#from multiple people and each one is a different group they mention

[donutdrawsthings]

Ok based on some messages I've been receiving, I feel like I have to say something!

[illum1z]

snow cream

Roommate!Yunho x F!Reader

summary: Six months of living under the same roof, and you barely knew the guy. You both always came and went, to and from your jobs and school, only ever interacting in the kitchen or the living room late at night when you wanted a glass of water or he wanted to watch TV. But when winter rolls around and the snowstorms get heavy, maybe somehow you could warm up to each other…

tags: snowed in, forced proximity(?), attempt at humor, fluff, mutual pining, hand kink (duh), soft mdom, petnames (baby, angel face, pretty girl, slut etc.), Yu LOVES touching you, handjob, nipple sucking, fingering, tension, unprotected sex (BOOOOO), lotus positon, he talks alot, multiple orgasms, aftercare, NOT PROOFREAD

wc: 7.2k

notes: sort of based around a nsfw audio I listened to a couple years ago LMAO.

tracklist: bad liar, poison, intro: singularity

“Reports are flowing in from the NWS about upcoming snowstorms, which are expected to reach record levels; the surrounding area is expecting up to 6 inches. Officials are closing roads and the district schools are shutting down until-”

“Just my luck, huh?” You switched off your phone and rested your head against your steering wheel with an exasperated sigh. You had seen the beginning of the snowfall that week, just light flakes here and there, but they weren't sticking.

But of course mother nature had to give a big fuck you and mess with your plans that weekend with 6 inches of snow. Roads were closing, and so were the stores, so you needed to be in and out before the snowstorm picked up.

You rubbed your temples before switching your car off, getting out, and walking into the grocery store with your original plan in mind.

You had planned to pick up some ingredients for some appetizers you were going to bring to one of your friends' birthdays, but you had frowned when they texted your group chat, saying the party had been cancelled because of snowfall.

That's what led you to the news, deflating your excitement. Instead of being here for groceries, you were here to stock up on supplies. And so was everybody else. The store was packed with people. Mothers are rushing and snatching boxes of cereal off the shelf. Dads are stocking up on batteries and jugs of water. The poor employees were at war with the panicking public. Quickly as you could, you grabbed a cart and picked up some essentials. Batteries. Toilet paper. Bottled water. Some nonperishables. While walking past the home section, you noticed a couple of displays where they were selling large fleece blankets.

You eyed them for a second, debating if you should get one.

Maybe two.

One for you, one for your roommate. Jeong Yunho. 

You had met him on Craigslist whilst looking for roommate listings. You decided community college was best for your budget years ago, but you needed to find somewhere else to live. Soon. Living with your parents is not for the weak.

You spent hours on different websites, desperate to find somewhere close and affordable. Maybe also a roommate who has a low chance of murdering you in your sleep.

You stumbled across the listing one night, hope slowly dwindling at the awful market.

2 bedrooms. 2 baths. 600 per month. Cats are welcome. Email for more information.

Immediately, you jumped on it because there was no way you would be able to find anything cheaper than this, unfortunately. You emailed him all your information. About your job and schedule, and made sure to mention that you would like to bring your cat, Patches. About a week later, you had driven to the house to look around and discuss final plans and agreements. Along with you, you brought your cat so she could become accustomed to the new living space.

The house was cute and quaint, a little grey and white bungalow with a few bushes on either side of the steps that led up to the black door. A decent-sized front yard, neat and green, with a driveway with just enough space for two cars. Perfect. 

When you met the person who posted the listing, you had pulled up to the house, parking your car behind another one already in the driveway. He was on the porch, in the process of carrying some bags inside the house.. When he saw you, he waved for you to follow him inside. He showed you to your room, talked about rent and policies. You both established some privacy rules, and he was petting your cat the entire time. He seemed to take a liking to her immediately. Yunho had you sign some things, and then that was it. Simple, fast, and easy. A few days later, you had moved your stuff in, and from then on, you and Yunho barely interacted.

He said that he’s usually at one of his friends' houses, at work or class, or in his room playing games. This was perfect for you; you enjoyed your privacy, and if you were being honest, you were nervous around Yunho.

He had this boyish charm to him that made your heart flutter; he was tall and spoke to you gently, as if he were too loud, he might scare you. He had dark brown hair that parted in the middle, with bangs that sometimes covered his eyes. And you couldn’t help but feel ashamed that your gaze always drifted to his hands whenever you saw him. Large and slender, the veins prominent like a roadmap.

 He always made sure that you knew where he was going when he went somewhere with a text like “At friends,” or “Out drinking.”

Another thing you had noticed while living with him was that it was like he stole your cat from you. IF you couldn't find your cat anywhere, it was safe to assume she was in Yunho's room. She followed him around the apartment all the time, whenever he sat on the couch to watch TV, she was in his lap. Whenever he was in the kitchen cooking, she was perched on the counter watching intently.

One day, you came home and saw Yunho on the couch with her. Usually, she’d get up and greet you by rubbing her face against your legs. Instead, she stayed put, gave you a curt meow, and that was it.

You walked by the back of the couch and narrowed your eyes at her, mouthing the words “traitor” before retreating to your room.  

You ran your hand over the navy blue fleece blanket that was folded next to a similar white one. Making up your mind, you dropped the blue blanket in your cart as well as the white one. After some more shopping, you checked out and began your drive home, the snow beginning to fall again. 

Your mind wandered back to your roommate again. You're pretty sure he was at a friend's house right now, you just hoped he would make it home safe. Driving home through the snow was certainly a feat. Everyone on the road opted to go under the speed limit in hopes they wouldn't go sliding at a sharp turn. A blanket of white began to accumulate on the ground, and it was growing increasingly difficult to see through the snow swirling in the air.

After a grueling and stressful journey, you returned to the house safely. The yard was a pure, sparkling white, untouched like a fresh, clean blanket. You gathered your bags and stepped out of the car, trudging through the snow as it only continued to climb higher and higher. As you suspected, Yunho’s car wasn’t in the driveway.

You made it inside, the warmth of the heater immediately making you shed your jacket as you dropped the bags on the table. As soon as you did, your phone buzzed. You pulled it out to see a text from Yunho.

“Be home later.” Simple and quick. You thought for a moment whether you should text back. Your fingers began typing, and then you hit send.

“Be safe.” A second later, it buzzed again.

“Will do.”

You felt stupid for the way your heart clenched a little. You could count on three hands how many conversations you’ve had with him that lasted longer than a minute. Words are always fleeting between you two, always too busy for anything more than a good morning or an update on bills. But Yunho always responded to your texts with earnestness, replying fast and confidently. It was never anything deep, but whenever you asked what he wanted for dinner, he always responded with whatever it was he wanted, with a smiley face and a thank you.

He never really engaged in any more conversation than that, but for some reason, you could tell her cared more than he let on.

You put away all the things you bought, deciding to place the blanket you bought for Yunho on the couch so he’d see it when he got home. You cleaned up a little, because if you’re going to be snowed in, at least let the place be neat.

After some light cleaning, you had a shower and decided that for tonight’s dinner, you’d make some chili, so that way you would have leftovers for the upcoming days. Tonight was usually Yunho’s night for meals, but you were feeling froggy.

Connecting your speaker to your phone, you cleaned up your area and put on some music, getting ready to make dinner. You were in your zone, chopping tomatoes and browning the beef. The music flowed from your speaker, and the house was filled with a cozy feeling. You were an avid big light hater, so a few lamps and candles here and there set a soothing ambient lighting. The sun was setting, and the snow was picking up, the wind howling outside.

After another hour or so, dinner was done, and Yunho still wasn’t home. It was 8 pm. He’s usually out past 11, but because of the storm, you had assumed he’d be back earlier. You decided to shoot him a test, for your own mental fortitude. The snow had calmed, gentle snowfall dusting your windows.

“Are you on your way home? I made chili.” Send.

You waited a minute or two. No response. You rested your elbows on the kitchen island, waiting for his reply.

The three bouncing dots appeared at the bottom of your messages, and he was typing.

It stopped for a second, then started up again.

“Can you come outside?” Your eyebrows raised in surprise at such a weird question. You thought he was with his friends. He was typing again.

“Down the street.”

“Stuck in the snow.”

“Please.” 

You were so confused. Quickly, you slipped on your coat and your shoes by the door. You slipped your phone in your pocket and opened your front door. The cold hit your face like a mallet, and immediately your nose started to burn. But it was beautiful outside. Fresh snow everywhere. It was dark outside well into the night, but the snow was so white it was like it provided a little glow of its own. Snowflakes flurried from the sky, landing all over your clothes. You stepped into the front yard, and half of your calf sank completely beneath the surface of the fluff.

You, albeit with some trouble, waded through your front yard and stepped out onto the icy street nearly losing your footing and busting your ass. The neighborhood was silent, not a soul in sight, the end of the street being swallowed in black emptiness. 

But on the other end of the street, a lone car pulled off to the curb, headlights on as the snow swirled around the warm beams of light in a dancing flurry.

Beside it was your roommate, waving at you, bundled in a coat and scarf, grey sweatpants, and a desperate look on his face.

You started to walk towards him, doing your best not to slip and fall. “What the hell is going on?” You exclaim as you walk towards him. His tires were buried in the snow, and his windshield wipers were swaying steadily, clearing the flakes off the glass.

When you were about 6 steps away from reaching him, you began to lose your footing, the ice seeming slicker than before.

“Careful-careful-careful!” Yunho reached his hands forward and took a step in an attempt to catch you, but it was too late. 

“Shit!” your feet slipped from underneath you and after a couple slips and slides fighting to stay up, you ultimately fell directly on your ass, a sharp pain shooting up your tailbone.

You groaned, hand reaching back and rubbing your lower back. Immediately, the wet ice soaked your pants uncomfortably, and you already knew you’d wake up tomorrow with a nasty bruise.

Silence fell as you sat in defeat and mulled your pain, but Yunho was oddly quiet. You raised your eyes to look at him. He had one hand over his mouth. His eyebrows were raised in shock, and his eyes slowly narrowed as he took you in.

“Laugh. I dare you.” You glared at him, wincing at the sharp pain crawling up your tailbone.

“Jeong Yunho, you are a child.” You rolled your eyes as he busted out into a fit of laughter, one hand on his car while the other stayed on his mouth. You turned and got ready to get up so you could hit him.

“N-No wait stop!” he shouted between fits of giggles, his arms coming down and trying to pull you up by your arms, while simultaneously avoiding your violent hands.

“I’m sorry, let me just- hold on- stop trying to hit me (Name)! I'm trying to help you.”

“Well then, stop laughing at me!” His own feet were starting to lose friction on this ice as he felt his body sway as he grabbed you.

“If you don’t stop moving, you’re gonna take us both down!” Yunho tried to manhandle you back up, but unfortunately he lost it and tumbled down right next to you, accidentally yanking you onto your back as he landed on his ass.

“Goddamnit...” Yunho laid back in the snow, seemingly giving up on trying to get either one of you on your feet. You giggled behind your hand as you looked at him, his hair all messy and dusted with snowflakes.

He glanced at you and sighed. “Go ahead. It's only fair.” You took that opportunity to laugh in his face, him lightening up and joining you.

When you both calmed down, you looked behind him at his car. “So what happened, you just got lodged in the snow?”

“Wow, real astute (Name). Did I also mention that it’s snowing outside? How crazy is that?” You moved to smack his shoulder at his smart alecness, but he dodged.

“Stop trying to hit me, and help me move my car.” Bewildered, you watch as he stumbled and tried to stand up, feet slipping here and there as he finally stood upright. Like a baby penguin

“Help you push the car?” You snorted and tried to stand up yourself grunting. “Yeah, that's like not happening. Especially on this ice. You’re just going to have to leave it here until some of the snow melts.” Yunho looked at you like you had just told him something outrageous.

“Are you serious?” He glared at you, noticing how you made no move to come over and start pushing the car. “Insane actually…” he mumbled to himself, rubbing the back of his neck in frustration as he watched the snow fall from the night sky.

“Listen, I made dinner tonight. It's chili. Come home for now, it's cold, and the snow will pick back up again soon. Come inside, and we can worry about this later.” Yunho stopped and seemed to think to himself for a second, before his eyes flicked over to yours.

He looked at you with a surprising gentleness, roving over your face before landing on your lips for a fraction of a second, so fast you didn’t catch it.

“Alright.” He threw his hands up in defeat. “Fine, let's go inside. It's okay. We can worry about it later.”

“That's what I said,” you chirped as you turned your back, beginning the slippery journey back to the house.

“I know that's what you said. I was just rephrasing.” Yunho followed behind, shuffling his feet on the ice so he wouldn’t have to pick them up and risk stepping wrong. It was silent on the way back, both of you too focused on not falling again.

You shed your shoes and coat by the door, turning to Yunho and pointing to the rug on the porch.

“Shoes.” You stated. Yunho looked down and removed his shoes, setting them next to yours.

Satisfied you opened the door, you hung your coat on the hanger in the foyer. “I just cleaned the house.” You mumbled to yourself, as if to affirm the reason you made him leave his snow-filled shoes outside.

Yunho followed behind, hanging his own coat and scarf on the rack. You sighed and fell on the couch, groaning in relief at the warmth that surrounded you.

“There’s chili in the kitchen if you want some.” You closed your eyes, basking in the warmth. The pine candle you lit made the house smell so comforting, taking in a deep breath, you heard Yunho’s breath hitch. When you realized he hadn't said anything yet, you peeked open an eye, only to catch him looking away from you.

His arms came up, smoothly directing his gaze down at his hands, fidgeting and playing with his fingers like he was bored.

He was almost caught, your shirt had ridden up when you laid on the couch, exposing your belly and the hem stopping right where your under boob began. Yunho’s brain nearly short-circuited at the sight, wondering what it would feel like to lie to you on his bed and drag his big hands up and down your waist, squeezing and kneading and feeling you…

He blinked, realizing he was much too far in his fantasy, expecting you to be looking at him like he was a pervert. Instead, he caught your eyes glued to his hands like they were the most interesting thing in the world. You blinked once. Twice. Before turning round and snatching up the remote, switching the TV on.

“Like I said, dinner’s in the kitchen. Help yourself.” Quickly gaining your composure like you weren't imagining his fingers inside of you, you switched to a cooking channel and sat on the couch, full attention on the screen.

“What's this?” Yunho tapped the back of the couch. “A blanket?” You didn’t look back at him, too embarrassed to show your face.

“Oh yeah, when I was at the store, I saw they were selling soft blankets, so I got you one.” You shrugged it off. When he didn’t respond, you assumed that he just went to the kitchen to eat.

A few more beats of silence, and you thought you were in the clear from your way too hot roommate, when his gentle, rich voice hit your ears like a truck, and you felt your core clench hard.

“Thank you (Name), you’re such a sweetheart. Thanks for always thinking of me.” 

Like someone just shot you, you whipped your head around to see Yunho holding the blanket in his hands, towering over you, standing behind the couch. His fingers dipping into the soft, navy blue waves of fleece, his lips upturned in a soft smile, and his eyes filled with nothing but adoration.

He was going to kill you. His hair fell in front of his eyes as his hands slowly caressed the blanket he held, his posture was relaxed as his eyes remained fixed on you, and you swear you saw them flick to your lips for a second. 

Your heart stopped and fell to your ass, immediately nervousness took over your body and you felt like a hot mess.

 After a few seconds of silence, Yunho’s smile fell, and his eyebrows knitted, like he was frustrated. He leaned his head back and shoved the blanket in his face, groaning into it.

“Don't… look at me like that.” Yunho’s muffled voice spilled from behind the blanket in his face, and you went rigid. How were you looking at him?

“Well, I don't look at me like that either!” You exclaimed, your voice shaking slightly. Yunho moved the blanket from his face, butting on the back of the couch. His eyes locked with yours again. Every time you looked away, he stepped a little closer, until he was sitting next to you.

“Hey, uh. Back up maybe?” You chided, trying to hide how much of a mess he was able to make of you just by looking at you.

“No.” Yunho challenged, looking at you intently. “Stop looking away and look at me.” So you did, you gazed into his eyes and immediately felt weak. His pupils were BLOWN. His tongue poked the inside of his cheek, eyebrows cinched as he stared at you like he was trying to pin you to your spot.

He wasn’t saying anything, but he didn’t look like he was thinking either. He was just staring. You were starting to feel put on the spot, and you were about to make an excuse to go use the bathroom. 

“You’re so fucking pretty,” Yunho whispered. You nearly choked on your spit, but his hand lifted and dragged his fingertips down the bridge of your nose with feather-light gentleness, along your eyebrow, along your jawline. Like he was mapping out your face.

“Yunho…” You whispered, afraid that if you spoke too loudly, it could shatter the atmosphere. The air was thick, and the wind outside howled as the snow picked up again. The house almost seemed too hot now, and frankly, a snowball to the face wouldn’t be so bad right now. Yunho gnawed on his bottom lip.

“How come you never talk to me?” You suddenly blurted it out, instantly regretting it when it slipped out of your mouth. Yunho, obviously taken aback by your question, paused his touches on your face. He let his hand fall onto his lap and quickly grabbed his hand again, encasing it between your own two.

“What I meant is! Like, why don’t we take or hang out more often? I mean that I would like to, not that you… I'm sorry, I don't know what I'm talking about.” Yunho watched as you stumbled over your words, a smile crossing his face again as he chuckled at your franticness.

“(Name), (Name), stop.” The hand he held in your grasp, gently pulled from you, now holding your wrist. Yunho lowered his head and looked at your hand. Keeping his head down, his eyes lifted to meet yours as his thumb pressed onto the pulse point on the inside of your wrist. His other hand came up to your face, cradling your jaw softly.

Your chest felt like it was going to explode, overwhelmed with how Yunho was so close to you, how he was touching you, how he was looking at you.

“You know, I feel bad. You just thought of me while out shopping and got me a gift, but I don’t have anything for you.” Yunho frowned, dropping his gaze back down to your hand, his fingers tracing lightly up the inside of your arm, drawing circles and stars into your skin.

You shrugged gently, trying to brush it off so you didn't seem like you were expecting something back, because truly you weren’t. You just wanted to get him something.

“It’s nothing, Yu, you don’t have to -“ 

“No, it’s not nothing! Don’t say that.” Yunho squeezed your wrist softly, bringing your arm up and pressing whispers of kisses from your pulse point up your arm, and back down again as he spoke. 

“You’re always so thoughtful. Always checking up on me, making amazing meals for us, looking so pretty all the time.” You swallowed, your face quickly heating up at the praise, and the strain in his voice as he spoke. You struggled to find words to reply to him. You never realized how much he appreciated what you do, and frankly, you didn’t realize how much you did for him. 

“I wanna give you something too.” His eyes flicked up to yours, searching for consent in your eyes. You didn’t say anything. Then you whispered a question, the doubt in your mind creeping into your words.

“Yunho… you don’t have to give me anything-” Before you could continue, he pressed a finger to your lips to stop you from talking.

“Buh buh buh. Stop. This isn’t for you. Well, it is for you, but it's for me too. I want to. I want to take care of you like you take care of me, (Name).” Yunho’s hand landed on your upper thigh, gently kneading it like he was trying to ease the tension, keeping his eyes on yours.

“Is that okay?” The slow, gentle rub on your thigh was comforting, however, not calming in the least. The tendons in his hands flexed as he stroked his hand about the expanse of your leg. He stopped when your thigh tensed, resuming when you opened your mouth to speak.

“Yes.” barely there, in a whisper.

“Words, angel, use them please.” Yunho inched closer to you on the couch, his other hand coming around to cup the back of your neck, bringing your face closer to his, his nose just barely brushing against yours.

His smell enveloped you, his bangs tickled your forehead as his staggering breath fanned against your lips. 

“Yes.” You spoke louder, pressing a soft kiss against his lips, testing the waters. “Please.” You expected Yunho to chase your lips, but instead, he just smiled and leaned back.

“I knew it.” Your heart stopped. What's he doing? 

“All this time since you moved in, I thought maybe I was a pervert.” He lifted his hand and gently pushed against your chest, urging you to lie on your back on the couch, your head on the armrest. He slowly crawled over on top of your body, one leg slotted between your thighs with his knee just barely brushing your core, his hands pressing against the couch by the sides of your head. He brought his face down to yours, space nonexistent between you two as his calm breaths mingled with your nervous ones.

His eyes locked on yours, shamelessly flicking to your lips every few seconds. “You’re always looking at my hands, baby. Do you like them?”

Your breath hitched, and embarrassment crept up your spine. Yeah, he had noticed. This wasn't a new fascination of yours. You had always been drawn to hands in a way, but his specifically. The long, nimble fingers, the prominent veins, and the sheer size of his palm. 

Teasingly, he brought his hand up to your face, twisting his wrist to give you a good view. Slowly, he moved his hand down against your throat, his fingertips brushing against the side of your neck softly, up and down, trailing along your collarbones and between your breasts, down until they reached the hem of your shirt.

You watched with bated breath as he teased the hem of your shirt, rubbing it between his fingers, slightly lifting it and letting it fall back down.

“Want me to take it off for you? Undressing you like a gift, yeah?” A quiet whimper slipped from the back of your throat. His hand slipped under your shirt, flattening his large, warm palm against your stomach and caressing your skin gently.

Agonizingly slow, he dragged his hand up, taking his time mapping out your body, his other hand quietly lifting to cup the back of your neck again, pulling your head up to press your forehead against his. His eyes never left you as you felt his calloused fingertips brush against the underside of your breast, tracing light patterns around your areolas so softly it almost tickled. Your stomach clenched at the touch, letting out a breath you didn't even know you were holding.

“You're so soft, sweetheart. I’ve wanted to touch you for so long. Can’t believe you're letting me..” His large hand cupped your breast, softly kneading the mound.

His fingers twilled the hair on the nape of your neck, occasionally squeezing the back of your neck reassuringly, like he wanted you to know that he had you. He's gonna take care of you.

“Can you whine for me, honey? I love your voice.” You didn't need to hear that, as he slipped his hand from under your shirt, lifting the hem until it sat under your chin.

“Arms up.” Breaking from your stupor, you lifted your arms as he dragged your shirt over your head, tossing it somewhere in the dim living room. His eyes moved down and locked on your exposed breasts, your nipples hardening in response to the cold.

“There they are. So pretty.” Without warning, his lips crashed with yours, swallowing your whimpers while his hand found your breast again. Messy and slow, his tongue coaxing your lips open for him and slipping into your mouth. He moaned deep into you, his hand massaging your breast roughly as he lost himself in your mouth.

Every buck of his head he tried to push himself closer into you, like he was trying to melt into you, his lips relentless against you, sucking your plush bottom lip and nipping at your tongue teasingly.

Pulling away was hard for him; it almost hurt. He gave himself a moment to take you in. Swollen lips, blown pupils, and frizzy hair. A mess all for him.

His kisses trailed from the back of your ear down your neck and landed around your breasts. Kissing and soothingly running his tongue around them before latching onto your nipple. You closed your eyes and leaned your head back, focused on the feeling of his warm mouth enveloping your nipple.

Taking this opportunity, his other hand moved from behind your neck and landed on the waistband of your pants, undoing the buttons before slipping his hand past the waistband of your underwear.

Your eyes shot open again at the feeling of his finger tracing a slow deliberate line up your slit, gathering your wetness. You craned your neck to the side, draping your arm over your mouth and avoiding his hot gaze. Yunho clicked his tongue and with surprising ease let his finger press against your opening, sliding perfectly inside of you, his fingertip brushing against your G-spot softly.

“I’m gonna need you to look at me, baby, I can’t give you what you need if you aren't looking at me.” Your eyebrows furrowed, and you bit your bottom lip, ripping your arm away from your eyes and slowly focusing your eyes on him. And you almost wished you hadn’t.

His chest rose and fell in shallow breaths, pupils blown and hair tousled all around his flushed face. He gnawed on the inside of his cheek, his hand disappearing between your legs, his cheek pressed up against your breast, his tongue lolling against it, tracing lazy patterns around your areola. His eyes took you in, like you were the most stunning thing he had laid eyes on, which was the truth.

His eyelids fluted before his lips wrapped around your nipple again, kissing, licking and sucking as he started dragging his finger inside of you, curling it just right in that way that made your breathing hitch and your eyes roll.

“Yu-, fuck…” He nipped at your nipple, immediately soothing it with his tongue and pulling off of you with a slick pop.

“I’m trying so hard to be respectful…” He ground out the words like talking hurt his throat. You were finding it hard to focus with the attention he was giving your body, perfectly pressing your buttons and winding you up like a toy. Easily slipping another finger inside your cunt, you let a groan out deep from your chest, turning him on impossibly more.

“But baby, fuck you’re making this so hard for me…” He let his mouth wrap around your other nipple, massaging your hip with his free hand as he sloppily licked you up like candy.

“So good- wish I could eat you all day. I do…” he moaned between kisses on your breasts, switching between suckling them and biting. “I do. I really fucking do…”

Yunho’s fingers press inside of you harder, coaxing you closer to your orgasm. Unbeknownst to you, he was grinding his rock hard cock against the cushion of the couch, desperately trying to ease the pain from how hard he was feeling you soak his fingers like a slut. Your eyes watered, and you were finding it hard to breathe as his long fingers reached spots you never could. You thought back on the times you’d sit on your bed, trying so hard to reach an earth-shattering climax, imagining his fingers fucking you instead of your own. Nothing could ever compare to the real thing.

“Fuck baby, cmon get up. On my lap.” Hazily, you watched as he slipped his fingers out of you, sitting on the couch, legs on the ground. Impatiently, his big hands engulfed each side of your waist and lifted your body with ease to sit on his lap. You bent your knees on either side of his thighs, his cock pressed against your wet cunt.

He craned his neck up to look at you, immediately slotting his lips with yours. Working in tandem, his mouth devoured yours, swallowing you up like he needed you to breathe. One hand cupping your neck and pressing you as close as he could, while the other kneaded the flesh of your ass like a stress toy.

Without thinking, eyes closed as you let him fuck your mouth with his tongue, your hand slipped between your intertwined bodies, fishing his dick from out of his pants, hot and heavy in your hand.

His breath stuttered between his kisses, but his lips never left yours as you wrapped your hand around the upper half, your thumb brushing against the slit on his swollen tip.

He bit your lip accidentally at the stimulation, pulling away from your lips finally to look down at your hand wrapped around him.

His breathing quickened, and his hips bucked, chasing more of your touch as you teasingly played with him. You kept your eyes on his face, watching his eyebrows twitch and his eyes shake.

“Baby, you handle me so f-fucking well…” His moans were quiet, but so loud in the silence of your shared home, the snow howling just outside. 

Your grip lowered, squeezing the base before dragging your hand up and down the length of him. His head lifted again, burying his nose in the crook of your neck, pressing desperate and wet open-mouth kisses on your collarbone, his barely contained whimpers falling against your heated skin.

“Off..” he groaned into you, but too lost in the feeling of him throbbing in your hand, you didn’t quite understand.

“H-huh?”

“Off, off- clothes off. ‘S so hot…” He shimmied underneath, shedding his shorts and nearly ripping his shirt off. 

He grabbed the base of his cock, urging you to lift your hips so he could press his tip against you.

“Nice and slow for me, sweet girl, sit on it. Take your time, don’t wanna hurt yourself…” His eyes locked with yours as you complied with his request, slowly letting your hips sink down on him.

When his tip pressed in, that stupid, lazy boyish smile of his spread across his face, trapping his bottom lip between his teeth as his eyebrows cinched, focused on feeling you take him in like he was meant for you.

“There you go, slow… good, mmm, good fucking girl (Name.)” Your breath caught as you continued to lower your hips down onto him. Bottoming out with a groan, your hands gripped his shoulder, your nails digging into the blades.

You both sat there for a second, relishing the intimate feeling of just being connected. Your breaths mingled, and your thighs shook, his hands massaging your waist, squeezing your hips every time they slid back down.

When Yunho finally spoke, it was strained and so quiet you almost couldn’t hear it.

“Rock your hips. Grind on me pretty, take what you need from me. Make yourself feel good.” 

You whimpered and squeezed your eyes shut, moving your hands to cradle his head. Cautiously testing the waters, you rolled your hips forward, his tip perfectly dragging against that sweet spot deep in your tummy. The moan you let out was borderline pornographic; nobody had ever been so deep in you, and the fact that it was Yunho was so overwhelming.

“Oh god…” You moaned, pressing your lips into his hair, gasping and whining into the soft locks. His hands gripped your hips and helped you move, pushing and pulling you, moving you back and forth on his cock.

“That's it… fuck, always knew you’d take me so well. Like me all in your guts baby, huh?” You nod against him, your breath hitching when he lifted you so you slid up his cock and back down. Effectivley using your body to fuck himself into you.

“Don't stop, keep rolling those hips, angel, do not stop.” His hand came up and gripped your throat, maneuvering your head down so he could kiss you again, groaning into your mouth as you did into his as he fucked you up and down on his cock, your hips contining to grind. With every thrust and every flick of his tongue, his fat tip constantly dragged against that spongy spot inside of you.

A smug laugh slipped past his lips as he watched how desperate you were to feel good, and he was feeling really good about himself as he watched you lose yourself on him.

“Yeah, ride it, baby, ride it…” He bucked his hips, smiling wider when your back went taught feeling the pressure inside of you, as he continued to fuck himself into you slowly, dragging your pleasure out as much as he could.

“This is all for you, for being so good to me all these months, for always being so fucking s-sweet and taking care of me…” He thrusted harder with every other word, like he was enunciating how much this meant to him.

“Thank you Yu- fuck, you’re so big thank you ngh..” He nipped at your bottom lip, giving your throat one more squeeze before moving his hand back down to your hips and forcing your hips to bounce on him a little faster.

“My pretty baby takes dick so well. I regret not fucking you sooner, coulda’ had this pussy a longgg time ago.”  Yunho let his finger slip to your clit, rubbing in pressurized circles, dragging the sweetest noises from you.

You opened your mouth, trying to speak, but all that came out were strangled moans and staggering breaths. Yunho understood, though, pressing his lips against yours again.

“Cumming baby?” He whispered into your mouth, smiling when you nodded, unable to speak, too busy focusing on your impending orgasm. “Good, let go. Feel it and let go for me.”

Like the obedient slut you were for him, your spine straightened and you gasped, your orgasm hitting you like a fucking train, shotting from your toes and electrifying your body like you had been shocked, up through your stomach to your brain, making you lightheaded.

When he felt you cum, his hips stuttered in you feeling you clench like a vice and began to speed up. “Yeah, yeah, yeah- good girl, let me fuck you through it, let me get you through it.”

And thats exactly what he did, without letting up the pace, Yunho fucked into you without abandon, the slap of skin on skin echoing around the living room, mixing with your broken whines and his concentrated groans as he made you fall apart like shattered glass around his dick.

“T-too much–!’ you cried when he continued to bully inside you, his fingers still not letting up on your overstimulated clit. “Gonna c-cum again, Yunho!”

Yunho felt himself reaching his peak, but he would do anything to get you to cum again. With newfound rigor, he rolled his hips into you rough, meanly kissing you and sucking your tongue like he was searching for water.

“Again, angel, again. You can do it.” He moaned loudly into your mouth, his fingers opting to rub your clit slower, this time pushing upward, the pressure increasing tenfold.

Yunho twitched inside of you, feeling as you toppled over the edge again, the second orgasm so much more intense than the first. You couldn't breath, cumming two times so close together. Your thighs burned, and your head spun, vision blurring for a second.

Yunho groaned loudly, bucking his hips a few final times before spilling himself inside of you, continuing to roll his hips into you, riding both of your climaxes out.

You slumped onto him, hands at your side as you regained your breath, thighs sticky, and your body stuck to his. Yunho kissed along your shoulder, allowing you to regain your senses as he came down from his high as well.

Slowly, when you were finally breathing normal, he grabbed your waist and lifted you off of him, sighing as he watched his cock slip out of you, placing you back on the couch.

“Don’t move, I'm gonna go grab a rag.” Yunho stood up and walked down the hallway towards the bedroom. He came back a few seconds later, wearing a pair of sweatpants and carrying a black t-shirt, a pair of underwear, and a wet rag.

He sat down on the floor and gently grabbed your ankles to move your legs to face him, spreading them so he could clean between your thighs. He wiped the cold rag along your inner thighs and cleaned you well, before slipping the pair of underwear over your ankles and up around your hips.

“Here, put this on, it might get cold in here again since we’re not fucking like rabbits anymore.” You both laughed as he handed you the t-shirt. You brought it up to your face, inhaling. It was his, and it smelled like him. You felt fuzzy as you slipped it over your head, smiling when you looked down at him.

He was gazing up at you with nothing but love in his eyes, his hands rubbing absentmindedly along your calves, soothing your aching muscles and placing gentle kisses on your ankles, and up your leg to your knee.

“How are you feeling (Name)?” He waited for your response, his hand never ceasing the gentle massaging.

“Do I even need to say?” You smiled at him, and he smiled back, moving to sit next to you on the couch.

“Guess not, moaned loud enough to wake the neighbors.” Instinctively, you smacked his shoulder in disbelief before the words settled in.

Your smile fell, and a worried look crossed your face. “Was I actually?” He let out a hoot of laughter at your reaction.

“I was joking but you were pretty damn loud. It's okay though, cuz you sounded so pretty.” Yunho kissed along your neck, smiling when you twitched from the tickling feeling.

Suddenly, you remembered the dinner that was still in the kitchen, and you stood up and made a beeline for the kitchen.

“Come on Yu, I'm fucking starving and you made me forget I made dinner.” Yunho chuckled and stood up, following you to the kitchen to make himself a bowl.

With your food in hand, you sat on the couch together, with you lying between his legs, the back of your head lying against his chest as you ate together. The snow fell quietly, and the TV droned in the background as you basked in each other's presence.

“Does this mean you’ll come out of your man cave more now?” Yunho scowled at you and playfully flicked your forehead.

“Don't get smart with me, young lady…” he paused and smiled. 

“Of course, gotta give my girl the attention she deserves, right?”

[moonlightwritingf1]

Prove Me Wrong | LN4

࣪ ִֶָ☾. summary ━━━━━━━ Y/N and Lando have always hated each other—forced into the same social circle, their rivalry fueled by clashing personalities and constant bickering. But when a heated debate about men and female pleasure turns into a challenge, neither of them backs down. What starts as an argument quickly spirals into something far more dangerous, and before she knows it, Lando is proving her wrong in the filthiest way possible.

࣪ ִֶָ☾. pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

࣪ ִֶָ☾. word count ━━━━━━━ 7k

࣪ ִֶָ☾. warnings ━━━━━━━ +18, sexual content, p in v, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms, edging, teasing, spanking

Based on this request.

Part 2.

The room hummed with low chatter and the clink of half-empty glasses as the evening wore on. It was late, and the group gathered in Max and Pietra’s cozy London flat had grown comfortably loose-limbed from hours of wine and laughter. Y/N, leaning back on the sofa, watched with a slight smile as Max and Pietra snuggled up on the couch across from her, whispering conspiratorial little things to each other. On her left, a few of Pietra’s friends were debating some trivial pop-culture moment—something about a celebrity’s latest scandal.

Meanwhile, across the coffee table, Lando lounged in an armchair, having just returned from the kitchen with another beer. His gaze slid toward Y/N, and she felt a familiar spark of irritation before she deliberately looked away. They might have been forced into the same social circle due to Max and Pietra, but she and Lando never passed up an opportunity to clash. He was an adrenaline-chasing Formula 1 star, living for speed and bright lights; she was a quiet professional with a nine-to-five, living comfortably in London. Their personalities repelled each other like misaligned magnets.

Eventually, the conversation drifted into flirtations and confessions—someone playfully mentioned the difference between men’s and women’s libidos, and soon half the room was alive with cheeky teasing. Pietra, always unfiltered once a little alcohol coursed through her veins, giggled and asked if anyone had advice for “improving bedroom enthusiasm.” That was enough of a spark to prompt a wave of anecdotes, jokes, and half-serious stories.

Lando snorted. “Oh, come on, we’re all adults here, right? Are we really giving each other sex tips?” he teased, draping an arm across the back of his chair and shooting a grin at Max. Max just laughed and rolled his eyes.

It wasn’t until Y/N felt a sharp elbow from one of Pietra’s friends that she realized they were all looking to her for an opinion—some last word on the subject. She suddenly found herself the center of attention, but she was neither flustered nor shy in that moment. Possibly thanks to the wine, she felt her usual nerves loosen.

“You know what?” she said, sitting forward and catching everyone’s eye. “I think most men don’t really care about female pleasure. Maybe it’s unintentional, but in my experience, they’re just…satisfied when they’re done and forget about their partner. Not all men,” she added quickly, shrugging. “But it sure feels that way most of the time.”

That simple remark seemed to light a fuse. A chorus of opinions erupted—some people agreed vigorously, others jumped in to defend themselves or their partners. But Lando’s eyebrow rose in particular. He set down his beer bottle with a soft clink against the table.

“Really?” he said slowly, his tone half disbelieving, half challenging. “So you’ve just…never found a man who cares? That’s a bold assumption for about half the population.”

Y/N’s expression hardened. She felt the annoyance rising up, fueled by a hidden tension that always sparked around him. “It’s not an assumption,” she retorted, chin lifting. “It's a personal experience. I never said it’s a hundred percent true for every man on the planet, but don’t pretend it doesn’t happen. A lot.”

A flash of something like irritation—or was it amusement?—crossed Lando’s face. His grin was tight, less playful than usual. “So that’s it, huh?” he remarked. “One or two guys drop the ball, and you write off all men?” He shook his head. “That’s just lazy.”

Across the small living room, Pietra and Max exchanged wary glances. They knew it was usually best to let Y/N and Lando hash out their disagreements on their own—but everyone else around them had gone noticeably quiet. The tension in the air was suddenly thick and electric.

Y/N crossed her arms. “I’m not writing anyone off,” she countered, her voice low but unwavering. “I’m just stating a fact from my perspective. It’s been bad enough times that I no longer expect anything else.”

They locked eyes for a moment, and it felt like a silent battle of wills: he refused to look away, and she refused to back down. Then someone changed the subject, and the conversation took a slight turn. But there was no mistaking the fire in their words.

Later that night, when the others had begun to drift off to separate rooms or hail taxis home, Y/N slipped away from the group, heading to the little balcony that overlooked the quiet London streets. She needed a moment to breathe. The evening air was cool, and the wine had warmed her cheeks uncomfortably, leaving her with a restless feeling in her chest.

She didn’t realize Lando had followed her until she heard the sliding door open. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw his silhouette slip onto the balcony. He closed the door behind him with a soft click, effectively shutting out the noise from inside.

She sighed. “What do you want, Lando?”

He set his beer aside on the small balcony table. “We’re obviously not each other’s favorite people,” he began, leaning against the railing. “But that comment you made—about men not caring? It’s nagging at me.”

She let out a humorless laugh. “Why do you care what I think? Unless it bruises your ego?” she said pointedly.

“It’s not my ego,” he shot back. “I just—look, you can’t throw a statement like that around and not expect someone to disagree. I don’t care about your personal experiences. But it’s pretty…narrow-minded to assume that you know how all men operate.”

She turned to face him fully. Her voice was sharp. “I’m not talking about all men. And it’s not narrow-minded to notice patterns. My experiences are real and valid.”

He took a measured breath, exhaling in frustration. “I never said they weren’t. I’m just saying, maybe you’ve been with the wrong guys.” His eyes flicked over her face, searching. “You and I don’t get along, sure. But your assumption that men are selfish in bed—I can’t let that slide.”

Something in his tone—low, determined—sent a shiver through her. She was keenly aware of the space between them, which felt suddenly charged. “Why?” she asked, crossing her arms protectively. “You want to prove me wrong or something?”

His gaze flickered downward, then back up to her eyes. “Maybe I do,” he said quietly, almost a murmur, but there was unmistakable steel in his words.

She felt her pulse kick up. Part of her wanted to argue, to snap at him for his arrogance. The other part was startled by a heat that coiled in her lower belly, spurred by the air of challenge in his stance. “You’re ridiculous,” she said, though her voice sounded unsteady, even to her own ears.

He took a step closer, enough that she caught the clean scent of his cologne mixed with the faint bitterness of beer. “Maybe,” he acknowledged, “but you keep telling me you’re not just generalizing. That it’s a real pattern. How about letting someone show you otherwise?”

She blinked, her throat tight. “You think you’re that someone?”

He didn’t step back. “I know I’m that someone.”

There it was: confidence hovering on the edge of cockiness, and the friction between them flared. She wanted to deny him just to see that smirk wiped off his face. But a spark of defiance coursed through her, and it was intimately bound with desire. She hated him—his smugness, his brashness. Yet the way he looked at her left her trembling in a way she couldn’t ignore.

Her response slipped out before she could stop herself: “Prove it.”

–

No one else was awake to notice the two of them slipping out of Max and Pietra’s flat. Y/N and Lando didn’t bother with lengthy goodbyes—both of them, though they’d never admit it aloud, wanted to keep this a secret from their friends for as long as possible.

Lando had insisted they go somewhere private, his voice low and insistent. “You won’t be able to keep quiet, and I don’t want Max and Pietra to know what’s going on,” he’d said, his tone leaving no room for argument. She’d rolled her eyes, but deep down, she couldn’t deny the thrill that shot through her at the thought.

Because what he wanted from her, and what she was half-daring him to deliver, simply wasn’t going to be quiet.

The next thing she knew, they were in a taxi headed to her apartment, the silence between them heavy with unspoken tension.

They hailed a late-night cab in tense silence, barely looking at each other though the air between them bristled with anticipation. The moment they reached her building, they were out of the taxi and up the stairs without a word, their hearts pounding in unison. Y/N fumbled with her keys, and it felt like an eternity before the lock finally turned. The instant the door swung open, Lando pressed his palm against it to shove it closed behind them.

Inside the small entrance hall, the hush was broken by the sound of their ragged breaths. She stood there, watching him, her nerves blazing with adrenaline. The light overhead was dim, and her senses seemed hyper-focused on the way his chest rose and fell. When he moved toward her, she braced for that first touch as though it might knock the wind out of her.

“I’m giving you one chance,” he said, his voice low, threaded with challenge. “If you’ve changed your mind, say it now.”

Her lips twitched, torn between a retort and a refusal to speak. Instead, she shook her head—a small, certain motion. He closed the space between them in a single step, and the moment his hand cupped her face, a bolt of electricity shot through her. She grabbed the collar of his shirt, yanking him down for a kiss that started off almost gentle, but quickly dissolved into something filled with need and frustration. They might hate each other in the daylight, but right now, that hatred was fueling a different kind of fire.

They stumbled blindly into the living area, leaving a trail of shoes and jackets behind. At one point, Y/N’s back thumped against a side table, rattling the lamp that sat on it, but she barely noticed. Every nerve in her body zeroed in on Lando’s hands roaming over her—down her waist, up beneath her blouse, across her shoulders. She moaned into his mouth, and he swallowed the sound greedily.

“I don’t want anyone hearing you tonight,” he warned, his breath hitching as he spoke. “Not your neighbors, definitely not our friends.”

Her laugh was breathless, almost taunting. “Then you’d better keep me quiet.”

His eyes flashed with a challenge. “I don’t think so,” he murmured. “I want to hear every sound.”

Somehow, they made it to her bedroom without toppling the furniture. She was the one to flick on the faint bedside lamp; he was the one who slammed the door shut. He looked around at the scattered books, a half-finished glass of water on the nightstand—signs of her normal, everyday life. And here he was, about to disrupt that normalcy for good.

“You can tell me if you want me to stop,” he said, his voice taut with control as he moved in to press her against the edge of the bed.

She met his eyes, her own gaze fevered. Every bit of logic and caution had evaporated the moment they’d brushed their lips in that hallway. “Don’t stop,” she answered, barely more than a whisper.

It was all the invitation he needed. They crashed onto the bed with unrestrained urgency. The softness of the mattress contrasted sharply with the sharpened edge of their mutual hostility. She could taste the remnants of wine on his lips, feel the solid warmth of his body pinning hers. He held her by the wrists at one point, his grip firm but not painful, as if silently reminding her who was in control.

“Told you not every man’s the same,” he muttered, his words a provocative taunt.

She wriggled her wrists free, her own anger igniting. “Shut up,” she hissed, pulling him down again for a fiercer kiss that stoked the embers in her belly. Each movement felt charged: the scrape of his stubble against her neck, the damp press of his lips over her collarbone, the ragged exhalations that mingled in the space between them.

Her mind spun, memories of every argument they’d ever had swirling with the intoxicating reality of his touch. He was surprisingly focused, and though she despised his smugness, she couldn’t deny the jolt of raw pleasure coursing through her. She gripped his arms, nails digging in as a low moan escaped her throat.

“Say it again,” he demanded in a low murmur, his breath hot on her ear. “Say you don’t want me to stop.”

She should have hated giving him the satisfaction, but the words poured out of her like a confession. “Don’t you dare stop.”

He laughed, the sound as dark as it was triumphant. “Good.”

The room was quiet except for the sound of their ragged breaths, the tension between them so thick it felt like it could be cut with a knife. Lando’s hands were already moving, his fingers deftly working the buttons of Y/N’s blouse. She didn’t stop him, didn’t even try to, her body betraying her as she arched into his touch. The fabric fell away, leaving her in just her bra, the cool air of the room brushing against her heated skin.

His gaze dropped, lingering on her chest for a moment before he moved in, his lips finding the curve of her neck. She gasped, her hands gripping his shoulders as he left a trail of open-mouthed kisses along her jawline, down to her collarbone. Each touch was deliberate, teasing, as if he was savoring every inch of her.

“Lando,” she breathed, her voice shaky, but he didn’t respond, too focused on his task. His hands moved to the clasp of her bra, and in one swift motion, it was gone, leaving her completely exposed to him. His eyes darkened as he took her in, his hands roaming over her bare skin, his touch sending shivers down her spine.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, but there was no mistaking the hunger in his tone. He leaned down, his lips capturing one of her nipples, his tongue flicking over the sensitive peak. She let out a moan, her fingers tangling in his hair as he continued to tease her, his teeth grazing against her skin just enough to make her gasp.

He didn’t stop there, his lips moving down her body, leaving a trail of kisses along her stomach, his hands working to rid her of her jeans and underwear. She kicked them off eagerly, her body trembling with anticipation as he positioned himself between her legs. His hands slid up her thighs, his touch feather-light, and she could feel the heat of his breath against her skin.

“Lando,” she said again, her voice barely above a whisper, but he didn’t answer, his lips brushing against her inner thighs, teasing her until she was squirming beneath him. She could feel the wetness between her legs, her body aching for more, but he was taking his time, savoring every moment.

Finally, he moved in, his breath warm against her most sensitive skin. Without warning, his tongue darted out, flicking against her clit in a precise, teasing stroke that made her gasp sharply, her back arching off the bed. Her hands flew to his head, fingers tangling in his hair, but he didn’t falter. He kept his rhythm slow and deliberate, alternating between soft, lingering licks and sharp, focused flicks that sent jolts of pleasure rippling through her. His hands gripped her hips firmly, pinning her in place as she writhed beneath him, her moans growing louder with each passing second.

“Lando,” she whimpered, her voice trembling with need, but he didn’t respond, his mouth too occupied to speak. His tongue circled her clit, the pressure building with every pass, until she was trembling, her legs shaking uncontrollably. Just when she thought she couldn’t take anymore, he pulled back, leaving her gasping for air, only to sink lower, his tongue sliding deep inside her. She cried out, her body jerking at the sudden intrusion, her fingers tightening in his hair.

He didn’t let up, his tongue thrusting in and out of her rhythmically, while his lips found her clit again, sucking gently at first, then harder, pulling every ounce of sensation from her. She was panting now, her breath coming in short, ragged bursts, her hips bucking against his face as she tried to chase the pleasure he was giving her. “Please,” she begged, her voice breaking, but he only smirked against her skin, his fingers replacing his mouth as he slid two inside her, curling them just the way she needed.

Her body tensed, her thighs clamping around his head as he continued to tease her clit with his tongue, his fingers moving in steady, relentless strokes. The coil inside her tightened, the pressure building to an unbearable peak. She could feel it coming, that wave of raw, consuming pleasure, and she clawed at the sheets, her entire body trembling with anticipation.

“Don’t stop,” she pleaded, her voice barely a whisper, but it was all he needed to push her over the edge. With a final, deliberate stroke of his tongue, she shattered, her moans filling the room as her orgasm crashed over her in dizzying waves. Her body convulsed, her hips jerking uncontrollably as he worked her through it, his mouth and fingers driving her higher and higher until she was utterly spent, collapsing back onto the bed in a trembling heap.

He didn’t stop until she was completely boneless, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Only then did he pull back, his smug grin visible even in the dim light of the room. He looked up at her, a smirk playing on his lips. “Still think men don’t care about your pleasure?” he asked, his voice teasing, but there was a hint of something else in his tone—something that made her stomach twist.

She didn’t answer, her mind still foggy from the intensity of her orgasm, but he didn’t seem to mind, moving up her body until he was hovering over her, his eyes locked on hers.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he said, his voice low, and she could feel the heat of his body against hers, his erection pressing against her thigh.

She swallowed hard, her heart racing as she looked up at him, the smirk on his lips sending a shiver down her spine.

She watched, her breath hitching, as Lando stood up long enough to peel off his shirt, revealing the lean, muscular planes of his chest. His jeans followed, sliding down his hips along with his boxers, leaving him as bare as she was. Her gaze locked onto him, her mouth going dry as she took in every inch of his body. His chest rose and fell with each breath, muscles taut and defined, glistening faintly under the dim light. Her eyes trailed lower, and she couldn’t help but notice the way his arousal strained against him, thick and hard, a bead of pre-cum glistening at the tip. She swallowed hard, her mouth watering at the sight, a surge of heat pooling between her thighs. 

He was perfect. Every line, every curve of his body seemed designed to drive her wild. She felt an almost primal urge to touch him, to taste him, to feel him inside her. Her fingers twitched with the need to reach out, but she held back, her breath hitching as she took him in, every detail etched into her mind. 

Lando’s smirk deepened as he caught her staring, his eyes dark with lust. “Like what you see?” he teased, his voice low and rough, sending a shiver down her spine. She didn’t trust herself to speak, her body trembling with anticipation as she nodded weakly, her cheeks flushing with desire. The sight of him, so hard and already leaking for her, was almost too much to bear. She wanted him—needed him—and the intensity of that need left her breathless.

Without a word, he was back on top of her, his lips crashing down on hers in a kiss that was as demanding as it was intoxicating. His hands gripped her hips, lifting her slightly as he positioned himself between her legs, the heat of his body pressing against hers. She could feel the weight of him, the urgency in his movements, and it sent a fresh wave of desire coursing through her.

“Prove it,” she challenged again, her voice trembling but defiant, her eyes locked on his. His smirk was wicked, his breath hot against her lips. “Gladly,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. But before he could claim her mouth once more, she reached over to her bedside table, fumbling for a moment before pulling out a condom.

She pressed it into his hand, her gaze never leaving his. “Put it on,” she said firmly, her voice steady despite the heat coursing through her veins. Lando’s eyes flickered, a mix of surprise and amusement crossing his face, but he didn’t argue. With a slow, deliberate movement, he tore open the wrapper and rolled the condom on, his hands steady despite the tension in the room.

The air between them crackled with anticipation as he leaned back over her, his body hovering inches above hers. “Better?” he teased, his voice laced with a dark amusement that sent a shiver down her spine.

She didn’t respond with words, instead pulling him down into a searing kiss that silenced any further conversation. The tension between them was palpable, a mix of hatred and desire that burned hotter with every passing second. His body pressed against hers, the weight of him igniting a fiery need deep within her. She could feel the thickness of him, hard and ready, and her breath hitched as he positioned himself at her entrance.

“Still think men don’t care?” he muttered against her lips, his voice dripping with challenge and something far more primal.

She didn’t answer. He paused, his body still hovering over hers, his cock pressing against her entrance but not giving her what she craved. Y/N’s breath hitched, her hips instinctively trying to push closer, but he held her still, his hands firm on her waist. “C’mon,” he taunted, his voice low and rough, dragging his fingers along her skin in a way that made her shiver. “Say please. Let’s see if you can manage to be polite for once.”

Her jaw tightened, her pride warring with the desperate need coursing through her. She hated him—hated how he could reduce her to this, trembling and aching beneath him. But the ache in her core was too much to ignore. “…Please,” she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.

He smirked, his fingers tracing lazy circles on her inner thighs. “That wasn’t very convincing.” He leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. “Try again. Let me hear it like you mean it.”

“Please,” she repeated, her voice louder this time, laced with frustration and need. Her hips bucked involuntarily, but he held her still, his grip unyielding.

“Almost there,” he murmured, his breath hot against her skin. “But I think you can do better than that.”

She groaned, her nails digging into the sheets as she glared at him. “Please, Lando. Just…fuck me.”

His grin widened, dark and triumphant. “That’s better.” Finally, he pushed into her, his cock filling her in one slow, deliberate stroke. The sensation was overwhelming, the way he stretched her, the heat of him pressing against her walls. She gasped, her back arching off the bed as he buried himself fully inside her.

For her, the feeling was like fire and electricity, her body alight with every inch of him. She could feel the throbbing ache of her own need, the wetness that soaked her inner walls, the way her muscles clenched around him, desperate to keep him close. Every thrust sent jolts of pleasure through her, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps as he moved.

For him, her pussy was a tight, wet fist, gripping him with an intensity that made his head spin. The heat of her, the way her walls fluttered and clenched around him, was almost too much to bear. He could feel every pulse, every quiver of her body as he fucked her, and it drove him wild.

“You feel that?” he growled, his lips brushing against her ear as he thrust into her, slow and deep. “That’s me making you forget every other man you’ve ever had.” His voice was low, rough, and filled with a smugness that made her burn with both anger and desire. “You can hate me all you want, but your body doesn’t.”

She whimpered, her nails digging into his back as he continued to fuck her, each stroke deliberate and unhurried. He wasn’t rushing, wasn’t letting her escape the intensity of it. Every inch of him pressed against her, stretching her, filling her, until she was trembling with the need for more.

Just as she felt the coil in her belly tighten, her body hoovering on the edge, he pulled out abruptly, leaving her gasping and empty. Her hips bucked instinctively, trying to chase the sensation, but he held her still, his smirk infuriating. “Not yet,” he murmured, his voice dripping with amusement. “I’m not done with you.”

He positioned himself at her entrance again, pressing against her but not pushing in. She could feel the heat of him, the thickness that teased her, and it was maddening. Her breath caught, her fingers clutching at his arms as she tried to pull him closer. “You look so pretty like this,” he teased, watching the way her body reacted to him, how her chest rose and fell with each ragged breath. “Begging for it. So desperate.”

“Lando…” she whispered, her voice trembling, her body trembling. “Please…”

Finally, he pushed into her again, this time achingly slow, inch by inch, making her feel every stretch, every bit of him filling her. She gasped, her back arching as he bottomed out, his hips flush against hers. “That’s it,” he whispered, his hand gripping her jaw, forcing her to look into his eyes. “Don’t look away. I want you to see who’s making you feel this good.”

His pace was relentless, his thrusts hard and deep, each one driving her closer to the edge. Her moans filled the room, and every time she let out a sound, he kissed her, his lips capturing hers in messy, desperate kisses that swallowed every gasp, every whimper.

“This what you wanted?” he muttered against her lips, his voice low and teasing. “You begged for it, remember?” His hands moved to her wrists, pinning them down beside her head as he fucked her harder, his body pressing her into the mattress. “Look at you. So fucking pretty when you take me like this.”

When she whimpered from how deep he already was, he just lifted her thighs higher, pushing her knees toward her chest. The new angle made her cry out, her body jerking as he sank even deeper inside her. “Yeah?” he grinned, his thrusts growing more intense. “I thought so.”

Her body tensed, the coil in her belly snapping as she came, her pussy clenching around him in waves of pleasure. For her, it was like being consumed by fire, her entire body shaking as the orgasm ripped through her.

The sensation was overwhelming, her pussy clenching around him in rhythmic pulses, each one sending jolts of electricity through her. It was as if her entire being was consumed by a white-hot heat, the pleasure radiating from her core and spreading through her limbs, leaving her trembling in its wake.

For Lando, the feeling was intoxicating. Her pussy contracted around his cock in a series of tight, gripping waves, each one pulling a groan from deep within him. The heat of her was almost too much, her inner walls fluttering and pulsing against him in a way that made his head spin. It was as if she was milking him, drawing every ounce of sensation from his throbbing length, and it took every ounce of his self-control to keep from spilling right then and there.

She could feel the thickness of his cock, the way it filled her completely, pressing against every sensitive spot inside her. The sensation was both delicious and overwhelming, the friction sending shivers of pleasure through her body. Her nails dug into his back, her hips bucking against him as she rode out the waves of her orgasm, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

“Fuck,” Lando groaned, his voice rough with need. “You feel so good.” His hips snapped forward, driving himself deeper into her, the sensation sending another wave of pleasure through her already sensitive body. “That’s it, beautiful. Let me feel you.”

She whimpered, her body still trembling from the intensity of her climax, but he didn’t stop. Instead, he began to move again, his thrusts slow and deliberate, each one dragging against her overstimulated walls. The sensation was unbearable in the best way, the pleasure building once more as he continued to fuck her through her orgasm.

“You’re not done yet,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her ear. “I’m not done with you, baby.”

His words sent a shiver down her spine, the combination of his voice and his cock inside her driving her wild. She could feel every inch of him, the way his length pressed against her sensitive spots, the way his thickness stretched her in the most delicious way. Her body was still trembling, her pussy still fluttering around him, but he didn’t let up, his pace steady and relentless.

“Lando…” she breathed, her voice trembling with need. “Please…”

He smirked, his lips capturing hers in a searing kiss that swallowed her moans. “Please what?” he murmured against her lips, his voice low and teasing. “Tell me what you want.”

She didn’t answer with words, instead pulling him closer, her body arching into his as she surrendered to the pleasure he was giving her. Her pussy clenched around him, her body trembling as another wave of pleasure began to build, the sensation overwhelming as he continued to fuck her with slow, deliberate thrusts.

“That’s it,” he murmured, his voice rough with need. “Let me feel you.”

She could feel the tension building again, her body hoovering on the edge of another climax, but he didn’t let her fall. Instead, he pulled back slightly, his cock still buried deep inside her, the sensation leaving her gasping. “Not yet,” he whispered, his breath hot against her skin. "Let’s see how much you can take."

Her body trembled, the need for release again almost unbearable, but she didn’t argue. Instead, she leaned into him, her lips capturing his in a kiss that was as desperate as it was passionate. The air between them crackled with tension, the combination of hatred and desire fueling the fire between them. She hated him, but in that moment, she needed him just as much.

And with that, he didn’t give her a moment to recover. One second, she was sprawled on her back, breathless and trembling, the next he was gripping her hips and flipping her onto her stomach with a force that left her gasping. The move was sudden, commanding, and she barely had time to register what was happening before he was pressing her down into the mattress, his weight pinning her in place. Her face buried into the sheets, she felt the heat of his body hovering over her, his presence overwhelming as he positioned himself between her legs once more.

She could hear the faint rustle of the condom as he adjusted, and then, without warning, he was inside her again, his cock sliding deep into her pussy with a single, forceful thrust. She cried out, her fingers clawing at the sheets as he began to move, his pace relentless from the start. His hands gripped her hips tightly, pulling her back into him with every thrust, forcing her to take him exactly how he wanted. Her body rocked against the bed, the sound of their skin slapping together filling the room, mingling with her muffled moans.

One of his hands left her hip, and before she could react, it came down hard on her ass with a sharp spank. The sound echoed in the room, followed by a gasp torn from her lips. Her body jerked, her pussy clenching around him involuntarily, and he let out a low chuckle, clearly enjoying her reaction. He did it again, and again, each smack leaving a faint sting that only heightened the pleasure coursing through her. Her moans grew louder, more desperate, her body trembling as he continued to fuck her, his hand alternating between gripping her hip and spanking her until her ass was flushed and tingling.

“You like that?” he growled, his voice rough and thick with lust. She could only whimper in response, her body too overwhelmed to form words. His hand snaked up her back, pressing her down further as he leaned over her, his chest now flush against her back. The heat of him was searing, the firmness of his chest pressing into her spine sending shivers down her body. His weight pinned her in the most delicious way, making her feel small, vulnerable, and utterly at his mercy.

One of his hands moved to her wrists, pinning them above her head, while the other tangled in her hair, his fingers gripping the roots firmly. He tugged gently, tilting her head back, and she let out a low moan, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure through her. His lips brushed against her ear, his breath hot as he whispered, “You’re taking me so well, Y/N. So fucking good for me. Your pussy feels incredible, so tight, so wet. You were made for this.”

His words sent a wave of warmth flooding through her, her body trembling as he continued to praise her. She loved it—loved the way his voice rasped in her ear, the way his words made her feel like she was the only thing in the world that mattered to him in that moment. His grip on her hair tightened, sending another thrill through her, the mix of pleasure and pain making her even more desperate for him.

He kissed her cheek, open-mouthed and messy, his lips trailing down to her neck as he continued to fuck her with deep, punishing strokes. His hips snapped forward, each thrust driving his cock deep into her, the angle hitting her in ways that made her see stars. She could feel every inch of him, the way his length stretched her, the way his thickness filled her completely. Her pussy clenched around him, her body writhing beneath him as she tried to get even closer, to take him even deeper.

The way his chest pressed against her back was intoxicating—solid, unyielding, and grounding. It made her feel small and safe in a way that only heightened the intensity of what he was doing to her. She could feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest, the way his breath hitched every time her pussy fluttered around him. The combination of his weight, his warmth, and the relentless rhythm of his thrusts was overwhelming, and she could feel herself teetering on the edge once more.

“That’s it,” he growled, his voice breaking with need. “Cum for me, Y/N. Let me feel you.”

His words pushed her over the edge. Her body tensed, her back arching as her orgasm crashed over her, waves of pleasure rippling through her with an intensity that left her gasping. Her pussy clenched around him, milking his cock as she shuddered beneath him, her moans muffled by the sheets.

And then he was there with her. With a guttural groan, his hips stuttered, and he came hard, his cock pulsing inside her as he filled the condom with his release. His body trembled against hers, his grip on her wrists and hair tightening as he rode out his climax, his breath hot against her neck.

For a moment, they stayed like that, both of them breathless and spent, his weight pressing her into the mattress. Slowly, he released her wrists and hair, his fingers brushing against her scalp as he let go. He kissed her shoulder softly, almost tenderly. Then with a groan, Lando pulled out of her, the sudden emptiness making her shudder. He sat back on his heels, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he quickly removed the condom. His fingers were steady despite the lingering haze of pleasure, tying it off with practiced efficiency to ensure nothing spilled. He tossed it into the nearby bin before collapsing beside her on the bed, his body sinking into the mattress with a heavy sigh.

The air between them was thick with the remnants of their shared intensity, the faint scent of sweat and sex lingering. He didn’t speak, instead lying there with his eyes closed, his breathing gradually slowing as he caught his breath. She stayed quiet too, her body still humming with the aftershocks of her orgasm, her mind too clouded to process much beyond the weight of him beside her and the warmth of his body close to hers.

For a moment, it was as if time had stopped, the world outside their little bubble fading into insignificance. The only sound was the soft rhythm of their breathing, a quiet reminder of what had just transpired between them. Hate or desire—whatever it was that bound them together—felt far less important now, replaced by a strange, unspoken closeness neither of them would admit to.

But as the silence stretched on, Y/N couldn’t help but glance over at him, her eyes tracing the lines of his face, the faint sheen of sweat on his skin, the way his chest rose and fell in a steady, calming rhythm. She didn’t know what to say—what could she say?—so she stayed quiet, her body still trembling faintly as she tried to make sense of it all.

Lando, for his part, seemed content to let the silence linger, his eyes still closed, a faint smirk playing on his lips as though he could sense her staring. But he didn’t move, didn’t speak, didn’t acknowledge the tension that still hung in the air between them. He simply lay there, breathing, his presence a quiet reminder of the line they’d just crossed—and the inevitable fallout that would follow.

She turned her head to look at him again, her body still humming with the aftershocks of her orgasm. He met her gaze, his smirk soft now, less teasing. “Still think men don’t care?” he asked, his voice low and rough, but there was a hint of something else in his tone—something that made her stomach twist in a way she wasn’t ready to examine.

She didn’t answer. She didn’t need to.

She tried to shift on the bed, but her body protested instantly. Her thighs were sore, her pussy still throbbing from the intensity of it all, overstimulated and sensitive. She winced slightly, and Lando noticed. Without a word, he pushed himself up, his movements fluid despite the exhaustion etched into his features. He disappeared into the kitchen, returning moments later with a glass of water. He handed it to her, his smirk faint but still present as she took it, her fingers brushing against his for the briefest moment.

Once she’d finished drinking, he set the glass aside and tugged at the sheets, pulling them up over her. His touch was surprisingly gentle as he adjusted the covers around her, making sure she was comfortable. She didn’t thank him, and he didn’t expect her to. But when he slid back onto the bed beside her, he didn’t leave her entirely. Instead, his arm snaked around her waist, pulling her closer until her back was pressed against his chest. His fingers traced lazy patterns on her skin, his touch light but deliberate.

“Don’t think this means anything,” he muttered, his voice low and rough against the back of her neck. “I still hate you.”

She rolled her eyes, but she didn’t pull away. The warmth of his body was comforting, even if she’d never admit it. She could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest against her back, his heartbeat a quiet rhythm that seemed to sync with hers. For a moment, she let herself relax into him, her body still humming with the lingering pleasure of what they’d just done.

But then, just when she thought it was over, he leaned in, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear. “You still think you hate me?” he whispered, his voice husky and filled with dark amusement. She could feel his smirk against her skin, and it sent a shiver down her spine. “I think you need another reminder.”

Her breath hitched, her body betraying her as she pressed back against him instinctively. She hated how easily he could unravel her, how his words could send heat pooling between her thighs again. She didn’t respond, but he didn’t need her to. He already knew the effect he had on her.

They stayed like that for a while, tangled up in the sheets, their bodies still buzzing with the aftermath of their shared intensity. Eventually, he tilted his head down, his lips grazing hers in a kiss that was equal parts smug and tender. “You were so desperate for me,” he murmured against her mouth, his voice barely above a whisper. “Bet you won’t ever forget this.”

She didn’t answer. She didn’t need to. The truth was written in the way her body still trembled against his, in the way her breath stuttered at his touch. And as much as she hated to admit it, he was right. She wouldn’t forget this—not for a long time.

[euno11a]

Baby Girl

Pairing: DILF!Jungkook x PreSchool Teacher!Reader

Synopsis: You always gave yourself one rule, never fall for a single dad. It would be messy and you’d never be his number one. So why did your favourite kid’s dad have to be so hot?

Warnings: fluff, talks of child abandonment, single father JK, angst, arguments, smut, penetrative sex, oral (m and f receiving), light spanking, hair pulling, make outs, kissing, fingering, clit play, clit stimulation, teasing, pet names, mentions of past relationships, dom!jungkook, big cock!jungkook, blonde!jungkook, talks of past pregnancy (not reader), mention of abortion (JK’s ex), sexual tension, alcohol consumption, thigh riding, masturbation, aftercare, swearing, praising, a bit of jealousy, hickeys, handjob, protected sex, rough and soft sex, overstimulation, and multiple orgasms 

______________________________________________________________

“Why are you trying to feed Sara the crayon!” You squealed from your spot behind your desk, swiftly approaching the small circle table holding the kids before taking the purple crayon from Ara’s tiny hands. The small girl’s large brown eyes stared back at you, a smile breaking out onto her lips as she began giggling and babbling about the drawing she made for her dad.

“Look! Daddy has a pur..pur-el shirt cebause he love pur-el!” Ara pointed excitedly to the shirt she drew on her stickfigure, pride glowing in her eyes. 

Your smile grew as your grip around the crayon loosened, placing it back down on the table, crouching between her and Sara’s little chairs. “Now that’s gorgeous, Ara! Your dad is gonna love it so much, but how about we stop trying to feed our friends crayons?” She giggled, agreeing before going back to her art. It was true, Ara’s dad, Jeon Jungkook, treasured every single thing she made for him. Every time she would run up to him after school, hands reaching up to him with a new little project every day. One day it was a flower that had things we were grateful for written on the petals, other days it was just a little drawing she made, or it was a seasonal art project. And she never failed to tell you all about his reactions the next day.

Every day you would watch all your students run to their parents coming to pick them up at lunch, most stopped to say ‘Hi’ or ask how their kid was doing - Jungkook never did that. It seemed odd at first, wanting to meet your student’s dad to introduce yourself and get acquainted was a normal thing most teachers did. However, you started noticing pretty early on he hung out near the back of the group of parents that waited near the doors, waiting for Ara, getting her, and then looking at you with a little smile before leaving. Why did he do that? The small pleas for help to get their coats on before the bell filled your classroom, the children still mingling and talking, some cleaning up their tables, but most ready to up and leave as the bell rings. After making sure all the kids had their belongings, you told them to line up, “One, two, three! Eyes on me!” You called out, watching all their little bug eyes look back at you. The small action made a smile spread across your face each time - how could it not? There are about fifteen pairs of eyes that look at you at the same time, with the same little focused expression. It’s impossible not to smile!

Everyone crowded at the door, talking in soft whispers as they waited for you to open it and let them run off to their parents. You let the children run in different directions, enjoying the happy chatter around you as people began leaving. Just as you were about to head into the school again, you felt a little tug on your sleeve, making you look down. “ Miss L/n, daddy’s not here…”

Her little voice trailed off and it instantly made you go into protective mode. You crouched in front of her, holding her small hand as you observed how her big boba eyes got glossy and her little button nose got red. It was a rare sight seeing Ara cry, she almost never did in your class unless it was something truly meaningful to her. “Shh, it’s okay, Ara. Your dad probably got caught up in something! How about we wait here until he arrives, hm?” You offered, wiping away the small tears that dropped down her cheeks, her head nodding softly as you stood up and held her hand outside. 

Twenty minutes pass and nothing. It was unlike Jungkook to be late, every day you could see his car park in the same spot under a tree, getting out and adjusting his jacket before taking a few steps…then pausing beside his car to lock it three times. Now that you think about it, you sound kinda stalker-ish with how much attention you pay to him. The air started getting cooler, so you took Ara back inside the classroom, thankful that you had an hour break before your afternoon class showed up. “Are you warm? You can take your jacket off, Ara. Do you want some paper to draw?”

Her head was tilted down as she sat in her normal seat near the cozy corner you had set up for your students, not really answering your questions. “Did daddy leave me?” She asked, her tiny fingers picking at her other ones as she asked.

Sourness filled your heart as you heard her question, you pulled out the small chair beside her, tilting your head to see her face. “Honey, of course he didn’t leave you. He’s just running late for some reason. Why would you think that?” 

“Mommy did…” Her words were cut off by sudden footsteps approaching the class quickly, a man hunched over huffing and puffing like he had just ran a marathon. “Oh god, I’m so sorry, baby.” He said, still gasping for air as he approached us, kneeling down on her other side.

Her mom left? You stood up, straightening out your cardigan as you stared down at the man pressing his forehead against Ara’s jacket covered arm. “Ara, I’m sorry, daddy had to close up the shop cause your uncles weren’t there. I’m sorry, bug.” Wow, he apologized a lot, even though Ara had already probably forgotten about what happened. Her bright little smile was there again, brightening the room as his large…tattooed hand caressed the opposite arm. 

“Daddy! Look what I made!” Ara exclaimed, showing her dad her little portrait of her and her dad, wearing his purple shirt.

“Wow, I love it, baby girl! It’s so me. You know where this is going?” The way they both said “on the fridge” at the exact same time would make any woman’s ovaries burst. It was too cute! Ara’s dad stood up, rubbing his hands on the back of his pants before looking at you, staring blankly before his eyes widened and a hand was out stretched. “Sorry! I’m Jungkook, Jeon Jungkook! Ara’s dad, cause she has the same last name as me, but not only that reason! Her mom and I-” He stopped, his cheeks tinting a light red as you grasped his hand, shaking it with furrowed brows. “I’m gonna stop talking before I make it worse.”

“No, no, please. I always enjoy hearing about how parents are related to their child.” You laughed, releasing his hand again - eyes gleaming from the way his cheeks darkened in colour again. “It’s honestly okay, Mr. Jeon. Ara and I had a feeling something came up at work and that’s why you were late.”

The sigh of relief that escaped him must have been in him for a while, his whole body relaxing a little more after you said that. “Thank you for looking after her. This won’t happen again, at all. Uhm..Ms…?”

“Oh! Sorry, Y/n. Y/n L/n, Ara’s teacher. Since she’s in my class.” You over explained just like he did, thankfully he had a sense of humor since he let out a soft breathy laugh. “Again, don’t worry at all, I understand. Things happen sometimes.” You eased him, smiling gently as he grabbed Ara’s little hand, helping her out of her chair.

“Yeah…but thank you…still.” He said one last time, leaning down to pick his daughter up before propping her on his hip. Her little hand went to his hair immediately, tugging softly as he pulled his head away, smiling at her. They left the room, chatting softly as he walked back down the hall to exit through the front office. Sitting at your desk, you opened your computer, preparing your slideshow for your afternoon class on how to make a pretty sunset with pastels, but the only thing you could think about…

He had really pretty hair.

______________________________________________________________

“Wait, wait, wait- rewind. You’re telling me that you were face to face with a DILF and did nothing?!” Rose practically yelled as you walked together down the hall towards the parking lot.

“Okay, let’s not call him that…he’s still the father of my student. It feels wrong calling him something so…vulgar?” You squeemed while fumbling for your keys. “Plus, what was I supposed to do? His kid was right there, it’s not like I could’ve just jumped his bones right there.”

She glanced at you from the corner of her eyes, a small smirk on her lips as she grabbed her own keys out of her bag. “Well, I’m just saying, maybe he would’ve been into that. Having you get all up on him, nice and close and just-” You shoved her away playfully, laughing as you watched her mimic some sort of makeout session. 

“There is no way that would've happened! Again, Rose, you’re forgetting this was the first time I’ve ever actually talked to the guy. It’s not like some magical thing is gonna happen to make us instantly fall in love.” She pushed open the doors to the front office, a shiver running down your spine as the cool breeze hit your face. You unlocked your car, standing by the driver’s door as you spoke again. “This is real life, not some romance book that’s gonna have me sweeped off my feet by the end of it.”

“Yeah, yeah…” She waved a dismissive hand, opening her car door before poking her head out again. “I’m just saying, it’s been a while for you since you’ve dated, so why not try out the awkward, DILF of a dad?”

“Have a good night, Rose.”

All you could hear was her laughter as you got in and closed your own door. 

______________________________________________________________

Mondays are the worst.

It’s almost like a sick joke - you wake up and feel like it’s gonna be a productive day, but instead, your makeup looked trashy, your favourite shirt that you were supposed to wear today had a stain on it, your coffee machine was broken, and your car wouldn’t start for a good twenty minutes.

So yeah, it’s a lovely day.

“I am so sorry, Rose! Thank you for watching over my class, I swear I’ll be there soon.” You rambled quickly, looking both ways on the road before taking a left.

“Girl, relax, it’s okay. Could you pick me up a coffee though? Didn’t have time to make my own today.” You could hear her shuffling around, probably in your desk to find the spelling sheets you had ready for your students.

“Of course, I was gonna pick one up anyway.” Your voice came out as a murmur, trying to focus on the road so you didn’t add another problem to your list of issues today.

There was some sort of sound that came from her side of the call, something between a hum and squeal of delight. “There’s one coffee place that’s not too far from the school, The Quiet Bean, reaaaaally cute place!”

The Quiet Bean? People are getting creative nowadays…After a few more minutes of talking - you telling her what she should start the kids on, and her telling you where the shop is - you finally hung up. Plugging in the address of the coffee shop, you pulled up to a small shop. It was the sort of place that invited you in without making a scene. Its façade was a blend of weathered brick and soft, taupe-painted wood, the kind that had aged gracefully, like it had stories to tell. The large windows were framed in simple, cream-colored trim, their panes reflecting the faintest light of the afternoon sun. A faint trace of ivy crept up along the edges, as if nature itself had taken a liking to this quiet little corner of the world.

The café’s sign hung above the door, a modest wooden board with the name The Quiet Bean painted in elegant, flowing script. The letters, accented by a small, delicate illustration of a steaming coffee cup, as though to beckon you inside with the promise of something warm and comforting. It wasn’t flashy, but there was something undeniably welcoming about it, something that whispered of calm moments and good company.

As you stepped closer, the faint scent of lavender and earth drifted from a row of mismatched flower boxes, their colors a soft mix of greens and purples. Small, bistro-style tables were scattered outside, their wrought-iron chairs empty for now, but ready to welcome anyone looking to enjoy the sun with a cup in hand. 

Pulling the door open, you were met with a strong scent of freshly brewed coffee and pastries. Your eyes widened as you looked around, taking in the detail of the shop and taking note of every little detail that was put into building it. You slowly approached the counter, eyes trained on the display of sweets. God, they looked delicious. It was as if everywhere you turned there was something new you noticed - now, it was the simple yet captivating writing on the menu board that hung above the counter. Why was writing captivating you? Nevermind. 

You glanced around, a few people were sitting at tables, enjoying a warm coffee with a sweet treat, but no one behind the counter. Your brows furrowed softly, tilting your head to try and see if someone was lingering behind the walkway to the back of the coffee shop, but there was no one. You reached forward, tapping the small bell that sat beside one of the pastry display cases, the high pitched shrill sound making you jump slightly. 

A guy, wiping his hands on the towel that hung from his apron quickly rounded the corner. His blonde hair tied into a small bun as he looked up. Those eyes…the wide doe ones that seemed all too familiar. The ones that held the universe…where had you seen them before? “Welcome to The Quiet Bea-” The man’s voice cut off as he stood there staring at you, his round eyes widening slightly. “M-Ms. Y/n…what…you’re…”

It clicked. Those eyes, the ones you have to look at every single day, the same ones Ara had. “Mr. Jeon, it’s…uhm, hello.” Why was this so embarrassing? This was just like when you saw a teacher outside of school and didn’t know how to act. Holy hell. “Sorry…sorry, good morning.”

His cheeks tinted a light pink, the sound of him clearing his throat sounded through the small cafe, you watched him cringe from the sound. “G-Good morning…I’m sorry, I just wasn’t expecting…never mind.” He shook his head, a few strands of his blonde hair framing his face as he approached the cash register. “What can I get for you?”

“Just two lattes please.” You smiled, gaze wandering off to the side as you eyed the pastries again. As if on cue, your stomach rumbled, causing you to freeze and Jungkook to glance up at you from the register. A soft chuckle escaped his lips as he leaned forward on the counter, a small tilt to his head. “Did you maybe want some food, too? Our pistachio croissants are really good, if I do say so myself.”

Now it was your turn to turn pink, a sheepish smile spreading across your face as you nodded. “I’ll take two of those, too, please.” He nodded, a smile still lingering on his face as he used the tons to grab out two of the fresh croissants. Placing the bag on the counter, he turned his back to you as he started on the coffees. 

As you stood there, it was hard not to notice how wide his back was. It was the perfect size to his waist which was - surprisingly - small. And not to mention the way his shirt hugged his chest and torso, there was practically nothing left for the imagination, there was even a teasingly small amount of tattoos shown that littered his right hand, and you just knew there were more. Maybe Mondays aren't so bad. I mean, you got to see that perfect ass- okay, no. Stop it! That is still your student's dad!

He turned around, two coffees in hand as he placed them on the counter, tapping something into the register before telling you your total. You pulled out your card, tapping it on the card machine before situating yourself to grab everything. “Uh…I don’t mean to be, like, that one parent…but why is the teacher of my daughter here getting coffee when school has already started?”

“Oh, so you were one of the kids that was always on time to class.” You said with a small smile, looking down into your wallet as you placed your card back into its proper place. “I was having a bad morning, running late. But my friend, who’s a teacher as well, is watching over my class. She wanted a coffee.” You wiggled your finger at the cup, a smile on your face that wouldn’t go away for some reason. 

It was impossible not to giggle at the way his brows furrowed and his bottom lip pouted from your comment. “I was not ‘one of those kids.’” He crossed his arms, looking at you as you grabbed the coffees and bag that held your pastries. “If it means anything…I hope you have a better day.” His voice was like honey, something so sweet, you never wanted it to disappear. 

“Thank you…I hope the same for you, Mr. Jeon.”

“Please, call me Jungkook!” Even his smile was sweet…fuck.

Just as you were about to exit the shop, you turned, using your back to push the door open. “Alright then, Jungkook. And call me, Y/n…I’m not your teacher.” Your last words left him going red again, and to your unease, it was a sight you wouldn’t mind seeing again.  ______________________________________________________________

As the warm afternoon sunlight streamed through the windows of your classroom, casting a comforting glow over the tidy rows of desks, Rose settled into the chair across from you, a concerned expression etched on her face. The air was filled with the faint scent of chalk and the distant hum of the air conditioning vent.

"Y/n, you're not going to tell me what's going on, are you?" Rose asked, her voice gentle but probing. You hesitated, fidgeting with the edge of the paper bag as you took a bite of your croissant. Damn they were good. They were alone in the classroom during their lunch break, the door locked securely behind them.

Rose's eyes narrowed as she watched your flustered movements. "Come on, spill it," she urged, her voice a gentle coaxing. You took another bite, your eyes avoiding Rose's inquiring gaze. "It's just...I saw Jungkook at the coffee shop this morning…Ara’s dad," you mumbled around a mouthful of food, eyes darting back to Rose.

Rose's eyebrows shot up. "That coffee shop? Where you got our lattes?" You nodded, your cheeks flushing. Rose's expression turned thoughtful as she leaned in, her voice taking on a conspiratorial tone. "So you saw Hot DILF again?"

Your eyes widened in alarm, hastily causing you to look around the room as if ensuring they were truly alone. "Rose, please, don't say that out loud," You whispered, voice laced with a mixture of embarrassment and fear. Rose chuckled, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

"What's wrong? You're not going to date him, are you?" It was almost as if this was the day you couldn’t stop blushing. Your face turned bright red as you hastily shook her head, your ponytail bobbing in time. "Of course not, I'm just...I'm just saying, he's a great guy, from what I’ve seen, but...but it's just a rule, you know?" Your words tumbled out in a rush, your voice growing more agitated by the second.

Rose's expression turned to understanding, and she reached out to place a reassuring hand on your arm. "I get it, I really do. You've always said no to dating single parents, and I respect that. But...it's just so hard when you're around him, isn't it?" Your eyes dropped, looking away, your face burning with a mix of embarrassment and longing.

Rose's gentle words hung in the air, and you felt your heart racing as you tried to process her emotions. You couldn't deny it - you had felt a flutter in her chest when you saw Jungkook, and it wasn't just because you were worried about being professional around him. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down and rationalize your feelings.

"I don't know, Rose," You said finally, voice barely above a whisper. "It's just...he's really nice, and easy to talk to...it's just hard to ignore the fact that he's Ara’s dad."

Rose nodded understandingly, her expression sympathetic. "I know, I know. And it's not like you can just...ignore the fact that he's cute, either," she added with a sly smile, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

You playfully rolled your eyes, trying to deflect the attention from your flustered state. "Yeah, real help, Rose. You're not making this any easier for me."

Rose laughed, her eyes shining with mirth. "Sorry, sorry. I just want you to be happy, and if that means being around Mr. Hot DILF...I mean, Jungkook...then so be it."

A smile spread across your face, feeling a warmth spread through her chest at her words. "Thanks, Rose. You're a good friend."

As they chatted, you couldn't help but think about Jungkook's warm smile and gentle laugh. You pushed the thoughts away, reminding yourself of the rule and the reasons behind it. But you couldn't shake the feeling that you had crossed a line, and that your attraction to Jungkook was more than just a harmless infatuation.

The lunch bell rang, shattering the peaceful atmosphere in the classroom. As they made their way to the classroom door, Rose leaned in, her voice low and conspiratorial. "Hey, Y/n? Just out of curiosity...what do you think would happen if you did date him?"

Your eyes widened in alarm, and you quickly shot Rose a warning glance. "Rose, don't even say that. I already told you I'm not going to date him, so let's just drop it, okay?"

Rose held up her hands in mock surrender. "Okay, okay. No more talking about Jungkook. Let's just focus on surviving through the day and parent-teacher interviews. How ‘bout that?"

You smiled, feeling a mix of relief and gratitude towards your friend. "Sounds like a plan to me."

______________________________________________________________

The faint echo of footsteps grew louder in the quiet hallway as you straightened up at your desk, glancing at the clock. The dim lights above flickered softly, casting a warm glow that illuminated the classroom filled with colorful student artwork. It was the night of parent-teacher interviews, and your heart raced in anticipation and anxiety. Each appointment was a gateway to success and growth, but tonight felt different. Tonight, you faced the sight of a certain single father…again.

As you set out fresh papers and a cup of coffee—mostly meant to ward off your own nerves—you tried to shake off the flutter twisting in your stomach. You had told Rose you wouldn’t get involved with parents, yet here you were, feeling exhilaratingly torn between professionalism and a sudden spike of anticipation.

The gentle knock on the door pulled you from your swirl of thoughts. “Come in!” you called, your voice steadying to mask your racing heart. The knob turned, and Jungkook stepped inside, his tall figure silhouetted against the hallway light. He looked slightly rumpled in a casual white fisherman’s sweater and jeans, as if he had just finished a long day balancing work and parenting. His sandy hair fell over his forehead, giving him an endearing boyishness.

“Hi, Y/n,” Jungkook said softly, his voice low and a little shy. He shifted between his feet, running a hand through his hair, and for a moment, you felt as though the air in the room thickened with something—tension, attraction, or perhaps, an endless stream of unspoken words.

“Hi, Jungkook! Thank you for coming,” You replied, trying to maintain the professional tone you’d rehearsed in your mind. “Please, have a seat.”

He hesitated for just a moment before sinking into the chair opposite your desk, glancing around the room and admiring the colorful projects that adorned the walls. “It’s nice to see what you’ve done with the place. Ara talks about it all the time,” he said, a smile creeping onto his face that lit up his eyes. 

As you reviewed Ara’s progress report, you couldn’t help but feel Jungkook’s gaze lingering on you, like a gentle warmth wrapping around you. “She’s doing wonderfully, really. She’s bright, creative, and so full of energy,” You continued, your voice flowing with professional ease.

“That’s great to hear,” Jungkook replied, his fingers nervously tapping on the desk. “I mean… I worry about her sometimes, you know? Juggling everything has been—” He paused, biting his lip slightly as if searching for the right words. “—hard. But she loves coming to school.”

In that moment, you could see the affection etched on his face. His love for Ara was so palpable, so tender, that it made your heart swell. “You’re doing an amazing job as a father,” you blurted out before you could catch yourself. 

A flush crept into Jungkook's cheeks, and he chuckled shyly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Thanks. I still feel like I have so much to learn,” he said, glancing away, his honesty disarming you. 

“I think it’s a continuous journey for all parents,” You replied, forcing yourself to ignore the way your heart fluttered at his vulnerability. You forced herself to focus on Ara’s achievements, highlighting the areas where she could improve.

Yet with each laugh Jungkook shared, with each genuine word of praise he offered about his daughter, you found it harder to keep your feelings at bay. The chemistry crackled between them, threatening to bridge the gap of professionalism that you had once held sacred. 

“I don’t know how I can ever thank you for what you do,” Jungkook said suddenly, a sincere expression on his face. “I feel like Ara has blossomed since she started in your class.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Jungkook,” You spoke softly, heart racing as you met his gaze. “It’s my job and my passion.”

He leaned back in the chair, taking a moment before asking softly, “But what about you? Do you… do you enjoy being a teacher?”

You nodded, feeling a stirring inside you—a mix of admiration and a desire for connection that you fought to suppress. “I really do,” you confessed. “It's a rewarding experience, but...” You hesitated for a moment, knowing your feelings threatened to slip from your grasp. “It can be challenging at times.”

“Yeah, life can be tough,” Jungkook replied, his voice low. “But I guess we all find our way through it.”

Their eyes locked for a heartbeat longer than necessary, and you felt an electric jolt, a silent understanding passing between them. But just as quickly, you pulled yourself back, focusing instead on the paperwork scattered across your desk.

“I believe Ara will continue to thrive under your guidance,” Jungkook said, attempting to break the growing tension.

“Absolutely,” You agreed, feeling the flicker of excitement mingled with anxiety. “If you have any concerns, please don’t hesitate to reach out.”

Jungkook smiled, the warmth in his expression making your pulse quicken, and you couldn’t help but smile back, even as reality settled back in. They were from two different worlds, tethered by the innocent bond of a daughter between them, and you knew you had to tread carefully.

“Thank you for your time,” Jungkook finally said, rising from his seat, his voice a blend of gratitude and something softer, like an unexpressed hope. “I really appreciate it.”

As he turned to leave, you felt a mix of longing and resolve. “You’re welcome, Jungkook. Have a great evening,” You managed to say, your heart heavy with unspoken feelings and the sensation of his presence lingering in the room long after he had gone. 

With a sigh, you sank back into your chair, trying to reclaim your professional demeanor, fully aware that this was only the beginning of a journey you had carefully set herself against. And yet, without a doubt, it felt exhilarating and terrifying all at once.

The echo of Jungkook’s footsteps faded down the hallway as you sat back in your chair, staring blankly at the stack of papers on your desk. The soft, dim light of the classroom wrapped around you like a cocoon, but instead of feeling comforted, your thoughts spiraled into chaotic disarray. Your heart still raced at the memory of his shy smile and the way his gaze warmed you, sending unexpected flutters coursing through your chest. 

“Okay, Y/n. Let’s think this through,” you murmured to yourself, pushing your chair back a bit to pace. You took a deep breath, holding your head high as you began your internal debate, your footsteps echoing softly against the tiled floor.

Pros:

1. He’s Kind: Jungkook showed genuine concern for Ara’s well-being; that spoke volumes about his character.

2. He’s a Good Father: Seeing how much he adored his daughter made your heart melt. A man who values family is definitely an attractive trait.

3. We Have Chemistry: The connection was palpable during your meeting, the kind that sent thrills of excitement coursing through you.

Cons:

1. He’s Ara’s Father: You would always have that complex dynamic, which could complicate everything. What if things went wrong? The relationship with Ara would be at stake.

2. Professional Boundaries: As a teacher, you reminded yourself constantly of the boundaries that existed between you and the parents. Getting involved with a parent could lead to gossip and drama.

3. Could She Actually Do This? You didn’t want to enter the dating world and find yourself getting hurt. There was so much at stake, and discretion was key. 

The rhythm of your footsteps quickened, your thoughts tumbling into a whirlwind of confusion. 

“No, no, no.” You held her temples, trying to massage away the tension that gnawed at you. “You can’t think like this. You would be crossing a line, Y/n. Your job is to inspire and educate, not fall for the parents!” 

You paused, catching your breath, feeling the weight of your emotions. “But—what if this is something special?” An involuntary smile sneaked onto your face at the thought of Jungkook’s easy laughter, the way he nervously fidgeted in his chair, and the sincere glances he offered. “What if…he’s different?”

Your heart raced again, and you bit your lip, taking another deep breath to steady yourself. You have dedicated yourself to your career. You loved teaching and the bonds you created with your students. But you also felt the longing for companionship, for someone who would truly understand your heart, your struggles, and your dreams.

You found your way back to the desk, grabbing the paper you had written notes on about Ara. It was filled with nothing but good observations and bright notes that showcased the little girl’s personality. “This is about Ara, too,” you whispered, glancing at the portrait Ara had drawn of you standing beside her at the school. You had never looked better as a stick figure.

“Could I do this?” you inquired softly, staring out the window at the fading sunlight. “Would this be fair to Ara? To him?” You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to visualize yourselves together, the gentle kind heartedness belying a deeper connection that tethered you.

Footsteps interrupted your reverie, and you looked up to see Rose peeking through the door. “Y/n?” she called softly, stepping inside. The infectious energy of her friend brightened the room. “I saw Jungkook leave. How did it go?”

Your internal debate halted as you met Rose's eager gaze, the warmth of friendship wrapping around you like a comforting embrace. “It was... interesting,” You replied slowly, trying to sort through the flood of emotions that threatened to spill over.

“What does that mean? Was he flirty?” Rose raised an eyebrow, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

You shook your head, your cheeks flushing slightly. “No, it wasn’t like that. We just talked about Ara and her progress. But there’s this…connection, Rose. It’s hard to explain.”

“Do you like him?” Rose leaned forward, her excitement palpable, her curiosity evident.

“I don’t know! I mean, I shouldn’t, right?” You sighed, throwing your hands up in exasperation. “He’s Ara’s dad, and I’m her teacher. There are boundaries, Rose!”

“But do you want to explore those boundaries? You said it yourself; it’s a connection!” Rose's voice rose slightly, her enthusiasm inexhaustible. “You only live once, Y/n!”

“Why are you so supportive of this? Are you trying to get me into trouble?” You chuckled, trying to lighten the mood, but you felt the weight of Rose’s words pressing upon you.

“Maybe I am!” Rose teased, crossing her arms. “But look, if you feel something for him, that could be something worth exploring. Relationships don’t always lead to disaster, you know. Sometimes, they lead to wonderful things.” 

You chewed your lip, your heart fluttering at the prospect. “But what if I mess it up? What if I ruin things with Ara and her dad?”

“I think Ara would be happy if he found someone who makes him smile,” Rose asserted confidently. “And if that someone happens to be you...well, then that’s just a bonus!”

Looking down at your desk, pondering the vibrant artwork that Ara had drawn, you felt a gentle surge of hope amidst the confusion. Maybe there was a chance for something beautiful—if you could just take the leap.

“All right,” You said finally, fortifying yourself. “I’ll think about it. But I have to be careful...for Ara’s sake. And for my own.”

“Smart girl.” Rose grinned, her eyes twinkling with excitement. “Now, let’s plan how to help you catch his attention.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the tension lifting slightly as you felt the warmth of Rose’s friendship. As they began to chat and brainstorm about playful ways to show your interest, you felt a new storm of possibility unfurling in your heart—one that you could no longer pretend to ignore. ______________________________________________________________

After leaving your classroom, Jungkook leaned against the cold, tiled wall of the hallway, taking a moment to catch his breath. The sound of his heart thudding loudly in his chest seemed to resonate in the quiet space around him. What just happened? He couldn't shake the feeling of exhilaration mingled with a flicker of anxiety as memories of their conversation flooded his mind. 

He rubbed a hand across his neck, still feeling the heat rising to his cheeks—a bashful evidence of how easily flustered he had become in your presence. Your smile, your laughter, the way your eyes lit up when you spoke about Ara—it was utterly charming. Why did she have to be so captivating?  

His thoughts immediately twisted into a flurry of whims. Honestly, how could someone be so effortlessly beautiful? Your enthusiasm about teaching resonated deep within him; he admired how you handled the classroom, how you brought warmth and light to every interaction. The way you carelessly tucked a strand of hair behind your ear made his heart flutter. He relished in the thought that you cared so deeply for his daughter; it filled him with a swell of appreciation that lingered a little too long in his chest.

But then there was that chemistry, that intoxicating vibe that seemed to hum in the air between them. Jungkook winced slightly, aware that he was entering dangerous territory. Your laugh had tugged at something deep inside him—a longing that he rarely dared to face. Could he be falling for you? The thought was both thrilling and unsettling.

His mind wandered to the moment their eyes met, the way you had smiled at him as if you were sharing a secret, a moment just for the two of them amidst the world. Thoughts he knew he shouldn’t entertain slipped through like silk ribbons, tightening around his chest. What would it feel like to hold her? To run his fingers through her hair, to pull her close and whisper sweet nothings in her ear?

Jungkook pressed his lips together, forcing the blush creeping up his neck to subside. Damn it, Jungkook. Focus on Ara! But the image of you was stubborn, filling his thoughts with mischievous imaginings—your laughter echoing in his ears, your soft, inviting gaze lingering in his mind. 

He imagined you tucked against him on a lazy Sunday morning, sunlight streaming through the window casting dappled shapes on your skin, and he couldn't help but wonder if you would look up at him in that soft, sleepy kind of way—your hair tousled, and that peaceful smile gracing your features. God, he would do anything for that smile.

His heart raced at those thoughts. Was it wrong to want more? The deeper he delved into his fantasies, the more he wondered if he could truly let someone in again. The idea of developing a connection with you was thrilling but terrifying. 

But what if it went well? What if he got to know the woman behind the teacher façade? What if they clicked like he suspected they might? A sudden image of their hands intertwined danced in his mind, the warmth radiating from your soft fingers sending shivers down his spine. He imagined kissing you—a slow, intimate exploration that left you both breathless, your hearts racing in sync.

His body reacted even to the thought, and Jungkook groaned softly, shaking his head at the direction his mind had taken. He just wanted to know more about you—the fear and the thrill of the unknown gnawing at him as he paced in place. Was he ready to join the dating world again? To risk his heart?

Jungkook glanced down the hallway, half-expecting you to appear again with that mesmerizing smile. He exhaled slowly, trying to calm the whirlwind that churned within him. You had met as teacher to parent, you were cautious in your own ways, but there was something in your gaze, the spark of possibility daring him to breach the barrier.

“Just take it slow,” he whispered to himself, trying to ignore the overwhelming desire unfurling within him like a curtain drawn back to reveal a dazzling stage. “She’s worth it.” 

In his mind’s eye, he could see your face, lit with warmth and kindness, exhibited perfectly in the classrooms where you worked magic with children. But he wanted you outside of the school, in the real world, where they could be themselves.

With another deep breath, he turned and walked away from the classroom, his heart still racing and the ambitious thoughts whirling inside his mind. The night air hit him like a splash of cold water, grounding him, reminding him that this was just the beginning of something he knew could change everything. And as he left the school grounds, he couldn't shake the feeling that he wanted to do whatever it took to make sure he saw you again. ______________________________________________________________

The restaurant was awash in golden candlelight, casting flickering shadows on the walls adorned with tasteful art. The hum of conversation intermingled with the clinking of silverware, creating a cozy atmosphere that settled around the tables like a warm embrace. Jungkook had arrived early, wearing a fitted navy sweater that accentuated his figure and dark jeans—not too formal, but just enough to speak of a thoughtful effort. Tonight was important.

He twisted his napkin nervously in his lap as he surveyed the room, his gaze darting to the entrance. How do you prepare for a date with someone you genuinely like? It had been several weeks since they started talking, gradually letting layers peel away to reveal their authentic selves, and now here they were, on the brink of something new. 

As if summoned by his thoughts, you walked in, your presence radiant in a deep emerald dress that hugged your curves and made you look effortlessly elegant. Your hair cascaded in soft waves, and when their eyes met, a bright smile danced across your lips—a smile that made Jungkook’s heart skip a beat.

“Hey,” you greeted, your voice warm and inviting as you approached the table.

“Hey! You look amazing,” Jungkook found himself saying, his cheeks warming at the earnestness in his tone. 

“Thanks! You too!” You replied, taking your seat across from him, the evening lighting casting a gentle glow on your features. 

Jungkook tried to shake off the nerves, but it was hard not to stumble over his words as their waiter arrived. “Good evening! Can I start you off with something to drink?” 

“Uh, yes! I’d like a glass of red wine, please,” Jungkook said, his hands fidgeting on the table beneath the napkin.

“Same for me,” You chimed in, your openness making it easier for him to remember how to breathe. 

As they sipped their wine and exchanged laughter, they discussed everything—their favorite movies, childhood memories, and even the quirks of teaching that made them both laugh aloud. But as the conversation flowed, Jungkook felt the slight pressure of anticipation build in his chest, the electric tension flickering like a candle in the wind.

“So, what’s been the best part of your week?” he asked, hoping to keep the conversation light while his nerves simmered beneath the surface.

You leaned forward, eyes sparkling. “Well, this week we were doing some more basic spelling skills. And there was one point, where I said that our class was gonna have a small spelling bee competition against the other Kindergarten class. Ara took it a little too seriously, she started buzzing like a bee after every word she spelled.”

Jungkook chuckled, picturing the adorable scene. “Oh God, is that why she came home and couldn’t stop buzzing around? I mean, at least she’s remembering to spell more words correctly…she rewards herself by buzzing a little each time.”

“Well, she does have a great teacher,” you teased, your eyes locking onto his with that playful glimmer.

Jungkook felt the heat rushing up his neck. “I’m just trying to keep up with your class levels,” he said with a grin. 

Their connection felt tangible, fragile yet electric. Jungkook summoned his courage as the waiter returned with their meals. “It looks great. I hope it tastes great,” he said, lifting his fork, eager to divert his nervous energy.

As they began to eat, Jungkook was distraught to discover that his mouth seemed to have developed a mind of its own. “So, I was thinking maybe—I mean, if you’re interested—” he stumbled through the heavy words, glancing at her, “we could visit that new art exhibit next weekend? Or maybe a picnic? I’m definitely up for a picnic.” 

Your brows raised in surprise, a smile breaking across your face. “I’d love that! An art exhibit sounds fantastic.”

Jungkook exhaled, relief washing over him. They continued chatting, light and airy, until a relaxed silence fell between them. An idea struck him, and he leaned closer, teasingly, “You know, you’re making this date really easy. I thought I’d be sweating bullets.”

Just as the words left his mouth, careless and relaxed, he slipped. “I guess I just feel comfortable, baby girl…” 

His voice trailed off in horror as his brain caught up with his mouth. Did he really just call you that? His cheeks blazed a deep shade of crimson, eyes widening as he braced himself for your reaction.

You blinked, pausing mid-bite, amusement dancing in your eyes. “Wow, that was unexpected. Do I look like a baby girl to you?” 

Jungkook’s face burned, a thousand apologies spiraling through his mind. “I-I didn’t mean it like—! I mean, you’re—!” He stumbled over his words, rendering himself a stammering mess. 

You couldn’t help but chuckle, clearly amused, leaning forward as if to ease his embarrassment. “It’s okay, Jungkook. I kinda liked it, actually. It’s sweet.”

His initial panic spilled over into relief, but the flirty undertone hung between them, making the air around them more charged. Under the table, his heart raced as he played with the hem of his own sweater, unsure whether he was feeling flustered or exhilarated.

He took a deep breath, trying to regain control. “Well, um, you are adorable, so I guess it fits—just not in the way I set it up!” 

“Do you think I’m adorable, huh?” You teased, your playful confidence radiating from you. Your gaze held a challenge, one that made his heart race anew. 

“Not just adorable,” he clarified, leaning in slightly, feeling the heat of her presence. “You’re… captivating. Thoughtful. Kind. And it’s…” he hesitated, a smirk creeping onto his face, “dangerously charming.” 

You bit your lip, eyes glimmering with intrigue, every inch of your body language inviting him closer. “Dangerously charming, huh? Is that a compliment or a warning?” 

“Both,” Jungkook said, letting the tension linger in the air, a quiet challenge exchanged between them. As if he were testing the waters before diving in. “How about you tell me something about yourself that could potentially get us both in trouble?” 

This time, you laughed, and it echoed around their cozy corner of the restaurant. The flirtation was undeniable, thickening the air as they engaged in the dance of unspoken desires. Finally, it seemed like this date might indeed lead somewhere—somewhere beautifully unexpected, where the two of them could explore the chemistry that had sparked between them.

With their plates nearly empty and glasses refilled, you glanced over at him, a light blush dusting over your cheeks. Under the table, you let your foot caress up and down his calf, watching how he paused halfway through paying for the bill to look at you with a tilted head. You turned your head away, resting it in your palm as you continued your movements, hearing how Jungkook’s breathing changed from light and even to heavier and quicker.

“What’re you doing…?” He asked quietly, cheeks burning a red colour as he sunk into his chair a little more. You shrugged your shoulders, looking away again, the intensity of the situation making it hard to stare directly at him. 

The sound of chair legs scraping against the floor made you finally look back at him. His cheeks were a dark red, a hand extended towards you as he helped you out of your chair, pushing it in before slowly walking with you. A shaky hand was placed around your waist, sending tingles all throughout your body, it was clear Jungkook was nervous, but it was also clear he wanted something else. Craved something else.

“Jungkook, are yo-”

“Do you want to come back to my place?” He asked hurriedly but softly, his eyes  staring into yours as he waited for your response. “I know it’s inappropriate to ask, especially since it’s only our first date, but you just…you look really good in your dress, like, really, really good- and…and…” 

He looked as if he were about to lose his mind if you didn’t speak soon. You carefully cupped his face, brushing your thumbs along his cheeks as you spoke. “Hey, relax…it’s okay. You can breathe…” You calmed him down, his hands coming up to hold your forearms gently, taking in deep breaths. “I..I would love to…go back to your place, I mean. But…what about Ara?”

“She’s with her uncles…Namjoon and Jin promised to look after her.” He said breathlessly, his eyes looking everywhere on your face at once, taking in as much detail as possible as if he were trying to engrain an image of you into his mind.

“Am I supposed to know who those people are, or?” He shook his head, a small laugh escaping his lips as he leaned forward, resting his forehead against yours before pulling away.

“They’re my friends that helped me raise her. Also work at the cafe.” He mumbled, bouncing a little as he looked at the parking lot. “ I really love sharing things with you, but I’m about to lose my mind if I don’t have you soon…so…my car is over there.” He said, pointing over to a black car parked a little further away from the restaurant. 

There wasn’t a lot of time between getting in the car, the drive to his place, and getting inside his place. As soon as you stepped foot inside the threshold, Jungkook was grabbing you, needy hands grabbing at your waist as he  looked at you, quietly asking for permission to kiss you. You barely nodded before he gently pressed his lips against yours, the kiss was firm yet soft, everything you expected from him.

“God…” He whispered against your lips, cupping your face as he kissed you again, groaning from how good you were. “You’re so perfect…so, so perfect.”

A soft giggle escaped you, pulling back so you were face to face with him, “You’ve barely kissed me, how can you know I’m perfect?” You asked, following mindlessly as he dragged you to the bedroom.

“Because.”

“Because?”

“Yes, ‘because.’ Don’t ruin the moment.”

You could hear the smile in his voice as he kissed you again, lifting you slightly to place you on the bed. His hands moved to your waist, squeezing and kneading the flesh under your dress. His lips slowly moved from your lips to your jaw, peppering soft kisses all along your skin. His left hand grabbed your chin, turning your head to the side so he had more room to find the spots that made you shiver. “Your skin’s so soft, baby girl…”

The feeling of his lips latching onto your skin made you shiver, feeling the slight suction as he sucked a mark into your skin, his tongue soothing the area afterwards. He hovered above you, arms propping himself up so he didn’t squish you completely, not that you’d mind. 

“Fuck…Jungkook…” You whimpered, feeling him smirk against your skin. He pulled away, eyes meeting yours as he pressed another soft kiss to your lips. 

“Can I take your dress off?” If he wasn’t breathless before, he sure was now, panting as he waited for permission. “Please, I wanna see your pretty body, baby.”

You managed to nod, propping yourself up so he could reach back and unzip your dress. His fingers gently grasped your sleeves, pulling the forward as the top half of your dress slid off your body. The sound that left his lips made your panties damper than before, his eyes focused solely on your bare breasts. “Oh shit…no bra?”

“Didn’t have one that worked with the dress.” You replied, finding it hard to stare at him head on. Jungkook seemed to notice this, his hands cupping your face again, focusing on your eyes as he spoke softly.

“Hey, you don’t have to be embarrassed or anything…you have the hottest body ever. Like, ever. I mean, you just showed me your bare tits and I almost came.” With his admission his cheeks tinted pink, but he didn’t pay any mind to it, instead focusing on you. “If you ever feel uncomfortable, just tell me. Okay? I’ll stop right away.” 

His gaze slowly went back to your tits, his thumbs resting just under your breasts, brushing against the soft skin before fully grasping them in his hands. You let out a breathless moan, eyes fluttering closed as you relished in his touch. It wasn’t long after that he had you out of that dress and your panties, being stripped down to only his boxers himself. His face was level with your pussy, lips pressing soft kisses against your inner thighs as he edged closer and closer to the place you needed him most. 

He darted his tongue out, licking a stripe down your folds, before making contact with your clit. The moans you let out egged him on more, pressing his face further into your cunt without any care in the world. The sloppy sounds that came from his mouth on your pussy was borderline pornographic. He used his fingers to part your folds, paying as much attention to your clit as possible. After a few minutes he pulled back, taking a few quick breaths before tugging you closer to the edge of the bed. He noticed the way you were gripping the sheets, how your eyes were screwed shut in pleasure.

“Aww, are you close, baby girl? Does my good girl wanna cum?” He taunted, and all you could do was whine and nod.

Your eyes were glossy as you opened them again, looking down at him to see the bottom half of his face covered in your juices. “Please… Please, wanna cum…wanna cum for you…” You moaned, blindly reaching for one of his hands. 

He got the idea, intertwining your fingers with his as he rested them just above your pelvic bone. He nipped at your inner thigh before licking another bold stripe up your sensitive folds, sucking your clit into his mouth. His tongue flicked over it slowly, steadily changing the rhythm to a pace that would bring you to the edge in an instant. With a few more flicks of his tongue, he had you coming undone on his tongue, slurping up every little bit of juice that leaked  from your hole.

You laid on the bed, limp and breathless as you looked at him, watching him stand up straight and wipe the rest of your juices that were on his face on the back of his hand. “How’re you doing, baby?” He asked softly, kissing your cheeks a few times to make sure you were still with him. 

You hummed softly, nodding as you pushed yourself up, connecting your lips with his in a slow and sensual kiss. Your hand snaked down to his boxers, barely rubbing against his hard-on before he grabbed your wrist gently. “If you do that, I’m gonna cum. And I want to cum while I’m inside you…”

The pout that formed on your face was inevitable, but you agreed, “Fine…but next time, you have to let me return the favour.”

His smirk grew as you insinuated there would be a next time. “Fine. Next time.” He kissed you again, fingers tangling in your hair as he groped your breasts again, groaning into the kiss. “I’m never gonna get over how soft your tits are…wanna fuck them.” He panted, rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. 

A breathless giggle escaped you, “Maybe next time…” He took the answer you gave him, kissing you once more before flipping you to be on your hands and knees, your face pressed into the mattress as he grabbed at your ass.

“Fuck, is there anything about you that isn’t perfect?” When he saw you turn your head and part your lips to respond, he spanked your cheek gently, grabbing it to massage after. “Don’t answer that.”

It almost happened too quickly, he got the condom, slipped it on and pushed into you gently, rocking his hips into yours to make sure you adjusted to him properly. His hand reached under you, cooing at you to part your legs slightly so he could play with your clit. The sensations of his fingers stimulating your clit mixed with the rocking of his cock in you, you were a lost cause. 

“Mm, f-feels…so good…” You moaned into the mattress, feeling him speed up more, probably trying to chase his own high as well. Your walls fluttered around him, making him groan deeply, leaning forward to press a kiss between your shoulder blades. “Yeah? S’my cock that good for your little pussy? Hmm? Fuck, you take me so well…”

You whined, your walls tightening more around him, that knot in your lower belly slowly becoming too much to handle. “F- fuck…K-Kook, m’gonna cum…” You said in a high pitched tone, trying to hold back for him for as long as possible.

“Shhh, it’s okay, baby girl. Let go for me. I’m right there with you…” He encouraged you, thrusting into you faster as he kept rubbing your clit. Your moans melded together as you both came undone.

He kept pumping into you until he was sure you were satisfied, a gentle hand coming to your hips to stabilize you as he pulled out, listening to your soft whine. He hushed you sweetly, laying your hips down to the mattress as he quickly disposed of the used condom. He came back to the bed, curling up behind you, nuzzling his face into your neck as he breathed in your scent. 

“Mmm, you’re so pretty…” He whispered drowsily, smiling softly as he heard you giggle. He loved that sound so much.

“Sure, I look so pretty with messy hair and sweat covering my body.” You groaned, shifting to get more comfortable. It was his turn to chuckle, his arms wrapping around you tighter.

“Yes, you do.” The moment of peace was disrupted by the doorbell ringing. He furrowed his brows, looking at you before towards the bedroom door. “Give me a minute, I’ll go see who it is.” He murmured, kissing your temple softly before getting up and pulling on his boxers from before. 

He was gone for a few minutes, quiet chatter echoing through the house, but it wasn’t loud enough for me to hear. You wrapped the sheet around your body, tugging it securely around you as you got closer to the bedroom door. Then you could hear it, Jungkook’s voice stern and low, something you hadn’t heard from him before. But who was he talking to like that? And then you understood…

“I want to see my daughter.”

[fishnapple]

New friendship, who are they?

I tested out a new set of beads for this reading. It was really fun.

This is a general reading meant for multiple people. Take only what resonates and leave out the rest.

Your feedback is much appreciated. If you find the reading resonated with you, leave a comment, I’d love to know 🎐

About me | Masterpost

Book a reading with me - KO-FI (→ personal reading)

BLACK

This might be someone who has their North node conjunct your ASC. You will be a breath of fresh air to them, they will want to learn a lot from you, at the same time, feeling a little bit out of their depth and uncomfortable. Your way of acting is completely different from their usual friends and your outlooks are also different from theirs. But they will sense that they can grow with you, you embody the path that they need to take. They're likely younger than you or less experienced than you.

They're a hardworking individual with a serious mindset. I think they can be pretty quiet, timid at times. They think a lot before they talk and consider the consequences of their words. You probably won't have much success in trying to small talking them. They might even seem closed-off, so frivolous chit-chat seems out of the question. But their attitude will change when you approach them with more serious topics, an agenda in mind, maybe you could ask for their help or they could ask for yours, a great excuse to start a conversation. They can be pretty stubborn in defending their viewpoint, so don't poke fun of them.

You're likely to meet them at your workplace or where they are working. They could be providing a certain service to you, frequently, so you begin to talk more to each other. You might casually mention one of your hobbies and you guys would click. And from that point onward, there will be opportunities to expand your social circle, you or them will introduce each other to their circle of shared interests. It will take time to get close to this person, even when both of you have the desire to get to know each other. They hide a lot of their more sensitive and soft side, I think that by being friend with you, they will have a chance to bring out this side more. This group is quite short because there's still a lot for this person to uncover and learn about themselves, they haven't come to their true sense of self yet. This person will look up to you a lot. In turn, they will boost your confidence and make you feel appreciated.

★Possible astrology placements: Aries, Scorpio Sun/ Sun conjunct Pluto, Pluto in 1st house, Moon in Taurus/Moon in 2nd house, Saturn in 3rd house, Mercury in Capricorn, Venus in Pisces, Mars in Cancer

SILVER

I get a strong Sagittarius or Jupiter energy from this new friend. They have a strong yet very graceful character that will inspire you a lot.

This friend will come in when you are about to turn a new page in your life, ready for a new phase. The moment you're about to step out of your comfort zone, the universe will introduce you to them, so that you will have an easier time adapting to changes. They will help you unravel the knot in your psyche. Whatever hangups you are having, they will work with you to address them. They will be stern and blunt about it, there's no getting away. At times, you will feel so triggered by them that you want to quit, to end this connection, but fate will keep you guys together and you will be grateful for their perseverance and faith in this friendship.

The first thing you will notice about them is their voice and the way they talk. They could be a fast talker, animated in their gestures and have a lively, mischievous expression. They are a compelling conversationalist, you won't get bored talking to them, exchanging ideas with them will be a joy, an eye-opening experience. Because they will expand your mind, introduce you to many subjects that before that, you had thought uninteresting, but through them, through their enthusiasm, you will find a new interest for these subjects.

You guys might work together or in the same environment a lot. There's a sense of helping each other, walking together side by side. You probably will travel a lot with them. This will be an equal relationship, there's a balanced give and take between you.

This person could have changed their home a lot. They don't have a very stable ground to rely on. They can have an air of being standoffish, but that's just their independent energy. But they can feel lonely easily. They feel that something about them is different from everyone around them, even their families don't understand them enough.

You might observe that they tend to fight against social standards, what's trending, they hate being a follower, mindlessly doing something just because everyone else is doing it. So they definitely stay away from those famous places with 5 stars reviews on Google. They can also be misunderstood a lot by their friends and the groups they are in, accused of being individualistic. This saddens them, but they won't back down for it. Popularity is not their goal. If you're someone who is struggling with fitting in, being yourself in a group setting, then you can learn a lot from this person. In turn, you will provide a rare sense of recognition for their honest heart.

★Possible astrology placements: Sagittarius, Gemini, Aquarius placements, Jupiter in 7th house, Jupiter in Libra, Pluto in 10th house, Aquarius ASC, Sun/Mars in 11th house, Mars in Aquarius, Sun in Pisces

TEAL

This friend will come into your life during the period when you think everything is moving so slowly, there's barely any progress or anything exciting. They will prove you wrong. You will most likely meet them at work or on the way to work, or at an institution. You could have noticed each other before but didn't really pay attention. It would take an event or a third person to properly introduce you.

It will be a slow start, you won't click immediately, I sense that your temperaments can be different from each other's. You will find them a little mysterious, watchful, they seem to be the type that prefers to stay silent at first to assess the situation and the other person better. You would hear about or sense something spiritual in them. They might have a different religious beliefs or they practice an occult art. They could speak a different language, came from a foreign country or have travelled very far from home. You will be mystified and intrigued, but a little intimidated. There could be a period of time at first when you just silently observe each other without making a move. I think the first person to break the silence will be you and they will breathe a sigh of relief. You seem to be more carefree and at ease with yourself than this person, and seem younger too, even if just in spirit.

You will have many philosophical discussions with this friend. The way they talk is wise and gentle. They have an innate understanding of how things work, they probe for deep meaning and open to myriad kinds of experiences. They could have a very profound effect on your mind, asking you questions that you've never thought of before, but they will not be confrontional about it, they just want to ask the question and leave the pondering and thinking to you, the answer is not as important as the acceptance of the question.

They might have moved their living space a lot or rarely stayed at home. They're a nomad, always on the move. They like to travel, explore, could be with their friends, which they have a lot, or alone, they are fine with both.

You will admire their honest way of expressing themselves, their energy feels pure and straightforward, what they show is what you get. Even though they seem so serene and calm, later you will learn that they have been hurt a lot in the past. They might have a fear about commitment, past relationships failed them, so they can be more cautious in this area. You will bring a lot of joy to them, they will find your way of living refreshing and fun, they will want to learn a thing or two about your hobbies and taking them up. You guys will talk about all kinds of things, share the silliest jokes, being ridiculous with each other without care.

★Possible astrology placements: prominent Sagittarius, Taurus, Aquarius placements, Jupiter in 3rd house, Sun in 9th house, Saturn aspects, Moon in 11th house

BLUE

You might be intimidated by them at first but attracted nevertheless. They will remind you of someone you knew in the past or someone in your family.

This person has a strong and intense aura, they are the type that takes no bs from people and set in their way. They would wear a lot of black and red colour and look good in them. Their style would be bold but minimalist. They don't like to adorn themselves with unnecessary things and prefer a neat style for easy movement and activities. Yes, they will love to move a lot, they are active physically and need lots of mental and physical exercises to release the pent-up energy inside them, which is a lot.

You would meet them in a public place, could be a company building, an institution. Maybe when you're going on a business trip or study abroad, or going to museums, conferences, the lecture hall. You will immediately be impressed by their vibrant aura. They seem so self assured, confident, but oddly enough, they don't seem to be comfortable around a crowd. I wouldn't be surprised if they have encountered some jealousy or backstabbing in the past. The crowd doesn't usually go easy on an individualistic person.

They will complement you perfectly. When you feel nervous, they will be strong and confident for you, when you feel down, they will light up your spirit, when you are confused, they will sit you down and talk some sense into you. And I think you will do that for them too. They are an extremely loyal friend. Fiercely protective of their close ones. Their protection is gentle but firm. They will peer into your core and unearth every secret and dark corner that you have. But they won't use it against you. You will feel seen and understood. Just remember never to betray them or cross their boundaries, they can unleash hell on you. This is the kind of person that you want to be friend with, not make an enemy out of them.

They could have talents with words, with musical instruments, with painting. They have a sensitive artistic soul that can perceive the tiniest beauty and capture it into a lasting existence. Their mind can be whimsical but disciplined. They know how to apply rules and methods to ground an idea.

Jokes and laughter are important to them. They like mental games, various kinds of entertainment. They probably have some interesting hobbies that you will want to learn and explore them yourself. Watching them doing something will be inspirational. You will want to encourage them to show themselves more to the world to see, to shine brighter than they already are.

★Possible astrology placements: Aries, Leo, Scorpio placements, 5th house stellium, Pluto in 7th house, Mars in 1st house, Mars in Aries, Aries ASC, Pisces Venus/ Mercury, Capricorn Mercury

AMBER

This new friend could be your future travel buddy. I see one person is leading another to go on a trip. Travel and learning will be the centre of your connection with this person.

The first thing you will notice about this person is that they have a glibness to them. They could talk fast, walk fast, change subjects mid sentence, rambling on and on. But it will be fascinating to watch and listen to them. They could be younger than you, more playful, less care about the mundane, practical world around them. This person will be a bag of infinite fun to you. With them, you will be more relaxed and enjoy yourself more, you guys would think up mischievous bets and games to entertain each other. I keep seeing the image of two kids having fun everywhere they go.

But don't mistake this for their lack of depth. In fact, they are a lot more mysterious and spiritual than meet the eyes. Their approach to life is carefree but philosophical, they believe that doing good deeds will be rewarded. They believe in serendipity, in life's goodness and abundance, this makes them lucky, it's like a team of spirits is having their back. You would think this person is free of worry. They even think so, too, but they're haunted by dreams and nightmares, their worries and fears lie deep down in their psyche. You have to probe carefully to get a glimpse of that. But they likely won't let you do it, they will dazzle you with stories, with adventures that make you forget the elusive nagging feeling of something is amiss.

They're lucky but they're not lazy. They're actually a very hard worker and you will admire their work ethics. Financial security is very important to them. Sometimes to the point of obsession. They work hard and play hard. There could be an over indulgence of some kind. They can be a spendthrift one moment, then make a completely random purchase (and regret about it later). This person probably like to buy little trinkets or bathroom products (they will gift you a lot of that too). They take good care of their hygiene and are very neat. Their house might be swamped with little things, but they will be well organised and aesthetically pleasing.

You might meet them when you go for a vacation, a trip. I see a large body of water so it could be a lake, a river, the beach, the aquarium.

★Possible astrology placements: Gemini, Libra placements with strong Jupiter and 9th house influence, Mars in Taurus/Mars in 2nd house, Sagittarius ASC, Moon in Sagittarius, Venus in Virgo/Venus in 6th house, Sun in 3rd house

LILAC

You would meet this new friend when you travel back to somewhere you had lived there before or the place where you were born. Also you could meet them through a female figure, likely your mum or your sister, a close female friend. They might introduce you to each other or you will meet this person when you're travelling with that female figure. This could be a surprise encounter for you. You might have travelled to this place often but this will be the first time you see them there. Another scenario is a business trip, but the presence of a female figure will still be there.

This person could have an intimidating reputation. They could be a boss, or in charge of an important position in their workplace. Whatever they do, people notice them easily. They could look a little scary at first sight. Their features are sharp, and they favour a darker style. Fierce and confident. You will probably feel nervous when meeting them for the first time, being subjected to their gaze. You would feel your capability and proficiency are being assessed silently. You might have to work with this person, the connection would be strictly professional at first. They can be strict, demand a lot and don't like to talk about trivial matters. They're probably a person of few words.

But strangely, I don't think you will feel uncomfortable in their presence later, when you're friend with each other. If any, they could even make you feel more confident and more carefree. Even though they prize capability and have a high standard, they are also benevolent and can be quite forgiving. They might only act like this with a few people, those that have passed their assessments. You guys could remind each other of someone close, there's a sense of familiarity, being at ease with each other, as if you've been friends for a long time. This connection could happen suddenly, but it has the potential to remain strong and long-lived.

You might notice that they have some trouble voicing their thoughts. There is a pain hidden deep inside them, and you will feel compassionate for it. Sometimes you could even act as their spokesperson, helping them communicate better. You guys will become the unlikely sanctuary for each other, no matter how much different you look outside.

★Possible astrology placements: Capricorn, Scorpio placements, Mercury in 8th house, Mercury-Saturn aspect, Sun/Mars in 10th house/ in Capricorn, Sagittarius Venus, Mars-Pluto conjunction, Sun-Moon conjunction

[librarygarten]

I would not be able to shut up about Zelda lore. I'd be mentioning the Links the Chain hasn't met yet, or how Ganondorf's hair keeps getting longer with each iteration, and especially the timeline! I'd be turning to Legend and Four and saying that according to Nintendo, they're a bunch of Links conflated together (Four Swords before Time and Adventures after Twilight what???) and then turning to Warriors to say that his game isn't canon to the timeline. SEND HELP

Literally same. I swear I would be the most annoying person ever. I'd be telling them about all the fan theories, giving them all an existential crisis. (Because IMAGINE if Wind found out some people don't think he has the hero's spirit. Or if Sky found out some people think Demise's curse is the reason every other Link had to deal with Ganon.) This was going to be a short little blurb but... yeah you get a whole two pages. This is what you get for feeding my hyper fixation, anon.

“You know about all our adventures and the impact my actions specifically had on the timeline.” Time’s face was unreadable. His usually serious demeanor had a much colder edge to it. And it was directed at you.

You take a breath. He had been a bit stand-offish when you had joined the group. He had been upset when you spoke about how the chain’s adventures were games in your universe. You suspected he began outright avoiding you after that. You had thought there had been an unspoken but mutual understanding that his games were something not to be spoken of. Nothing could prepare you for this conversation, especially with the rest of the chain within earshot. Still, he had spoken to you. Directly to you. Which was progress, even if the subject matter was… this.

“Yeah.” You try to seem nonchalant. Your voice crack ruins the effect somewhat.

“Explain, then. Knowing how we,” Time motions to the rest of the group, “all fit together might help us face the creature we’ve been fighting.”

“Oh, that might get a bit complicated. Some of the games y’all appear in aren’t canon.” You smile nervously. “And some of you guys seem to be multiple games combined? Like, you have two games, and that makes sense because Majora’s Mask was meant to be a sequel to Ocarina of Time. But, for example, in the official timeline The Minish Cap and Four Swords take place before the timeline split, while Four Swords Adventures happens after it, even though all three games seem to be Four’s adventures.”

“Wait, what?” Four perked up at the mention of his name. “How does that make sense? I used the Four Sword about a year or so after my time with the Picori. How can those two games have things between them?”

“Hoooo boy.” You pressed your lips together, trying to summon the restraint necessary to give a tactful answer. You looked at Time, then Four, then at the rest of the chain, whose attention was focused solely on you. Screw it. They asked.

“The company that created the games, Nintendo, published a book with an official timeline in it. The timeline begins with Skyward Sword, after which Sky and his Zelda kind of found what will eventually become Hyrule and *ahem* start the royal family.” You ramble on, choosing not to comment on the way Sky chokes on his own spit. “Then, the Minish Cap happens. And according to Nintendo, the next game, Four Swords, has a completely different Link. After Four Swords, the events of Ocarina of Time happen, where a TON of time travel shenanigans happen.”

Time coughs. You keep talking.

“During Ocarina of Time, Time defeated Ganondorf as a teenager. His Zelda then sent him back in time to prevent Ganondorf from ever getting the Triforce in the first place, but this didn’t erase the other timeline. Thus, there are two timelines: Time’s original that he was removed from and the new one where Ganondorf was never really an issue.”

You get out a stick, drawing lines in the dirt to illustrate your point.

“Now, in the timeline that Time left, Ganondorf eventually came back. That’s what set’s up the events of Wind Waker and Phantom Hourglass. Also in this timeline is a game called Spirit Tracks. The Link from that game isn’t here, but Wind’s Zelda’s granddaughter is that Link’s Zelda.”

“WAIT WHAT?” Wind shouted, temporarily snapping you out of your rant. Oh shoot. How long have you been rambling? You turned your attention to Wind.

“What’s up, sailor?” You point at him with the stick in your hand, as if you were a school teacher lecturing on a subject and not a gamer with way too much free time.

“Tetra had KIDS?” Wind scrunches his face up, as if disgusted by the thought of his best friend reproducing.

“Yes, that is how grandchildren work.” You tap your stick against the end of the line you had drawn. “Anyway, that’s about it for that timeline. As far as I know, Wind stabbing Ganondorf in the face actually killed the guy for once.”

“Wait, WIND is the one who actually finished off Ganon?” Legend pipes up.

“Why do you sound so surprised!?” Wind fires back indignantly.

“MOVING ON!” You shout, redirecting the group's attention back to you. “In the timeline Time went back to and fixed, he has another game, Majora’s Mask. He then settles down and has a kid, who has a kid, etc. etc., then we get Twilight and his game, Twilight Princess. Time is kind of a dickwad in that game, but we don’t have time to unpack that.”

“Hold on.” Time puts up a hand, trying to stop you from continuing. He looks… extremely worried. Twilight looks as if he just swallowed a frog.

“Nope, moving on!” You use your stick to quickly lower Time’s arm. “Twilight actually also killed Ganondorf, but the bastard went and got resurrected. Vaati also shows up again randomly, and that’s how Four Swords Adventures happens.”

“What about me and Legend?” Hyrule raises his hand politely.

“Ah, you guys are from a timeline where Time died in his final fight with Ganondorf.”

“I’M SORRY WHAT?” Twilight and Time shout at almost the same time.

“Yep. That’s what started the Sealing War. Time’s Zelda and the sages sealed Ganondorf away. Then we have Legend’s games, which have two different orders, both of which were published by Nintendo. It either goes A Link to the Past, Oracle of Seasons/Ages, then Link's Awakening, or Link’s Awakening, then Oracle of Seasons/Ages.”

“Why the different order? Doesn’t ‘Nintendo’ know?” Legend smirks, as if he had won against this strange other-worldly company that had reduced him to a child’s game.

“Well, they published the first version, but because Link’s Awakening was the last game for you, fans thought you died at sea.” You explain. Legend’s smirk disappears as the color drains from his face.

“Anyway, according to Nintendo, the next game is A Link Between Worlds, which is a different Link. After that, it’s Hyrule’s games: The Legend of Zelda and The Legend of Zelda 2: The Adventure of Link. Then that’s it for the downfall timeline.”

“What about me?” Wild sheepishly points to himself.

“Nobody knows. Nintendo says they’re after Four Swords Adventures OR Spirit Tracks. Personally, I think after FSA makes more sense, but we DEFINITELY shouldn’t get into theory territory right now.”

“I’m guessing my game is the same? No clear timeline placement because of all the different timelines mixing together?” Warriors rolls his eyes as he says it, as if annoyed he doesn’t have an official timeline placement.

“No, actually. Your entire game was more fanservice than anything. Nintendo doesn’t even consider it canon.”

“WHAT?”

^ Y/N explaining the timeline to the chain be like

[chaos-in-shibuya]

My roommates concert (+18)

Geto x fem/afab reader

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: After two months of being roommates, and kissing on the first day you met, you and Geto have grown close, enjoying each other's company without crossing any lines. But one night, when you go to watch him perform at a small gig, everything changes. A quiet moment backstage leads to something unexpected, leaving you both questioning where things will go from there.

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒: fluff, bassist geto, jealousy, slow burn, nsfw, longing, sexual tension, teasing, foreplay, body worship, oral sex (female receiving) unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, creampie

𝐖.𝐂: 6.7K 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐗𝐓: the contents of this story are a part 2 to this one. make sure you read it first. ♡

You had been Sugurus roomate for two months now, and while neither of you had labeled anything, there was definitely something there.

The air between you had shifted.

There was a comfort in being around him, but the tension from that first kiss still lingered.

Not only that, but nothing else had happened between you two since.

You were sitting on the couch, legs tucked under you, scrolling through your phone as Geto tuned his bass across the room.

He had been talking about an upcoming small gig for a couple of days, and that night had finally come.

“It’s nothing special,” he said, looking over at you as he plucked at the strings. “Just a few guys from my old band, jamming at this little place we used to play at back in the day.”

You smiled, watching him, noting the excitement in his eyes that he was trying to play off as casual. “You seem pretty excited for it to be nothing special.”

He chuckled, shaking his head as he adjusted the strap on his bass. “I mean, it’s been a while. I’m just looking forward to it, I guess. And, you know…” He hesitated, glancing over at you. “It’s cool that you’re coming to watch.”

You felt a small warmth spreading through your chest at his words. “I wouldn’t miss it. Gotta see if you’re as good as you say,” you teased, earning a smirk from him.

As you headed out together, the energy between you felt comfortable but charged, the same way it had been for weeks.

There clearly was something going on between the two of you that surpassed the lines of being just roommates, but neither of you had made a move to define it.

Two months of living together, and you had both settled into an easy routine.

Sharing meals, hanging out, talking late into the night, but always with that tension in the air surrounding you, just beneath the surface.

You were sitting at a small, dimly lit table in the back of a bar, chatter and clinking glasses filling the space around you.

The place had a grungy, intimate vibe, with faded posters on the walls and a few scattered tables occupied by groups of friends, mostly locals.

You sipped your drink, trying to shake off the slight nervousness bubbling in your chest.

You had never seen Geto perform before, and even though he had mentioned it casually, you could tell playing meant a lot to him.

The lights were dimmed, and the stage at the front of the room was lit by a single spotlight.

It was almost time for the band to start, and as the minutes ticked by, your anticipation built. Your eyes scanned the room.

There were all kinds of people there, some your age, others older but clearly all were there for the music.

A group of girls near the stage caught your attention.

They were laughing, leaning against the bar, looking a little too eager for the band to come out.

You pushed the thought aside, trying to not let it bother you.

You knew you and Geto weren’t technically together, but still, there was something about seeing other girls there, probably hoping for his attention, that made your chest tighten.

Then, the lights shifted slightly, and Geto stepped onto the stage with his bass slung over his shoulder, his usual calm expression adorning his face.

You sat up straighter, your pulse quickening at the sight of him in a different light.

Literally.

The quiet guy you had been getting to know for months now suddenly looked different, more confident, like he belonged up there.

He was dressed in a simple black t-shirt, that accentuated the lean muscles in his arms and the tattoos that peeked out from under his sleeves, revealing the intricate patterns snaking down his forearms.

Bold, dark lines stood out under the low lights, drawing attention to the ink that usually stayed hidden behind long sleeves.

That night, though, they were on full display, and that added to that air of mystery already surrounding him.

His hair, which he normally wore loosely tied back, was pulled into a slightly messy bun at the nape of his neck, with a few strands falling free to frame his face.

There was something about the way the dim stage lights reflected in his dark hair and highlighted the sharp angles of his face that made him even more captivating.

As he stood there, bass in hand, his presence was magnetic.

You were used to seeing him laid-back and quiet at home, but up there with his tattoos visible and his sharp features highlighted, he looked more intense, more sure of himself.

You could almost hear the gasps of that group of girls in front of the stage from where you were sitting in the back of the room, as Geto walked out on stage.

The crowd quieted down, the buzz of conversation fading as the rest of the band came out and began to set up.

You watched Geto as he adjusted his bass and the way his fingers moved effortlessly over the strings.

You couldn’t help but watch the way he looked making it impossible for you to stray your eyes away.

When they started playing, the sound was raw and heavy, the bassline deep and steady, and you could feel it vibrating in your chest.

Geto looked focused, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips, a quiet satisfaction as the music went on.

The crowd was into it, heads bobbing to the rhythm, and you noticed those girls near the front moving a little closer to the stage, their eyes locked on him.

A drop of jealousy hit you, sharper than you expected, and you took a sip of your drink to distract yourself.

You knew it was silly to feel that way.

He was performing, not even paying attention to them.

But you found it really hard to ignore the way they seemed to be trying to catch his attention, especially when you had been growing closer to him those past few weeks.

Your eyes were glued on Geto, though.

He was captivating, you were entranced by the way he moved with the music, his focus entirely on the performance.

And yet, every once in a while, you caught him glancing in your direction, almost like he was checking to see if you were watching.

Each time, your heart skipped a beat, the tension between you feeling like it was tightening even more.

The set continued, the music filling the space, but you were caught in your own thoughts.

The sight of him up there, so in control, so confident, stirred something in you.

You couldn’t help but wonder if he felt the same thing, the same thing that had been brewing between you for weeks.

As the final notes of the set faded, Geto looked out over the crowd, his gaze landing on you.

For a brief second, the noise of the bar faded away, and it felt like it was just the two of you in the room.

His eyes lingered on yours, and you could clearly feel a silent acknowledgment of the tension between you, the unspoken attraction that had been building for so long.

And then he looked away, turning back to his bandmates.

You were still sitting at the table, trying to ignore the excited energy from the group of girls near the stage.

You finished your drink, trying to ignore the way they began clapping and shouting for another song.

One of the girls from the group started to make her way over to him, her confidence unmistakable as she leaned casually against the side of the stage.

She was smiling, her eyes locked on Geto, and you could already feel that slight hint of jealousy coming back.

You watched, trying to keep your expression neutral, but you couldn’t stop the way your heartbeat raced as she said something to him, leaning in closer than necessary.

She was being bold.

Her hand lightly brushed his arm, and she tossed her hair back, clearly trying to catch his attention.

You sat up straighter, the heat rising in your chest, even as you tried to tell yourself to relax.

It was nothing, right?

Besides, you had seen that before.

Girls always seemed drawn to Geto.

They always seemed drawn to his quiet, mysterious vibe.

You noticed it every time you went grocery shopping with him.

But being used to it didn’t make it easier to watch.

To your relief, Geto didn’t seem fazed.

His body language was distant, his eyes shifting away from hers as if he was barely listening to what she was saying.

He nodded politely, offering a kind smile, but there was no visible interest in him.

Still, the girl didn't notice that.

Instead, she leaned in closer, her voice too distant to hear, but her laughter loud enough to be heard through the noise of the crowd.

Your grip tightened around your empty glass as you watched the exchange, trying not to let the jealousy consume you.

It was irrational.

You knew that.

Geto wasn’t interested, that was obvious.

But it was really hard to ignore the fact she was so clearly making a move on him, right in front of you.

Just as you were about to look away, the girl's gaze suddenly shifted in your direction, her eyes narrowing slightly when she noticed you already staring back at her.

It was like she was sizing you up, acknowledging your presence for the first time.

The corner of her mouth lifted into a smirk, and she turned back to Geto, saying something that you couldn't exactly hear, but could clearly see through her body language.

She was trying to claim him, as if to say,“watch this, he’s mine.’’

You could feel the irritation building up inside of you, but before you could react, Geto followed her gaze and locked eyes with you.

For a split second, the noise of the bar seemed to fade again, just like it had during his performance.

His expression softened the moment he saw you, and there was a flash of something in his eyes.

Reassurance, maybe?

A subtle sign that he didn’t care for her.

Without missing a beat, Geto pulled away from the girl, his eyes never leaving yours as he stepped down from the stage.

He made his way toward you, the girl watching in silence, a stunned expression on her face, her confidence wavering as she realized she had lost his attention.

The smirk vanished from her lips, but you could feel her eyes burning into you as Geto approached.

He stopped in front of you, that familiar calmness coating his features as he gave you a small, almost teasing smile.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low and casual, as if the entire room wasn’t buzzing with energy.

“Hey,” you replied, trying to keep your tone steady despite the way your heart was racing.

He didn’t even acknowledge the girl, and you couldn’t help but feel a small sense of victory. The tension between you thickened, but now it felt more like a mutually shared thing, something that neither of you needed to point out.

He didn’t have to say anything.

His actions spoke for themselves.

As you sat there, the moment between you and Geto was interrupted by that girl.

She had followed him to the table, her energy still high.

She leaned on the edge of your table, her smile dripping with false charm.

She was pretending you weren’t even there, directing her full attention back to Geto, her voice suddenly louder, faker.

“Suguru,” she purred, using his first name as if they had known each other for years. “You were amazing up there. I didn’t know you were that good.”

You rolled your eyes internally, trying not to let the irritation show on your face.

Geto, still standing close to you, just gave her a polite nod. “Thanks,” he said, his tone flat. He averted his gaze slightly, making it obvious that he wasn’t planning on keeping the conversation going, but she didn’t seem to take the hint.

Instead, she leaned in closer to him, her fingers brushing the sleeve of his shirt. “We should definitely hang out sometime,” she said, her voice lowering just a bit, like she was trying to seduce him.

Your grip tightened on your glass, and you glanced up at Geto, but he was still calm, barely reacting to her attempts.

His eyes flickered toward you briefly, as if to check in, and the corner of his mouth twitched.

Almost like he was amused by her persistence.

Before he could say anything, though, the girl turned her attention toward you, finally acknowledging your presence.

She looked you up and down, her expression dripping with fake sweetness. “Oh,” she said, her voice dripping with condescension. “Are you a fan of the band too, or are you just here for… moral support?”

You could feel the passive-aggressive energy behind her words, and it took everything in you to keep your expression neutral. “Sure,” you responded coldly, refusing to give her the satisfaction of a reaction.

She chuckled, clearly unimpressed. “Cute,” she said, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “But you know, real fans get to know the band… personally.”

Her eyes flashed to Geto again, as if she was waiting for him to back her up.

But he was silent, looking almost bored by her remarks.

Instead of reacting, he finally stepped closer to you, subtly putting some distance between himself and the girl.

He placed his arm around your shoulders, the gesture casual but possessive enough that it was impossible to miss.

And unexpected enough that it made you jump slightly in your chair at the sudden touch.

“I’m good, thanks,” he said to the girl, his voice calm but final. “I’ve got plans tonight.”

The girl blinked, clearly not expecting his bluntness. “Plans?” she repeated, her voice faltering as she glanced between the two of you, the realization finally hitting her.

The smirk on her face disappeared, replaced by a spark of annoyance.

“Yeah,” Geto replied, his eyes locked on yours now, a small smile playing on his lips. “With her.”

“Oh,” she said, feigning surprise, but you could tell she wasn’t giving up just yet. “Well, maybe we can all hang out sometime?”

You felt a mix of annoyance and amusement at her persistence, and quickly acted upon those feelings, shaking your head. “I think we’ll pass,” you replied firmly, the irritation creeping into your voice.

She pouted slightly, clearly not expecting the rejection, but instead of giving up, she leaned in a little more, undefeated. “Are you sure?,” she insisted, turning to him, her voice dripping with false sweetness. “I’m pretty fun.”

You could sense the tension in the air as she tried to navigate her way back into the conversation, but Geto’s focus remained on you, and you could see the slight shift in his expression.

He was done entertaining her.

“She said, we’ll pass,” he said, a subtle annoyance in his tone that made it clear he wasn’t interested in indulging her further.

She scoffed a little, finally realizing her attempts weren’t proving successful, and straightened up. “Well, I guess I’ll leave you two alone,” she said, forcing a smile. “But you should definitely think about it.”

With one last flirtatious glance, she turned and walked away, the sound of her heels clacking on the floor fading into the background noise of the bar as she went back to her group of friends.

She left, and the air suddenly felt lighter, but still charged.

“Sorry about that,” he said, his voice low, a hint of amusement in it. “Some people just don’t get the hint.”

You chuckled lightly, shaking your head. “No worries. I get it. It’s not your fault.” But deep down, you couldn’t help the flutter of excitement that rushed through you.

He chose you over her, and that realization sent a rush of warmth through your chest.

“Hey, do you want to come backstage and meet the guys from the band?” he asked, his tone casual but you could see a hint of excitement in his eyes.

“Really? I’d love to!” you replied, surprised yet thrilled at the invitation.

The thought of getting to know his world a little bit better was exhilarating, and you felt honored he was showing it to you.

You followed him to the back of the bar, and he led you to a hallway that ended with a door to a dressing room.

You entered behind him, and looked around.

The walls were also adorned with posters and the faint sound of old rock music played from a distant speaker.

An old looking couch sat against one wall, surrounded by a few scattered bottles of beer and a half empty bottle of whiskey sitting at a low table, giving the room a laid-back, messy yet comfortable vibe.

The lighting was dim and the air was thick with the scent of wood and a hint of cigarette smoke.

Inside, the band members were busy packing up their equipment, but they stopped to greet you with warm smiles. “Hey, you made it!” one of them said, his friendly demeanor instantly putting you at ease.

Geto stood beside you, his body language exuding satisfaction, as if he was proud to have you there.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t miss it,” you replied, feeling your cheeks heat up red at the way all of their eyes were on you.

They exchanged glances, but you caught the way Geto watched you, his gaze softening.

The guys started asking you questions about your music taste, and soon enough, the room was filled with laughter and easy conversation.

They told you about their old gigs, shared funny stories from their concerts, and you found yourself genuinely enjoying their company.

Each time you glanced at Geto, you saw him smiling, clearly happy that you were fitting in so well.

“Honestly, we need more people like you in our crowd,” one of the bandmates joked, nudging Geto playfully. “He never brings anyone to hang out!”

You laughed, a warm feeling spreading in your chest. “I’m lucky to be here tonight then.”

As the conversation continued, you felt a genuine connection with the band, and it was easy to understand why Geto liked them so much.

They were relaxed, funny, and very supportive of each other.

But eventually, the time came for them to start packing up their things, and the energy in the room shifted slightly.

“We’ve got to get our gear to the band van before the bar kicks us out,” one of the guys says, glancing at the clock.

They all started getting up from their seats, and as the excitement of the moment began to fade, you felt a slight pang of disappointment.

“Thanks for having me, guys. It was really nice meeting you!” you said, trying to hold onto the warmth of the evening.

“Anytime! You should come to our next gig,” another bandmate suggested, giving you a grin as they gathered their things.

Geto looked at you, and there was a moment of shared understanding.

The relationship between him and his bandmates was great, but the connection you had been building felt even more special after that.

As the last of the equipment was loaded up into their van, the band members said their goodbyes, leaving you and Geto alone in the cozy dressing room.

The atmosphere felt different, quieter, and the soft glow of the low lights created an intimate setting that enhanced the tension between you.

You and Geto exchanged glances, and there was a shift in the air around you, a palpable awareness of each other that wasn’t there before.

He stepped a little closer, the distant sound of laughter and chatter outside barely reaching you.

“You did great tonight,” you said, your voice soft but filled with sincerity.

“Thanks. I’m glad you came,” he replied, and there was a warmth in his tone that made your heart race.

In that small, intimate space, the unspoken feelings between you two started to bubble to the surface, and you couldn’t shake away the thought that something significant was about to happen.

The room felt comfortable, the lingering sound of the bar's music fading into the background of the moment you were sharing, where it was just the two of you.

No distractions.

No expectations.

Just the quiet tension that had been building for weeks.

You both settled onto the small couch, the air thick with unspoken words.

You inhaled deeply, and took a moment to collect your thoughts, feeling the warmth of his presence beside you.

“I really can’t believe how good you were up there,” you started, trying to keep your tone light, but there was an intensity in your gaze. “You looked incredible, and the way you played... It was amazing. I really enjoyed it.”

Geto shifted slightly, a hint of a smile creeping onto his lips at your praise. “Thanks,” he replied, his voice low and sincere. “It means a lot to hear that from you.”

You took a breath, deciding to be upfront about what you had experienced earlier. “But I have to be honest... I felt a bit jealous when those girls were looking at you like that,” you confessed, your cheeks warming. “I know we’re not together or anything, but I couldn’t help it.”

Geto’s expression shifted, surprise flashing across his face.

“You don’t have to apologize for how you feel,” he said, his tone steady yet gentle. “I get it. It’s not easy watching people try to grab my attention when I’m just trying to focus on the music.”

You glanced down, suddenly feeling vulnerable. “I know it sounds stupid. I shouldn’t feel that way...”

“No, it’s not stupid,” he interrupted softly, his voice firm. “I understand how you feel.” He leaned in slightly, the distance between you shrinking, and your heart raced at the change in his demeanor.

“Really?” you asked, looking up at him, searching for sincerity in his gaze.

“Yeah,” he replied, his eyes locking onto yours. “Even if we’re not technically together, it doesn’t change the fact that I like being around you. You mean a lot to me.” His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning.

You swallowed, the reality of the situation washing over you. “I... I feel the same way,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

The warmth in your chest spread, mingling with the excitement of being so close to him, and as he shifted closer, you could feel the heat radiating from him. “I didn’t bring you here just for the concert, you know,” he said, his tone dropping lower. “I wanted you to see that side of me, but I also wanted to spend time with you.”

Your breath hitched, the intensity of his gaze making your heart race. “Geto...” You tried to continue, but he interrupted again, his gaze sincere and focused.

“You don’t need to feel jealous or insecure. It’s just you and me here. And honestly? I’m glad it’s you.” The sincerity in his words wrapped around you like a warm embrace, and the tension lingered in the air, thick and electric.

You sat there, stuck in the intensity of his gaze, the world outside the dressing room fading

into a distant memory.

“I’m really glad I came tonight,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, the honesty behind your words making your heart pick up pace. “It feels different being here with you.”

Geto leaned in closer, the couch suddenly feeling too small for the two of you “It does, doesn’t it?” he replied, his voice low, intimate.

There was something vulnerable in his eyes that caused your breath to falter.

You found yourself moving closer to him, almost unconsciously, the tension wrapping around you like a rope. “I’ve been thinking about this moment,” you confessed, your heart pounding in your chest. “About what it would be like if we didn’t have to hide how we feel.”

He narrowed the gap even more. “Same here,” he admitted, his voice steady, yet filled with an undeniable intensity “It’s hard not to think about it when you’re around.”

As the words hung in the air, the space between you grew heavier with desire.

You could see the emotion in his eyes.

Something raw and genuine.

And it sent a thrill through you.

“I don’t think I can handle just staring at you any longer…” you said softly, your heart racing as you searched his gaze for any hesitation.

But instead, you found only warmth and a deep longing, matching yours.

Without thinking, you leaned in closer, drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

He didn’t pull back, though.

Instead, he closed the distance between you, his breath mingling with yours.

The moment stretched, and you could feel even more intensely the heat radiating from him, the way his presence enveloped you.

Then, without a word, he closed the gap, capturing your lips with his.

It was soft at first, a gentle kiss that sent shockwaves through your body, igniting every nerve ending.

But as you leaned into him, it deepened, the kiss becoming more urgent, more passionate.

His hand found its way to your waist, pulling you onto his lap, as if he was trying to erase any space that remained between you.

You responded instinctively, wrapping your arms around his neck, and your legs straddling his sides, melting into him as the kiss intensified.

Your heart raced, the rhythm of your pulse echoing in your ears, drowning out the rest of the world.

His fingers traced the contours of your body, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

He broke the kiss, his gaze locked on yours briefly, his breathing heavy.

He cupped your face, pulling you back in for another kiss, more intense than the last.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,’’ he whispered, his voice thick with need.

You could feel the heat of his body, the evidence of his desire pressing against your core.

Geto’s fingers trailed down your neck, over your collarbone, and settled on your breasts, his thumb teasing your nipple through the fabric of your shirt.

He pulled back again, his eyes filled with hunger, a silent plea for the both of you to continue down this path.

“Geto,’’ you murmured, your voice a soft, breathy whisper.

You leaned into his touch, encouraging him to explore further.“I... I want you too.’’

You reached down, grasping his hand, and guided it under your shirt, feeling his fingers brush against your skin.

The sensation made you shiver with anticipation, the intimacy of the gesture stirring something deep within you.

The room swirled around you, the line between reality and fantasy blurring as you surrendered to the moment.

Geto’s lips found your neck, his teeth gently nipping at your skin, sending a jolt of pleasure coursing through your body.

You responded swiftly, your hands finding their way to the hem of his shirt, lifting it up and over his head.

His breath hitched as you pulled his shirt off, and he watched as your eyes roamed over his body, taking in every line, every curve, every tattoo.

He felt a sense of pride, of accomplishment, knowing that you found him desirable.

Leaning in, he captured your lips once more, his hands tracing the curves of your body.

He knew you were as affected as he was, that the connection between you was as electric for you as it was for him.

He broke the kiss, his lips trailing down your neck, his tongue tasting your skin.

He could feel your pulse quickening, your breath coming in short gasps, your body arching into his touch.

He smiled against your skin, a sense of satisfaction washing over him.

Geto’s hands explored your body, his fingers reaching the end of your shirt, tugging at the hem until it was bunched up around his hands.

He slid it over your head and his lips continued their journey, leaving a trail of kisses and nips along your collarbone, down to your breasts.

He took one of your nipples into his mouth, his tongue swirling around it, teasing it into a hard peak.

A moan escaped your lips, the sensation overwhelming.

He moved to the other side, repeating the process, his hands sliding up your thighs, until his fingers reached the limit of your shorts.

His lips crashed into yours once more, his tongue dancing with yours, your taste intoxicating.

He pulled back and laid you on your back, his eyes filled with hunger and desire as he hovered over you on the couch.

Geto’s hands found the waistband of your shorts, his fingers hooking onto the fabric and pulling it down, taking off your underwear with it, revealing your most intimate self to him.

He took a moment to appreciate the sight, his eyes roaming over your body, taking in every curve, every line.

Geto felt a sense of awe, knowing that you had chosen to share this part of yourself with him.

He leaned down, his lips finding your inner thigh, his tongue tracing a path upwards.

He felt your muscles tensing, your body anticipating his touch.

He smiled against your skin, his hands gripping your hips, holding you in place.

His tongue reached your wetness, his lips parting to taste you, to explore you.

Your breath hitched, your body arching into his touch.

Taking his time, he traced his tongue over every fold, every crease, his fingers joining in, stroking and teasing.

Your body began responding to his touch, your hips moving in rhythm with his tongue.

He looked up, his eyes locking onto yours, watching as you lost yourself in the moment.

The sight of you, so lost in pleasure, so vulnerable, was mesmerizing.

His tongue and fingers worked in perfect harmony, driving you closer and closer to the edge. He could feel your body trembling, the tension building within you.

As you neared your climax, he felt your muscles twitch, your body arching off the couch, your moans growing louder, more desperate.

He didn’t stop, his tongue and fingers working in perfect sync.

And then, it happened.

Your body convulsed slightly, your soft moans turning into breathy whimpers as you reached that peak of pleasure.

Wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over you, leaving you breathless and spent.

He pulled back, his eyes filled with admiration and affection as he watched you recover from the intensity of your orgasm.

He wiped his mouth, a satisfied smile spreading across his face.

Geto’s heart raced, his own arousal growing with each passing moment.

He could feel his own need growing, aching for release.

Looking at you, his eyes filled with desire, he stood up, unbuckling his belt and sliding down his pants.

His erection sprung free, evidence to his need.

He watched as your eyes locked onto it, your breath hitching in your throat.

He got on top of you, his erection pressing against your core.

“Geto…’’ you moaned, your voice breathy and needy. “Please…’’

You could feel the evidence of his desire pressing against you, hard and insistent.

You reached down, your fingers wrapping around his length.

He groaned at your touch, his hips slightly bucking against your hand.

He pulled back, his eyes dark with desire as he gazed down at you. “I want you so badly, baby. I need to be inside you.’’

You nod, your own need perfectly mirroring his.

He paused, taking a deep breath, savoring the moment before he entered you.

He leaned in, capturing your lips in a deep, passionate kiss, his erection nudging against you.

Slowly, he pushed inside, his pace deliberate, allowing you both to adjust to the sensation. Your eyes widened, your body tensing as he filled you, your muscles stretching to accommodate him.

He watched your face, reading the emotion that flickered across it, a mixture of pleasure and discomfort.

As he sank deeper, your body relaxed, the discomfort fading, replaced by a growing sense of pleasure.

You could feel every inch of him, stretching you, filling you up like you had never experienced before.

He pulled back slightly, his gaze locked on yours, waiting for your cue.

You nodded, and he began to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate, gradually building in speed and intensity.

His hands rested on your breasts, his thumbs teasing your nipples, adding another layer of sensation to the mix.

You responded to his touch, your hips moving in sync with his, your moans growing louder, more urgent.

“Fuck,’’ he exhaled, his voice shaky. “You feel incredible.’’

His hands began exploring your body, and you felt a rush of pleasure coursing through you.

Your skin tingled under his touch, every nerve ending lighting up with sensation.

He picked up the pace, his thrusts growing harder, deeper.

You moaned, your nails digging into his back, your hips rising to meet his.

The room filled up with the sound of skin slapping against skin, the rhythmic creaking of the sofa and your mingled moans and gasps.

Geto’s mouth found yours, his kisses hungry and demanding.

His tongue tangled with yours, tasting you, claiming you.

“You're so tight,’’ he groaned, his voice strained with pleasure. “So perfect.“

One hand slid down your body, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing in slow, firm circles, a gasp escaping your lips at the contact.

“You’re such a good girl, taking me so well.’’ His heart swelled with pride as he felt your body respond to his touch, your moans and gasps spurring him on.

His fingers on your clit sent shockwaves through you, your muscles clenching around his length.

You could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter, your breath coming in short, desperate gasps.

Your bodies moved in sync with your walls clenching around him, pulling him deeper.

“Don't stop, please don't stop,’’ you moaned, your voice high and needy.

“That's it, baby,’’ he groaned, his voice strained with exertion and lust. “Let go for me. I want to feel you come undone.’’

His fingers worked your clit with renewed vigor, his thumb circling the sensitive nub, applying just the right amount of pressure to send waves of ecstasy coursing through your body.

He leaned down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth.

He swallowed your moans, basking in the sounds of your pleasure, the proof of his effect on you.

His hips pounded into you, the wet sounds of his skin slapping against yours echoing through the room mixing up with your moans and cries.

The sensation of his hard length filling you, stretching you, combined with the delicious friction of his fingers on your clit, pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

Your muscles began to tense, your body quivering slightly.

“I'm close,’’ you gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders, your body arching off the couch. “So close, Geto. Please, I need…’’

He increased his pace, his thrusts becoming harder, faster, more erratic.

He felt your body tensing, your walls fluttering around him, and he knew you were on the verge of climax.

“Come for me, baby, there you go,’’ he breathed out, his free hand firmly gripping your hip.

His words, the intensity of his thrusts, the skilled touch of his fingers, it was all too much, the pressure inside you building to an almost unbearable level

With a cry of his name, you shattered, your second orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave.

Your body trembled, your vision went blurry, your toes curled as the pleasure consumed you.

Your senses were completely overwhelmed by the intensity of your release.

Feeling your walls clenching around him, the rhythmic contractions surrounding him, urged him towards his own release.

He continued to thrust into you, his pace unrelenting, his movements growing more and more desperate as he chased his own climax.

“Fuck, I'm... I'm going to..." he moaned, his voice strained, his forehead pressed against yours.

He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his hot breath fanning across your skin, his teeth grazing it.

Geto’s body tensed, his muscles straining as he neared his own peak.

His thrusts become urgent, losing their rhythm as the pleasure overwhelmed him.

His pacing was cut off by a shaky whimper as his climax hit him like a freight train.

His hips jerked, his length pulsing inside you as he filled you up with his seed.

His body shuddered, his muscles trembling as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over him.

He collapsed on top of you, his weight pressing you into the couch, his breathing ragged, as he tried to recover.

He lifted his head, his eyes finding yours, his gaze intense, filled with a mix of satisfaction and adoration.

He smiled, a slow lazy curl of his lips, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“I've wanted that for so long,’’ he confessed, his voice soft, vulnerable.“Wanted you.’’

He rolled onto his side, pulling you with him, your back pressing against his chest, his arms wrapping around your waist, holding you close.

He nuzzled into your hair, breathing in your scent, committing it to memory.

“Can we stay like this for a little?’’ he asked, his voice hopeful. “I don't want to let you go just yet.’’

You felt the warmth of his body enveloping you, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your back calming your thoughts.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” you replied softly, leaning back against him, allowing yourself to sink deeper into the comfort of his embrace.

The world outside the dressing room faded away once more, leaving just the two of you in your own bubble. “I could stay like this forever,” you murmured, the tension from earlier long gone, morphed into a comfortable intimacy.

Geto chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your back. “Yeah? Just you and me in a tiny room, hiding from the world?” There was a teasing tone in his voice, but you could sense the sincerity behind it.

“Sounds perfect to me,” you replied, a smile creeping onto your face.

He tightened his grip around your waist, pulling you even closer.. “You know,” he began, his tone shifting to something more serious, “I really didn’t expect tonight to go like this.”

You turned your head slightly, just enough to catch a glimpse of his expression.

There was a seriousness to his tone that made your heart flutter. “Yeah? How did you expect it to go?”

He hesitated for a moment, the air between you thickening. “I thought I’d just perform, introduce you to the guys and then... you know, go home. But then I saw the way you were looking at me in that crowd and everything changed.”

You felt your cheeks heat at his admission. “Really? I didn’t think I’d make that much of a difference.”

He chuckled again, but this time it held a hint of vulnerability. “You have no idea. It didn’t feel like I was playing for a crowd. It felt like I was playing just for you.”

His words hung in the air, wrapping around you like a warm blanket.

You took a breath, feeling a mix of emotions.

Excitement, nervousness, and anxiety all at the same time.

“Geto,” you started, wanting to say something meaningful, but the way he held you made it hard to think straight.

He turned you to face him, his eyes searching yours. “I know this is all new and kind of overwhelming, but I want you to know that... I’m really glad you’re here.”

You nodded, your heart racing as you looked into his deep, dark eyes. “Me too,” you whispered, feeling the weight of the moment.

He leaned in closer, his forehead resting against yours, and for a heartbeat, everything felt perfectly aligned. “I don’t want this to be just a moment. ” he spoke, his voice dropping to a husky whisper.

The space between your lips closed in an instant, and you felt the spark of connection ignite again as your mouths met.

Time seemed to stand still as you melted against him, the outside world forgotten.

In that small, intimate dressing room, nothing else mattered.

Just you, Geto, and the growing connection that pulled you closer together.

[bingbongsupremacy]

The Lakeside Cabin

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Warning: Y/N Use, swearing, this doesn't really follow the movies or shows.

Summary: You and Bucky hate each other. This time, your argument went too far. You're forced to stay together in a cabin to try to work out your differences. Will you both make it out alive?

*Not Proof Read*

No mentions of body type, skin color, or details of reader's appearance. Reader is able-bodied.

Pt. 2

□□□□□□□

My mom always told me hate is a strong word.

It's not strong enough to describe the way I feel about Bucky Barnes.

Bucky Barnes.

10 percent muscle. 90 percent jackass.

I never wanted to hate Bucky. He just makes it very difficult to like him.

We have different personalities-I like being loud and outgoing. I love the spontaneity life has to offer and being around people. I can be rebellious and don't like it when people tell me what to do.

Bucky's the opposite. He lives in silence and routine. Everything has to go his way. He's grumpy and constantly has a gloomy grey cloud of isolation that surrounds him.

He does fine with everyone else. He's not exactly their best friend, but he's civil. He's willing to work together with them.

Just like he pisses me off, I piss him off. We trigger each other. We're always looking for an in -a way to catch the other when they slip up and help drag them down.

It doesn't help that some people on the team think the only reason we fight is due to some extreme sexual tension. The way they make stupid remarks or exchange looks when they see Bucky and me fighting makes my blood boil.

Don't get me wrong, Bucky Barnes is an attractive man. He's got beautiful eyes and an amazing physique. He's strong and mysterious -the kind of bad boy type guy that makes girls swoon.

But the attraction ends there. His personality totally kills the mood.

Things have definitely escalated since Bucky joined us at the compound last year. It started out with small, snarky comments and evolved to full-on verbal warfare: no filter, no tact, just venom and fire.

"Are you always this loud, or is it just when I’m around?"

"Only when I’m trying to scare off emotionally stunted super soldiers."

"You know, I’d rather face Hydra again than spend another second dealing with your miserable ass."

"I’d gladly leave you to rot with them if I didn’t know you’d screw up the escape plan."

"You know, for someone with a metal arm, your grip on reality is weak."

"And for someone with a mouth like yours, it’s a miracle you’re still breathing."

Sometimes I don't even mean to fight back. I try to take the upper hand, face his words like a champ, and not let them bother me. It's just so difficult. When he starts the fire, I need to make sure it burns.

I know it bugs the team. We've been warned multiple times by Steve and Fury.

It's just so hard to stop.

I don't know why I do it. Maybe it's to get his reaction. Maybe it's because I like to get the last word. I don't know.

It's rare that the team pairs the two of us up on missions. They know the way things will play out.

We're only paired together in extreme situations in missions -situations where they need the best shooters in the group.

Situations like the one today.

Bucky and I haven't said a word to each other in half an hour.

The air is beginning to chill with the change in time. The sun is setting, casting a beautiful orange and pink glow over the chaos we're supposed to cover. If this were any other situation, I would be sitting down and admiring the beauty of nature. I love sunsets.

But this isn't any other situation.

Bucky and I are lying on the roof of an abandoned building a few feet away from each other. Our eyes are trained on the deteriorating warehouse across from us, fingers hovering above the triggers of our guns. The building, which looks like it's holding a bunch of secrets, is definitely holding a bunch of secrets -kidnapped human experiments and top secret information regarding planned attacks. The shady, untrustworthy exterior definitely matches the vibe of the horrors happening inside.

Outside of the warehouse are parked cars without license plates and scattered pieces of junk and broken machinery lying on rough gravel and yellowing grass.

Steve walks into my view from the left. He quietly guides, who are closely behind him. They stop behind one of the cars, using it as cover while Steve scans the area for any dangers. After the area is secured, the three begin making their way into the building through a side entrance.

Through my scope I briefly spot Tony as he enters through the other end of the building.

The comm in my ear gently crackles as Natasha's voice comes through. "I've got visuals on the northwest entry."

Steve's voice follows. "I'm placing charges."

"All right, folks," Sam chimes in. "Let’s make this fast and quiet. I’ve got eyes in the sky, but our rooftop lovebirds better stay sharp."

There he goes again, our number one shipper. He's so adamant about there being something between Bucky and me. It's annoying.

I choose not to let his words ruffle me, biting the inside of my cheek harshly instead.

Bucky ignores the jab as well.

The only sound between us is the soft click of his rifle adjusting. He ignores me, just as he always does.

The tension between us is strong. We're both annoyed. Neither of us wants to be here with the other one.

I try to focus on the task at hand. Observe. I need to observe.

It's difficult.

Every few minutes, I feel my attention shifting to the man in my peripheral vision. I watch him lie perfectly still, the only movement coming from his jaw, which he clenches and unclenches every so often like he's trying to hold back.

He probably is holding back. Something I did pissed him off. Something I do always pisses him off.

I shouldn't be distracted. I can't afford to be, not when the lives of innocent people are at stake. I need to stay focused.

This isn't about me or Bucky. This is about freeing civilians.

Because HYDRA is HYDRA, all hope for a smooth, easy mission is thrown out the window about 5 minutes later when Tony's voice breaks the tense silence.

"Cameras are down," Tony’s voice is quiet. "Something triggered the internal defense system—doors locking. They’re trying to cage us in."

"Bucky, Y/N, keep the perimeter secure." Steve orders, his voice more urgent than before. "Watch for backup."

I force myself to focus on the building below, knowing this could turn into a life-or-death situation. "Copy." I reply calmly.

Bucky stays silent beside me. He shifts his scope lower.

"You could at least pretend we’re working together," I mutter, frustration laced in my tone.

"Didn’t realize babysitting you required small talk." He snaps back without looking at me.

I roll my eyes so hard I practically see stars. "Right. Because you’re just so pleasant when you’re brooding in silence."

"Silence is better than listening to your constant whining."

"Whining?" I let out an annoyed laugh. "God, you’re insufferable."

"And you’re loud. Even when you’re trying to whisper, you’re loud."

We both freeze at the same time.

Footsteps.

Close and fast.

Fuck, just what we need.

I turn my scope, just in time to see a group of Hydra agents breaching the stairwell two floors below us.

"Oh, shit," I breath.

Bucky moves first. He's up in seconds, his rifle in hand. "We’ve got company."

"Team, rooftop’s compromised," I say sharply into the comms. "We’ve got Hydra climbing the building."

"How many?" Asks Steve.

"At least six, maybe more. All armed and in tactical gear." I get up, clutching my rifle securely in my hands.

"Get out of there. Now."

Bucky moves towards the door we entered onto the roof from. His steps are light but purposeful. He stands to the side of the door, barely waiting for me to get to the other side before opening it quietly.

Of course, he didn't wait.

He doesn't give a shit if I'm shot down. One less problem for him to deal with.

"Sacrifice me, I guess," I mutter snarkily. "It's not like I mind getting shot. Thanks for asking."

"Have you ever considered shutting up? You're going to give our location away." He hisses, still not sparing me a glance.

I can't resist. "Have you ever considered thinking about anyone but yourself before? I know it's a new concept for you -possibly a little difficult for you to wrap your brain around, but I promise you'll be slightly more tolerable."

"Ha ha." Bucky's tone is unamused. "Thanks for the life advice. I'd try it but I really just don't give a shit about what you have to say or your opinion."

We continue making our way down the stairs, eyes constantly scanning in front of us.

"Fuck you." I huff, annoyed by his presence. I just want to go home and get as far away from this man as humanly possible. I've spent enough time with him for today -for a lifetime.

"Very mature. What, can't think of anything better to say-" Bucky is cut off by the sound of gunshots echoing through the room.

Immediately, he's quiet, his lips tightly pressed together. He's pissed we drew attention to ourselves. He's so going to give me shit for this.

The next ten minutes are a blur. Everything happens so quickly.

Gunfire cracks through stairwells. We move, dodging, weaving through offices. We take down the agents who come at us, neither of us needing to speak a word. It's about survival right now.

Then Bucky has the nerve the piss me off again.

"I said left, Barnes!"

"You want to lead? Be my guest," he snaps, ducking behind a filing cabinet as bullets tear through drywall. His lips are pursed into a tight frown, his eyes crinkling with anger.

"I am leading! You’re just too busy trying to look cool to listen! Newsflash, Bucky. We're not in a fucking action movie. No one gives a shit if you look cool and mysterious." I hiss back, pressing myself tightly under a desk as the bullets continue to come.

"Right, because this is such a great time for your little ego trip!" He quickly shoots down two agents with ease before retreating behind the filing cabinet again.

"My ego? Oh, please -like you don’t walk around with a six-ton chip on your shoulder and a martyr complex the size of Manhattan!" I manage to take out the last agent left shooting at us.

"You don’t know the first thing about me." Bucky brushes past me, his shoulder roughly knocking into mine.

I don't let it faze me. I quickly follow him, still keeping my eyes searching the room. "And you don’t know the first thing about working with someone who doesn’t worship the ground you stomp on!"

"You think I wanted to be paired with you? You think I asked for this?" For the first time all day, Bucky's head snaps towards me. His striking blue eyes are dark and narrowed at me. His face is tense and clearly angry. "You're the last fucking person I want to be paired with."

By now, we're screaming. Our boots thud down staircases as we duck another volley of shots. He's pissed. I'm pissed. We're on the verge of quite literally killing each other.

And through all of it—

The comms were still on.

-------

When we finally burst out onto the street, smoke in the air, Hydra agents down for the count, I am heaving. My hands are shaking from adrenaline and rage. I can't stand one more minute with this asshole.

Bucky is beside me, jaw clenched like it might crack. We storm across the lot to where the Quinjet is freshly landed and waiting for us, steam hissing from its wings. The team is standing and waiting.

Sam crosses his arms slowly. "Well, that was subtle."

"Shut up, Wilson." I roll my eyes, wiping a little bit of blood from my hand onto my shirt.

Steve looks like he aged five years in ten minutes.

Natasha just raises an eyebrow. "You two done with your little lovers’ quarrel?"

I blink. "What—?"

And then it hits me.

The comms. The fucking comms.

"Oh, god."

Sam smirks. "Not gonna lie, I was really rooting for one of you to throw a punch. Or kiss. Hard to tell with you two."

I scoff. "Keep your fantasies to yourself."

"You’re both exhausting," Steve mutters.

Bucky looks like he wants to dig a hole with his metal arm and crawl into it. His face is slightly flushed -most likely from a mixture of embarrassment and anger.

I lift a hand. "I didn’t mean ...he’s just -this whole thing-"

"Sexual tension like that could level a building," Natasha deadpans, eyeing the two of us. "And apparently did."

"I hate him," I state.

"Right back at you," Bucky growls.

We glare at each other for a moment.

And then we both walk in opposite directions while the rest of the team stares after us like exasperated parents watching their toddlers throw tantrums.

The mission was a success.

Our dignity? Dead on arrival.

------

The silence on the Quinjet is suffocating.

We are barely five minutes in, and already I feel the tension crawling across my skin like static. No one is speaking. No one is even pretending to make small talk. Even Tony is quiet (Something I thought was impossible), which meant we had officially fucked up.

I sit with my arms crossed and my jaw clenched, staring furiously at a very interesting spot on the floor. Across from me, Bucky sits in his own simmering silence, eyes fixed straight ahead, metal fingers twitching like he wants to strangle a ghost.

Every bump of turbulence feels like a passive-aggressive nudge from the universe.

I get it. What the fuck else do you want from me?

Steve is seated beside the cockpit, flipping through a report like it owes him an apology. Natasha leans against the wall by the hatch with her arms folded, wearing the expression of a woman who'd just listened to two coworkers have a very personal argument on speakerphone.

Because she has.

Because everyone has.

Sam lets out a long, theatrical sigh from the back bench.

"Just say it," I snap without looking at him. I tightly clench my fists, waiting for his remarks.

"What?" he asks, all innocent.

Fucker.

"Whatever comment you’ve been chewing on since we left the ground."

He grins. "Oh, I wasn’t gonna say anything. I’m just wondering who’s gonna crack first and scream ‘I love you, you emotionally constipated bastard!’ because honestly, I’ve got twenty bucks riding on Y/N."

I open my mouth. Close it. Turn to glare out the window instead. If I could kill Sam legally, I would. At this moment, he's on the same level as Bucky on my shit list. "I hate you."

"You've said that a lot today," Bucky mutters.

I snap my head toward him. "And you keep earning it. Care to earn another one?"

He finally looks at me, face hard. "I didn’t ask to be stuck on a roof with you."

"Believe me, if I could’ve picked anyone else on this planet to crouch beside for two hours of pure hell, I would’ve!" I tear my eyes away from him as I roll them.

"Oh my god," Natasha mutters, dragging a hand down her face.

Steve stands up abruptly, closing his folder. "We’re debriefing in an hour. Separately."

He's tired of our shit.

Tony, from the cockpit, calls back, "Debrief? Nah, just show me the footage of their comms again. That was way more entertaining than the mission feed."

"Delete it," I hiss. "Or I swear to-"

"I enhanced the audio," he replies brightly.

Of course he did. Why wouldn't he?

Sam wheezes. Natasha covers a snort with a cough.

Bucky is back to brooding in silence, but I can feel the heat rolling off him. Or maybe that's me. I can’t tell anymore.

We don’t speak for the rest of the ride. But I can feel his anger in my bones.

This has been the worst day of my year.

------

When we arrive back at the compound, we're all instructed to fill out our mission reports. Of course, I fill mine out as honestly as possible.

According to Bucky, he does, too. Sure.

Then we're called into a meeting by Nick Fury. Of course we are.

I sit with my arms crossed, refusing to look at Bucky, who’s already slouched in the chair across from me like he’s being forced to endure a root canal. His jaw flexes. Mine probably looks the same. The silence stretches like wire, taut and ready to snap.

Fury walks in, holding two tablets. He doesn’t sit. He just stops in front of the table, stares at us for a second, and looks like he’s calculating how hard he’d have to throw them for one to hit me and the other to clock Barnes. His glare is sharp enough to slice a block of metal.

“Alright,” Fury says, voice low and loaded with irritation. “Let’s recap.”

He lifts one tablet and reads.

"Agent Y/L/N: 'Mission compromised due to Barnes' refusal to follow sniper protocol. Irresponsibility put my safety in danger. Verbally hostile. Referred to me as, and I quote, "a trigger-happy liability with the patience of a caffeinated squirrel.'""

My arms fold tighter. I stand by my words. "Accurate."

Fury doesn’t react. Just switches tablets and reads again.

"Sergeant Barnes: 'Agent Y/L/N compromised positioning with unnecessary movement, broke radio silence to argue during enemy fire, and nearly shot me during an escape maneuver. Refers to me as having, quote, "the emotional range of wet drywall.'""

Bucky shrugs. "Still stands."

I scoff. "Only because I didn’t include 'walking splinter with a martyr complex.'"

Bucky snaps, "Maybe if you'd shut up for two seconds—"

Sure, maybe it's a little immature, but we're both already in deep shit. I scowl as I mock him.

"Enough," Fury barks, slamming both tablets onto the table like they’ve personally offended him. His glare shifts between the two fo us.

The silence that follows is blistering. Bucky looks like he wants to say something else, but I throw him a glare that could slice through vibranium.

Fury pinches the bridge of his nose like this briefing is physically draining him. "You two do realize your comms were on the entire time, right? While you were sniping. Escaping. And—what did the tech guys call it—oh right: 'screaming like a divorcing couple on Judge Judy.'" He spits. His brows are furrowed in anger.

My face burns. Fucking tech guys.

Bucky mutters a sharp curse under his breath.

"And thanks to that little performance," Fury continues, "Tony enhanced the audio. Sam made a remix. Natasha uploaded it to the team drive under the file name 'The Sound of Sexual Tension.'" His eyes narrow. "Not to mention, you put yourselves and your teammates at risk."

"I’m going to kill him," I mutter. "Actually, all of them. I'm going to kill all of them."

"You’ll have to beat me to it," Bucky growls. His posture is stiff and straight. He looks ready to jump up and hunt them down the second Fury excuses us.

Fury claps his hands once. Loud. Final. "Great! You'll have plenty of time to coordinate the murder. Together."

My stomach drops. What does he mean? Together. I don't want to spend another minute with Bucky. "Wait, what?"

"You’re both being reassigned to Safehouse Bravo-Tango-Twelve,"Fury says, way too casually, "for a mandatory cooling-off period."

Bucky and I speak at the same time.

His tone is annoyed. "You've got to be kidding me." For a moment, he closes his eyes like he's wishing this was all a bad dream.

"You’re locking us in a cabin?" I demand, staring Fury straight in the eye. I'm ready to fight. No way am I staying in a cabin with Bucky, we'll kill each other in minutes. I'm not kidding.

"No. I’m locking you in a lakeside four-room, twenty-camera, panic-button-equipped safehouse with 2 weeks' worth of rations and no mission clearance until I get a report that doesn’t read like it was ghostwritten by a Real Housewives producer."

"You've got to be fucking with us!" I groan, leaning back further into my chair. This is a nightmare. "Tell me you're fucking with us."

Bucky leans back, arms crossed like he’s bracing for a fall. "I'd rather bunk with Hydra."

Fury leans down, voice low and lethal. "Don't tempt me."

He grabs the tablets, heads for the door, and pauses just long enough to twist the knife.

"Oh -and if either of you so much as touches the surveillance cameras, I’m putting you in a room with Loki for a week of trust-building exercises. You are not allowed to leave the premises. If this isn't sorted out by two weeks from now, someone will bring you more supplies until it is. You two decide how long you want to let your egos get the best of you."

The door slams.

I whip my head toward Bucky. He turns at the same time. We both have a similar glimmer of rage in our eyes.

"This is your fault," we snap in perfect sync.

This is a nightmare.

------

Taglist: @buckysdoll85

[crowdsourcedgender]

My zine, 'Label Coining as an Artform', is finally done! Transcript/Image ID underneath (warning: it's long). Printed version in a reblog.

[Image ID: A series of pages in a zine. The text is handwritten, and all figures described are simplified stick figures.

Page 1: ‘LABEL COINING as an ARTFORM in large text. Below is the multicolored MOGAI wheel, with three figures taking pieces of the colors and using them for art: sculpting, cutting a piece of paper, and painting. Below is ‘a MOGAI (& LIOM!) zine by Elliot/Hesper aka @ crowdsourcedgender on tumblr. Under the text are five pride flags: aro-spec, veldian, alterhuman, xenoman, and schooldoodlic.

Page 2: ‘Label Coining’ in large pink text. ‘(in this context) is the act of creating a word (and usually flag) for a certain experience!’. Next to this text is a figure filled in with pink with a speech bubble full of pink shapes, talking to someone using a cane holding out a hand and expressing a question mark. Below reads ‘generally a queer experience, but does often include or incorporate disability, neurodivergence etc.’ A figure asks ‘Why?’ and the text reads ‘I would say these are the ‘core tenets’:’. In a cloud next to this text is a blue and purple pride flag with purple text reading: ‘like this cool prosopagnosia flag I made!’.

The bottom half of the page is split into two columns: ‘Understanding’ and ‘Community’. The first column has a purple arm amputee explaining a purple rectangle to another purple person who is thinking ‘that’s me!!’. Next to them another purple person is explaining the same rectangle to a blank person, who has a purple-filled thought bubble with a white exclamation mark. Underneath the drawing is text surrounded by question marks: ‘Labels help people understand what they are experiencing, and communicate this to others. It’s easier to explain something when it’s already been written down!” The second column has a purple person holding a purple umbrella. They are waving to a purple person in a wheelchair. A purple person is leading another one to the group. Underneath the drawing is text surrounded by connected dots: ‘People can unite under a shared label whether this group is big or small! Whether for practical purposes (like advice) or just for fun, having people like you is nice.

Page 3: ‘And these are just as important as ever! But I’ve noticed what I like to call COINING for the sake of CREATION’. This last phrase is in large, dark and light blue text. Two sun symbols are on either side. Below is the text: ‘Vexillology is very clearly an artform, but label coining has become something more (not to mention that not all new labels have flags!). It’s composed of multiple skills has become more than the sum of its parts. Any art captures an experience, but label coining is much more explicit about it. And not just people’s experience of their identity! Part of the art of label coining is incorporating other concepts too, e.g. Schooldoodlic A gender related to doodling on school work papers and/or your homework. By spirits-gender-coining on Tumblr.’ The text about Schooldoodlic is small and light teal. Next to the text is its flag.

Page 4: ‘Elements of Label Coining’. The text on this page is separated into four green boxes.

‘Naming: Coming up with the actual word can be tricky. Generally, labels with lots of elements get more leeway with length. It’s important to check that a label isn’t already a word as well.’ Next to this text is more rough, dark green text reading ‘Premade suffixes + prefixes help! And latin (for some languages) as it’s possible to intuit meaning!’ Around the text is a few examples: ‘-vesil’ ‘-musica’ ‘an-’ ‘quoi-’

‘Flag making: Also known as vexillology, this is a pretty big deal. It’s also the most fun for me! You develop a really good sense of color from spending so much recoloring the same three stripes.’ Next to the text is 6 versions of the same pride flag, each with slightly different colors, with a 7th final version with a symbol.

‘Symbol making: Most flags don’t have symbols, but they’re good for groups of labels under a certain umbrella, or just if you have a really good idea.’ Next to this is rough, dark green text reading: ‘I drew three semirealistic flowers for a flag and ended up only using one’ with sad face. Under it is a drawing of a daisy, a pink coneflower, and lavender, which is circled.

‘Descriptions/formatting: Explanations can be artistic in their own right, and formatting is fun to mess with: many people have their own style. Make sure it’s accessible: add image IDs and plain text where applicable. There are a lot of good resources online!’ In dark green text is the phrase ‘Accessibility over Aesthetics’ with an image of a key on top and sparkles below.

Underneath the boxes in light green text is ‘Note: in the right context, any of these can be optional!’

Page 5: ‘If it wasn’t clear, I think this is AWESOME’. Awesome is in large text with yellow radiating lines. Underneath is ‘I’m a MOGAI coiner myself (generally) with about 65 coins at time of drawing. Using something I made, I wanted to demonstrate what a label coining might look like!’ Underneath is four versions of the same pride flag as well as a description, with ‘flag!’ ‘stripe meanings (I don’t normally do these)’ ‘symbol’ ‘name’ ‘pre-existing format’ and ‘experience’ labelled. The description reads ‘[Image ID was here] Human non-conforming (HNC). Human non-conforming (HNC, similar to gender non-conforming) is an umbrella label encompassing all identities and subcultures that somehow incorporate nonhuman elements in any way.’

Page 6: ‘The thing I love most about the label coining community is just that- the community! The way coiners and users interact, as well as how coiners can work together, is wonderful. There are 5 large words each with an associated doodle.

‘Requesting’: A figure leaning on forearm crutches has a speech bubble with yellow shapes exploding out of it. Another figure is taking shapes down from the bubble and forming it into a ball.

‘Collecting’: A figure is pulling a yellow cart with a large cloth bag labelled ‘LABELS’. They have stars in their eyes, and are looking at another person who is gesturing to a yellow rectangle.

‘Collaborating’: Two figures, one with orange speech and one with yellow speech and an AAC tablet are discussing, with many shapes and lines intermingling to make a fragmented rectangle.

‘Combining’: A figure in a grey hijab pulls down a lever. They are standing next to a large blender mixing orange and yellow liquids. On either side is bright yellow lightning.

‘Redesiging’: A small star with four radial lines coming out of it becomes more and more complex, indicated by black arrows.

Under the words is the text: ‘I’ve never participated, but there’s this amazing event called: COINFIGHT. Hosted by @ kiruliom on Tumblr. It’s inspired by artfight, and it involves coining labels for other people- but competitive-ish!’ Coinfight is in large, text with a crescent moon with stars at the top right corner, and a star at the bottom left.

Page 7: ‘I don’t think there’s anything like finding a label that finally fits you, or hearing that something you made did that for someone else.’ Under is a figure looking at an orange flower with light lines, then forming elements of the flower into a bubble, then showing an orange rectangle to another figure, with orange tendrils reaching towards them, forming the shape of a heart. Below is the text ‘There are a lot of things like pouring out your heart- or just having fun- while making or collecting label. I coin in the same mind I sketch and color and shade.’ On each side is a pen drawing an orange figure with a red shirt, and a tablet with an orange and red flag. Under this is ‘Label coining is an artform both like and unlike any other, and I’m proud to participate in it. I hope that if you want to, you can join me. And if that’s not your thing- thanks for reading!’ There is a drawing of a figure with dark grey wings holding up two fingers. Next is a ‘<2’ heart and ‘elliot’ as a signature. In smaller text next to these is ‘Thank you to the creators whose work is featured in this zine! Credit on the next page. Remember to keep this wonderful community and artform accessible to all!’

Page 8: ‘Credit’: This section has a pride flag next to each label. ‘Aromantic-spectum, @ theflagarchive on Tumblr. Turian, @ kenochoric on Tumblr. Schooldoodlic, @ spirits-gender-coining on Tumblr. Xenoman, @ ryanyflags on Tumblr. MOGAI symbol, Pride-Flags on DeviantArt. Alterhuman, @ vaestra on Tumblr. (the flag on pg. 4 is Wildflowergender). ‘About making this zine’: ‘I really, really regret handwriting this. Drawing over Helvetica Neue for so long might change my actual handwriting, [more rough:] which looks like this! According to Artstudio Pro, I took 14 hours! I barely planned this before starting, the color wheel theme and the people doodles. /End ID]

[erodasfishtacos]

F*cking Sellout - NFL!H Part II

prompt: the morning in the hospital trudges up a lot of good and bad memories.

word count: 3.2k words

warnings: angst, brief mention of nausea/throwing up

author's note:

I upload a piece of writing every 1-2 days.

There are multiple other parts of this up and will be updated this month

I recently started a second tier called The OG Tier where 2

one shots (1-4kish) are posted a week.

There are currently 350 + pieces available to read

Tier I - $3 USD where you get access to main stories, everything except the mini one shots.

Tier II - $5 USD where you get access to every piece of writing!

you can check it out here

first ten to click here can get a free $5 membership for a month!

-> NFL collection <-

Harry is awoken to his phone vibrating in his pocket.

For a moment, he is completely disoriented and doesn’t have a clue where he is.

He had been in a deep sleep, when his eyes crack open and he sees that it’s a hospital bed, the first thought is that he had injured himself during the game and was now getting treatment.

It has happened quite a few times over his career, where the on-site trainers couldn’t mend his injury, and he had to go get evaluated at the hospital but never to where he didn't remember the journey there.

But there’s a heavy warmth on his chest, blinking down, it’s fucking jarring to see his high school sweetheart laying across him like she owns him - like nothing has changed in three long years.

There’s a familiarity, that’s not even that right word because it’s stronger than that, to their bodies because they’d been together for eight years.

They had been each other’s first everything from kiss to heartbreak and those were memories that would never be forgotten.

As he stared down at her, he couldn’t get over how pretty she was.

The bruising on her face was absolutely gnarly but it didn’t do anything to hide what was underneath all of it.

A beauty that he would never get over, and through the eight years, he never got used to being with someone who looked like her.

But more importantly, who was as smart, kind, empathic, and downright funny.

Harry had been on PR dates, actual dates, and slept with a few models.

A lot of it was boredom, most of it was, and he didn’t like who he was when he had these random hookups.

He’d been in a serious relationship up until his senior year of college.

He had never cheated or been unfaithful in anyway which meant going into the NFL was a new experience in so many different ways.

The way he projected up as one of the best football players in the league had people drawn to him like he had some magnetic pull.

It was like that in high school and college, but it was easy to dodge any advances from interested individuals because YN was constantly at his side, they didn’t have time or the privacy with him to even get close enough to flirt.

++

Harry was desperately searching for YN in the group of sweaty, drunk college students in the backyard of the frat.

It was a massive party where the boys had strung up cheap fairy lights in rows, set up cornhole boards, and multiple tables for a beer bong championship (Harry always won).

If YN was clung to Harry’s side like a koala, then it was vice versa.

Teammates had made comments in the past, ‘isn’t annoying that she never leaves your side during the parties? Never have any room to breathe.’

He loved the lack of air, the suffocation, if that meant he was constantly accompanied by her.

Never through all the years of their relationship had he ever wanted distance, he never felt overwhelmed or smothered by her - she had always been his safe person.

But the teammates also didn’t see the flipside of that.

When YN wasn't by his side at parties, he was seeking her out, and saddling up to whatever conversation that she was in if he felt like he could without intruding like a prick of a boyfriend.

They didn’t see that when she had gone off to talk to someone else for too long, Harry would find her with a pout and mumble, “Missed you.”

Despite whom Harry was, the face of the football team, the winner of the Heisman trophy, and getting scouted by NFL teams since he was in high school - he had severe social anxiety.

All the attention was fear-inducing for him, he hid it well for interviews but off-the-field, he hated the large crowds, the random people that wanted to hug and talk to him, and the amount of social interaction that he had to have on the day-to-day.

It was constantly a lot for him to process, YN helped, she was always his safe point that he could come back to when his anxiety started to elevate, and she knew every single time how to make it better.

Harry was starting to get the quickening heart rate, the party was loud, everyone was exceptionally drunk, and it was hot outside - enough that the curls peeking out from under his backwards snapback were starting to wilt onto the nape of his neck.

His management team had pretty much forced him into the frat without choice, stating that it would be absurd for the face of the football team to not have a spot in the most desired fraternity on campus, and crushing his dreams of sharing an off-campus apartment with YN.

She was understanding, supportive but he wasn’t blind to the sacrifices she’s made for their relationship since they were fifteen.

Harry much preferred YN’s quiet, single suite that shared a kitchen with three other individual suites.

All of her suitemates were nice, school-oriented girls who were in their own committed relationships.

YN was never one to be involved in drama, she was always rooting for everyone around her, supportive and kind which made a lot of people flock to her, come to her for advice, a shoulder to cry on.

Harry and YN would curl up on her tiny twin mattress, limbs twisted, and he’d still rather be there than his queen size at the frat.

His anxiety was starting to raise which was a sure sign that he was ready to leave the party if YN was.

He had a huge game in two days, no matter how natural of an athlete he was, he still had these near debilitating nerves before each and everyone of them.

It was a blessing and a curse to be ‘the face of the football team’.

As the captain, the MVP, he got all the kudos, awards, and accolades that others could only dream about getting.

He also had the weight of the team riding on his performance.

It always seemed to fall back on him when they lost a game, a flock of pointed questions at the post-game interview that shifted blame to his performance rather than his teammates, and as the captain, he took responsibility.

The music was pounding, vibrating in his ears, and did he mention it was hot?

It was almost impossible for him to make a clear line towards the backdoor of the house without being bombarded by someone slapping him on the back or wanting to talk about the upcoming game for fifteen minutes.

Where was YN?

She had squeezed his hip as he was talking to a friend, telling him that her best friend, Kai, just texted her that she had arrived at the party after her work shift, and she was going to go find her.

There's a large wrap porch that he had a feeling they were on, nobody conjugated out there except to smoke a cigarette or have a private conversation where they didn’t have to be screaming in each other’s faces to hear what they were saying.

There was a rickety wooden porch swing, chains rusted and has probably been hung there since the nineties that YN liked to sit on, curl up like a cat and lay across Harry’s lap when the weather was cool but not chilled yet, the sun warming her.

And his hunch was right.

When he steps onto the porch through the front door, YN and Kai look over with a knowing expression.

There’s nothing but love and concern in her voice when she says, “Ready to go, baby?”

Harry never wants YN to miss out on opportunities to have fun if she had wanted to stay and that made him a little anxious too - that he was constantly ruining her time because he’d rather leave and be alone with her in the dorm.

“I can wait,” Harry assures her, waving to Kai, “I..just when you are, I wanted to let you know. I’ll be ready.”

“We were just bullshitting. I better go find Jackson before he passes out in someone else's backyard again,” Kai cracks a smile, her and Harry got along well, and Harry enjoyed spending time with her boyfriend, Jackson, who was on the team as well.

Kai disappears inside with a pat to his shoulder, mumbling about how muggy the house felt from all of the bodies in such a small, poorly ventilated space.

“Where are you?” YN asks softly as she stands from the swing, walking right into his arms and letting him bury his face in her hair.

“Six,” Harry responds with a sigh, “The game and all these people. It’s just starting to overwhelm me.”

It was a question YN asked a few times a day, if not more, asking where he was - she was checking in on his level of anxiety.

Then she responded accordingly.

“Let’s get you back to mine, yeah?” YN slips her hand under the back of his shirt, sliding upwards and rubbing his tensed muscles, “Get your anxiety down. Have a good night sleep.”

“My anxiety is already starting to lessen,” Harry replies mulishly as he pushes into her touch, the pressure she was putting on his muscles was heavenly, she knew exactly where to press, “It always does when I’m with you. S’just being away from you.”

“I know, it’s a good thing we’ll never be apart, huh?” YN smiles as she thumbs at his spine, there was so much love in every single touch, every time, and he didn’t realize how much he took it for granted until he was alone in bed, cursing everything in existence when all he wants is that contact again.

++

Harry tries not to disturb YN, she definitely was going to need a lot of rest with her injuries and trying to recover.

He manages to slip his phone from his pocket, sliding it up to his ear with a barely audible whisper, “Hello?”

“Styles, Coach Greene wants you on a private jet in an hour. He wants us to get to Dallas to have a strat meeting before practice starts with you. He really feels like you're the key to getting them through. You’re really the only member on the team that he’s not doubting. I already have the jet set up, send me your address so I can get a driver to pick you up,” Harry’s manager, George tells him, he can hear rustling in the background because George would now have to be on that flight too.

“I -” Harry’s eyes darted down to YN, who was sleeping peacefully on him, and this is the thing he has missed for the past three years.

The thing that he had grieved, still hasn’t completely healed from, and if he had been anywhere close to healing - now that wound was ripped open, raw, and oozing.

Possibly even more painful than the first time.

“I’m not supposed to fly out to Dallas until tomorrow,” Harry tells George with frustration, he had quite literally promised YN that he would be here, and he wanted to be here more than anything else, “I…I have shit planned.”

It wasn’t an option, Harry doesn’t even know why he’s arguing.

He’s under a contractual obligation, he really couldn’t say ‘no’ because his life was assumed to be football twenty-four hours during the season, and this wasn’t something that he could blow-off or turn down.

Coach Greene wasn’t asking.

If he refused, not only would it result in a fine for breach of contract but his coaches would surely have consequences for him - extra training hours, extra workouts, the list is endless.

“Harry,” George sighs, he was most likely rubbing the bridge of his nose under his thick-rimmed glasses, “Greene was pretty upset with some of the linemen’s performance yesterday, I don’t think now is the time to push his limits. You know?”

“I’ll send you the address,” Harry relents before hanging up, he was devastated and he didn’t know how he was going to leave her again, after promising her that he’d stay because that’s the main reason she broke it off in the first place was because of too many broken promises.

++ a few weeks before the breakup ++

Harry lets himself into YN’s dorm room after his late-night practice that the coach had called last minute after a few players had gotten in trouble for drinking off campus.

YN was sitting on her bed, still in a pretty flowing dress, makeup done but there were steraks of her mascara that weres starting to stain her cheeks.

She had her phone to her ear, eyes blinking up at Harry as she sniffles, clears her throat, and rasps croakly, “I’ll call you back later, Kai. Yeah, yeah, I know. Yeah. Bye.”

Harry drops his duffle, frown on his face because seeing her upset was the worst thing that he could imagine, “What happened?”

YN swallows harshly, putting down her phone, and her voice is still soft, calm as it always is, “I…I feel like I do so much for you, Harry. Which I want to do, I love supporting you, your career, anything you need. Lately you…It feels very one-sided recently.”

Harry’s stomach starts to churn, hearing her talk like this was horrible, and the worst part was that he knew he had been slacking.

The journey of getting into the NFL had been extensive, stressful, and all-consuming. 

He couldn’t remember to take a shower somedays which led to a lot of different things falling to the wayside.

The biggest thing was the love of his fucking life.

“Did I forget something?” Harry asks with a dry throat, he already knew the answer.

YN chuckles without smiling, “Why do you act like it’s a surprise? You don’t remember anything anymore.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry’s heart was pounding, rushingi nto his ears like he just ran a play, “I’m so sorry, baby.”

“Can you even remember what tonight was?” YN asks as she smooths out a pleat of her dress, trying to stop tears from falling.

He couldn’t.

Harry feels like the biggest piece of shit when he admits, “No, I don’t. I’m sure if you give me a minute-”

“The Young Photographers of America dinner ceremony, where I was nominated for an award?” YN can’t control the tear that slips down her cheek, she couldn’t even look at him.

Harry remembers now the excitement that she had when she found out that her professors had put her up for the award.

“Nut, I-”

YN waves her arm limply to her desk, “I won.”

“Fuckin’ hell,” Harry feels tears stinging, god, he can’t stop messing up, “I’m so-”

“Just…don’t,” YN shakes her head, voice dull and disconnected, “I don’t want to hear it. If you were proud of me you would have been there to support me like every other nominee who had their partner there. I was alone with an empty seat and a place card with your name on it.”

YN had told him that if he didn’t make it to her final’s art gallery, it wasn’t going to be a good thing for their relationship.

It was the first time she’d really ever had an ultimatum, she never had to before, and she thought it would work.

And Harry forgot.

++

“Mm, time s’it?” YN slurs sleepily, wincing as soon as she tries to sit up, “Ow. My head.”

“Whoa, be careful, nut,” Harry calms, dread seeping into every fiber of his being, “You have a pretty gnarly concussion.”

“It’s really painful,” YN groans as she relaxes again, wriggling her body even close to his, and it hurts.

It fucking hurts because he can’t make things right.

“The lights are going to stay off, blinds closed to help. Try to keep your eyes closed as much as possible for now,” Harry reminds her, he wants to cuddle her but his body is tense because he knows he’s about to seal their fate because he’s choosing football. 

“Do you want to watch something with me?” YN sounds so much like his YN, from three years ago, like she hasn’t changed at all, “I can listen. Despite the concussion, I slept so well. I haven’t slept right since we’ve broken up.”

“I…”

YN knows him better than anyone else.

Even from the first syllable.

Her eyes open, narrowing, and she pushes herself to sit up despite the ache in her skull.

“You promised,” YN tells him, voice stern and hurt, her bottom lip was trembling.

“My coach called -”

“Get out of my room,” YN raises her volume which was so out of character for her, “Now.”

“Can I just exp-”

“I’m…I shouldn’t have given you another fucking chance. I knew better. I just see you and have this stupid idea that you’re still the Harry that I fell in love with,” YN pushes herself even further away until they’re not touching, “I can’t believe I- Just leave.”

Harry has never felt more desperate in his life, “Please, it’s my contra-”

“I don’t need excuses. I shouldn’t have put your name on the list, I should have trusted you,” YN turns until her feet are off the bed, hunched over, and retching like she’s going to be sick, “Go get the nurse and leave. Please. My concussion-”

“Okay,” Harry’s response is shaky as he wants to touch her, help her, “I love you.”

He shouldn’t have said it.

But it had to let her know.

“You sure don’t know how to show it,” YN manages through another wave of nausea, “You’re a fucking sellout.”

++

[sprytesukii]

sink your teeth in (never let me go)

isagi yoichi x reader

rating : 18+, explicit, MDNI

wc : 2.5k (:O)

tags : gn!reader (no gendered language used, no anatomy mentioned), dom-leaning reader, subby isagi, possessive!feral!reader, hypersensitive isagi, cumming untouched, biting, blood, multiple orgasms, reader is a little insane and a lot in love, isagi is matching freak, a lot softer than the tags make this seem LOL

an : this is for all my lovers out there who can’t like anything (or anyone) without being a little crazy about it // also had all my darling isagi luvrs in mind (cough cough @/pbk cough cough) , i hope y’all enjoy <3<3

Something is wrong. 

If you hadn’t known Isagi for as long as you have (since you were in diapers, in fact), you might’ve dismissed all the fidgeting, sighing, and a distinct lack of eye contact as nervousness. Anxiousness about his upcoming tournament that’ll have him away from you home for at least a month. 

It’s a big deal and the main reason for his presence in your apartment at all today, going over his old game tapes while sitting on your lumpy couch, clad in one another’s high school hoodies. Your status as one of his oldest friends - one of his only friends, at least from childhood - has granted you permission to give him something, the highest honor of all: your opinion. 

That’s what you’ve been trying to do anyway, giving him your (unearned) insight and (innocent - unqualified) observations, but he’s distracted. 

That’s extremely unlike him. 

You peer at him out of the corner of your eye, watching as he squirms again in his seat, fists clenching into the football shorts he’s wearing. His eyes are bleary and unfocused where they belatedly track his own movement on the television. 

Are you okay? sits heavy on your tongue, but you don’t voice your concern, not yet, not again. You’ve already asked him that at least five different times since he got here an hour ago, and every time, you’ve been rebuffed with a shaky, “reassuring” smile and a clumsy dismissal. 

Not one to keep pushing your nose in where you’re unwanted, you’ve lapsed into the tense silence, contenting yourself to observe him worriedly through your periphery and hoping he’ll come around to revealing whatever is bothering him so bad. 

You don’t hold out hope though — Yoichi is nothing if not stubborn, at least in his emotional independence. You wonder passively if he opens up to his team members, the ones you see him post on social media sparingly, his grin broad and unapologetic in every selfie or group photo that crosses your feed. 

Your gut clenches at the thought. Jealousy rankles, sending heat across your nape and boiling in the pit of your stomach. 

There’s absolutely no reason for you to feel so envious — you know Isagi doesn’t do things he doesn’t want to, that’s always been true, so you can trust that he wants to spend time with you. That he seeks you out for your honesty and friendship and means it. That, if he didn’t like you anymore, he’d have no qualms about ghosting you like he has former romantic partners and ex-classmates. 

Feelings aren’t always logical though, as evidenced by the way your nails bite at your palms, imagining Isagi being a more vulnerable version of himself with people who aren’t you. 

(You’re fully aware these feelings aren’t entirely platonic. Your envy isn’t just based on the fact you were there the first time Yoichi picked up a football, or that you’ve spent many a sleepover wrapped up around each other while a match played quietly on the TV behind you. 

It’s because you like him. It’s impossible not to. While you know the possibility he feels anywhere near what you do is slim-to-none, the idea that he’d choose others who haven’t earned him, who haven’t memorized Isagi the way you have, who don’t truly know him, makes you sick to your stomach.)

You’re swiftly and violently wrenched from your possessive thoughts by the television abruptly going quiet. You blink, looking over at the muted audio of the match in delayed confusion, before swinging your gaze to Isagi who’s staring at you, cheeks pink. 

You aren’t sure how long he’s been trying to get your attention in his roundabout way, how long you were festering in your thoughts. Real concern bubbles up again and you shift to face him completely on the couch, cataloguing the way he tenses when the full brunt of your focus falls on him. 

“Isagi?” you’re careful to keep your voice gentle, unobtrusive, so he doesn’t clam up. “Are you okay?”

He inhales sharply through his nose, his hands clenching into fists hard where they rest against his thighs. 

He shakes his head, no. 

Worry shoots through you like a bolt of lightning and you straighten up, just barely stopping yourself from reaching out to him. 

Instead, you send him a soft smile, laden with as much soothing energy you can muster. “You can tell me what’s going on, Isagi, ‘s okay.”

The rational part of your brain recognizes that you’re babying him a little, that your tone is bordering on too saccharine, but he responds to it, his body unfurling a little from where he was sat so tensely. 

“Something’s wrong with me,” Isagi says, his voice uncharacteristically soft. Shy, almost. You bludgeon the part of you that wants to coo. 

“What d’you mean? Are you sick? Do you need soup? Meds? Electrolytes?”

He waves you off, shaking his head with an incredulous curl of his lip, a shadow of his usual personality, but there nonetheless. Whatever’s going on, it’s not bad enough to completely erase his annoyance at your usual coddling. Good, that’s good. 

“Okay, okay, sorry,” you hold your hands up in surrender, your smile shifting into a grin, one he tries to match and (mostly) succeeds. “If you aren’t dying of an unknown illness, what’s going on?”

This time, you watch him more closely as he formulates his answer, his expression falling as he clearly wrestles with something you can’t see. 

You don’t pressure him, despite the curiosity eating at you. Instead, you turn your head back to the TV, giving him some semblance of privacy so he can sort himself out, despite you both knowing the match is the last thing on your mind. 

Your patience is rewarded moments later, when the television goes black and Isagi calls your name, his voice thready. You whip your head to face him and he’s somehow pinker than before, but the look on his face is resolute. 

“I - it’ll be easier if I show you. What’s wrong with me, I mean. Is that - do you trust me?” He stumbles a little over his words, but his gaze is fixed. Determined. He looks like he does before a game and you can’t do anything but nod. 

“With my life, Isagi.”

A shuddery breath escapes him, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment. When they open, they’re noticeably darker than before, a shiver running down your spine. 

“You can’t - it makes it worse when you say stuff like that,” he rasps, eyes boring into your own. 

Your breath catches. “M-makes what worse?”

Isagi bites his lip and stands, looming over you on the couch. You try to keep your gaze on his face, but his proximity and height makes it borderline impossible. 

Without your consent, your eyes trail down, down, down, past his impressive physique, barely hidden beneath your stupid student association hoodie, until they rest on his crotch. 

You gasp, involuntary. He’s hard. 

Well, hard is really an understatement. He’s absolutely bricked, tip straining against the thin fabric of his shorts and leaking like a faucet. The wet spot makes it look like he pissed himself, there’s so much, and your mouth waters. 

Isagi’s cock kicks hard, the area darkening where the cloth is pulled taut and he hisses. 

“D-don’t look at it like that, fuck,” he grits out, fists tightening at his sides. Your attention flies back up to his red face, so painfully turned on. 

“How am I looking at it?” You sound breathless, even to your own ears, arousal setting you aflame quicker than you thought possible. 

(Leave it to Isagi to excel at literally everything, including activating your libido. You can’t even be surprised.)

Another choked noise falls from Isagi’s bitten, raw lips, dick pulsing visibly, but this time, he shoves a hand past his waistband, clamping it tight around his base. 

Your eyes widen, thighs pressing together from the sheer wave of want that threatens to overtake you, to drown you. He almost came. 

He glares down at you, before his eyes slam shut, whimpering softly like a kicked dog. “Like - like you want it.”

You let out a shaky breath. You do want it, want it more than you think you’ve ever wanted anything (outside of Isagi himself). You want it in your mouth, inside you, anywhere you can get it, get him. 

You refrain from voicing any of this aloud, though, shaking your head like an 8 ball to clear it. When you look back up at Isagi, his eyes are still closed though his dick never stops leaking, despite his fingers acting as an impromptu cock ring. 

“What’s - what is the issue here, Isagi?” You try to sound firm, in control, but you miss by a mile. Lust puts your vocal chords in a stranglehold, making you sound hoarse, like you’d already been sucking him off for hours. (You wish.)

It affects him, the way you say his name, and he gasps, his head falling back, dark strands sticking to the sweat that’s gathered at his hairline. You watch with blown pupils as Isagi wrangles himself together, finally cracking an eye open to pin you. 

“You are. You’re the fucking issue,” It’s the clearest he’s sounded since he started this conversation, and you ignore the way his words pierce you, the heat in your gut souring until he continues. 

“It’s always - always like this when I’m with you. No one else. I can’t - shit - even get it up without thinking about you! And, and when I’m here, I have to jerk off like - like six times just so I don’t cum in my goddamn pants like a teenager! You broke me, you broke my dick, and you - you need to take responsibility for making me like this.”

Isagi’s chest is heaving by the time he’s done, his cock showing no signs of flagging despite his frustration. He looks at you expectantly, skin flushed and eyes wild. 

You feel … you feel proud. It’s fucked up — you should probably feel apologetic. Remorseful.  You should feel bad that your closest friend’s relationships have likely crumbled because of something you inadvertently caused, that he lives in a constant state of sexual discomfort when he spends time with you, that he can’t even find solace in his own hand, but … you don’t. 

The possessive part of you preens that you’ve managed to put your mark on him, that you’ve ruined him for anyone else without even lifting a finger. You’ve always been Isagi’s, but now, he’s yours too. 

A smile spreads across your lips and Isagi’s breath hitches, cock twitching where he grips it, still hidden beneath the dri-fit material of his shorts. 

You slip off the couch and onto your knees in front of him, ignoring the way the carpet presses into your uncovered skin uncomfortably and reveling in the low groan wrenched free from Isagi’s chest. 

“You want me to take responsibility, baby?” you coo, your hands sliding up his toned calves and strong thighs. He tenses hard beneath your touch and proximity, panting through dry lips. “I will, of course. I would’ve done it a long time ago, if you’d just told me. But, you must’ve been scared, hm? Confused as to why your body was doing this to you? You needed me and I wasn’t there.”

You look up at him through your lashes, your grin widening when you see the tears lining his waterline, involuntary. He nods, upset and overwhelmed, unable to answer due to his lower lip tucked firmly between his front teeth. 

Your heart clenches. He’s so sweet. And now, he’s all yours. You rub circles on his inner thighs and his entire body shakes, legs threatening to give out beneath him. He’s holding on admirably, you think, and for that he should be rewarded. 

“I’m sorry,” you start, hands sliding up beneath the hem of his bottoms. “I’m here now, okay? I’ll take care of you, I promise, Isagi.”

You soften your grin as you tilt your head up at him and his eyes go impossibly wide, panic overtaking his features. His mouth drops open on a keening whine, his free hand spasming at his side. 

“F-fuck, fuck, fuck, I - no-“ Isagi chokes on his words as his eyes roll back and he cums. Hard. His hips jerk forward, cock kicking out rope after rope of cum, joining the veritable mess of pre staining his crotch. His muscular thighs quiver beneath your fingertips as his orgasm continues, your name falling from his lips with an unabashed groan. 

You watch on in unabashed delight. You knew he was sensitive since starting this conversation, but you didn’t know just how much of a hair trigger he has, especially because he’s still cumming, drool slipping down his chin and collecting on his chest. On your hoodie. 

From your place on your knees, you have a front row seat to the whole show, taking in every pulse and twitch of his shaft as his orgasm finally tapers off and he collapses to the ground in front of you, like a puppet with its strings cut. 

You can’t stop yourself from crawling closer to him, cupping his softening, drenched cock through his ruined shorts. 

Isagi whines when your hand makes contact, but instead of pulling away, he bucks up into your touch, tilting his head towards you to look at you with bleary, lovestruck eyes. Your breath catches in your throat, sure that your expression matches his (just less fucked out).

“G’na take care ‘f me?” he slurs, his lips cracking into a lazy grin as his dick plumps up quickly, both from your ministrations and the slow grind he’s enacting. 

You’re bowled over by the intense love you’ve tried to ignore for years, threatening to consume you until there’s nothing left but your bleeding heart, resting in the hands of the only person you’ve ever trusted with it. 

Overcome, you lean in and sink your teeth into the side of Isagi’s neck, adding more pressure until you feel the skin break beneath your canines, warm copper flooding your tongue. 

Isagi cries out, tilting his head to the side to give you more room to devour him, piece by piece. His cock pulsates under your hand, another flood of his cum soiling your palm with a quiet whimper of your name. 

He came with your teeth buried in his neck and your touch against the most sensitive parts of him. There's no going back.

You feel your ribs crack open, flaying yourself to make room for this beautiful boy in your chest, knowing you will never, ever let him go. 

The way he looks at you as you lave over the bruised and bleeding skin with your tongue in apology tells you he knows your plans and is more than okay with them, with becoming a willing prisoner in a cell of your own design. 

You pull away smiling, his blood staining your teeth. Isagi smiles right back. 

[jaeyunverse]

kiss cam

pairing: yang jungwon x fem!reader

genres: fluff, frenemies to lovers, high school au, basketball au

wc: 3770

warnings: profanity, mentions of kidnapping

summary: you were fully prepared to spend valentine’s day alone. yang jungwon was fully prepared to blow your mind.

note: i know i’m off season but i still hope y’all enjoy <3

masterlist

It was Valentine’s Week and you were absolutely, extremely, horribly miserable.

You didn’t particularly care about the celebrations, but the feeling of loneliness first began to creep in when the student council appointed a Valentine’s Day Dance committee and made them decorate the entire school. 

There were banners and streamers hanging everywhere. The culinary club was selling heart-shaped cookies and the broadcasting club was busy urging students to get their dance invites every few hours. You wished the PA system would malfunction and they would finally shut up. 

Some boys even had the genius idea to capitalise Valentine’s Day and ask people out on behalf of the students who paid them for their services. They called themselves Cop-Your-Crush. 

Classes were being interrupted all day long. You were witnessing a grand proposal being made multiple times a day. Just today, you had seen three girls being asked out and each proposal had been better than the one before.

Karina got asked out through a song the choir group sang for her. She quite literally burst into tears because her boyfriend, Soobin, still remembered the song they had first kissed to. 

NingNing got asked out when a member of Cop-Your-Crush sweet-talked Mrs. Kim into letting him take over her presentation. He’d prepared a cute montage using the pictures provided to him by her boyfriend. 

Yeji got asked out by the cheerleaders. They had prepared a special cheer for her, courtesy of Heeseung, also a member of Cop-Your-Crush, and his girlfriend, Chaewon, who was cheer captain. They were both Yeji’s best friends and had spared no expense in helping her boyfriend deliver a memorable proposal. 

You thought the entire concept was corny, but it would have been nice to have someone ask you out too. You didn’t even have any expectations. Just a simple Hey, will you be my date to the Valentine’s Dance? would have sufficed. 

Needless to say, you were irritated and cranky. You were debating begging your mom to let you skip school tomorrow. It was the thirteenth of February, so Valentine’s spirit was definitely going to be at an all-time high. 

You slammed your locker door shut. Slumping against it, you clutched your books to your chest and sighed deeply. If only you had the courage to ask your crush to the dance. It was sort of surprising that he still didn’t have a date. 

He was really attractive and really popular. You wondered why—

“Keep moving, dummy,” a voice popped from behind you, and you couldn’t help the groan that left your mouth. Deciding to not acknowledge the person further, you pushed yourself off the locker and turned to leave in the opposite direction. However, they seemed to have different plans for you. Throwing an arm around your neck, Yang Jungwon twisted you around and said, “Class is this way.” 

“Piss off, Yang,” you snapped, trying to not stumble as he dragged you along. 

“Are you coming to the basketball game tonight?” Jungwon inquired.

He wasn’t much taller than you, so when you glanced up at him, you found your faces only a few inches apart. “Why?” 

“We’re playing Riverside High. You know there’s a bet between our schools, right? Losers have to jump in the lake at midnight.” 

“Okay. Let me know if you lose and I’ll meet you there to enjoy your humiliation.” 

Jungwon narrowed his eyes and flicked your forehead. You let out a sound of protest and slapped his hand away. “You think you’re so funny.”

“I think I have better things to do,” you retorted. “I’m supposed to pick up my sister after her soccer practice and drive her to her friend’s house for a sleepover.” 

“That can be taken care of,” he answered immediately. “Riki will do the chauffeuring in your place.” 

You snorted. “No.” 

“C’mon!” Jungwon complained, moving to stand in front of you. You crossed your hands and raised an eyebrow. “I need you at the game tonight.” 

“Why?” 

“Because—” he hesitated— “because we always win when you’re watching from the stands. You’re our lucky charm.”  

Jungwon was making absolutely no sense. The Bears of Eastwood High were one of the best. They didn’t require lucky charms to win games. Besides, you’d never benefited from the so-called fortune Jungwon claimed you possessed. He definitely had an ulterior motive for wanting you at the court tonight. 

“You won the Christmas game,” you pointed out. “I wasn’t there that day. I was with my family at my childhood home.” 

“Well, I thought you were at the game,” Jungwon corrected. “That’s why we won.” 

You sighed and rolled your eyes. Stepping past his figure blocking your way, you said, “You need to get rid of these superstitions.”  

“Please!” he begged, following after you the way a lost puppy would. “Winning tonight would give us a ticket to regionals! Can’t you let me have this?” 

The desperation in his voice was so evident that you couldn’t help the crack that appeared in your resolve. You weren’t one to believe in luck, but you still carried an Omamori to stay safe. 

You hadn’t exactly been the recipient of any good fortune lately, but your life had been sailing smoothly. Come to think of it, you’d probably subconsciously begun to depend on the charm. 

You were a hypocrite for making fun of Jungwon’s superstitions. 

“Fine,” you relented. “I’ll come. But—” you added immediately upon seeing a wide grin replace the pout on his face— “after I’m done with my chores. I’m not leaving Hyeri with Riki. He crashed his car into a trashcan last week. I was with him. My life flashed in front of my eyes.” 

Jungwon looked slightly amused. “Do you think you might be able to make it before half-time?” 

“Easily.”

“Nice,” he popped. The two of you had arrived at your classroom, so he ruffled your hair and bid you goodbye before making his way towards his friend group. “I owe you one.”

“Yeah, you do,” you muttered to yourself.

You finished dropping your sister earlier than expected. 

Her soccer practice had run short and when you’d checked your watch after seeing her off, you’d realised that the first quarter of the game would be ending in a few minutes. 

You glanced up at the screen displaying the scores as you walked into the gymnasium. 

8-3. Eastwood High in the lead. 

Good luck was a scam. Shaking your head, you searched for your best friend, Eunchae, in the stands. Your eyes stopped on a girl who was aggressively waving her hands in the air. 

You smiled and waved back, making your way to her. 

“I was worried you’d be late,” Eunchae said. 

You hummed. “Hyeri finished her practactice early so I was able to get here quicker. I don’t even know why Jungwon asked me to come. We’re in the lead.”

“Better safe than sorry,” she popped. “Second quarter just started. We should pay attention.” 

You turned to look at the court. While you’d been talking to her, Riverside had scored a 3-pointer. Eastwood was only 2 points ahead now. 

You could hear both schools’ coaches screaming despite the loud noise of the audience. Cringing a little when Mr. Jung blatantly cursed at Jungwon and told him to get his head out of his ass, you decided Eunchae had been right about being better safe than sorry. 

“Timeout!” Riverside High’s coach yelled. “Timeout!” 

The whistle rang and the playing 5 went jogging over to the sidelines. Jungwon’s eye caught yours as he scanned the stands and you waved at him awkwardly. He smiled and waved back, looking rather relieved to see you. 

“You guys are so cute,” Eunchae commented.

You whirled on her. “Excuse me?” 

“I’m just saying!” she exclaimed, raising her hands defensively. “Jungwon and you would make a really good couple.” 

“What makes you think so?” 

“Other than the fact that he’s completely whipped for you?” Eunchae shrugged. “You’re into him as well. No! Don’t give me that look! I know you are. I’m not fucking blind, Y/N. You say he’s annoying but I don’t see you pushing him away. I think you love the attention he gives you.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, suddenly feeling awfully exposed. “You’re delusional.” 

“Am I though?” She raised an eyebrow. “You both are together all the time. You can pretend all you want, but I know your petty and childish banter is just a cover for the horrible amount of flirting that’s hidden underneath.”

“I don’t flirt with him!” 

“He flirts with you and you entertain him! You claim to dislike him but hang out with him at school everyday! An idiot could tell by looking at you how much you enjoy being around him.”

You glared at Eunchae. “I don’t appreciate being psychoanalysed.” 

“You just don’t appreciate the truth.” She shrugged. “I don’t know what’s stopping you from asking him out to the dance, but I hope you come to your senses. You don’t wanna regret missing out on someone who cares so much for you.”

Thankfully, the whistle rang before you could formulate a reply. The game began again, and you focused your attention on the court. 

It was Eastwood’s way and the ball was in Jungwon’s hand. He aimed high and his eyes set on Jake who was standing at the far end of the court. However, instead of throwing the ball with all his might, he only flicked his wrist. 

The ball bounced between a Riverside player’s legs, and Heeseung, who was waiting a little behind him, grabbed the ball immediately. Instead of dribbling, the boy passed the ball right back to Jungwon. 

Jungwon caught it without stopping and sprinted to Eastwood’s side of the court. Your jaw dropped when you saw him manoeuvre his way through Riverside’s defence so flawlessly. Even though you’d watched him play multiple times, you’d never really been able to comprehend how good he was. 

He’d covered the court by himself without needing to stop or backtrack. It was as if he knew the opponent’s move even before they decided to make it. 

The crowd went wild the moment Jungwon executed the layup effortlessly. The whistle for half-time blew a few moments after and Eunchae turned to you. 

“That was so good!” she squealed. “He could go pro so easily!”

“He could,” you agreed. “He really is very good.”

You had to admit—watching Jungwon in his element made your heart beat at speeds you didn’t even know it was capable of reaching. You convinced yourself it was the adrenaline and the anticipation from watching the game. Your dad never sat still whenever he watched his favourite team play in the World Cup. 

“It’s time for the Kiss Cam.” Eunchae nudged you with her elbow. You turned to look at the big screen hanging from the roof of the gymnasium. The camera focused on Juyeon and Chaeyeon. The couple grinned and pointed at their recording on the screen in excitement before the latter grabbed the former’s collar and pulled him into a kiss. 

You felt a smile form on your face. You’d always thought the two of them were one of the cutest couples in your school. 

The camera then focused on Mr. Hwang, your biology teacher, and Mrs. Jung, your calculus teacher. You hooted and joined everyone else in the stands as they encouraged the two teachers to kiss. 

Whoever had decided the Kiss Cam victims was a genius. Mr. Hwang and Ms. Jung were the youngest faculty members in your school. It was a popular opinion amongst students that they looked cute together. Some even placed bets on whether it would be Mr. Hwang to make the first move or Ms. Jung. 

Naturally, the two of them didn’t kiss. They just smiled in embarrassment and waved at the camera, asking it to focus on someone else instead. 

You waited eagerly to see who the drone would target next. A jolt passed through your body when you saw yourself on the screen. 

Eyes widening, you shook your head and tried to tell them that you were single. The camera didn’t move despite your protests, instead zooming out to include Eunchae in the frame instead. 

You paused. 

Looked at her.

Considered. 

Raised an eyebrow. 

“I’m down if you—”

“To your left, you idiot!” she exclaimed, grabbing your shoulders and whirling you around. 

Yang Jungwon was standing in front of you with flowers in his hands. His hair was dripping with sweat and his cheeks were flushed. He was panting, but there was a shy smile on his face.

Your heart stopped as he got down on his knees and the entire gymnasium burst into cheers. 

“Hey,” he popped. 

“Hey,” you answered with much effort. Then added stupidly, “You’re on your knees.” 

“No comment about the flowers?” 

“Not when you’re on your knees for me in front of the entire school.” 

“Oooh, I didn’t know you were so kinky.”

“I didn’t know this was why you begged me to come to the game.” 

He laughed and the sound was like music to your ears. You were nervous. You were rambling. There was no way he was going to ask you to the dance. He wouldn’t be stalling so much if he was. He wouldn’t—

Oh. 

He was giving you time to wrap your head around what was happening. This was clearly intended to be a well-planned surprise meant to catch you completely off-guard. He—

“Yeah, I would’ve been really bummed out if you hadn’t shown up. My efforts would have been for nothing.” 

“So I’m not actually your lucky charm?” 

“Of course, you are. I feel the luckiest when I’m with you.” Your chest swelled with an emotion you couldn’t identify. The gymnasium faded into the background and all you could hear was the sound of your heart thudding against your ribcage and Jungwon’s voice as he asked, 

“Will you make me lucky again by accompanying me to the Valentine’s Dance?” 

The game had ended twenty minutes ago. 

Eastwood had won by 10 points. You’d thought the difference was pretty good but your Mr. Woo, your school’s coach, didn’t seem to share your opinion. He’d claimed that Riverside never even should have been able to get within 15 points of Eastwood.

He’d been especially tense in the second half of the third quarter when the opposition had begun scoring back to back baskets. It had all worked out in the end nonetheless, all thanks to Yang Jungwon, the MVP of the match. 

You still couldn’t believe he’d asked you out and you refused to believe he’d done it in such a grand way. 

He was the definition of a jock and goofed around in school all day long. He was charming, sure, but you’d never known he was capable of pulling off something this big. 

You’d never even suspected he was a romantic. 

Your phone dinged and you unlocked it to check who was texting you. 

[eunchae]: wya? 

[y/n]: parking lot!! are u here? i’m leaning against my car

[eunchae]: noo i’m home :( btw are u still waiting for him?? 

[y/n]: yeah he asked me to but the team hasn’t come out of the gym yet

[eunchae]: yikes i heard mr. woo was hella mad we only won by 10 points.. maybe he’s yelling at the players right now

[y/n]: i’m p sure he is LMFAO

Your fingers hovered over your phone’s screen as you waited for Eunchae to type her reply. However, before she could send it, you felt the device being grabbed from your hand. 

“What the—” you started, but relaxed when you saw Jungwon standing in front of you with an amused expression on his face. “Yang.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Someone could have easily kidnapped you, you know?” 

“We live in the most boring part of the town.” You snorted. “Baek Seung threatening to chop his neighbour’s tree on local TV was the most interesting thing that happened this year.”

“That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be on your guard,” Jungwon said and moved next to you, leaning against the side of your car as well. He was wearing black sweats and a red hoodie. He smelt of cheap soap and his hair was damp, making you realise that he had probably showered. “Besides, Baek Sung actually followed through. We have a real criminal in our ranks.” 

“Didn’t you literally let five sheep loose in our middle school three years ago?” 

“That was just a harmless middle school graduating prank.”

“There’s no such thing as a middle school graduating prank.”

“Tell that to the current 8th graders who are planning their prank. I hear they’re going to stuff the hallway outside the principal’s office with helium balloons so she won’t be able to leave.”  

You stared at him, a small smile playing on your lips. Jungwon’s eyes dropped to your mouth for a millisecond before he looked into your eyes again. 

“Why did you ask me to the dance?” you asked and turned on your side to face him. It was a stupid question but you were genuinely curious. 

Eunchae was right before. Jungwon flirted with you all the time and you always entertained him. You enjoyed the attention he gave you. But if this thing between you was just platonic, and if it was never going to progress into something real, you needed to know now. 

You didn’t want to hope and wait for something that was never going to happen. 

“Sunoo said I was an idiot for not shooting my shot with you,” he replied and turned on his side too. “He threatened to make a move on you if I didn’t get my shit together before Valentine’s Day.” 

You snorted. 

“Oh, also,” Jungwon added. “I really, really like you.” 

You felt a tidal wave of emotions override your senses. Euphoria, nervousness, breathlessness, giddiness, uncertainty and this inexplicable urge to squeal washed over you. 

Your heart went haywire inside your chest when Jungwon leaned closer to you and dipped his head so that his face was right in front of yours. 

“You’re blushing,” he whispered. 

You squeaked and buried your face in your hands. He grabbed your wrists and gently moved them out of the way. “Can I kiss you?” 

“I think that would be a health hazard,” you croaked, looking at anywhere but him. “My heart is beating concerningly fast right now. What if I drop dead?” 

“I can do CPR.” 

The corner of your mouth quirked up in a small smile. Your heart beat slowed down and you began feeling at ease. You wondered if Jungwon could tell that this was the first time someone had confessed to you. 

The entire concept of dating and being in a relationship was foreign to you. You doubted Jungwon had much experience in the field himself since he’d only had one girlfriend in kindergarten, but he seemed confident. 

You trusted him to take over the wheel and guide you through the strange waters of love. 

“Okay,” you breathed and closed your eyes. “Kiss me.” 

His hands cupped your cheeks, his soft lips brushing against yours. You sucked in a breath and just stood there, not really knowing what to do. 

Your hands itched to grab onto something, so you shifted closer to Jungwon and clutched the front of his hoodie in your fists. 

He smiled against your mouth as you rose on your toes and tilted your head to the side. 

But then you realised something and hastily broke the kiss. Jungwon stared at you in confusion, but before he could ask what was wrong, you blurted, “I like you too.” 

There was a pause. He didn’t say anything for a long moment, so you clarified, “I thought I should make that clear. I mean, you confessed but I didn’t confess back even though I feel the same way and what if you thought I wasn’t into you. I am into you, by the way. I’ve been crushing on you since forever but I never knew how to say it—” 

Jungwon swooped in for a second kiss and you melted in his arms. You could get used to the feeling of his lips on yours. They fit together perfectly.  

“You are so cute.” He giggled after detaching his mouth from yours. Resting his forehead against yours, he continued, “Eunchae told me last week. She urged me to confess because she knew your stubbornness would never allow you to make the move.” 

“What?” you exclaimed, jerking away from him. “Where’s my phone? Give me my damn phone, Yang!” 

He grabbed arms before you could lunge at him and search him for your device. “Relax!”

“I’m going to kill her!” 

“Why?!” 

“Because—” you sputtered, struggling to get out of his grip— “because it’s embarrassing! I was pretending to not like you but you knew I was crushing on you the entire time!” 

“It’s not embarrassing!” Jungwon said. “It’s normal—Y/N stop!” 

You let your body fall limp in his arms. “I’m going home. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“You’re seriously not going to let Eunchae’s nosiness stop us from having our first date, are you?”  

“What?” you asked and moved out of his grip.

He shrugged and shoved his hands into pockets. “It’s nothing special. I was going to ask if you wanted to go out for some food.” 

“Oh,” you replied blankly. “Don’t you have a celebratory dinner with your team though?” 

“I can ditch them.”  

“You shouldn’t.” 

“Let me correct myself: I already ditched them. I want to spend tonight and celebrate with you.” 

Your heart swelled with happiness. “Really?” When was the last time someone outside of your parents prioritised you? You genuinely couldn’t remember. 

“Of course. Do you wanna get some McDonald’s?”

You nodded, but before he could make his way to the passenger’s seat of your car, you said, “Just so you know, I feel the luckiest when I’m with you too.” 

Yang Jungwon kissed you for the third time, and by no means was it the last, or even close to the last one you shared that day.  

[horrorsboyfrie]

Loser!Zandik being crushed on by Popular!Reader

(masc terms on reader+ it's the typical corny social butterfly × weirdo shit, queer edition, honestly + Zandik displays traits of autism + a little murderous♡)

Zandik, as per usual, was spending the night's time in the library. It was quiet, for the most part. While a lot of his fellow peers were focused on finding answers for their own satisfaction, even those who viewed their values and research to be above everyone else's had someone to keep them company; for that reason, they often chose to borrow the necessary books and study in their respective dorms, or the dorms of their friends. Some did indeed prefer the setup of the library's sections and desks, but even so, the peaceful atmosphere was not interrupted by them.

Zandik sat on a table at the very ends of the room. He had a pile of books to his right; some half opened, and others neatly stack on top of each other. He had his notebook and pens nearby, taking notes of anything he deemed crucial knowledge for his personal projects.

Not long had he been entangled in his theories when a specific group of students decided to make an appearance. They could be heard from miles away— and it just so happened that they chose to sit on a table to his right. Malicious intent, no doubt. These people tended to act as if Zandik was some foreign species to be studied; as if he was a sort of a subject that needed constant supervision.

Of any day to endure the constant speculations and disgusted or concerned expressions towards him, today was not the right one. Nothing too horrific had happened to him, not something that would matter to an average person, at least. It's just that he slept wrong, causing him to wake up with slight neck pain, which played a role in worsening his already short temper, which in turn made his sensory issues towards his clothes, especially his socks, far more insufferable than they had to be. He was one unexpected move away from having a meltdown.

Yet again, he managed to ignore the obnoxiously loud 《whispers》 that sprouted out of those filthy rat-filled mouths of theirs, as Zandik's already-overwhelmed mind decided to call them.

Unfortunately for him, the multiple different voices started chanting even more nonsense as you walked towards the table— he could see that you were dreading it. Was everyone so damn bothered by his existence? You were known to be such a sweetheart— contrast to majority of boys there— by those who've interacted with you, but to be fair, none had a reputation quite like Zandik's, so it's no wonder you resented him, as everyone else did.

"Why'd we have to sit here?" he heard you emphasize. He looked your way; he could see the grins on the faces of your friends, the way they seemed to be picking on someone, hushed whispers, mentioning his name time after time, as if he wasn't barely three chairs away. Gods, his patience was running thin.

"Can we just switch seats?" He listened as you practically begged your friend, who was sitting on the complete opposite end of the table. As much as he may have claimed (to himself, seeing as he had none to actually confide in) not be a man driven by emotion, his worse sensory days were tempt to be a catastrophe in every way possible. He left soon after he heard those mumbles; he was too sensitive for his own good, even if he dismissed that fragile soul of his with walls of anger and apathy.

Your friends seemed to notice before you, the fact that he was no longer in the room. All you got was endless teasing about how you've missed your chance or about the fact that you probably 《intimidated》 him. Bullshit, no? You sighed as the group split up again, each going ahead to do their own thing. The only true reason they decided to meet up here was to force you into talking to him. That did not quite work out, it seems.

You hurried to leave as well, when you noticed a small pen on the ground. That must be his; you always see him writing with that specific shade of blue. It's not like nobody else in the whole Akademiya owned the same one, but he was sitting on the table you found it under. You decided to hold on to it. Perhaps it would be an opportunity to finally have a conversation with the guy!

On your way back to the dorms, you noticed him nearing his own room. Maybe now's the time to return him his belongings— especially considering how he seemed to be searching his pockets. His face was indifferent when he realized he didn't have the pen on him, but his hands were trermbling; a hint of anxiety perhaps? One could only speculate. You decided to leave him on his own. He probably wasn't up for company or conversation anyway.

The following few days weren't quite like you expected. Usually, you'd manage to get at least a glance your way by him; laughing at stupid jokes, bumping into people or objects that you could have easily avoided, accidentally saying things a bit too loud. Nothing worked this time. It's as if he purposefully was avoiding you; a fact that got confirmed after you tried walking towards him. He saw you—he made sure you saw his look, he held it for a couple of seconds— and then he walked away. Fuck, there's no way this guy wants anything to do with you.

Weeks later, you had grown to forget ever owning that pen of his; actually, you started using it for yourself. If you can't give it back, then why not use it for yourself?

Zandik, despite trying his hardest to keep his stares away from you and your friends (and pretty much everyone else in that damned building), couldn't help but notice that his long-gone favorite pen is under your possession.

After the very last class of the day, he decided to give you a visit; your fate had been decided by him already. He's done what he's done in the Eleazar hospital and got away with it. It wouldn't be hard to add another body into the endless pile of disappearances; he knew how to keep suspicion off his shoulders.

Perhaps it was a bit too far. He was letting his rage get the better of him; but gods, he really hadn't felt at ease writing with anything else. "His death would make no logical sense to my goals," he sighed as he reminded himself. "What sort of researcher puts his emotions above his values?" He groaned— frustrated both at himself for considering such a solution to his problems, and at the situation itself.

Times like these, he'd go to his special place to sit and think; it was a big tree, near a lake. Children would often talk about their encounters with the Aranara there. At first, he only ever visited that place so he could find one creature and take it for himself, but he grew quite comfortable being there.

He grabbed the opportunity by its hand once he spotted you all alone; sitting with your back against that very same tree that he favored. As if you had a seventh sense, you turned around to see him. He wasn't quite prepared to be greeted with a smile. It caught him off guard; why were you, of all people, showing any form of sympathy for him?

"I was hoping you'd be here" you said, handing him the pen that he has been desperately trying to get a hold of again.

[lokidjarin-7567]

Can you write a fanfic (only if you're comfortable of course) pairing kang dae-ho x f!reader, during the lights out. Basically they've developed a really strong connection since the beggining, and she's sleeping next to him while he's looking out for others (ok he's just basically watching you sleep). But you shift your position while sleeping and he sees sh scars on your wrist, and folds your sleeves and he sees multiple cuts and scars. You wake up from the motions and you see him with teary eyes and then you start to cry a lot, like having a panic attack and he comforts you and it's just a lot of fluff basically. (the reason from your cuts can be because you're deeply depressed and you're coping that way since you're 15 but at 21 you still do it)

But, if you don't feel comfortable writing about sh can you please write one also during the light out when dae-ho is on the look out and the reader is trying to sleep, but she's so scared of what's going to happen that she starts crying, he notices it, she has a panic attack and he pulls her to his lap comforting her (again really fluffy).

I'm almost one year clean so I was craving this kind of comfort, thank you <3

Your wish is my command 🫡 (sorry so cheesy)

Creature Comforts

Kang Dae-ho x reader

CW: mentions of self harm, please please do not read if you’re not comfortable with this!!, fluff and comfort

So happy to get this request - my first one!! Please send any in if you have them, I love writing them <3 And please message me if you’re having thoughts about SH or struggling with it at all, my DMs are always open 🩷

Masterlist | AO3

She looked so peaceful when she slept. She was curled up on the mattress beside where he was keeping guard, her chest rising and falling with each breath. It was mesmerising. Her hair was fanned out across the pillow, some straying into her face, strands lying delicately on her cheek. The lower half of her body was covered with a thin blanket, her top half cuddled into her jumper.

He had never seen her this calm. They had gotten close quickly in these games - the fear and horror acting as a catalyst for friendship - and he found himself getting protective over her fast. They’d first met after the first game, when Thanos and his lackey had approached her to join their little group, and he’d felt the inexplicable urge to tell him she was already spoken for. Surprisingly, she agreed with him quickly, saying she had already made her allies and hurried quickly away from that purple-haired joke. She thanked him wholeheartedly when they were out of earshot, confirming that there was something about him that made her uncomfortable so she appreciated being saved (her words, not his.) They had been inseparable since - sharing meals, sticking together in games, voting together, even bunking next to each other. When Gi-hun said that two people should always be keeping watch tonight, they didn’t even have to say they would take their shift together - it was just assumed.

But when the time came, he couldn’t bring himself to wake her up. She looked ethereal in the dim light of the room, her hair like a halo, the sound of her breathing a symphony to his ears. Soothing. He could watch her for hours, totally enthralled and at peace. His hand moved to brush a piece of hair from her face, feeling the softness of the lock between his fingers, fingertips lingering just a moment too long on the soft skin of her cheek. So he just sat beside her. He wasn’t tired yet; he could take her shift. Anything to protect her really. A few extra hours can be the difference between life and death here.

The rise and fall of her body suddenly changed rhythm, a deep sigh escaping her lips. She rolled over in her sleep to face him, and he held his breath, scared that the smallest shift might wake her. She settled back in quickly though, and he watched with a soft smile as her arms fell beside her body, head snuggling into the pillow.

He wanted to wake up like this every morning, hearing her gentle sighs and soft snores, to see the peace on her face before she woke. He had only known her a few days, but it felt like a lifetime when they spent every minute fearing for their life. He felt so unbelievably protective of her so fast. He didn’t think she was incapable of handling herself - she’d proven the opposite through this ordeal. But he didn’t want her to have to worry about that ever again. As soon as they were out of there, he would do anything to make sure she wasn’t scared ever again.

Her hair had fallen across her face again, and in the dim light, he worked carefully to move it, tucking it gently behind her ear. Then he noticed her blankets falling down a little, pooling around her waist, so he pulled it up to her shoulders. Then the cuff of her jacket was slipping, so he gently grabbed the fabric, moving to fix her sleeve, when he noticed something. There were a few scars there, barely noticeable in the dim light of the room, so he allowed his curiosity and protective nature get the better of him. Ever so cautiously, he slipped her sleeve down just a little, just enough to see the scars that littered her forearms. Some were newer than others, others long since healed, but they were unmistakable.

His heart hurt for her. Life in these games was hard enough, but he could only imagine what awaited her outside to have to…

He wasn’t sure what to do. If he addressed it, he might lose her trust. She might get embarrassed that he knew and withdraw. If he didn’t, and she somehow worked out that he knew, she would think he didn’t care.

It wasn’t something he understood completely - a few of his friends from the military struggled with self-harm, but he didn’t tend to ask them too many questions. They had PTSD, so maybe she had that too? Or something else that was making her hurt badly enough to… all he really knew was that she didn’t have any healthy avenues to alleviate her stress and emotion. He wanted to help, to hold her and tell her everything would always be okay around him, that she shouldn’t ever hurt herself again… but he knew that was condescending and naive. What he really needed to do was let her talk to him if he wanted, listen, and if there was anyway she wanted him to help, he would…

His plans were foiled though, as she woke slowly, eyes blinking open. He was lost in thought, fingers still hooked around her cuff, and he was frozen as her eyes widened, locking on her arms and where his skin was against her. She started to back away, shuffling quickly as she adjusted, fear taking over her features.

“What’re you…” she muttered quietly, pulling her sleeves back to her hands as tears started to form in her eyes.

“I’m sorry…” he blurted out quickly, face turning red. “You turned over and I saw something so I was curious, I didn’t mean to wake you I… I’m so sorry.” She had pulled her knees to her chest, shaking slightly. “Hey, listen to me, it’s ok, it’s all ok, I…” he slowed down when he realised she was crying, her whole body heaving with deep, pained breaths, her hands fisting the blankets around her. He muttered her name quietly, but she didn’t respond, her legs falling down as her breathing got more and more erratic.

Oh God, he’d ruined everything.

***

It had happened so quickly. One minute you were asleep, the next, you opened your eyes to see Dae-ho beside you. At first, you were happy just to see him, his face and demeanour and everything about him a comfort to you throughout this game. Then you noticed the way he was looking at you. A mixture of pain and confusion and worry was contorted across his face, and then you saw where he was looking.

Your sleeve must had rolled in your sleep, and he was looking at your now bare wrist, his fingers softly brushing against it. You snatched her arm away quickly, fear clouding your mind as you shuffled back.

He had seen.

Oh God, I’ve ruined everything.

There was no questioning that fact. He knew. One of your deepest secrets, one of the things you were most ashamed of. And now, the person you trusted most in here knew. What would he think? Would he view you differently? As weak? As insane? As someone who didn’t deserve to be here around people who wanted to live more than you?

All you had ever wanted was to be seen as normal. And however awful this place was, you finally had that. You had found someone who viewed you as an equal, an ally even. You weren’t the unstable girl who cut herself, or the friend no one could rely on due to unpredictable bouts of depression or anxiety, or the shitty daughter who kept to herself. You were helpful, normal even. But now?

You hadn’t noticed your breathing start to shallow until it was too late. Your vision started to go fuzzy, mind screaming that you’d let someone too close, that they would never see you the same and it was all your fault. Again.

You heard him call your name, but it felt far away, like you were trapped in a bubble and everything outside was muffled. You were paralysed with an inexplicable terror, tears streaming down your face.

Unsurprisingly, given where you were, it wasn’t the first time you’d had a panic attack in front of him. They’d been pretty consistent, after every game, during some, but now, somehow this was the worst. For some reason, someone truly knowing you was scarier than the prospect of looming death.

It took a while for your vision to come back into focus, and when it did, all you could see was his face.

“Hey, look at me, breathe, ok? Here…” he carefully placed his hand on yours, and when you didn’t pull away, picked it up and held it to his chest. “Follow my breaths, ok? In….” You did your best to follow along, stuttering slightly, but he smiled ever so softly even if you weren’t doing it perfectly. “Good, and out..” He repeated the motion a few times, and you followed until your breathing was steady enough to talk. “There we go.” He muttered gently, a hand straying to your face to wipe away the tears that had fallen.

“I’m so sorry, Dae-ho…” it was all you could choke out, already close to tears again, but he shushed you quickly.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. It’s none of my business, but I need you to know that I would never judge you… not for anything. Especially not for something that isn’t your fault.”

“Of course it is, I…”

“It’s not. Do you hear me? It’s not your fault. You’re doing your best and I’m here for you. As long as you know that, that’s all that matters.” You were crying again, his words a comfort you had never heard before. Not a moment after the first tear fell his arms were around you, pulling you tight to him and pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. You couldn’t even speak to thank him, so you squeezed his arm instead, feeling him smile into the top of your head. You had never felt so much kindness before, so much understanding… and maybe it said something about the people around you, but you couldn’t think about that. Right now, all you could think about was the way he was holding you close, the way his breaths aligned with yours, and the way he made you feel like everything was actually going to be ok.

[messylxve]

old flame | aaron hotchner x reader

part two

content warning: angst, yearning, sad hotch, tension is THICC, mentions of abduction, guns, pregnant character, angry cops

pt1 pt3

Aaron still thinks about you most days. There was not much he clung onto from his years before, but you were one of the few he couldn’t let go of.

He supposed it was because you were one of the few things he never got closure for. You had just disappeared one day, completely untraceable as if you never wanted to be seen by him again.

And he didn’t know why.

It was a rather quiet day in the BAU. Morgan and Prentiss goofed off while Reid rambled on about…something. Aaron stuck it out in his office per usual.

He should have been doing paperwork, but his mind wandered elsewhere. It wandered to the picture in his wallet. He gazed at it sadly, wondering when it all went wrong.

The picture was of you and him: a selfie taken on a camera from when the two of you went to a store late at night and decided to cart each other around in the shopping carts.

Strange how some of the happy memories he had left, were of you.

“Hotch.”

He flipped his wallet shut, his attention now on JJ as she stood at the doorway of his office. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” he cleared his throat. “What do you have?”

“Multiple abductions in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. Two girls, a woman, and a boy. All ranging in ages, but all related to officers under the police force.”

“What’s the time difference between each?”

JJ shook her head, flipping through one of the folders. “Three days.”

Hotch quickly pocketed his wallet and stood from his desk. “We’ll do the debriefing on the jet, alert the others. Wheels up in 10.”

To say it was chaos in Harrisburg Police precinct was an understatement. Phones rang endlessly, people rushed around and the sound of arguing echoed from the chief’s office.

“It's not usually like this,” one officer greeted. “This has become personal for a few of us and they aren't taking it lightly.”

Hotch scanned over the precinct, the uneasiness in the air radiating out to his team. “I suggest you take those officers off the case. We can't afford any distractions from anyone to interfere with this.”

“That's what were working on,” he nodded over to the office where four uniformed individuals crowded around a desk. “They aren't making it easy.”

Hotch’s frown deepened before looking around. “Do you have a space for my team to set up?”

“Yes, right this way,” he motioned for the group to follow him before turning back to Hotch. “Chief wants you in her office before we begin breaking things down.”

“Thank you.”

Hotch didn't know why he didn’t suspect something when he heard the shouting the first time. Walking closer, he realized he knew that voice. It was the voice that had haunted him for years.

“Do not question my authority again. The four of you are suspended from this case. If I hear another complaint, argument or so much of a whisper about my decision your guns will be confiscated until the case is closed. Am I clear?”

Aaron’s heart stuttered. His hand found the doorframe to grip as he watched in awe.

A small chorus of ‘yes chief’ followed your reprimand from all but one officer.

“Am. I. Clear. Smith?”

The man grit his teeth, staring you dead in the eye. “Yes chief.”

“You’re dismissed.”

Each officer left the room, leaving the two of you alone and suddenly you felt like kids all over again.

“Aaron.”

“y/n,” he breathed out. “I didn’t know—,”

“Neither did I,” you interrupted, knowing exactly what he was talking about. You felt your defenses slip away for the first time in a long time in his presence. You hated to admit it but it felt good. Seeing him again despite all of the years away.

But that look in his eyes, the pain and heartbreak. It took you right back to the day you fucked up.

It was almost as a spell was casted, Aaron saw your walls form again.

You cleared your throat and folded your arms. “There are only so many officers I can have on the field for this, so I thank you and your team for being here.”

“I- of course.”

Aaron had never felt so unsure during a case.

“Agent Smith says he was on the phone with her right before it happened and she hung up quickly,” you mused, standing in the front entryway of the Smith home with Hotch and Morgan. “Jessica Smith was 8 months pregnant when taken…”

“Which means she couldn’t have put up much of a fight,” Hotch finished your thoughts. Your eyes found his for just a moment and your heart stuttered in its chest. Had it been so many years ago, the two of you would have laughed about it, or shouted jinx, but not anymore.

“But she still would have put up some semblance of a struggle. She didn’t fight at all.” You cleared your throat.

Morgan looked oddly between the two of you, crossing his arms. “Right, so is it possible the unsub had a weapon. Threatened her to let him in.”

Hotch shook his head. “I don’t think so, the unsub had to be someone she trusted.”

“But didn’t want around the kids,” you muttered, eyes staring down the entryway.

Morgan furrowed his brows. “What makes you say that.”

Your eyes flickered up to Hotch, that’s where they wanted to go, but you trained them on Morgan instead. “The other kids were home, would’ve ran to the door to see who might be there.”

Hotch watches you carefully as you walk over to the door, your gloved hand closing it. “Mom makes it to the door first, sees the unsub through the peephole and recognizes him, but thinks it might not be a good idea for the husband to know he was there.”

You turn away from the door, facing the men. “She hangs up the phone abruptly, tells the kids to go play and leaves her phone right here on the table before opening up the door.”

You open the door slowly and step outside, noting the mud on the welcome mat leading to the the first few feet of the house.

“The mud from the prints match the ones at the other scenes, but they don’t run through the house…they stop here.”

“She didnt want him far into the house at all,” Hotch finished off again.

“So that means the unsub is someone each family knows and Jessica recognizes, but is a sore subject, not wanting her husband to know he was there,” Morgan theorizes.

“Someone who was fired or discharged,” you realized.

Hotch furrowed his brows. “Have you recently let go of officers.”

You nodded your head. “A few. But there’s no way to go through files like that without getting unneeded attention from other officers.”

Hotch turned to Morgan. “Call Garcia, tell her—,”

“No need,” you interrupted. “I have direct files saved to my personal computer. It’ll be faster.”

Hotch eyes stayed on you, contemplating his choices.

“Morgan, get back to the precinct, update the others. l/n and I will retrieve the files.”

The car ride was…awkward to say the least.

Hotch had a million things he wanted to say, he needed to say. But somewhere between his heart and his voice, it died upon delivery.

“Spit it out,” you blurted out suddenly, forcing his attention to you.

“What?”

“You’re twiddling your thumbs and biting the inside of your cheek. Every time you look at me you take this gasp of air. What do you want to tell me?”

So many years had passed and yet you could still read him like the back of your hand.

“That was impressive back there…” he swallowed hard. “You’d make a good profil—,”

“Please don’t tell me you cooked up all of your guts just to tell me I’d be a good profiler,” you laughed.

It sounded harsh, but there was something in your tone that eased Aaron’s heart. He laughed too for the first time in a long time.

“No I guess not.”

However just as easily as the moment eased up, it easily tensed back into that painful silence.

“Why did you leave,” he blurted out finally.

Your smile dissolved so quickly, it pained Aaron to be the reason it was even there.

“I got an offer from UPenn. Full ride.”

Aaron frowned. “Congratulations.” It was genuine, despite how hollow his voice sounded. “But that’s not the real reason is it.”

Your voice suddenly felt very raw as you attempted to swallow back your emotions, but just as quickly as they left, it came back. “No…”

“Why—,”

“Because,” you burst out. “After that night, when you begged me to…” you couldn’t bear to finish that sentence. “…what we did…I couldn’t go back to what we were. It hurt too much to. I was ready to tell you everything when I saw you again but…you and Haley. She… I couldn’t do that to her.”

You were bearing your emotions out, on the verge of tears releasing every pent up emotion since that night and Aaron never felt more stupid in his life.

They had finally come at a red light when Aaron spoke up. “What night? What did I…what did I ask you to do?”

He was terrified of your answer.

But you. Everything in you stopped. Your heart, your brain, even your breath. Everything was so silent when you turned your head and finally looked him in the eye for the first time in ages.

“You really don’t remember?”

He shook his head. “No.”

No

No

No

His single word reverberated through your bones, sinking deep into your soul. What do you mean no?

You turned to the road, a humorless chuckle falling from your lips. “You don’t even remember.”

“y/n,” Aaron called your name with such desperation. “Please.”

You looked back at him, hearing that tone in his voice. Suddenly you were taken back to that night. Between the pleas in his voice and that depressingly sad look in his eyes, he looked just the way he did all those nights ago.

God how long is this light?

“You were drunk. Haley accused you of being in love with me. You begged me to kiss you to prove it was a lie.”

His heart squeezed in his chest and his lungs felt as if it was wrapped in barbed wire. It hurt.

“Did I?”

Your eyes flickered over to him for just a millisecond.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.”

part three out now!!

taglist: @mackannkees @gghostwriter

[project-sekai-facts]

What's the deal with SEKAI?

Due to popular demand, here is a post compiling everything that we know about SEKAI lore, accurate as of At the Beginning of SEKAI With You. Happy 4th anniversary!

First off, what is a SEKAI? As stated multiple times in the game, SEKAI are worlds inhabited by Virtual Singers that are created by particularly strong feelings. These feelings can be those of a singular person (e.g: Tsukasa or Mafuyu), or ones shared by many (like the other three units). The only thing that determines whether or not a SEKAI is created is how powerful those feelings are. Additionally, even if they didn't create the SEKAI, other people with similar feelings can in special instances access and influence the SEKAI (refer to WonderlandsxShowtime or 25-ji, Nightcord de.).

SEKAI can be accessed through an untitled audio file that will appear on the owner's or accessor's computer or phone. Once the person has discovered their true feelings that the SEKAI is linked to, the untitled file will become a song. More songs can be created by the SEKAI as new feelings are uncovered, as demonstrated in event After Lives. The main stories also show that the singers will know the lyrics to the song even if they have never heard it before nor know what the lyrics should be before singing.

Despite what some believe that the SEKAI are inside the phone/computer of the accessor, it is shown on multiple instances that the characters retain their phones inside the SEKAI and can still use them, suggesting teleportation. We can also take Rui's observations from the main story into account here, that the SEKAI is a physical location rather than a virtual world. It's all but confirmed that SEKAI exist on a separate dimensional plane. That said, the phone/computer is the key to remaining in the SEKAI. Should the device run out of power, the connection to the SEKAI is severed and the person will be returned to Earth. The other way to exit SEKAI is to manually pause the Untitled song.

(TL by Puroeng on YT)

At the Beginning of SEKAI With You goes in depth on how SEKAI are formed and how they develop. SEKAI are initially formed as a Fragment of Feelings when a person or group of people exhibit a strong, unyielding desire. School SEKAI was formed when Leo/need saw the meteor shower as children and wished to stay together forever (roughly 6-7 years ago), Wonderland SEKAI formed when Tsukasa was a kid and wanted to make Saki smile (roughly 10 years ago), and Empty SEKAI was formed when Mafuyu started to lose sight of herself and wanted to find her true self again (roughly 3 years ago).

Stage and Street SEKAI aren't entirely clear. Stage SEKAI's Fragment was shown to form when Haruka, Airi, and Shizuku initially debuted as idols. However, all of them debuted at wildly different points in time. Haruka debuted earliest, so we can assume the Fragment formed then (an unknown amount of time ago). Street SEKAI's Fragment is actually never shown forming, so the trigger is unknown. All we know is that it formed during or just after RAD WEEKEND, 3 years ago.

SEKAI grow and change over time. This was first mentioned in Miku's Vivid BAD SQUAD 2* story and was since repeatedly mentioned in Colorful Festival card stories. When a SEKAI is in it's Fragment stage, it sometimes may be able to hold a physical form for a short amount of time. This physical form can be accessed through a glowing orb of light (as shown in the gacha animation) and has to be accessed inside of a fully formed SEKAI. Some Fragments are only temporary and will never become a full SEKAI, something that is alluded to in a few ColoFes stories as well.

If the feelings that formed the Fragment continue to stay incredibly strong, they can manifest into a fully-fledged SEKAI. Again, At the Beginning of SEKAI With You goes into more depth about this. For School SEKAI, it formed when the girls were separated from each other in middle school (~2-4 years ago), Stage SEKAI formed when Minori was attending one of her auditions, which was around the same time as when Haruka, Airi, and Shizuku began to feel dissatisfied with their careers (roughly just over 1 year ago), and Empty SEKAI formed around the time of the Someday, From the Depths of Despair event.

Wonderland SEKAI notably became fully formed incredibly quickly, when Tsuaksa was still a child (hence the presentation of the SEKAI and the fact that he doesn't even remember the feelings that created it when he first discovers it). It is unknown when Street SEKAI fully formed, but it seems to have been almost instantaneous, with the newly formed SEKAI being shown in scenes set not too long after RW. The vagueness could mean that it's possible that this will be elaborated on later.

(TL by Puroeng on YT)

It's not quite clear as to whether you can always access a SEKAI as soon as it has a physical form. In the main stories, the characters first discover Untitled on their phones when it flashes in response to them experiencing the feelings that led to the SEKAI's creation (e.g: Ichika wanting to mend her friendship with her childhood friends). The characters have no prior knowledge of Untitled being on their phones or computers at this point. Beginning of SEKAI somewhat contradicts this, by having Miku and KAITO constantly trying to reach out to Tsukasa and have him find untitled throughout the past 10 years. However, you could possibly say that the file wasn't there until he was 17 to justify why he didn't find SEKAI and respond to Miku and KAITO earlier.

SEKAI also continue to grow even after they obtain a permanent physical form, something which was first hinted at in Miku's Vivid BAD SQUAD 2* story, and later became the focus of the World Link events. As the feelings that created them continue to grow and change, the SEKAI continues to grow with them. It should also be noted that SEKAI, according to Miku's Protective Gaze 3* story, will never disappear, even if the creator were to forget about it.

The final thing to cover here is the Tree of Feelings SEKAI. Last year I wrote a post speculating on some of the lore surrounding this SEKAI, most of which was confirmed to be correct as of Beginning of SEKAI. That post covers this final part in mroe detail, so read that if you're interested. The Tree of Feelings SEKAI is a mysterious Fragment SEKAI that so far has appeared in Miku's Where Feelings Come Together 4* story, and the events Sakura Across SEKAI, Interconnecting Our Feelings and Let Your Song Resonate Throughout SEKAI. The Fragment briefly obtains a physical form whenever the inhabitants (human or Virtual Singer) of all 5 main SEKAI are experiencing a shared feeling.

As mentioned by MEIKO in Sakura Across SEKAI, the Tree SEKAI appears to be some sort of Nexus between the 5 we follow in the story. This is later confirmed to be the case in Beginning of SEKAI, with the same tree appearing in all 5 SEKAI, occasionally transmitting music from the other SEKAI it is connected to. Stage SEKAI MEIKO also mentions in the Sakura Across SEKAI story that this has never happened before.

While animated by an outsider source, so not entirely reliable, the NEO MV suggests that the Tree SEKAI is beginning to take on a permanent physical form with its own Untitled song. The Untitled song in this case is, of course, NEO.

Part two: What are the Virtual Singers? The Virtual Singers in each SEKAI are stated in chapter 10 of the WonderlandsxShowtime main story to have physical bodies. While we don't really know anything about their biological make up, they're at the very least, humanoid and sentient instead of being holograms, though they can present themselves on Earth in that form through any device that can display holograms (or on computer screens as seen in a few 25-ji, Nightcord de. stories and cards). While implied in Miku's Protective Gaze 3*, it is confirmed by Beginning of SEKAI that the Virtual Singers are immortal and don't physically age.

Versions of the Crypton VOCALOID characters that resemble their real-life character designs exist "between the SEKAI", which appears in-game to be some sort of white space, however the I'm Mine another cuts may be set in this location. While very early stories don't make it entirely clear, it is officially confirmed as of Sakura Across SEKAI that the Virtual Singers in each SEKAI are completely individual entities, rather than the primary Virtual Singers travelling between SEKAI and changing their form.

The versions of the Virtual Singers in each SEKAI are aware that they are derivatives of their primary form (mentioned in both Virtual Singer events). The derivatives are influenced by the owner(s) of the SEKAI, taking certain aspects of their psyche and abilities. It should also be noted that not all SEKAI start with all six of the Virtual Singers. This is heavily implied to be the case with Street SEKAI and Stage SEKAI, but it not the case with the School, Wonderland, or Empty SEKAI. School SEKAI started with just Miku and Luka, with the other 4 arriving during event stories. Wonderland SEKAI started with Miku and KAITO, though the Kagamines arrived immediately following the main story, shortly followed by MEIKO and Luka. Empty SEKAI started with only Miku, with the other 5 vsingers appearing in response to changes in Mafuyu and the others' mental states.

It is explicitly stated in Len's Vivid BAD SQUAD 2* card story that the Virtual Singers possess supernatural or magical abilities, and are actually incredibly similar to humans, although they have the innate ability to help people discover their true feelings. Despite this claim, Wonderland SEKAI MEIKO is shown to have superhuman strength, Wonderland SEKAI Luka's sleep schedule is controlled by Tsukasa and the others' emotions, and Wonderland SEKAI Miku is ambiguously a cat-humaoid hybrid. Not to mention the sentient plushies, and singing flowers and actual Phoenix. However, these can be somewhat justified given that the Wonderland SEKAI was largely influenced by the imagination of a 7-year-old child. It was also Street SEKAI Len that made this claim, and that is by far the most grounded in reality of all 5 SEKAI.

Now the final part, building off what Len said about SEKAI not being magical or supernatural. The only justifiable explanation is that they are alternate dimensions, as I mentioned briefly earlier on, where these sorts of inexplicable "magical" things are natural occurences.

So what are some of the physical capabilities of the SEKAI? Let's start with one that applies to all five, the innate abilities to create clothes out of thin air. The unit outfits for Leo/need, MORE MORE JUMP!, and 25-ji, Nightcord de. were all created by the SEKAI, which is mentioned in Honami's Unchanging Flavor 3* card story. The same card story also confirms that these costumes cannot be taken out of the SEKAI. Both Journey to Bloom -HOPE- and a 3rd Colorful Live 4koma illustrate how the costumes form. The 4koma shows it to be instantaneous, much like it is shown in vlives, so it's likely that Journey to Bloom animates the effect to be more visually appealing.

A notable new one is the ability to physically alter a person's appearance. This seems exclusive to the new Fragment SEKAI seen in Kanade and Rui's Bloom Festival 4* card stories, but given that they're technically still SEKAI, this may apply to regular SEKAI as well. In the aforementioned card stories, Kanade and Rui both turn into their younger selves temporarily. Also shown in those two stories and in Airi's To You Who Wants to be An Idol 4* story, the SEKAI (or Fragement SEKAI specifically again) have the ability to temporarily manifest a person's younger self, or separate versions of their present day self. It's shown that this is not a vision but a physical form, although they are clearly presented to have a separate consciousness to the true version of the person. The same can be inferred for the woman who appears in Haruka's Someday, I'll Deliver 4* card story, and Nagi's appearance in BREAK DOWN THE WALL.

A few SEKAI also deviate from Earth's rules of physics, notably, School SEKAI and Wonderland SEKAI. Wonderland SEKAI is incredibly obvious in its deviations, but School SEKAI recently acquired a flying train.

SEKAI also seems to prevent its inhabitants from dying or getting hurt. While falling from the flying train is treated as a danger in the Wonderland SEKAI Virtual Singer main story, Tsukasa falls from a height in Aye-Aye, Let's Aim for the Star that should have killed him, even with safety mats laid out. Wonderland SEKAI KAITO may or may not have been stabbed in the past too, though he is immortal anyway.

SEKAI can also give people amnesia, as shown in Akito's Wanderer's Thirst 4* card story. Additionally, whenever the unit representatives are summonned to sing together in Virtual Lives, or when they visit the Tree of Feelings SEKAI, their memories are wiped afterwards. However, unlike Akito's case, it's Miku herself who erases the unit reps' memories.

Lastly, the audiences in Virtual Lives. Obviously, no one inhabits the SEKAI other than the owner(s) and the Virtual Singers, so who makes up the audience. As explained in the First Star After the Rain After Live, these are Sparks of Feelings. Small sparkling lights (suggested in multiple Virtual Lives to be the small triangles seen floating around in the SEKAI) that respond to the songs heard in SEKAI. These are stated to be the feelings of other people (the player character) that resonate with the music and feelings of the performers.

And thus concludes this recap of all the SEKAI lore we know so far. Hope you enjoyed!