSFD WHAT.

His gaze drifted back to the screen as the actual intro to the movie started playing. A woman’s voice narrated something over the scene of girls playing with dolls, but you weren’t really listening.

You were too aware of Rafe sitting right there, the scent of his cologne, how relaxed he seemed—and still thinking about that almost hurt expression he had earlier.

You stared blankly at the screen, biting the inside of your cheek. He’s actually trying to make me feel comfortable, and I made him feel like I was grossed out or scared of him.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you tilted your head toward him, eyeing his calm profile for a second. The softness of his skin, his cute little lashes, the focused look in his eyes—and the violet-tinted bruise on his cheek that almost looked like a blossom.

“Rafe,” you said quietly.

You almost melted at how soft he looked when he turned his head toward you. Big blue eyes staring at you, almost scared of what you were about to say.

"I’m sorry about earlier," you said with a soft look. "I acted like an idiot. Probably made you feel like one, too."

Rafe shook his head and waved it off. “Nah, it’s alright. I’m used to your shit by now.”

Nope. That didn’t sit right with you.

You pressed your lips together, turning your body to face him in a sideways position, legs pulled up toward you. His eyes flicked briefly to the curve of your hip before meeting your gaze again, clearly trying not to smile.

A rush of adrenaline surged through you, but you kept your gaze steady, your expression serious. “Still. I didn’t want to make you feel like you had to explain yourself.”

Rafe let out an amused breath. "Chill, okay? Seriously, I didn’t mind."

How was he sometimes so chill, and other times made a whole issue out of something that wasn’t even one?

"Or do you need me to shut up the asshole minion in your head?" he said, lips tugging into a downward smile.

You let out a quiet chuckle and fidgeted with the bracelet on your wrist. "I think I managed that myself, but thanks."

He pulled a mock-pained face. "Sucks. Would’ve loved to smash that guy’s face in."

Another soft giggle slipped from your lips, and with that conversation wrapped up, you turned back to your original position. The fabric of your dress had ridden up slightly, giving a peak at your thighs and you quickly tugged it back down with an awkward motion.

Barbieland was now being introduced on the screen, showcasing all the different Barbie variants.

And then it was Rafe who shifted, leaning forward to grab the blanket.

You eyed him with a confused smile as he pulled it back over both your legs. “So you are in fact cold” you said, amused, heart racing at the sweet gesture.

Rafe looked up, almost startled, as he pulled the blanket over his lap as well. “What? Yeah, no, just... feels more comfy.”

…

Oh.

You just stared at him in slight disbelief, then amusement, then full-on embarrassment, knowing exactly what the two of you were now sharing under that blanket.

"What," he said quietly, brows furrowed with an almost accusatory tone. “It’s not like I control that shit.”

You should probably be weirded out. No, actually—FREAK OUT, PANIC, stand up and leave. But instead, you just pressed your lips together, trying not to chuckle at how genuinely awkward he looked. And probably felt.

Shit, you actually felt sorry for him.

So, in a weak attempt to make him feel better, you mirrored his movement, pulling your side of the blanket over your lap too and quietly shifting your gaze back to the screen, where the stereotypical Barbie was just being introduced.

Your heart was racing nonetheless, because like... not Rafe getting hard at the most random-ass moment during a Barbie movie. And not you lying just a few inches away from him and OKAY MAYBE KINDA PANICKING A LITTLE.

nONONONONO. Stuff like that happens all the time. He probably felt just as embarrassed as you did. Honestly, maybe even more.

Okay. Just ignore it. It'll probably go away soon, right?

Keeping your focus on the movie was kinda hard though, with how uncomfortable you felt in your current position, neck all tense because you were lying too low, and being on your back felt awkward in general.

So now you had two options: either turn on your side, facing Rafe, or turn your back to him. And given his current…situation, you weren’t really sure which one was worse.

Shit, but you really couldn’t lie like that anymore, and you didn’t wanna risk a cramp or something just because you were too scared to move. So you decided to turn onto your side—facing him—because, well… you didn’t wanna make him feel bad by turning away.

Grabbing the pillow behind you, you slid one hand underneath it and rested the other next to your face. There. Much better.

"You doing that shit on purpose now?" Rafe asked, and your head snapped toward him, catching him glancing at the curve of your hip again, now hidden under the blanket.

You let out a baffled little laugh, shaking your head. "What? No. This is just more comfortable."

“Yeah, shit. Not for me,” he muttered, and poor boy actually looked like he was suffering.

Nerves buzzing, you just stared at him cluelessly, your heart racing at the possibility that you were the reason for his current situation. "I... what do you want me to do?"

"I don’t know, stop moving." He looked so genuinely embarrassed, wearing that little scowl, that somehow it didn’t feel that weird. Okay, it did, but not as much as you'd expected. And honestly, right now, you just wanted to make him feel a little less awkward.

"Well... maybe turning on your side might help," you said quietly, with a barely hidden smile. "Might ease the pressure, considering—"

"Please just shut the fuck up," Rafe muttered, his face contorted in the most dramatic frown possible. On screen, stereotypical Barbie was now getting ready for her day. Then, after a beat, he did in fact shift downward a bit and turned to face you, mirroring your position.

For a moment, you just stared at each other. A respectful distance between you, but still close enough to feel his breath on your hand. He looked at you like he might actually murder you if you dared open your mouth, and you tried your absolute best not to laugh.

“Did you know,” you whispered, trying to keep a straight face, “Mr. Martin’s buttcrack always peeks out when he tries to write on the upper half of the board.”

Rafe stared at you, deadpan, very obviously trying to suppress a smile. You decided to go one further: “Looks like a dark hairy caterpillar from afar.”

His features softened almost immediately as a baffled chuckle escaped him, the blanket on your side lifting a little as his body shifted onto his back. He dragged a hand over his face in annoyed amusement, letting out a quiet, "What the fuck."

You held back a smile, glancing up at him with raised brows, feeling a little proud for getting those soft chuckles out of him from time to time. “Did that help?”

Rafe looked at you with a crooked smile, amusement glimmering in his eyes. "Shit, yeah, it did. I’ll probably never get hard again with that cursed image now burned into my brain."

“Imagine him in a tankini, that should do the trick,” you offered, and Rafe’s face twisted in disgust.

He tapped a finger against his temple. “That weird-ass minion in your head is worse than the shit-talking one.”

You let out a soft giggle, and your heart did a little jump when you saw him smiling along too.

Rafe then fully shifted onto his back again and tried adjusting the blanket higher up, but since it was stretched lengthwise over both of you, your feet ended up exposed. A soft breeze hit them, now that the sun had finally dipped below the horizon.

"Okay, you gotta scoot closer if we both wanna fit under here," he said, scoffing at your expression. "Shit, relax. Thanks to your overly detailed description of Martin’s wrinkly, hairy caterpillar buttcrack, I'm probably gonna be impotent for the next few weeks."

NOT RELAXING IN THE SLIGHTEST RIGHT NOW.

“But I can get up and grab my own blanket if you want,” he added more seriously, catching your baffled look.

WHY WAS HE SO SWEET TONIGHT OH MY GOD.

Okay. This is your chance for SOME CLOSENESS WITH HIM. He might’ve had a boner just now HAHAHAHAHA and you were still kind of shocked at yourself for how weirdly chill you'd reacted, BUT LET’S JUST IGNORE THAT AND USE THIS FUCKING CHANCE GIRLLLLL LET’S GOOOO.

Quietly, you shook your head with a nervous smile, grabbed your pillow, and scooted closer to him. While you kind of struggled to figure out how exactly you were supposed to lie next to him that close, Rafe grabbed the blanket and turned it so that the long side actually covered the length of your bodies.

Okay, lying on your side wasn’t really possible here, so you turned onto your back. But now your upper arms were awkwardly pressed together, both of you with your hands resting on your stomach, and your hips were touching, too, AND JESUS CHRIST HIS BODY FELT SO WARM.

But hey, at least you were both covered now, even if you were pretty sure he could hear your heartbeat, with how loud it was pounding in your chest.

Barbie was now at the beach with her friends, the Kens were doing some beach stuff or whatever BUT YOU COULDN’T REALLY FOCUS.

Also, his elbow was digging uncomfortably into yours, so you tried adjusting yours, which made him move again AND JESUS CHRIST THIS WAS AWKWARD.

“Shit, wait,” Rafe said with a quiet scoff and leaned forward. “This isn’t working.”

You just blinked at him, afraid he’d actually get up now to grab his own blanket.

Instead, he gently grabbed your shoulder, signaling you to lean forward for a second. Which you did—letting him take the lead because your brain had gone completely blank at THIS ABSURDLY CLOSE PROXIMITY.

Rafe grabbed your pillow, scooted into a more upright position, then leaned back again, his right arm now resting on the low backrest, his head supported by his hand. With the other, he placed the pillow in the now empty space, half on his shoulder and under his armpit, and gestured to it.

GUYS.

“There,” he said. “You okay with that?”

JUST SAY YES AND LIE DOWN, NO SECOND GUESSING.

So you did. Heart hammering so loud you didn’t even hear yourself speak. You smiled—half anxious, half excited—and leaned back again.

Since he was lying slightly elevated on his back, you had to scoot down a little, your head pressing against the pillow, your left shoulder half resting on his chest, and you folded your hands comfortably on your stomach. Your elbow ended up resting against the side of his hip because of that, and you expected him to shift away...but he didn’t. And NEITHER DID YOU because acknowledging it would just make it worse and—

GIRL. RELAX.

Your body was relaxed. Rafe’s warmth helped you ease into it, and the fact that he was so chill made it even easier. BUT YOUR MIND? YOUR MIND WAS SCREAMING, RUNNING IN CIRCLES, SETTING EVERYTHING ON FIRE BECAUSE YOU WERE BASICALLY HALF-CUDDLING WITH RAFE RIGHT NOW.

It’s fine. It’s cool.

Everything’s completely chill.

Actually, yeah, literally chill. Your skin had goosebumps, both from the situation and the drop in temperature over the past half hour.

And then a whole firework erupted on your upper right arm as you felt Rafe’s arm behind you shift, to pull up the blanket on your side and cover the rest of your upper body, AND HIS FINGERS BRUSHED YOUR SKIN AS HE DID SO AND—

You held your breath.

Because.

THIS FUCKER just left his arm there. Not back on the armrest, not casually elsewhere—no, right there, lightly resting on your right shoulder, his fingers playing with the sleeve of your dress.

OKOKOKOKOKOKOKOKOKOKOK.

You bit the inside of your cheek so hard you tasted blood because WAS THIS EVEN REAL?! WAS THIS ON PURPOSE OR WAS HE JUST SO FOCUSED ON THE MOVIE HE DIDN’T NOTICE? AHHHHHHHHH

But you let him.

You let him because you wanted this. Being close to him, feeling the warmth of his body, all cozied up. Your heart was racing, fluttering like it didn’t know whether to panic or melt. Every brush of his arm sent little sparks down your spine, too much and not enough all at once.

Because, as a matter of fact, it wasn't enough. Now that you’d had a taste of this feeling—of how it felt being so close to him—it was like something inside you had been lit up. There was this deep urge and longing to completely turn toward him, fully cuddle up, put your hand on his chest, drape a leg over his, bury your head in his chest and just inhale his scent and UGHHHH.

But you were a coward. A scaredy cat, too afraid he’d push you away. Especially because this right here? It was toeing a fine line between “we’re just cold and sharing a blanket so obviously we scoot closer” and “considering we’re just project partners who happened to agree on being friends, this was way more intimate than necessary.”

Hey, funny thought here: what if you just did it? :)

Because HE clearly never gave much thought to how his little flirtations affected you. He made it damn clear it was all just for fun. So maybe you could just… cuddle with him. For fun.

Worst case? He’d say something like “You wanna get into it now or what?” and then you’d just awkwardly laugh and go “Sorry, just felt more comfy like this” and scoot back into your old position.

Remember? With Rafe, you never had to be afraid of doing some dumb shit or embarrassing yourself.

FUCK IT.

You pressed your lips together and pushed yourself up on your elbow, ignoring the pang of disappointment as his arm slipped back onto the backrest, his expression confused. DOESN’T MATTER, PUSH THROUGH GIRL. Adrenaline shot up as you grabbed the pillow that had been under his arm and silently placed it across his ribs, READY TO LAY DOWN—

—only for him to stop you with a crooked smile, your heart dropping straight through the floor.

You froze. Completely. Like your body had hit an invisible wall. Eyes wide, breath hitched, you just… stared at him. You didn’t dare speak, didn’t dare move, afraid that even the smallest word might expose you in the worst way possible.

“Shit, you're gonna suffocate me with that thing,” Rafe said with amusement and moved the pillow to the side. Then he gestured toward the now free space on the side of his chest. “There.”

Your whole body buzzed as his right arm returned to your upper arm, now gently nudging you toward him.

Ignoring every voice of reason and panic in your head, letting yourself be guided into him, turning your body toward his, resting your head against the side of his chest, your shoulder naturally tilting in, your arm daring to settle on his upper stomach.

Every nerve lit up, hyperaware of the rise and fall of his breathing beneath your cheek, the heat of his skin seeping into yours through his shirt. It was terrifying and euphoric, like stepping off a ledge and realizing, just for a second, that maybe you liked the adrenaline you felt while looking downward.

And then you almost exploded, because this guy took it a step further. His left hand remained casually on his thigh, but his other arm wrapped around your back, HIS HAND NOW RESTING ON YOUR BLANKET-COVERED WAIST.

Okay. You were officially done for :)))))))

Your heart was racing, pounding so loud it felt like drums in your ears, pulse probably skyrocketing, and let’s not even talk about the adrenaline—you’d probably need the ER in the next few seconds.

And the craziest thing was how he'd just accepted it. He'd let you do this. Hadn’t said anything dumb, hadn’t made a joke. Instead, he just laid there, snacking on his nachos and sipping his Coke Zero occasionally, the only things he said being how stupid Ken looked and acted and how weird his rivalry with the other Ken was.

But you didn’t have the heart to tell him that, actually, that was exactly how you saw him and Kelce. So you just stayed quiet, chuckled softly whenever he made another snarky remark, and soaked in this surreal moment that would be over again in about 60 minutes.

And when his left hand absentmindedly started playing with the bracelet dangling from your wrist, you didn’t say anything either—too afraid to ruin whatever this was.

Because somehow, it felt like the little agreement of friendship you made just yesterday was already, very slowly, starting to slip away into something you were too afraid to name.

Or maybe. Maybe, this was just what it looked like when two people, thrown together by coincidence, trusted each other enough to get this comfortable without needing to put it into words.

Little did you two know—it was both.

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

✿ A / N ✿ imma be real, i feel like i fucked up their whole dynamic with the last scene aka them lying on the bed and cuddling and ughhh, and i also feel like you can feel through the writing how impatient i grew with the ending of this ch. idk maybe i should've postponed this and actually think it through but i kinda lost my mind with this one and now it seems like i skipped over some steps. idk maybe i'm just tired or biased bc of how long this chapter is so what do you guys think? bc i'm srsly considering reworking the last part HAHAHAHAH #heart'sactuallyracingrn

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

K M S M A S T E R L I S T | <- P R E V I O U S | N E X T ->

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

T A G L I S T F O R M (taglist for this series is CLOSED but you can sign up for my other stuff through this link)

@ursogorgeous13 @my-name-is-baby @moneybaby07 @jjasmiineee @sttaejoon-blog @vogueprincess @princesspeaxhh @wtfisastiles @wefelldowntherabbithole13 @rafes4 @kathryn-maraudersversion @wuluhwuhmaster @torturedtypewritersdept @sfotiegiuls @ltristessedureratoujours @stoned-writer @lunaleah @akobx @cokewithcameron @b00klvrs @rafesdrew @mattyskies @yktayy9669 @beabafreakbee @c1gsafterwhat @drewstarkeyswife-7 @wtfdudesblog @akobx @wintercrows @miaaaoa @setmefreemyg @pogueprincesa @chimchimjiminie16 @drewstarkeysrightarm @wtfdudesblog @wolfstarsimpxx @emmiesummers @brycesfav @ayy1234567 @rgeraldg @stanseventeen @louvrgirl @chaoticromantic @drewstarkeysrealwife @drewstarkeyswifehoe @psychicnatural @mysticbby2009 @oreocheescake-12 @miniiminie @drunkinthemiddleoftheday @drewstarkeyywife @persiar9

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pupkashi · 6 months ago

Text

a/n: gojo comfort drabble bc i need it :P

masterlist

gojo satoru has always been privy to your emotions. maybe it’s because you have a terrible poker face and you just can’t seem to lie to him, or maybe he just pays close attention to you.

regardless of the reason, it seems too obvious to satoru when you start to become more distant. he takes it personal at first, a pout on his face when you hit him with single word texts, heartstrings tugged and stepped on when he’s left on read. it seems all too sudden, you were just fine two days ago, what could’ve happened?

satoru thinks back to every word and action between the two of you, finding nothing that could’ve caused your mood to sour so quickly. he’s frowning at his phone, scrolling up and down your conversation to try and find the root of the problem, then it hits him.

I’m starting to get overwhelmed with everything idk T^T

there it is, he thinks, the frown on his face growing as he already knows you’ve slipped into your old ways. distancing yourself, shutting yourself off and more than likely spiraling. he sighs, grabbing an extra crewneck, spraying his cologne on it and grabbing his car keys.

the sharp knocks on your front door has your heart jumping out of your chest, making your quickly wipe the tears from your face and staying absolutely still. maybe if you didn’t move they’d leave, you reason.

“y/n, open up i know you’re in there” satoru sighs, staring straight at your front door through his sunglasses. “please? just wanna make sure you’re okay sweetheart.”

satoru’s voice makes you sit up straighter, panicking to fix your appearance and hiding the mess that’s become of your living room. you’re quick to splash water on your face, hoping your eyes aren’t too red as you put on a fake smile and open the door for your boyfriend.

“toru! didn’t know you were stopping by” you grin, making sure the door stayed as closed as possible to hide the state of your apartment.

“you’d know if you replied to my texts” he snips back, pushing past you with two bags in hand and placing them on your kitchen counter.

“wha- hey!” you protest, rushing after him and trying to stop him from going any further, “sorry i was uh- i was working on some stuff and got caught up” you nod, almost believing your own lie.

“oh? what were you doing?” his tone is innocent, and the way he cocks his head at an angle makes your resolve disappear, you knew you were caught the second he knocked on your door.

satoru sees your shoulders slump and chest deflate, and when he catches your bottom lip quivering he doesn’t waste time pulling you into his chest. it’s heart wrenching as you fall apart in his arms and he struggles to keep you together in his embrace. he’s got one arm squeezing you tight and another softly rubbing your back.

“I’m right here, just let it out” he whispers, his own eyes watering as you clench your fists full of his ridiculously expensive sweater.

“work has been shit and my boss is a dick and then the deadlines and i don’t wanna be a failure and-” you’re cut off by your own sobs, unsure if satoru even understands a word you’re saying. you’re mumbling into the soft fabric, letting everything you’d bottled up out.

you don’t know when satoru had picked you up and taken you to the couch, you just hold onto him tightly as he cradles you and listens to everything you have to say. he’s silent as you calm yourself down, his grip not once loosening as he continues to rub your back.

his grip only loosens when you softly push against him, letting him know to let you go. satoru complies instantly, his firm grip softens to let you choose wether to stay on his lap or move next to him. your linger for a second before settling in the spot next to him on the couch, sniffling and thanking him for the tissue to blow your nose.

“sorry” you whisper, voice shaky as you stare at the ground.

“it’s okay” he replies, “that’s why i came, do you feel better?” you nod, he smiles softly. “do you want me to say anything about it?” his voice is gentle, there’s no judgement, just love.

you think for a second, “not right now” you sigh, biting your bottom lip to stop yourself from crying again. satoru nods, a small ‘okay’ leaving his lips as he gets up and brings you the two bags he’d walked in with.

“eat before it gets any colder” is all he says before silently moving and cleaning the living room.

“you don’t have to i was gonna get to it” you say, puffy eyes staring at him as he shakes his head, leaning down and kissing your forehead.

“let me do this for you” there’s no room for argument, that much you know. instead you nod, heart warming when you see he’d brought your comfort food for you. the action itself is enough for a sniffle to escape you.

by the time you finish your meal satoru had cleaned your entire apartment, vacuum in hand as he hands you his crewneck, shorts and fresh pair of underwear. “i already turned the water on, go shower and then we can watch some tv, yeah?”

it all seems too perfect, what did someone like you do to deserve this? to deserve him? as the hot water hits your skin you sigh, letting it run over every inch of your body and letting your mind be silent for a moment. you can hear the vacuum over the sound of the shower, and your eyes land on the crewneck he’d handed to you.

it’s the same one you always use when you go over to his house, the one you’d been eyeing to steal from him for the past month. it’s his favorite one.

when you exit the restroom, freshly showered and finally feeling a bit better you’re met with a sparkling clean apartment.

“i put the dishes to wash, changed your bedsheets and dusted a bit” satoru says, taking your dirty clothes and throwing them in the washing machine alongside your other clothes.

“you wanna stay here or go to mine?” he figures you’ve had enough of your apartment for a bit, offering the change of scenery, and he could pamper you a bit more at his place.

“can we go to yours?” you sheepishly ask, avoiding eye contact.

“of course we can love bug” he replies, practically whisking you away and into his car.

it’s the first time in two days you’d left your apartment, the fresh air hitting you, almost breathing life back into you. it’s not too long before you’re arriving at satoru’s place, and he almost immediately has you under his covers and handing you the remote.

“put whatever you want, just gonna use the restroom and change first” he smiles, kissing your cheek before heading into the restroom with a change of clothes.

you were cuddled up to satoru’s side before you knew it, creating in his cologne and letting your eyes flutter shut. his body heat bringing you more comfort than a weighted blanket ever could. you scoot closer to him, wanting to be as close to his as humanly possible and never let go.

“want me to kill your boss?” satoru smiles down at you, dimples flashing when you smack him softly.

“as much as i wanna say yes i know you’d take it literally, so no” you giggle, the sound makes satoru’s heart flutter and stomach flip.

it’s a win for satoru, seeing you relaxed and refreshed as you cuddle into his side, slowly drifting off to sleep. your breathing evens out before long, holding him tightly in place. he can’t but press a gentle kiss on your forehead, tracing your features with his eyes and committing them to memory.

satoru lets his eyes flutter closed, your steady heartbeat lulling him to sleep. after all, he has to be up before you to have a word with your boss.

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bloomseishiro · 3 months ago

Text

DON’T LIKE ANYBODY, TELL ME WHY IT’S DIFFERENT WITH YOU — NAGI SEISHIRO

౨ৎ — having a crush is hard and confessing is even harder. especially when you overhear your crush complaining about how many valentine’s day chocolates he’s already received!

nagi seishiro x fem!reader. fluff, high school au/no blue lock au, yes the title is a keshi lyric bc his songs give me nagi vibes pls tell me u see it too c:, not valentine's day but here's a valentine's fic anyway ;p

word count. 1.8k

You’ve had a crush on Nagi Seishiro for a while now.

Ever since he became friends with Reo, you ended up joining their little group and the three of you, though all very different, got along surprisingly well. When you weren’t watching them practice soccer (or occasionally trying to play along with them), you were hanging out on the rooftop during lunch, and even some days spending time together outside of school before it was time for curfew.

But while you got along with them both, you noticed your stomach would flutter nervously when you spent time alone with Nagi, in a way it didn’t when you were alone with Reo.

You could only hide your feelings for so long before you felt like you would burst.

That’s why, this Valentine’s Day, you were prepared to confess your feelings through homemade chocolates!

Taking a deep breath, you hold your neatly packaged chocolates and a letter to Nagi in between your hands. You make your way over to your usual rooftop spot, hoping you beat Reo over here to give yourself a chance of speaking to Nagi alone.

Unfortunately for you, before you can even make your presence known, you overhear Nagi and Reo already talking. You hastily shove the chocolates and love letter into your school bag, promising yourself you will find time to give it to Nagi later.

As you push the door to the roof open, you pause at the words you hear.

“Dude, you almost got as many chocolates as me this year!” Reo exclaims.

“Yeah, what a pain.” That voice can only belong to Nagi. “I can only fit so many in my backpack.”

Reo snickers, and you can only imagine him slapping Nagi on the back. “Damn, who knew you could be such a heartbreaker. From no chocolates the last—how many?—years, to way too many to count.”

Nagi sighs. “I liked getting no chocolates better. Couldn’t they give something useful like jellies?”

You face drops as you internally chastise yourself for not getting Nagi something he would want. So what if the Valentine’s Day tradition was to give your crush chocolates? You should’ve known him better. Of course he wouldn’t care for chocolates. Now if you gave him your gift, he would just think it’s a burden to fit in his bag.

Interrupting you from your wallowing, you hear Reo call, “Y/N, is that you?”

Slowly, you peek in-between the crack of the door, forcing a cheerful look on your face before you fully push it open. “Hey, guys!”

Reo waves at you and Nagi stares.

“Where have you been?” asks Reo, giving you a teasing grin. “Were you off giving someone some Valentine’s Day chocolates?”

You feel your cheeks flood with heat as you shake your head. “No.”

Naturally, you keep the fact that you actually were trying to give Nagi chocolates to yourself.

“That’s a shame,” Reo says. “But you should see how many Nagi got this year!”

You manage to choke out a laugh. “I bet he’s popular now that people see what a great soccer player he is.”

“Yup, all thanks to me.”

Nodding weakly in agreement, you grip the strap of your school bag. Your eyes flit to the door and you briefly wonder if you need to spend some time alone for lunch today.

“Hey,” Nagi says, briefly putting his phone down, “you okay?”

“Yeah, I just remembered I’m supposed to help a friend with homework during lunch today,” you lie guiltily. “I’ll see you guys after school, maybe?”

Reo and Nagi exchange disbelieving glances, but you rush out the door before they can pick holes in your obvious lie. You heave a sigh as the entrance to the rooftop closes behind you, and you try to ignore the disappointment you feel in yourself. You let your nerves get the best of you and stop you from confessing, but it’s hard. And it doesn’t help that Nagi doesn’t even want more chocolates today.

As you begin to walk back to your locker, a hand on your shoulder stops you in your tracks. You stiffen in surprise, but the familiarity of the feeling immediately calms you.

“Nagi,” you say.

“Y/N. Something’s bothering you.”

You don’t deny it, but you refrain from elaborating. “Don’t worry about it, Nagi.”

He frowns. “No. I am worried.”

Your gaze softens as you look up at him. Nagi is known for being a bit oblivious and self-centered, but you know he’s someone who cares for his friends, even if he isn’t always outwardly affectionate. Being a witness to his soft side is what drew you to him in a more than platonic way.

The chocolate in your bag feels heavy as you clutch your bag closer to your body.

You’re alone with him now. This is your chance to let your feelings be known. But what if he hates your chocolates? Worse— What if Nagi rejects you?

“Your face is doing the thing again,” he says, lifting the furrow of your brow with his middle finger to stop your frown.

“Hey!” you cry, swatting his hand away. A surprised chuckle almost escapes you, but the bundle of nerves in your stomach stops you from fully relaxing.

Nagi brings his arms down to his sides, but continues to look at you expectantly.

You close your eyes, taking a deep breath. It’s now or never.

“I overheard you and Reo talking earlier,” you state shakily. “About how you got too many chocolates today.”

He blinks and you almost lose what little composure you had.

Taking a giant breath of air, you let out all at once, “I made you some chocolates and I was going to give it to you, I wanted to, really, but then you said you had too many and you would rather have jellies and I don’t have any jellies for you and I don’t want to give you more chocolates that will just inconvenience you I should’ve gotten jellies instead so I’m going now.”

Spinning around on your heel, you start speed-walking away before he can comprehend your ramblings.

“Wait—”

You don’t stop.

“I want your chocolates,” says Nagi, somehow able to understand your rush of words.

Your eyes widen and you stop in your tracks. “You do? But you have too many already…”

He shrugs. “Don’t care. I can toss those. I only want yours.”

Though you want to chastise Nagi for saying he’ll throw other people’s chocolates away—even you think that’s too heartless—you have more pressing matters in your hands.

“You want mine?” you repeat, eyes wide as you hoped you didn’t mishear him.

“Yeah. You made them for me, right?”

You nod, fishing the wrapped chocolates you made out of your school bag. “I even bought a mold shaped like a gaming controller! Since you enjoy games. I wanted to find a soccer ball mold too, but I didn’t order one in time.”

Without making eye contact, you hold the chocolates with outstretched arms, secretly wishing you could speed this moment up to avoid any potential embarrassments.

There’s a pause before you feel a heavy hand on your head, causing your cheeks to warm up even more. Nagi ruffles your hair and murmurs, “Thank you.”

He takes the wrapped up candies into his hands, examining it closely with a sparkle in his eyes.

Pleased at his gratitude, you slowly pull out the letter from your bag. “I also have this,” you announce meekly, offering him the letter.

The envelope has the words “NAGI” in large print, with a little heart dotted over the “i.” The paper is made of a light pink material and, of course, you used your finest stationery to write this.

Nagi’s eyes widen as he takes the note in-between his hands and the tips of his ears change into the same color as your letter.

“You don’t have to read it now!” you blurt out. “You can read it when I leave or when you get home—!”

He opens the envelope and takes the letter out of the pocket.

“Or, sure, that’s fine. You can read it now,” you say sheepishly.

Nagi,

I’m glad we became friends! You and Reo are the best part of my school days. But with you, I want to see what it’s like to be more than friends…

I hope this doesn’t put too much pressure on you! I just wanted to share my feelings before it was too late. Regardless of how you feel about me, I’ll always be grateful to have gotten this close to you.

Happy Valentine’s Day! Thank you for being you, Nagi <3

Lots of Love,

Y/N

As Nagi looks at the note in his hand, the blush from his ears spreads to the rest of his face as he holds the letter tighter. Fighting off the heat he feels, Nagi nods. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Let’s be more than friends,” he clarifies, referencing what you wrote in the letter. “Will you be my girlfriend?”

Your jaw almost drops as you blink rapidly. Of all the outcomes you foresaw coming, this situation is on the bottom of your list.

“Wait, me?”

“The cement wall behind you,” says Nagi dryly. “Yes, you.”

Your stomach feels as if someone shook a bottle of soda pop before opening it. The feeling of warmth and uncontrollable excitement courses through your body— You notice tingles everywhere. From your toes to your chest to your head.

A grin graces your face and you feel your cheeks hurt from smiling so hard. “Yes, I’ll be your girlfriend! Does this mean you like me, too?”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t,” he promises, placing your love note into his pant pocket. “I’m glad you confessed. I’ll treasure this letter. And these chocolates.”

Unable to control your happiness any longer, you run forward and give Nagi a hug at full speed. As you make contact, you wrap your arms around his neck and he encloses you with his own. You feel the heat of his hands emanating through your blouse.

You giggle as you rest your head on the crook of his neck. “Enjoy the chocolates, boyfriend.”

“I will…girlfriend.”

Before the moment can get too intimate, you hear a door creek open and a loud cheer in the back, causing you to jump in surprise.

Reo emerges from the rooftop with a wide smile on his face. “I knew this would happen— Finally!”

You laugh at his look of excitement as he claps Nagi on the back and gives you a high five.

“Now I don’t have to be in the middle of your hopeless, longing looks and awkward flirting,” he teases with a wink. “I’m happy for you two.”

Nagi’s hand finds yours as he gently intertwines your fingers in his. Shivers travel up your spine as you flush.

“I’m happy, too,” says Nagi.

“Me, three,” you cheer, still grinning from ear to ear. This is the best Valentine’s Day ever.

#🌸.writings #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #nagi seishiro x reader #nagi x reader #blue lock x you #blue lock #nagi seishiro #bllk #bllk fluff #bllk x you #seishiro nagi x reader #blue lock oneshots #blue lock fanfiction #bllk fanfic #nagi fluff #blue lock fluff

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thecowboyfiles · 25 days ago

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mean! reader cornering bob in the hallway & giving him a handjob while the team is inches away bc bob cant keep his hands to himself 🥴

‎‧₊˚✩ 🪐✩˚₊‧

📂 Current File: ▼ ▶ 3.0_naughtyboy.mov

ⓘ Robert Reynolds x Female Reader

Robert has always been exceptionally needy - not in everyday things - he was one of the most capable men you knew, but in the bedroom, well, that's where he needed some guidance. That's where he needed to be put in his place.

He had certainly been pushing it lately, touching you around the team, just small things, a hand sliding up your thigh under the booth at the bar, a hand slipping up your shirt to cup your boob in the dark of team movie nights, but at the end of the week you had enough of it. He needed to remember who was in charge.

You catch him an his way to the next meeting, pulling him just around the corner. “where do you think you’re going, Robby?”

“To the meeting?” He frowns, gesturing toward the kitchen where you both know everybody else is already sitting.

“oh no, i don’t think so,” You smirk, he hasn’t clued in to what’s happening yet, if he had he wouldn’t have been so openly defiant or sure in how he was speaking. “You’ve been a very bad boy this week. I think you need a refresher course on who owns you.” You don't even give him the chance to respond before you are shoving your hand down his pants.

Robert gasps, head snapping toward the opening to the kitchen. Despite his obvious anxiety, his cock hardens quickly in your hand and he looks back at you, eyes wide and biting his lip.

“Not so bold now, are you baby?” You pull your hand back out and bring it up to his mouth. “Spit,” you demand.

Obediently, Robert spits in your hand and looks back up at you, lips wet. You don’t give him the satisfaction of meeting his eyes. Instead, you focus on jerking his cock, hard and fast. He's already leaking against your palm, and his desperate little whimpers are getting louder and louder, but you don't stop.

"Slow—slow down," He gasps out, knees and thighs shaking, trying desperately to keep him upright and not let him crumble under the pleasure.

"Now, why would I do that?" You can't help but smirk, taunting in your voice. "You wanted to touch so bad before, now I get to touch you." You look up and see the way his Adam's apple bobs, clearly swallowing down his needy noises. "Don't stop yourself, baby. I think everyone in the kitchen should know who you belong to and what happens to pretty little Robby's when they get too bold."

"Ohh, ahhh, oh fuck, m'gonna cum, please, please, I need..."

You know he's close, you can feel the way his cock twitches and jerks under your tight fist, twisting on each upstroke and rubbing over the sensitive head, but you don't stop. "What is it, hm?" You taunt, "What do you need?"

"Shit, oh god, I need to cum" He whines out, head falling back, no doubt his toes are curling in his boots.

You give him a mock pout, jutting your bottom lip right in front of his face. "If only you weren't such a brat this week," You smirk, pulling your hand out of his pants and licking off the precum. "You know only good boys get rewards, Robert, but maybe you can ask again tonight."

With that, you push past him and make your way into the kitchen, leaving him dumbfounded behind you. You knew neither of you had been quiet, so when you sat down at the table and all eyes were on you with varying degrees of horrified and impressed, you just shrugged and grabbed a mug from the cupboard.

#robert reynolds #robert reynolds x reader #bob reynolds fanfic #bob thunderbolts #bob reynolds smut #thunderbolts #bob reynolds x reader #marvel #robert reynolds smut #new avengers #thunderbolts*#mcu #sentry #thunderbolts fanfic #bob reynolds #the sentry #female reader #afab reader

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marauder-misprint · 5 months ago

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Hiii! So I wanna start off by saying how absolutely in love I am with your writing. It's so fucking amazing and I can never get enough, I swear I've read most of your marauders' fics more than three times cause they just stay absolute gems 😭

I love how you write Remus, he's such a cutie, and I was hoping maybe you'd want to write a little fic with shy!reader x casanova!Remus? Some pining from reader's side, who's not at all popular or well-known and wayyy too shy to ever make a move, let alone on Remus? I'd like it to be fluffy, but it can contain basically anything you want 🫶

Thank you so so so much!

🥰🥰🥰 Thank you for all the love/support and the request!

And if reader won't make a move on Remus, he'll make a move on you. But politely bc that's who Remus is.

'These damn stairs'

part 2, part 3

Remus Lupin x reader

2k words

cw: fluff, mutual pining

It was a common sight to see: Remus studying in the library at a full table. Occasionally, the other seats were filled by James, Sirius and Peter, but more often than not, they were filled with various girls. He was always leaning over the table to explain something, keeping his voice low enough to not disrupt others. When he wasn’t at his own table, you would watch him offer his assistance to other girls in the area. It was obvious why so many girls loved him and purposefully sat near his table, simply hoping their expression was confused enough to catch his attention.

From what you could tell, he loved it too. How could he not? Pretty girls from every house trying to get his attention. You knew Gryffindor girls were the luckiest; they could vie for his attention in their common room as well and they had the highest chance of sharing a class with him.

You watched Remus from afar. He was a mischievous genius, part of the Marauders and a prefect. You were a nobody who preferred to stay out of the spotlight. As much as you’d like to have Remus’ attention, you knew it would come with far more eyes on you than you wanted. You made peace with admiring him in secret. You envied the girls with the courage to lean over his shoulder, asking him to read their essay for them. You wished you were a part of the group that surrounded him during quidditch matches. You dreamed that one day Remus might invite you to Hogsmeade on a date, despite knowing that the chances of that were slim.

You were surviving the day and on your way to the library during your free period.

At least you were when your foot sunk into a fake step and got lodged. You cried out as your books spewed from your arms, spilling down the stairs. The few students who were around you snickered and walked around you. No one stopped to help you up or free your foot. The embarrassment alone was enough for tears to prick your eyes. You squeezed your eyes shut and took deep breaths to gather yourself.

“Hey, are you okay?”

That voice. You’d recognize it anywhere. You opened your eyes to see Remus kneeling next to you. He had some of your things that had fallen farther down the stairs.

“These damn stairs, right?” he joked when you didn’t answer him.

He set your things down a few steps up and then gently reached for your calf.

“Turn your foot to the left. Then point your toes. It’ll help you wiggle your foot free,” he instructed.

You did as told and soon enough you were free.

“Thanks,” you said softly.

You immediately went into gathering the rest of your things.

“Yeah, it’s no problem, love.” He stood up when you did. “I’m Remus, by the way.” Part of you wanted to laugh that Remus thought you didn’t know who he was. Instead, you mumbled out your name and said, “Thanks again, Remus.”

Then, no longer feeling like studying due to your humiliation, you headed in the direction of your common room, holding your book tight to your chest. Remus watched you walk away. He recognized your face from the classes you had together and the time you spent at the library. He had never approached you in the library because of the focus that emanated from your table; he didn’t want to disturb your flow.

You hoped to put the embarrassment of falling into a false step behind you. You had gotten Remus’ attention, but it wasn’t in the way you wanted. You certainly hadn’t wanted it to be paired with the laughter of your peers. Little did you know how deeply you caught Remus’ attention.

He chatted with his friends outside of the Transfiguration classroom the next day. When you walked by, he smiled at you and said hello. You returned the gesture and hoped you weren’t blushing as all of his friends looked at you. You took your seat and tried to calm yourself down. Simple pleasantries should not send you into such a frenzy.

Remus noticed your reaction, finding it curious. It didn’t deter him from acknowledging you whenever he was near you. He would’ve been lying to himself if he said he didn’t think your blush was cute. The more he observed you, the more he realized how much you kept to yourself and seemed content to be alone. That, however, made Remus want to get to know you. He wanted to know the girl who hadn’t put herself directly in his path.

He made sure to stop by wherever you were studying in the library to say hello. He would take a longer route to where his friends were sitting in the Great Hall so that he could ask you a question about homework, whether he actually needed the answer or not. He tried to catch you in between classes, but you proved to be more elusive then. Each interaction left you blushing and flustered, although after two weeks of it, you came more accustomed to it. Remus saw that as progress and hoped you would be open to having a real conversation with him.

If someone had told you a month ago that you’d be trying to avoid Remus, you wouldn’t have believed them. However, you somewhat were. Every time he spoke to you, you felt like the whole castle was listening in and judging every word you said to him. You assumed that he was just being polite. You assumed that you were just the girl who fell on the stairs to him.

---

“When I call your name, come get your essay and then you are dismissed,” Professor Flitwick said, holding the stack of graded essays at the front of the classroom. “James Potter, Emmeline Vance, Severus Snape, Remus Lupin.”

The first four students got up and retrieved their essays. You rested your head on your hand as you waited for your name. Obviously they weren’t in alphabetical order, and you assumed it wasn’t grade-wise either since you were confident in the essay you turned in. After a few more names were called, Flitwick called yours. You got your essay, noted the O at the top and left the classroom with a small smile on your face. Maybe it was the order in which the essays were turned in?

“Hey!” Remus called from where he was standing off to the side.

You kept walking. There was no way that he was talking to you. Sirius or Peter must’ve been called after you.

Then he called your name. You froze. You could hear footsteps as he jogged over to you.

“How’d you do?” he asked once at your side. “O! Nice.”

You realized you were still holding your essay and hurriedly tucked it inside of your things.

“Yeah, I put in the work.”

He gave you his easy smile and then ran a hand through his hair.

“I was wondering if I could ask you something.”

“Um, sure?”

“Would you like to study with me later?”

You stared at him, unable to breathe. Had he just asked if you wanted to study with him? Well, yes, he had. But it didn’t feel real. Your mind started to spin with worry. You wanted to study with Remus. You wanted to spend time with him. But whenever he studied, he was always surrounded by so many other people vying for his attention. It was bad enough that whenever he talked to you, you could feel the eyes of everyone passing you; you knew that they were wondering why a guy like Remus was talking to a nobody like you.

Remus said your name, bringing you out of your thoughts.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah. I’d like that,” you managed to say.

His smile, which had briefly faltered at your hesitation, relaxed.

“Great!” he said. “Meet you outside the library after dinner, yeah?”

“Yeah. Erm, I’ll see you then, Remus.”

Remus turned and headed back towards the classroom, likely to wait for Sirius and Peter if they hadn’t been called already. You took a deep breath to steady yourself before you continued on your own way. You had just agreed to study with Remus and he was the one to ask you. He had actually asked you. And you agreed.

It didn’t take long for your nerves to spike. You were regretting your decision to agree. The feeling of looming embarrassment hung around you for the rest of the day and through dinner. Part of you debated sending Remus a note saying that you were feeling ill and couldn’t make it, but another part told you that he might not invite you again and this could be your chance to make an impression on him.

You ended up walking to the library. With each step, you felt your heart rate increase. You were sure that if you weren’t holding onto your things with such a death grip, your hands would be shaking.

Remus was waiting for you, just as he had said he would.

“Hi!” he greeted you enthusiastically.

You smiled at him as he held open the door for you.

“I’ve got a table claimed in the back,” he told you, taking the lead.

Your nerves changed into confusion as you passed Remus’ usual collection of tables. He led you to a more secluded part of the library where his things littered one of the smaller tables with only two chairs around it.

Trying not to sound too ecstatic by the sight, you asked, “Oh, is it just us?”

Remus chuckled softly. “I invited you to study, not our entire year.”

A subtle blush dusted your cheeks.

“Oh… I just… You’re usually…” you mumbled.

“Yeah, I know,” he said. There was that easy smile again. “Forgive me if I'm wrong, but I assumed you’d rather have a more private table.” He paused as he watched your face for a change in expression. “We can move to a different table, if you’d like.”

Your blush became more prominent. He actually put thought into what table you’d like to study at?

“Oh, no, no. This is good. You’re right. I study better when there’s less people around.”

“Helps with focusing, don’t it?”

“Yeah,” you breathed as you placed your things on the table.

His smile grew. He pulled out your chair and helped you in before taking his own seat. The two of you worked diligently in silence for a while. Every once in a while he stopped and watched you work; he loved the face you made when you focused so deeply that nothing around you could catch your attention.

“What’d you think of Slughorn’s lecture today?” he asked.

“Hm?” You looked up from your assignment and processed what he had asked. “Kind of repetitive, if I’m honest. I guess some students need the review though…”

“Glad it wasn’t just me,” he smirked. “Good thing there are some pretty distractions in that class.”

You gave him a curious look as you repeated, “Pretty distractions?”

“You know,” he said, resting his elbow on the table, “the same pretty distraction that I have Charms, Transfiguration, Arithmancy, Defense with.”

You bit your lip. You had those classes with him.

“Believe it or not, saw that same distraction on the stairs a few weeks ago. Strange how she travels…”

Oh. oh. You blushed furiously before turning your attention back to your assignment. Remus Lupin was not flirting with you. There was no way.

He let you return to your work, watching you sort through your thoughts for a minute before returning to his own. Once again, you worked in tandem. After a while, you started yawning. You cleaned up your stuff, which caught Remus attention.

“This was nice,” he said as he started to gather his own things. “I’d like to study with you more, if you’ll have me.”

If you’ll have me.

“Same time tomorrow?” you offered.

“Same time tomorrow.”

As he watched you leave the library, all Remus could think about was getting you to come out of that shell of yours. Maybe then he’d be able to ask you out on a date.

#marauders #marauders fic #marauder-misprint #request #remus lupin fic #remus lupin #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x reader

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wonderhomeland · 5 months ago

Text

Part 2 of alpha!simon

He won't come near you.

The first time you actually feel him, There was a great distance between you. Not knowing how he looks like, you just guess from his scent. Even from this far, you could tell he is always the tallest in the room, not exactly hiding, but trying to not be obvious.

Just... Standing there. Observing you intensly. He's trying his best to get your attention and You could tast the mood change in the air when you finally give up and stare at him over your sholder.

God... He's so scary...

After that, he strat showing up more, follows you with a safe distans, like a ghost. never comes to you, say hi, get to know you.

Is he trying to make you uncomfortable?

Is this his way to get rid of you?

His scent is all over your room. It doesn't go off. Its been two weeks already.

There is a feeling, tells you that he comes back every night and resumption his scent.

Cus you saw him, standing and staring at your door like damn dog.

You know he's not doing it just to keep every alpha and omega and beta, every one away. They're afraid of him. All of them. You know that bc when you were introducing yourself, you saw how strangely they acted after hearing his name.

They don't dare cross the line.

They won't touch what's Simon Riley's.

Nobody does.

After that, you realized that his doing this for you. It was a message. Let you know who you belong to.

He didn't touch anything Just marked the confines of your room. At least, you hope. the only place that smelled like him was around your door.

That strong smell that makes you press your thighs together every time.

You never wanted to do this, it feels like you were selling yourself -technically, you were- but the amout of money that have been offered... no one could refuse.

You thought, amoung all of options you had, you chose the most normal one. Other fils were full of photo's, cocky notes about temselves, along with their Lifetime achievements and position.

He was the only one without anything unnecessary. Not even a picture. Only his name.

SIMON RILEY

LIEUTENANT

CODE NAME: GHOST

It was stupid to chose him. Not knowing anyting about him, till he stick his teet in the flesh of you sking, marking you as his, and then, you can strat to know who you're stuck with for the rest of your life.

But you thought about it for days, in that time he was the best option. when the other omegas find out who you're going for , they try dissuade you. Save you.

Telling you that his file has been here for years. Cus no one want's the Beast.

you thought that he's just ... not good-looking or he doesnt have a good personality, maybe a good knot.

When you think about it now, even without anything, his file sound chaotic.

Untamed. Crazy.

When you came to base to meet your soon-to-be-alpha, they give you...odd looks. Like you were a lamb leading into the wolf's mouth. But now you get it.

After the unsuccssesful chasing. You expect them to send you back.

Maybe someone else. There are planty alphas out there for you.

But no, they just smile. A sweet one. Not mad.

Make yourself usefull. You know how things go around here, right?

I'm here for that alpha not to clean the storage room...

You never say that tho.

Organizing the files wasn't hard, you were used to putting everything in its place.

"All done, and as you said I brought you all the documents related to the soldiers' leave in the last two years"

"Hmm, better than i expected , you know how to keep things clean right? All in place. Not shocking you're the one he wants ."

What-

"Sorry, captain, i don't underestand what are you talking about"

"Oh no, you know what i'm talking about. I must be concerned about your survival skills if you didn't notice your little shadow. You feel him right? Never seen him so excited, nor so distracted, leting his pheromones spread so much for an omega."

Omega, he puts it like it's an insult.

"Sir, it's not my fult that he can't cntrol his pheromones. Actually, I don't appreciate the fact that he's spreading his scent everywhere near me, especially after he ignored the courting and left me alone!"

"You know, Been years trying to find him a good mate, he is good soldier, know how to keep things clean. Like you"

amused by you reaction, He continued.

"But he is also a man, not a good one, even don't know how te be a good alpha. Hell he's a shitty one for leaving such lovey thing like you alone, but he doesn't answer any questions about his omega, No one even dares to ask questions about his omega. Every time we try to set him up with some one, he just wrinkled his nose. Telling me he is bothered by their scent. But i know he need one help him to heal his soul and i know by time he will be a great alpha for her"

He looks at you like you're the one who can help him. Ignoring your confused face, he walked past you and headed down the hallway.

"He likes you, give him a chance"

Just after he turn to the corner, you saw him. Closer than ever, standing right there, staring at your soul for a moment, and then he start following his captain.

Good lord...

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

English is not my first language so forgive me for any mistake! Tnx for reading till end!-☆

He is just a man who need someone to embrace him. :(

Taglist> @immapeppers 💖

#cod ghost #ghost cod #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #love him

634 notes · View notes

dreamersparacosm · 4 months ago

Text

jeon jungkook - under the checkered flag (part four)

warnings ; alcohol consumption, reader is STILL a clown, jk is also a clown

prompt ; in which a girl who doesn’t believe in risks takes the biggest one of all—falling for a man who lives for the thrill.

note ; it’s actually sickening how quick i wrote this part bc i was so excited for their story i need to get a life. i really relate to reader so i see her struggles but also jk is so sexy so what we doin fr girl. (don’t get excited yall they’re not even close to smashing yet.. or idk, maybe.. who’s to say?) all ur love and comments on the last part made me so happy yeehaw

playlist here

series masterlist here

“You need to get out there.”

Jisoo’s voice is firm, her arms crossed as she leans against your desk, watching you like you’re some kind of puzzle she’s determined to solve.

You barely glance up from your screen, fingers still moving across the keyboard. “I get out there.”

Jisoo snorts. “Yeah, to his house.”

You pause, fingers stuck mid-air. Jisoo has unfortunately read you better than yourself again. She really should get an award for deciphering your inner monologues.

She smirks, triumphant. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”

You roll your eyes, exhaling sharply as you sit back in your chair. “What’s your point, Jisoo?”

“My point,” she says, flipping her hair over her shoulder, “is that you are doing absolutely nothing about the Jungkook situation, and I’m sick of watching it.”

“There is no Jungkook situation,” you argue, though even as you say it, the words feel wrong in your mouth.

Jisoo just looks at you with a familiar gaze, and you wither under her stare. You could not be more obvious if you tried.

“You’re impossible,” she sighs. “Fine. If you’re not gonna do anything about him, at least give my friend a shot.”

You blink. “What?”

Jisoo perks up instantly, sensing an opening. “I’ve got a friend. Great guy. Works in finance. Super chill. Hot in a ‘wears suits and probably owns expensive whiskey’ kind of way. Your type.”

You frown, shaking your head. “I don’t have a type.”

Jisoo grins. “Oh, you do. And it’s not Jungkook.”

Something in your stomach twists. She’s right. On any good day, about three months ago, you would’ve laughed if you saw Jungkook in a bar, probably would’ve made a comment on how tattoos are disrespectful. Now all you do is admire the art on his arm, wanting desperately to trace your fingers on the designs.

Jisoo doesn’t notice—or maybe she does and just doesn’t care—because she’s already pulling out her phone, scrolling quickly.

“Okay, look.” She shoves the screen toward you, displaying a picture of a man. He’s well-dressed, smiling, objectively attractive. “See? Handsome. Stable job. Probably goes to bed at a reasonable hour.”

You hesitate. You should say no. You should shut this down immediately. But instead, you stare at the photo a second too long. There’s a few reasons for this: Jungkook hasn’t texted you all day, and you keep thinking about him, about that conversation, about how he looked at you when he said, "Yeah, I fucking know. It’s all I think about."

You need to fix whatever this is.

And maybe, just maybe this will help. Maybe this will prove something to yourself.

“Fine,” you murmur, looking away. “I’ll go.”

Jisoo gasps, delighted. “Oh my god. You never say yes to things. I’m so proud.”

You shake your head. “It’s just one date.”

“One date,” she repeats, winking. “And if you don’t like him, then at least we’ve confirmed one thing.”

You frown. “What?”

Jisoo leans in, her voice teasing but knowing. “That you’re already taken.”

Your stomach clenches and you glare at her, but she just laughs.

And for the rest of the day, you pretend like her words don’t echo in your head.

By the time you get home, the weight of the day settles into your bones. The office had been its usual whirlwind—meetings bleeding into each other, emails stacking up, numbers flashing across your screen in an endless stream of data. But even as you buried yourself in spreadsheets and client calls, your mind had been elsewhere.

Jisoo’s words still linger, curling around your thoughts like smoke. “If you don’t like him, then at least we’ve confirmed one thing: That you’re already taken."

You exhale, shaking your head as you slip off your blazer, tossing it over the back of your chair. It’s just one date. Just one night to remind yourself of what you want. And it has nothing to do with Jungkook. You cross your heart and hope to die.

Your phone vibrates against your nightstand almost comically as the thought leaves your mind.

Jungkook: Wanna FaceTime?

Your stomach does something stupid, and you ignore it. Instead, you slide into bed, propping your phone up against your pillow before answering the call.

Jungkook’s face fills the screen, messy hair, damp like he just got out of the shower, a hoodie adorning his body. His room is dimly lit, a lamp casting warm light behind him.

“Hey,” you say, voice softer than you mean it to be.

Jungkook smirks, shifting to get comfortable. “Hey yourself. Rough day?”

You hum, rubbing a hand over your face. “Long day.”

Jungkook watches you for a beat, like he’s reading something in your expression. “Need me to come beat up your boss?”

You huff a quiet laugh. “Tempting.”

He grins, pleased, and the tension in your shoulders eases just a little. See, this is normal. This is you and him. Effortless, easy.

And then, before you can overthink it, the words slip out. “Oh—Jisoo set me up on a date.”

Jungkook stills. For a fraction of a second, his face is completely blank. No teasing smirk, no lighthearted remark. Just… nothing.

“Oh yeah?” He leans back, resting his head against the pillow. “Guess it was bound to happen eventually.”

Something about the way he says it makes your stomach tighten. You tilt your head slightly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Jungkook shrugs. “Just figured it’d happen sooner or later. You’re—” He waves a hand vaguely. “You know.”

You frown. “No, I don’t.”

His jaw tightens, but his voice stays infuriatingly neutral. “You’re the whole ‘finance, responsible, put-together’ thing. Kinda makes sense you’d go for some suit-wearing guy with a stable job.”

Your brows knit together. “First of all, you haven’t seen the guy. And two, you say that like it’s a bad thing.”

Jungkook exhales through his nose, a short breath that almost sounds like a laugh. “It’s not.”

But something in his voice makes it seem like it is.

You narrow your eyes slightly. “Are you—” You hesitate, studying him. His body language is relaxed, but his responses are shorter, his usual easy smirk nowhere to be found. “Are you weird about this?”

Jungkook scoffs. “Why the fuck would I be weird?”

You blink. “I don’t know. You just sound—”

“I sound fine,” he says, a little too quickly.

You raise a brow. “Okay.”

A beat of silence.

Jungkook shifts, adjusting his hoodie strings, eyes flickering off to the side. “So. Who’s the guy?”

You hesitate. “Just a friend of Jisoo’s. Works in finance.”

Jungkook hums, expression unreadable. “Right. Of course he does.”

Your stomach flips, and you don’t know why.

You cross your arms over your chest, tilting your head. “Why do I feel like you’re judging me right now?”

Jungkook smirks, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “I’m not judging. Just… making an observation.”

You hate how much this feels like a shift, like something between you is stretching too tight, pulling at the seams of whatever you’ve built together. It’s just a date. Jungkook shouldn’t care. And yet, his voice is slightly clipped, his jaw tighter than before. He definitely cares.

You chew on your lip. “Are you sure you’re—”

“I’m good,” Jungkook interrupts, forcing an easy grin. “Just curious, that’s all.”

Somehow, that bothers you more, because he’s not good and neither are you. Jungkook shifts again, rolling onto his side, resting his chin on his hand as he exhales through his nose. And then, just like that, he changes the subject. “So, did you ever end up telling your coworker off today?”

You blink, caught off guard by the sudden shift. “What?”

Jungkook smirks, his expression relaxing, like he’s willing the tension out of the conversation. “Your coworker. The one who won’t stop bringing those tuna sandwiches that smell. Did you finally tell him where to shove it?”

You huff a small laugh, sinking further into your pillows. “I don’t think I have the luxury of doing that.”

“Shame.” Jungkook tuts, shaking his head. “If I were your coworker, I’d be terrified of you.”

You snort. “You would not.”

“Oh, I would.” He leans closer to the camera, eyes glinting. “You’ve got that whole quiet-but-powerful thing going on. Like you’re secretly running the whole operation but letting everyone think they have control.”

Your cheeks warm, but you roll your eyes. “That’s ridiculous.”

Jungkook grins. “I’m just saying, you do have a certain… intimidation factor.”

“You’re literally a race car driver. I’m pretty sure you have the intimidation factor,” You laugh.

“Yeah, but mine’s expected. Yours is dangerous.”

You shake your head, but you’re smiling, and just like that, the conversation falls into the same effortless rhythm it always does.

You talk about your day. He talks about his: how he nearly fell asleep during a sponsorship meeting, how he almost punched a guy for stealing his protein bar, how he spent an hour trying to fix something in his car before realizing he’d been using the wrong tool the whole time. You laugh. He teases you. It’s normal.

For a moment, you forget about the tension from earlier. You forget about the date looming over you. You forget about everything except the fact that this—talking to Jungkook, feeling at ease with him—feels like the most natural thing in the world.

You don’t even realize how late it gets. You yawn, rubbing your eyes, and Jungkook notices. “Tired?”

You nod. “Yeah.”

He exhales, shifting onto his back, staring at the ceiling for a moment. Then, before you can say goodnight, “I hope you have fun tomorrow.”

Your stomach clenches. He says it so genuinely. So smoothly, like it’s just another sentence, just another thing he’d say at the end of any conversation. But you know better.

You bite the inside of your cheek, studying him through the screen. “Thanks.”

Jungkook hums, nodding slightly. “Goodnight, [Y/N].”

Your heart stumbles over its own rhythm. You don’t know why, but it does. The sound of your name falling from his mouth with ease seems to stop you in your tracks. You don’t say anything for a beat, but Jungkook doesn’t press. He just watches you, waiting.

Finally, you swallow. “Goodnight, Jungkook.”

And when the call ends, you’re left staring at the dark screen, the silence of your room feeling impossibly loud.

Because despite everything—despite the fact that you’re supposed to be going on a date tomorrow—you can’t stop wishing it was with him.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Getting ready shouldn’t feel like this.

It shouldn’t feel like dragging yourself through wet cement, like trying to convince your own reflection that this is something you actually want. But as you sit at your vanity, smoothing concealer under your eyes, brushing powder over your cheeks, curling your lashes with precision, you feel nothing. Not excitement, not nerves. Just… a dull awareness that this is happening, and that somehow, you agreed to it.

Your phone sits beside you, screen dark, mockingly silent. Jungkook hasn’t texted you all day. You don’t know why you expected him to. It’s not like he texts you every day. (Except he does. Almost always. But maybe not today. Maybe not when he knows where you’re going tonight.)

You swallow, shaking your head, brushing a final layer of lip gloss over your lips before grabbing your bag.

This is fine. This is good for you. You need to stop thinking about Jungkook like this. You need to prove that you can.

The drive to the restaurant is quiet.

The city moves around you—neon signs flickering, headlights spilling across the pavement, people weaving in and out of late-night cafés. You grip the steering wheel a little too tightly, your thoughts a little too loud.

Jisoo’s friend’s name is Minho. He’s perfect on paper. Finance guy. Smart, successful, stable. The kind of man your mother would approve of. The kind of man who won’t leave you breathless, who won’t make you feel like you’re hurtling toward something dangerous every time he looks at you. The kind of man who makes sense. And yet, you find yourself dreading every second of this.

You pull into the parking lot, smoothing invisible wrinkles from your dress, inhaling deep as you step out of your car. This is fine. You’re going to have dinner. Make conversation. Enjoy yourself. You will not think about Jungkook.

Minho is already waiting when you arrive.

He’s tall, dressed in a crisp button-down and tailored slacks. His smile is warm, his handshake firm but not too firm. He opens the door for you, gestures for you to go first, waits for you to sit before taking his own seat. It’s… nice. Everything about him is nice.

The restaurant hums with quiet chatter, soft lighting casting a golden glow over the tables. A waiter appears, handing you menus, listing off the specials in a pleasant tone.

You glance up briefly, offering a polite smile. “What do you recommend?”

Minho hums, scanning the menu. “The chicken looks good. But honestly, I’m not too picky. What about you?”

Your lips part, ready to agree with him on the steak. And then a thought crosses your mind. Jungkook wouldn’t have asked. Jungkook would’ve smirked, leaned back in his chair, teased you about ordering the most boring thing on the menu just to be safe.

Your stomach tightens. You clear your throat, forcing a small smile. “I think I’ll get pasta.”

Minho nods approvingly. “Solid choice.”

The night, the conversation flows easily enough. Minho is polite, well-spoken. He asks about your job, actually listens when you explain the intricacies of consulting, nodding in understanding, adding his own insights about the financial world. It’s… easy. But it’s not effortless. Not like it is with Jungkook.

Minho tells a story about a trip he took last summer. You laugh, because you’re supposed to. But the whole time, your mind is somewhere else. Jungkook would’ve made fun of you for fake-laughing right now.

You reach for your phone, out of habit. Still nothing. Not a single message from him. Your fingers hesitate over the screen before you force yourself to set it back down.

“So, what do you do for fun?” Minho asks, sipping his wine.

You blink. “Fun?”

He chuckles. “Yeah. What do you do when you’re not working?”

Your mind blanks as you come to a detrimental realization. Jungkook is your fun. Wine nights. Video games. Him annoying you just to get a reaction.

You chew on the inside of your cheek, feeling ridiculous. “Uh. I don’t know.”

Minho laughs lightly. “I get it. Work keeps you busy.”

You nod, nearly choking on your saliva as it goes down. You should like this, you should like him, but you don’t. And the realization makes you feel sick. On autopilot, you check your phone again.

That’s really when it hits you. You don’t want to be here. You don’t care if Minho is the perfect guy. You don’t want polite smiles and easy conversation. You want teasing smirks and sarcastic remarks and late-night ramen and someone who reads every little thing about you before you even say it out loud. You want Jungkook, and no amount of pretending is going to change that.

Somewhere in the middle of the date, as time ticks dangerously slow, you realize you need to leave in the middle of his story.

Minho is talking—something about his last trip to Jeju, a hiking trail, how he got lost but ended up finding the best seafood restaurant tucked into the cliffs—but you’re barely listening.

You’re nodding at the right moments, humming in agreement, sipping at your wine, but your mind is somewhere else, or rather—with someone else.

Jungkook wouldn’t have let you zone out like this. Jungkook would have noticed the second your mind drifted, smirked at you across the table, called you out on it just to see you flustered.

But Minho just keeps talking, and you can’t help but compare. You feel awful about it, but the thought keeps nagging at the back of your mind. This is supposed to be good for you.

You inhale slowly, fixing the napkin folded in your lap, shaking yourself out of your own head. Focus. Try. Minho is nice. He’s stable. He’s normal.

A thought slams into you with such certainty that it nearly knocks the breath out of your lungs. You need to get out of here.

“Minho.” You blink, sitting up a little straighter. “I’m so sorry—I just realized I have an early meeting tomorrow. I should probably call it a night.”

Minho pauses, a little surprised, but he nods easily. “Of course. No problem at all.”

He doesn’t look disappointed. Just polite. Understanding. That somehow makes you feel worse. Because the truth is, he probably felt the lack of something between you, too.

You push out of your chair, pulling a few bills from your bag for your share of the dinner, but Minho waves a hand. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got it.”

You force a small smile. “Thank you.”

The waiter returns with the check, and you busy yourself slipping on your coat, gripping the lapels a little too tightly.

Minho stands with you, offering a smile. “It was really nice meeting you.”

“You too,” you say, and you mean it. He’s good. He’s great, actually. He’s just not Jungkook.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

You don’t even think about it.

One second, you’re stepping into your apartment, kicking off your heels, breath still uneven from leaving the restaurant earlier than you should have. The next, your fingers are hovering over Jungkook’s name, your phone vibrating with noise as you wait for him to answer.

It’s muscle memory. Instinct. He answers immediately, like he was waiting.

The screen flickers to life, and there he is: hoodie on, silver chain glinting against his collarbone, hair messy from the day’s activities. His eyes flicker over your face, assessing, before his lips pull into a lazy smirk. "Thought you’d be out late."

His tone is casual. Easy, but his jaw is tight. His fingers tap idly against his phone, betraying the restless energy behind the smooth facade.

He’s not okay. For some reason, that makes something in you unravel.

You exhale, sinking onto your couch, legs folding beneath you. “It was fine,” you say, voice softer than you intend. “Just… not for me.”

Jungkook hums, tilting his head slightly, leaning back against his pillows. He stretches one arm over the back of his couch, watching you carefully. Slowly, he smirks, like he knew it all along. “Not for you, huh?"

Something about the way he says it—so smug, so damn certain—makes heat prickle at the back of your neck.

You huff. “Don’t start.”

“I’m not starting anything,” he muses, but his grin widens, teeth grazing his bottom lip. “Just saying. You didn’t even last a full dinner.”

You scowl. “I lasted long enough.”

Jungkook hums again, unconvinced. “Did you?”

Your fingers tighten around your phone. “Shut up.”

But Jungkook grins, shifting slightly, his gaze flickering over your face like he’s cataloging every little reaction, every little tell.

“What happened?” he presses, voice dipping lower, smooth and slow like he’s enjoying this.

You exhale sharply, tilting your head back against the couch. “Nothing.”

Jungkook raises a brow. “Nothing?”

You hesitate. “He was nice.”

Jungkook lets the words settle for a beat, then nods slowly. “Nice.”

His voice wraps around the word like it’s an insult.

You glare at him through the screen. “What?”

Jungkook shrugs. “Nothing.”

The teasing smirk is still there, but his eyes have darkened slightly, like he’s weighing his next words carefully. “Did you like him?"

You should say yes. You really should, but you don’t. Instead, you lick your lips, heart thudding against your ribs. “I don’t know.”

Jungkook laughs, soft, amused. “You don’t know?"

Your pulse spikes. “Jungkook.”

“No, I’m just—” He leans forward slightly, elbows resting on his knees, his expression so unfairly confident. “You either liked him or you didn’t.”

You exhale, fingers winding into the fabric of your couch. “He was fine.”

Jungkook clicks his tongue. “That’s not an answer.”

You glare. “I don’t owe you one.”

Jungkook lifts a brow. “You don’t.” A beat. “But you’re still on FaceTime with me instead of on the date with him.”

You freeze because he’s right, and he knows it. His smirk grows, a slow, knowing thing that makes your stomach twist.

“You’re being annoying,” you mutter, looking away.

Jungkook chuckles, stretching back against the couch again. “Am I?”

The confidence in his voice, the way he’s watching you now—lips curled at the corner, eyes laced with something knowing—it makes you feel physically ill, because he’s won this round. And worse? You are going to let him.

You shift slightly, propping your chin in your hand as you glare at him through the screen. “You’re insufferable.”

Jungkook grins, completely unfazed. “I’ve been called worse.”

You roll your eyes. “You enjoy this, don’t you?”

“Enjoy what?” he asks, feigning innocence.

You huff. “Getting under my skin.”

Jungkook exhales through his nose, shaking his head. “Nah. I just like knowing you think about me when you’re supposed to be thinking about someone else.”

Your stomach plummets. His smirk deepens, almost like he sees it. He sees the way your lips part slightly, the way you blink a little too fast, the way you don’t deny it.

Your throat goes dry. “That’s not—”

Jungkook raises a brow. “It’s not what?”

Your words die on your tongue. What are you supposed to say? That he’s wrong? That you didn’t spend your entire night comparing some perfectly nice guy to him? That your mind wasn’t full of all the ways Jungkook is easier, funnier, more everything?

You exhale sharply, shaking your head. “You are so—”

Jungkook interrupts smoothly, “Charming? Funny? Handsome?”

You groan. “Infuriating.”

Jungkook just grins, tongue peeking out to play with his lip piercing, completely unfazed. “Yet here we are. FaceTiming after your big date.”

Your jaw tightens. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t,” he muses, dragging out the words like he’s enjoying every second of this. Then, after a beat, “Maybe you even have a little crush on me.”

The thing is, you’re not even trying to make Jungkook work for it. He’s already noticed your internal struggle, already saw right through your façade. You’re trying to get him to stop saying these words so you don’t go actively insane. If you do give in to Jungkook’s advances, you’ve already acknowledged that it won’t end well for you. It will throw your life off course, disrupt the routine you’ve carefully constructed, and tear down the barriers you’ve worked so hard to maintain.

And Jungkook knows it. His smirk grows, eyes darkening just slightly, fingers tapping against his phone like he’s waiting, waiting, waiting.

You scoff, shaking your head. “You’re delusional.”

Jungkook hums, amused. “Am I?”

Yes.

No.

You don’t know. What do you know anymore?

Your stomach tightens, something unreadable clawing its way up your throat, and before you let him see it, “I’m hanging up now.”

Jungkook laughs, full and bright. “Oh, running away? Interesting.”

“Good night, Jungkook.”

His grin lingers, eyes glinting. “Sweet dreams.”

The call ends and you’re left staring at the screen, heart hammering, face warm, stomach wrecked.

Jungkook is smug, and maybe, just maybe, he has every right to be.

The next morning, the office feels too bright.

Or maybe it’s just your head, still foggy from last night, from him, from the words he left you with. “Maybe you even have a little crush on me."

You hate how easily Jungkook gets under your skin. You hate that you barely slept, that you spent way too long staring at your ceiling, replaying the conversation in your head, reading into every smirk, every teasing lilt in his voice, every time he let the words linger just a little too long. And most of all, you hate that he was right.

You spent the entire night on a date with someone else, and yet the second you got home, your first instinct was to call him. You groan, rubbing a hand over your face as you sink into your chair.

“Ohhh, you are so dead.”

You barely have time to react before Jisoo appears, all but slamming her hands down on your desk, eyes glittering with a dangerous amount of excitement.

You flinch. “Jesus—”

“Talk.” She pulls out the chair across from you, sliding into it so quickly that her coffee nearly spills. “Date details. Now.”

You hesitate.

Jisoo narrows her eyes.

You exhale, tapping your nails against the desk. “It was… fine.”

Jisoo tilts her head. “Fine?”

You nod. “Yeah. He was nice.”

Jisoo’s brows furrow. “Okay, but nice in a ‘maybe there’s potential’ way or nice in a ‘he was fine, but I was thinking about Jungkook the entire time and wanted to go home’ way?”

Your stomach drops and your face betrays you.

Jisoo sees it immediately, her eyes going wide.

“Oh my god.” She gasps, slapping her hand over her mouth before pointing at you accusingly. “It’s worse than I thought. What, did you call Jungkook after, or something?”

You freeze. Your heartbeat spikes. “...No?”

(Lies. All lies.)

Jisoo cackles. “OH MY GOD. You did.”

“I—”

“You so did.”

You huff, crossing your arms. “It’s not—”

“No, no, no.” She leans forward, her grin too knowing. “Don’t even try it.”

You glare at her. “Try what?”

Jisoo smirks. “Denying the inevitable.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re being dramatic.”

“Oh, am I?” She lifts her coffee cup, tilting her head. “Because let’s just review for a second.”

“Jisoo—”

“Point one,” she interrupts, raising a finger. “You went on a date with a perfectly nice, perfectly attractive, perfectly normal guy.”

You exhale, rubbing your temples. “Yes.”

“Point two—” Jisoo raises another finger. “You didn’t even finish said date.”

You open your mouth to interrupt, to ask how she got that part of the story already, but she holds up a hand.

“Point three—and this is the kicker—you immediately called Jungkook afterward.”

Your stomach tightens. “It wasn’t—”

“Nope.” Jisoo cuts you off, shaking her head. “You don’t get to explain your way out of this.”

You sigh, fingers curling against your desk. “Jisoo, I—”

She leans in. Her voice softens, teasing gone, eyes glinting with something too real, too honest. “You don’t want anyone else,” she murmurs. “You want him.”

Your throat goes dry. You feel the weight of her words hit you straight in the ribs, knocking something loose. You should argue.You should say something. But you don’t. Because for the first time, you can’t. Deep down, you know.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

The weekend comes faster than you expect, and with it, your friend Maya’s birthday party. She’s been your friend for years, an old roommate from your university days.

The bar is already packed when you arrive, music thrumming through the walls, neon signs glowing against the darkened windows. Inside, bodies press together on the dance floor, a sea of movement and laughter and flashing lights. The scent of spilled cocktails lingers in the air, and you can already hear Maya’s distinct laugh from across the room, high and bright, cutting through the noise.

You smile, slipping into the crowd, letting the energy swallow you whole.

This is exactly what you need. A night to drink, to dance, to shake off whatever this weight is that’s been pressing into your chest all week. To forget about the words still ringing in your head from Jisoo. To forget about the fact that you haven’t texted Jungkook all day, and that he hasn’t texted you either.

You don’t think about it. At least, you try not to. Instead, you drink, a little too much, a little too fast. The alcohol spreads warmth through your veins, buzzing beneath your skin, numbing the restlessness that’s been gnawing at you since last night.

You throw yourself into conversation, let Maya pull you into the center of it all, shots lined up on the bar, toasts to another year, cheers that spill into laughter. It’s fun. It’s supposed to be fun. But somewhere between the second and third drink, the laughter starts to feel too loud. The lights too bright. The conversations too shallow.

No matter how many times you shake it off, that feeling lingers. That feeling that something is missing. That feeling that your phone has been too quiet all day. You try not to look at it. You try not to care. Yet, you fail.

And when you finally step outside for some air, the cool night biting at your flushed cheeks, your fingers move before you can stop them.

You don’t even realize you’re calling him until it’s too late. Until the phone is already ringing. Until his voice—low, groggy, familiar—fills your ears.

"[Y/N]?"

His voice is rough with sleep, the kind of rasp that only comes from being pulled into consciousness too fast. And that’s when it hits you— you really should not have called him.

You blink, swaying slightly where you stand on the curb outside the bar, phone pressed too close to your ear. The streetlights cast everything in a warm glow, the night air cool against your flushed skin.

You should hang up. You should. But the moment he hears your little giggle, he knows.

"Where are you?" His tone changes instantly, sharp, awake, concerned.

God, that makes your stomach flutter, or maybe it’s just the drinks, but suddenly, your lips are curving into a grin, because he sounds so serious and you’re so far gone.

"Maya’s party," you mumble, giggling softly as you glance around, trying to get your bearings. “Well, outside of it. Needed air.”

Jungkook does not find this funny. “Are you drunk?"

You gasp, pressing a hand to your chest like he just accused you of a crime. “Jungkook! I would never.”

A pause. Then, “You’re wasted."

You giggle again, leaning against the cold brick wall, tilting your head up to the night sky. The stars look so prettytonight.

“I am not wasted,” you declare, even though you are absolutely wasted. “I’m… celebratory.”

Jungkook sighs, and you can practically hear him running a hand through his hair. “Who’s taking you home?”

You blink. Pause. Oh. That’s a great question.

You purse your lips, swaying slightly. “I could take a taxi…”

"Nope." His voice is final. No room for argument.

You hum, eyes fluttering closed for a second. “Okay… so, come get me?”

Silence. A beat too long, too heavy, stretching between you.

Then, his voice drops, steady, certain. “I’m on my way."

You don’t even have time to respond before the call ends, the line going dead in your hand.

And maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s the way your heart skips, but suddenly, you feel warm all over.

Jungkook is coming. For you.

You frown at your phone. “So rude.”

The night air is crisp against your skin, but you barely feel it. There’s a warmth curling in your chest, spreading through your limbs, a giddy kind of lightness that has nothing to do with the alcohol and everything to do with him.

You shift on your feet, biting back a smile, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your dress. Your heart jumps, ridiculous and eager, a quiet thrill rushing through you at the thought of seeing him—at the thought that he’s coming for you. That despite everything, despite the late hour, despite how much of a mess you probably sound over the phone, he’s still choosing to show up.

The thought makes something in your stomach tighten, something warm and buzzing, something that feels dangerously close to happiness.

A hand lands on your shoulder, and you turn to find Maya giving you a look. “Who were you talking to?”

You smile. “Jungkook.”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “Jeon Jungkook? That race car driver you’re seeing?”

You giggle, swaying a little. “Yup. He’s coming to get me. Like a knight.” You pause, tilting your head. “But, like, a tattooed knight. A knight with a lip piercing. A knight who’s really, really hot.”

Maya laughs. “Okay, yeah, you’re definitely drunk.”

You pout. “Nooo. I’m fine. I just—” You stop, eyes widening. “Oh my god.”

Maya panics. “What?”

You grab her arm. “Do I look okay?”

She stares at you. “You look drunk.”

You groan. “Ugh, he’s gonna see me like this! This is a disaster.”

You hold onto her shoulders dramatically, shaking her. Maya smirks. “Sounds like someone wants to impress him.”

You narrow your eyes. “That’s not what this is.”

She grins. “Sure, babe.”

Headlights sweep across the pavement, a sleek black car pulling up to the curb. Your heart jumps. You recognize that car anyway. It pulls up to the curb, tires slowing against the pavement, and your breath catches as you see him.

Jungkook.

Your pulse stumbles, fingers tightening against your sides. He hasn’t even stepped out yet, hasn’t even looked at you, but it doesn’t matter, because suddenly, everything feels lighter, easier, safer.

Jungkook barely has time to put the car in park before you’re stumbling forward, waving bye to Maya who just giggles at your walk.

His hand is on you instantly, firm against your waist, steadying you like its second nature. His grip is solid, warm even through the fabric of your dress, fingers pressing into your skin just enough to ground you.

You blink up at him, and god, you should not be this excited to see him.

His brows are drawn together, mouth slightly parted as his eyes flicker over your face, scanning, assessing. “How much did you drink?”

You giggle. “Rude.”

Jungkook exhales through his nose, unimpressed, but his fingers don’t leave your waist. “Seriously.”

You tilt your head, your balance shifting slightly—not enough to fall, but enough that his grip on you tightens. That makes you even giddier. “Enough to be very, very happy to see you.”

Jungkook sighs, running his free hand through his hair before gently maneuvering you toward the car. “Get in, sweetheart.”

And you do. Barely. The moment you sink into the seat, the moment the door closes and you’re surrounded by the scent of him—clean linen, something dark and musky beneath it—you melt into the leather, warmth curling low in your stomach. Then he slides into the driver’s seat, and suddenly, he’s so close.

His jaw clenches as he starts the car, one hand on the wheel, the other running over his face in frustration. But you? You’re just watching him, eyes tracing the slope of his nose, the sharp cut of his jawline, the way the sleeve of his hoodie pushes up just enough to reveal the inked lines of his forearm.

He’s so pretty.

Your fingers twitch in your lap, your lips curving before you can stop them. “You’re so pretty, Jungkookie.”

Jungkook chokes on absolutely nothing. His head turns toward you so fast you almost laugh. His expression is a mix of amusement and disbelief. “Jesus Christ.”

You beam at him, lifting your knees to the seat, turning your whole body toward him like you can’t help it. Maybe you can’t. “You are.”

His grip on the wheel tightens, jaw locking as his eyes flick forward again. “You’re drunk.”

You hum, tilting your head. “So?”

“So,” he mutters, shifting into drive. “I’m ignoring you.”

That makes you laugh, throwing your head back against the seat. “No, you’re not.”

Jungkook sighs, rolling his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitches, and you see it. He’s so easy to read, even when he pretends not to be. That makes you bold.

So you lean in, resting your chin on your knuckles, watching him with sleepy, playful eyes. “You like it when I compliment you, don’t you?”

Jungkook scoffs, but his ears are turning red. “Go to sleep.”

“Are you blushing?”

“God, I should’ve let you take a taxi.”

You grin, nudging his arm slightly with your fingers. His skin is so warm, his muscles tense under your touch. “I like that you came.”

He doesn’t respond right away. His Adam’s apple bobs, his fingers twitch against the wheel. When he speaks, his voice is a little rougher. “Yeah?”

You hum. “You always come when I call.”

Jungkook’s knuckles turn white on the wheel.

He glances at you, just for a second, something too much, too close, too heavy.

And then, almost like he’s talking to himself, “Yeah,” he murmurs. “I do.”

You don’t know why, but that makes your heart ache.

The rest of the ride is quieter, but the air between you is charged, humming with something unspoken.

And you? You can’t stop staring at him. The warmth in your chest isn’t from the alcohol anymore. That realization is terrifying, you don’t know why, but it does something to you.

Your pulse flutters beneath your skin, your fingers curling against your lap before slowly, without thinking, you reach out again.

It’s not you. You’re not the kind of person who does this. You don’t touch people so easily, so recklessly. You don’t let yourself be this bold, this transparent. But tonight, you can’t help it.

Your hand finds his forearm first, fingers grazing the warm skin exposed beneath the pushed-up sleeve of his hoodie.

Jungkook stiffens.

His fingers tighten around the steering wheel, his breath catching so subtly you almost don’t notice. Almost. But you do, and it only makes you bolder.

Your fingers trace over the ink on his skin, the lines of his tattoos. The warmth of him seeps into your palm, and for some reason, it makes your stomach flip.

"You’re so warm," you mumble, mostly to yourself.

Jungkook lets out a slow exhale. "You need to sit properly."

You shake your head, still tracing patterns against his skin, drunk on the feel of him beneath your fingertips. "Don’t wanna."

He makes a sound in the back of his throat, something low, something restrained. "You’re gonna regret this tomorrow."

You grin, looking up at him with something dangerously close to mischief. "Are you saying I don’t usually touch you?"

Jungkook laughs, but it’s breathless, like he can’t quite believe you right now. "You never touch me."

He’s right.

But you don’t say that.

Instead, your fingers trail higher, up the curve of his forearm, feeling the shift of his muscles beneath his skin. Your body feels hot all over.

You let your fingers brush against his neck.

Jungkook sucks in a sharp breath. Your fingertips graze the sensitive skin just below his jaw, featherlight, hesitant but curious. He swallows deeply beneath your touch, and your stomach tightens because he lets you do it.

For a second, he really lets you, lets himself indulge into what it would feel like to be desired by you.

Then, breaking the trance, his hand snaps up, catching your wrist. His grip isn’t rough, but it’s firm, steady, grounding you in a way that makes your head spin for an entirely different reason.

"[Y/N]..” he warns, voice low, barely above a whisper.

You blink up at him, feeling reckless, feeling brave, feeling entirely not yourself.

"Jungkook," you whisper back.

His fingers tighten just slightly around your wrist, his jaw clenching, his eyes flickering between yours like he’s searching for something.

His tongue flicks out, wetting his lips, grazing against the silver of his piercing. Your stomach flips. You can’t stop staring.You can’t stop wanting.

But before you can do anything else, before you can ruin yourself completely, Jungkook sighs. And then, in a voice that is too soft, too knowing, too unfairly patient, “You need to sleep it off, sweetheart."

And just like that, you’re ruined anyway.

The hum of the car engine is steady beneath you, lulling you into something soft, something weightless. The warmth of the interior, the rhythmic motion of the road, the faint scent of Jungkook’s cologne lingering in the air—it all pulls you under, wrapping around you like a cocoon.

You don’t mean to fall asleep. But you do. And for the first time in a long time, sleep is easy. It’s peaceful. Quiet. No racing thoughts. No overthinking. No him lingering too close in your mind. Just warmth.

When you finally do wake up, the world is still.

The engine is off, the headlights casting soft shadows against the pavement outside your apartment. The air between you feels heavier, quieter, like neither of you are sure what comes next.

You shift slightly, stretching in your seat, blinking against the dim glow of the streetlights. Your gaze drifts to Jungkook, who’s sitting back against the headrest, one hand still on the steering wheel, the other draped lazily over the gear shift.

He’s watching you. Not in a way that makes you feel self-conscious, not in a way that feels expectant, not in a stalker-y way. Just… watching, like maybe he’s been doing it for a while.

"You’re really nice," you murmur, your voice still heavy with sleep, with warmth.

Jungkook’s lips twitch. "Yeah?"

You hum, nodding slightly, your fingers toying with the hem of your dress, mind still hazy. "You always take care of me."

Something flickers in his eyes. Something that makes the air between you feel too thick.

He doesn’t say anything.

Suddenly, you don’t want to think. You don’t want to overanalyze, don’t want to let hesitation sink its claws into you before you can act.

So you don’t. You just move.

Leaning in before you can stop yourself, drawn in by the warmth of him, the steady weight of his presence. Your breath fans against his lips. His sharp inhale cuts through the quiet. You can feel it—the shift in him. The way his fingers tighten around the steering wheel, the way his jaw clenches, the way his breath falters, uneven, as your faces linger too close, as your pulse hammers beneath your skin.

And for a second, just for a second, you think he’s going to close the distance.

But then, "Not like this."

His voice is low, rough around the edges, like it’s taking everything in him to pull away.

You blink, your chest rising and falling too fast, your body still too warm, your lips still too close. “Why?" It’s barely a whisper, barely a sound. Just breath and longing and confusion wrapped into one.

Jungkook exhales, his gaze flickering down to your lips for a fraction of a second before meeting your eyes again. “Because I want you sober when you finally kiss me."

Damn it, you feel that everywhere. Like a live wire against your skin. Like an ache settling deep in your bones. Like something dangerous, something fragile, something terrifyingly real.

You huff, shoulders slumping as the warmth of his words lingers in the tight space between you.

The weight of it settles deep in your chest, leaving you fluttery, restless, and entirely unsatisfied.

“That’s stupid,” you grumble, voice petulant as you sink further into the passenger seat.

Jungkook sighs, rubbing a hand over his face before shifting to unbuckle your seatbelt. “It’s not stupid.”

You pout, arms crossing over your chest. “It is stupid. Because I do wanna kiss you.”

His hand freezes. For a moment, you think he’s going to respond, maybe tease you, maybe say something to make this all feel less real, less loaded, less dangerous, but instead, Jungkook exhales, eyes flickering to yours, something unbearably soft in his gaze.

“You will,” he murmurs. “I promise.”

And for some reason, that makes your stomach twist even more.

Before you can dwell on it—or before you can embarrass yourself any further—Jungkook is stepping out of the car, rounding the hood, and opening your door.

You barely have a second to process what’s happening before his hands are on you, warm and gentle, lifting you effortlessly out of your seat.

You squeak, instinctively clutching his hoodie, fingers curling into the fabric. “Jungkook!”

He barely reacts, adjusting you against his chest like you weigh nothing. “You’re not walking up those stairs by yourself.”

You scowl, burying your face in his shoulder. “I could.”

He snorts. “Yeah, sure. After tripping over air four times tonight? Not a chance.”

You mumble something about him being dramatic, but you don’t fight him. Mostly because you don’t want to. Because the way his arms feel around you, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your cheek, the warmth radiating off of him, it all makes your body feel soft, pliant, safe.

Your apartment door unlocks with a soft beep, and before you know it, Jungkook is setting you down inside, his hands lingering at your waist for just a second longer than necessary before pulling away.

You whine at the loss of warmth. “You’re so mean.”

Jungkook sighs, toeing off his sneakers before nudging you toward the bathroom. “Come on. Skincare time.”

Your brows furrow as you blink up at him. “You know my skincare routine?”

Jungkook gives you a flat look. “Do you know how many times I’ve seen you do it? You talk through every step like you’re running a live tutorial.”

You gasp, offended. “It’s educational.”

He laughs, shaking his head. “Yeah, yeah. Sit.”

And somehow, he actually does it for you. His hands are careful as he applies each product, thumbs smoothing cream into your skin with a level of patience and concentration that makes your stomach flip. His brows are furrowed slightly, his bottom lip caught between his teeth, the sleeves of his hoodie pushed up to his elbows as he massages your face with way too much care for someone who pretends to be this cool all the time.

You stare at him, heart full, warmth buzzing beneath your skin.

When he finishes, he wipes his hands on a nearby towel, tilting his head at you. “Alright. Bed.”

You blink up at him and pout.

Jungkook’s eyes narrow instantly. “No.”

Your bottom lip wobbles dramatically. “You don’t even know what I was gonna say.”

“I do,” he deadpans. “And the answer is no.”

You sway toward him, fingers curling around the sleeve of his hoodie. “Stay.”

Jungkook sighs, long and heavy, rubbing his temple. “[Y/N]...”

You blink at him, playing it up, all wide eyes and softness. “Please?”

He groans, running a hand through his hair. “You’re not even gonna remember this in the morning.”

You nod too eagerly, holding onto him too tightly. “But I will remember sleeping alone and being so sad about it.”

Jungkook laughs under his breath, shaking his head, already giving in.

"Fine," he mutters, rolling his shoulders like he’s pretending this is a chore. "But I’m sleeping on the couch."

You beam. “Good enough."

And as you finally crawl into bed in the pajamas he picked out for you, warmth wrapping around you, Jungkook’s presence lingering in your apartment, you sleep. Peacefully and safely.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

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