#he really is.... SUCH an asshole but he's handsome so.... he gets a pass for now

[blcssom]

“what? no witty remark? no biting commentary? nothing?”

↪ closed starter for @persephonyed ( 2/2  ) 

[guubiiz]

heartslabyul would be named my favorite dorm if i didn’t despise riddle.

[sunderwight]

Bingqiu AU where Luo Binghe's the chosen village sacrifice to the evil deity who lives up the mountain.

Normally the village sends maidens, but they've more or less run out of expendable girls of the right age and, ahem, "virtues". So of course Luo Binghe's early life bad luck kicks in. In the wake of his mother's death there's no one to really care about what happens to him, he's fairly pretty, and the village leaders decide that if they dress him up like a girl the teenaged homeless kid should pass well enough. And hey, y'know, he's probably got a hard life ahead for him anyway -- dying in a brothel of some venereal disease or on the streets of exposure or starvation. At least as a sacrifice, everyone else gets to benefit from his loss! And the kid will get added to a shrine and be remembered as a hero! If anything, he should be happy about this!

Binghe is not happy about this.

But he's also a skinny underfed nobody who is easily overpowered, dressed up like a bride, and tied to a post. So. Not much he can do but wait for the evil deity to come and do whatever horrible thing he's gonna do to him.

Meanwhile, Shen Yuan is pretty sure he's been isekai'd into the over-powered hero of some kind of supernatural adventure story? He's not totally sure because he doesn't recognize the setting, but the signs are there. He's got a shrine-like base of operations (though it seems to have become corrupted/ruined, probably he has to restore it somehow), he has a very resilient and handsome new body with spiritual energy of some kind flowing through him, and a very clearly magical sword. Plus lots of neat starter powers! Though it feels like he has other abilities that have been blocked somehow? Probably he has to level up in order to access them.

When he treks out of his "base" and finds what seems to be a distressed maiden, he takes it for his beginner hero mission. The girl claims that she's been doomed to be sacrificed to an evil god. That sounds a little above Shen Yuan's pay grade for dealing with, so he unties her and decides that they had better just get out of the whole region altogether. He already packed up anything useful from his base, anticipating he might get caught up in an adventure once he left, so they follow the river away from the settlement until they reach another one.

While they travel, Luo Binghe tells Shen Yuan about the cursed deity, Shen Qingqiu, who was cast out of the heavens for slaughtering one of his brethren and has apparently being do-who-knows what to maidens from the local village in exchange for his "protection" ever since. Sounds like a real asshole! And also mid-level boss type bad guy at least. Shen Yuan hopes he doesn't have to fight him, but he probably will.

Thank goodness he found Binghe, though! Clearly the helpful little sister type! He's definitely going to require her assistance if he's going to figure out how to navigate this world and level up his skills enough to take on a god.

[yam-writes]

baby, show me what it's like

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader (afab)

summary: you were honestly thinking about quitting your job as a secretary at a police station, but then a new hire made you change your mind.

word count: 11k

warnings: 18+, smut, subby!leon, rookie!leon, virgin!leon, oral (m!receiving), dirty talk, semi public sex, flirting, teasing, talks of masturbation

a/n: he's such a good boy <333 part 2? song from need to know by doja cat

You stared down at the piles of documents in front of you. Part of being a secretary at a police station was doing all of the paperwork that the officers didn’t want to do. It was exhausting, just staring at a million tiny words, scrubbing through legal terms that you had to teach yourself what they meant, and signing initials and names that weren’t even yours on dotted lines. If you wanted to keep the job, though, you had to put up with it. They paid well and honestly you couldn’t be bothered to search for another job. Plus, it came with perks and benefits. 

It would’ve been an added bonus that you got to stare at men in their uniforms all day, but most of their personalities were so awful that you couldn’t even find them attractive anymore. They were only nice to you when they conveniently forgot that you had already told them you wouldn’t let them hit. They were gross and mean and tiring to be around. Honestly, only a few months ago, you were just about to give up and call it quits. 

But then they hired someone new. 

Rookie Leon Kennedy, fresh out of the police academy. He was the talk of the station for a week before he even arrived. Apparently he was the top of his class, strong, always hit the targets in the practice range, aced every exam, and blew the physical portion out of the waters. He was a diamond in the rough, an ace, good at everything he did and worked extremely hard to get better at whatever it was that he wasn’t already good at. 

To you he sounded like he was going to be just another asshole, so whenever you heard anyone talking about him, you just rolled your eyes. That included hearing some of the other secretaries squealing about how “handsome and attractive that new rookie is.” 

How wrong you turned out to be. 

You were sitting at the front desk of the station one Monday morning. You were vaguely aware that it was Leon’s first day, but you were swamped with paperwork, so you honestly didn’t think too much about it. That is, until you looked up when you heard the front door open and laid eyes on the cutest boy you had ever seen. Your mouth fell open slightly and you had to physically clench your jaw to make sure that it didn’t drop onto the floor. 

He had dirty blonde hair that was cropped around his ears, his bangs teetering on the edge of falling over his face. His brows were slightly furrowed, but his expression wasn’t mean on account of his chubby cheeks and soft jawline making him look so squishy. His eyes were full of childlike wonder as he walked into the station, looking around and checking out the area. He was tall, his body wide, his strength evident even through the uniform that he wore. His arms were danling at his sides, his fingers bending up and down, his thumb attempting to crack knuckles that didn’t need to be cracked. You watched his chest heave as he breathed through his mouth, his Adam’s apple bouncing as he swallowed. 

You really thought you were going to pass out. You felt your heart threaten to jump out of your chest in the most cartoonish way possible. You were positive that anyone who was around could see it beating through your ribcage, its fast beat pulsating your entire body. Butterflies built up in your tummy, shooting down between your legs as you watched him scan the area. When his eyes landed on you and he gave you a big, bright smile, you were sure that you were actually going to pass out right then and there. 

If your pupils could have transformed, they would’ve been in the shape of hearts as you watched him walk towards you. When he was almost upon you, you finally regained your composure and cleared your throat, looking down at the stack of papers. You grabbed them, tapping them against the desk in an attempt to pretend that you were straightening them out so that it looked like you were doing something other than ogling at this man. Your head was spinning as he finally reached you, your mind full of thoughts of all the things you wanted to do to him. 

“Hi!” he said, straightening up, raising his hand and giving a small wave before glancing down and then dropping his hand. “I’m Leon Kennedy.” He looked into your eyes, his lips twitching slightly as he did. A small crop of blush covered the apples of his cheeks and he dropped his eyes, looking down at the wooden desk and clearing his throat. 

“I’m, uh, new here,” he said, his voice getting more quiet and slightly breathier. As he spoke, he poked his tongue against his top teeth causing him to have a small lisp. You were immediately filled with an overwhelming urge to reach over the desk and pinch his cute cheeks. You felt like you were looking at a little puppy. You leaned forward, your lips curling up into a smirk as you tried your best to listen to what he was saying. 

“I was just hired, so, uh, I don’t really know what to do or anything…” He cleared his throat, his eyes blinking rapidly as he swallowed. “I’m kind of nervous,” he said, raising his hand to rub the back of his neck and huffing out a breathy chuckle. He looked up at you again, giving you a sheepish smile. 

If you were being honest, though, you weren’t really listening to him. You were tracing the cage of his throat with your eyes, noting the mole that laid beside his Adam’s apple as well as the others that were scattered around his face and neck. You were memorizing every mark on his face, every small acne that dotted his jaw and cheek. You were studying how his biceps fulled up his sleeves completely, thinking about how his big hands would fit perfectly on the curves of your waist. You were raising your pen to your mouth and letting your gaze travel down further, staring at how his thighs were squeezing around the fabric of his pants. You were chewing on the tip of the pen as you allowed your eyes to travel to the center of his body, picturing what he could be hiding behind the buckle of his belt. 

You did happen to hear him say that he was nervous, and that piqued your interest. You looked up, looking at his face that had gotten a lot more red. He was rubbing his palms against the sides of his pants, clearing his throat every few seconds. As you kept your eyes on his, you saw his lips part and then he moved his hands, clasping them in front of himself. You let out a small giggle, leaning forward even more, pushing your chest together with your arms as you leaned onto the desk. It was clear that he was flustered, and that only made the horny part inside your brain ramp up even more. 

“Don’t be nervous!” you said, looking at him up and down. He shifted his weight between his feet. “We’re all really nice here.” You lowered your voice, trying to make it sound as seductive as possible. 

Leon’s mouth fell open and you heard a small sound come out from his throat. 

“Of course!” he exclaimed, raising his hands out in front of him. “I-I didn’t mean it like that!” He cleared his throat and looked away, his eyes glancing down at your chest for a split second before widening slightly and shifting to the floor. “I-I’m sure you’re all very nice…” He raised his hand to rub the back of his neck, his cute face full of a look of slight embarrassment. You smiled wider at him. “I-I just meant… Well, I mean, I’m just a nervous person, I guess.” He let out another nervous laugh, and snuck a glance up at you. 

“Mhm,” you hummed, looking him up and down once again before leaning back in your chair. “Anything I can do to help you calm down, Mr. Kennedy?” You looked up at him with faux innocence. 

Leon stared at you for a second, his lips parting slightly. Thenn, he regained his composure and cleared his throat, shaking his head and chuckling at himself. 

“No, probably not,” he confessed, his voice breathy. He had a cute, boyish smile on his face, once that was full of actual innocence. You wanted to ride him until he cried. 

“I’ll calm down eventually,” he continued, pulling you out of your thoughts. 

You shook your head lightly, trying to reign yourself in. Leon was adorable, but you had to try and calm down. It wasn’t like you could just jump over the desk and ravish him- as much as you wanted to. 

“It was, uh…” Leon began, choking up on his sentence and swallowing. He turned even more red. “It was really kind of you to offer to help. And for being so nice. Um…” 

He had been looking into your eyes and you started licking your lips as you paid attention to him. The blush creeped down his face, covering his jaw and neck. He let out a small noise, which sounded almost like a whimper, as his body shifted. He cleared his throat once again and shook his head, his eyebrows furrowing at himself. He looked extremely flustered. You loved it. You smiled even bigger at him, watching as he swayed his arms back and forth, trying to hide the fact that he was covering the front of his pants. 

“If, um…” Leon said, trying to keep the conversation going even through his flusteredness. You admired his determination to keep talking, but you also figured he was just blabbering because he was so nervous. Either way, you couldn’t stop thinking about making him continue to speak even as you were touching his dick. Hell, you even wanted to get under a desk in the office that you knew he was going to get and blow him as he tried his best to keep a conversation going with the chief. 

“If everyone here is like you,” Leon continued, his voice breathy, obviously trying to push his words out of his mouth. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Your heart was in your throat, your tongue not staying still in your mouth as you licked your lips, pulling the bottom one between your teeth. “If everyone here is like you, then I think it’ll be a good job.” 

You looked up at his face, watching his breathing speed up and his eyes refuse to stay still. He was looking every except at you, but you could see him sneaking glances your way to see your reaction about what he had just said. His attempt at flirting… wasn’t very good. Rookie Leon Kennedy was awkward and nervous and shy. But something about him was so charming. His awkwardness was making your heart swell. His naivety and innocence was making your head spin. You wanted to get in his pants so bad, explore his body, make him feel better than he had ever felt before. You wanted to hear his shy moans and watch his hands twitch as he tried to keep himself composed, but ultimately failing. You wanted to tear him apart. 

“Mr. Kennedy,” you said, looking into his eyes and giving him a cheeky smile, “there’s no one else here like me.” You gave him a playful smile, tilting your head as you looked up at him to make your point clear. “You’ll figure that out soon enough.” 

Leon’s head nodded absentmindedly, his mouth open as he stared at you. He listened intently, reacting to all of your words. You already knew he would be such a good boy. 

“I believe you,” he said shyly, his voice low. He looked down, a small smile on his face. You had never seen anyone so red before. 

There was a beat of silence as you stared at Leon, watching his obvious nervousness. You raised the pen to your mouth again, chewing idly as you stared at him, undressing him with your eyes. After a few seconds, he flanked up, looking at you with big eyes through his lashes. His lips were pink and wet, and you felt the knots in your stomach tightening as you thought about how good he must be at giving head. You found yourself swaying, practically fucking him with your eyes. His body moved too, shifting, his face twitching and his nostrils flaring. There was something in the air, tension that he definitely didn’t know what to do with. You let it sit, enjoying the sight of him being so flustered. 

Then, far too soon, it was broken. 

“Kennedy!” a gruff voice said, pulling both of you out of whatever trance you were in. 

You turned your head, watching as the chief walked up to the desk and clapped Leon on the shoulder. He jumped slightly, clearing his throat and turning around. His face was shocked and nervous, obviously worried that the chief would catch him doing… whatever it was he was just doing. You were sure he didn’t even know, his mind racing about all the possibilities of what could’ve just happened. He was so cute.

“Y-yes, sir?” Leon said, ever so polite. 

The chief’s eyes shifted to yours, and a look spread across his face that you couldn’t quite place. You ignored him, though, only giving him a nod and a small smile as you sat back in your seat, turning your head back down to the paperwork in front of you. 

He cleared his throat and shifted his eyes back to Leon. “Come with me, young man, I’ll show you around.” 

“Yes, sire,” Leon said again, nodding like an obedient puppy. 

His focus was now completely on the chief, intent on impressing him and doing his job well. As he listened to whatever stupid story that the chief was beginning to tell as they started walking away, Leon snuck as glanced at you. He gave you a small, shy smile and a nod of his head, and you returned the favor. You raised your hand and wiggled your fingers at him, waving flirtatiously. His eyes widened and his mouth fell open, turning his head away from you nervously. You giggled out, not taking your eyes off of him. 

You watched him walk away beside the chief. As he went, his hands didn’t leave the front of his pants. But clasping his hands in front of him didn’t stop his boner from being visible from the side. You saw the tent pitched in his pants, the fabric poking against his first in front of him. His bulge was… big, to say the least. It was obvious that he wasn’t even half hard; he was rocking a complete erection. He was obviously really sensitive. You hadn’t even touched him, had barely even flirted with him, and he was already squeezing his eyes shut to get his dick to go down. You could practically feel your mouth watering as you looked at it, your imagination going wild thinking about how big he had to be. 

When he had walked through a door and disappeared further into the building you finally looked away. You sighed, staring down at the paperwork in front of you. You let out a small laugh as you looked at it. Maybe I’ll stick around here a little longer, you thought, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth to suppress a smile. 

After that, you started enjoying your job significantly more. All of the paperwork and the annoying men were worth it because you got to see Leon everyday. You spoke to him any chance you could get, which honestly wasn’t a lot. He was busy going on patrol and sitting in on meetings and helping with small cases and whatever else rookie cops got up to. You caught him sometimes when he was coming into and leaving the station. Every time you would give him a big smile and a wave. He would always blush bright red and give you a shaky smile as he cleared his throat and looked away. More than once did you catch his breathing getting heavier. 

Still, though, at first you did try to keep a safe distance from him. You didn’t want to push any boundaries and make him actually uncomfortable, so you managed to control yourself enough to not pounce on him anytime you saw him. However, once you caught him staring at you, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth, you decided that you could amp it up a little bit. 

You started making sure that you could run into him any chance that you could get. Instead of just giving him a smile, you spoke to him, keeping your voice light and breathy. You stood close to him, placing your hands on his arm, admiring how small they were compared to him. You leaned in close, pressing your body against his as you looked up at him through your lashes. You licked your lips as he talked, watching the apples of his cheeks turn red and his lips blush pink. You listened to the way his voice got breathy and watched as he squeezed his eyes shut and took deep breaths and got so flustered just from some heavy flirting. 

Admittedly, it was probably torture for the poor guy. You were really going hard with the flirting- calling him strong, telling him he’s so good at his job, complimenting him on everything, rubbing your hands on his biceps, tapping against your lips, fucking him with your eyes, and anything else that you could think of that would drive him crazy because you thought he looked so good when he was all flustered. You would drop things on the ground just so that you would have to bend down and pick them up in front of him. You even made it a point to get a bag of lollipops and suck on them, circling your tongue on the candy anytime he was around, making eye contact with him while still pretending to be as innocent as possible. 

It was obvious that he liked it. You could hear the way he got all nervous and you could see the way his hands got clammy and you noticed every time his eyes scanned your body, looking at every sensitive part of you. You saw the way he stared at you when he thought you weren’t looking. You even noticed the slight palming of his dick he did when he was sitting behind his desk as you spoke to the chief in front of his office. You saw the way his eyebrows furrowed and he stared in anger as you spoke to any of the other officers. You saw his hands clench into fists and his face turn red as stared intently at whoever you were talking to until you glanced up at him. His face softened when he made eye contact, and he looked desperate for your attention, but he was still trying to be respectful. It was all so cute. Everything he did was so cute. 

It all built up over the next few months, and every time you thought about Leon you couldn’t help but squeeze your thighs together behind the front desk. You touched yourself to the thought of him, thinking about his rough hands grabbing your waist and his thick fingers thrusting in and out of you. You got off just by thinking about how pretty he would look lying flat on his back, his cock stiff and standing at attention, whimpering and squirming as you licked up and down his shaft, not letting him cum until you said so. God, you wanted him so fucking bad. 

A few months after Leon started working at the station, you had to stay late to finish up some paperwork that an officer shoved off onto you. It was a lot because the case was big, and even though he didn’t really do anything, he was getting all the credit for it, which meant lots of documents. Which, of course, meant that you had to be the one to do it. And, to make matters worse, he waited until the last possible moment to try and get it finished, so it all had to be written out and signed by the next day, which meant that you had to stay late. 

You didn’t want to take work home with you, so you got caught up in trying to get it finished before leaving. You didn’t even realize it was so late until you finally signed on the last dotted line and dropped your pen. You stretched in your chair, looking around at the empty station. Most of the lights had been turned off, so you sat in the dim lighting. Honestly, it was almost scary. You grabbed your phone and looked at the time- 11:38 pm. Jesus Christ, you thought. This took longer than expected. 

Your eyes were heavy as you pushed yourself back in your seat, grabbing at your things to gather them up. You were completely focused on packing up that you were only vaguely aware of the footsteps that you heard from behind you. You figured it was just the nighttime janitor or security guard walking around, but then you heard a voice that made all the stress of the day wash away from you completely. 

“Oh, you’re finished?” you heard from behind you. 

You immediately knew that it was Leon’s voice. You could pinpoint his even tone and deep range out of any lineup. You had spent the last few months memorizing the sound of it. You felt your heartbeat pound against your chest and excitement fill up your head. You turned around, unable to stop the smile from spreading across your face as you faced him. 

He was standing in front of the desk awkwardly, shifting on his feet and fumbling with his own hands. He was looking at you, his eyes not staying in one spot, moving around as he avoided looking into your eyes. His eyelids were heavy and his hair was slightly flat. He looked tired, and honestly all you wanted to do was wrap him up in your arms and make him cum so hard so he could fall asleep. You wanted to play with his hair and rub his back and kiss his shoulders. You wanted to hide him under your blanket and keep him in your bed away from the world. 

You blinked, trying to pull yourself back to reality. 

“Yeah,” you said, giving Leon a friendly smile and sighing, gesturing towards the paperwork. “Just got done with all of this. It was a pain.” You let out a laugh and looked back up at him. You tilted your head and raised an eyebrow, looking at him quizzically. “What are you still doing here?” you asked. 

“O-oh,” Leon said, nervously. “Well, just, you know, the same as you. Getting some work finished.” You could see a few beads of sweat lining his forehead. He raised his hand and rubbed the back of his neck. 

Your mouth twitched as you stared at him, your smile threatening to turn into something that wasn’t just friendly. 

“Well, isn’t it convenient that we got finished at the same time!” you exclaimed, teasing him about the fact that you knew he wasn’t telling the truth. You knew as much as the next guy that there wasn’t anything Leon could’ve been doing that would make him have to stay this late. You made a mental note to pry the true reasoning out of him later, but for now, you had something else on your mind. 

“Y-yeah,” Leon breathed out, letting out a huffy laugh. 

You let your eyes drift down his body. He had already gained some muscle weight since being there. He always wanted to stay on top of everything, working out and keeping his body exercised. If he was strong before, he was surely a brute now. It was so cute, though, because his body was so fit and toned, but his actions made him seem almost like a little kid. You wanted to just eat him up. Something inside you broke, and you couldn’t hold yourself back anymore. It had been a long day. What better way to destress than to fool around with the most adorable boy in the world? 

“Hey, Leon,” you said, your voice peaking slightly. 

He perked up, looking up at you like a puppy whose owner had just called his name. You had to hold yourself back from jumping over the desk. 

“I was gonna go get a coffee from the break room before I left- you know, to keep myself awake,” you continued. Leon stared at you wide eyes as he listened intently. “Do you wanna join me?” 

Leon swallowed and let out a choked noise. He honestly looked like he was about to throw up, but he nodded rapidly and choked out, “Y-yes! I wanna come.” Then, his eyes widened in horror as he raised his hands and clarified. “I mean, I wanna go with you! To the break room. I wanna go.” 

You let out an adoring laugh and looked down, feeling your face blush from his words and actions. You nodded and then made your way around the desk, leaving your things lying on top of it. You stood beside Leon, his body language awkward, unsure of how to navigate the situation that he was in. You smiled at him. He was so endearing. You reached out and wrapped your hands around one of his arms, leaning against him. His body tensed up and you heard him hold his breath. You giggled up at him, and then began walking, pulling him along by his arm. 

You dragged Leon away from the front desk and down the hallway towards the first floor break room. You made casual conversation as you walked, asking him how his day was and smiling up at him as he stuttered out all that he got up to. He started rambling about his day, getting really into his words. You hung onto his arm as he waved his hand around, using them as he explained. He was really endearing, and you couldn’t stop the butterflies from fluttering in your tummy- and this time you felt like they might mean a little more than just wanting to get in the boy’s pants. 

When you reached the door of the break room, you turned around and slid your hands down Leon’s arm, grabbing his hand and pulling him into the room with a smile. You watched him suck in a breath of air before you let go of his hand and turned around, heading to the coffee machine. As you reached the counter, though, you felt Leon’s presence behind you. He grabbed you, his fingers softly wrapping around your wrist. 

“I can do it!” he exclaimed, probably a little louder than what he meant. You turned around and looked up at him, a smirk tugging on your lips as you saw his face. His eyes were furrowed and his lips were pressed tight in determination. It was so cute how much he wanted to do this for you- something as small as making coffee. 

God, you wanted to choke on his dick so badly. 

You gave him a nod, not taking your eyes off of him as you said, “Thank you. You’re so sweet, Leon.” 

He looked down shyly, the corners of his mouth twitching. You saw him shuffle, kicking his feet lightly. 

“It’s no big deal,” he mumbled shyly. 

You looked at him in adoration, and then turned around. You sat down at the table, staring at Leon as he turned around and began messing with the coffee machine. You watched as his back flexed in his button down, the fabric stretching as he moved his arms. His shoulders bounced up and down. You were completely mesmerized. He had the most perfect body you had ever seen. Before you could stop yourself- not that you even wanted to- your mouth was moving. 

“You’re so strong, Leon,” you said, leaning forward and resting your chin on your hand. “All the other rookies they’ve hired have been like shrimp.” You let out a small laugh. 

You heard Leon let out a shuddered breath. He finished with the machine and then turned around. He looked at you, giving you a sheepish smile. He shrugged his shoulders, clearly embarrassed by the compliment. He looked down at the floor, only glancing up at you through his lashes. 

“I’m not really all that strong…” he said, a smile tugging on his lips. “I, uh, I mean I work out and stuff, but,” he let out a genuine laugh, his face lighting up slightly. He looked up at you, giving you a boyish grin. “I also like to eat,” he said, playfully. 

“I think you look good,” you said, matter-of-factly. You pushed yourself up and stepped over towards Leon. You kept some distance, but only a bit. You glanced down at his lips, licking yours as you did. 

“R-really?” Leon asked, clearly surprised. 

“Mhm,” you hummed, swaying closer to him, but letting your chests touch. You reached your hands out gently and slid them down his arms, giving his biceps a squeeze. “You’ve got really nice arms.” You looked up into his wide and nervous eyes, giving him a cheeky smile. “They’re so big.” 

Leon let out a choked noise and a small whimper. You watched his Adam’s apple bounce as he swallowed. You smiled at him, happy with where this was going and the fact that he wasn’t pulling away. You took the opportunity to lean closer, pressing your bodies together. You could feel his already half hard cock against you, and it took your breath away. The bulge was already big and firm as it pressed against your thigh, and you had to physically stop yourself from grinding against it. Instead, you looked up at his flushed face and gave him a reassuring smile. 

“Do you have anything else that’s big, Leon?” you asked, your voice teasing. 

Leon swallowed a lump in his throat and immediately started sputtering. “Uh… Um… I- uh…” 

He looked around, clearly trying to avoid eye contact. He was so nervous and flustered, so inexperienced and innocent. It was so cute watching him devolve into such a mess so fast. You wanted to ruin him even more. 

“Well, I, uh…” He cleared his throat, but it sounded more like he was just trying not to choke. “My, uh, m-my… My dick!” he finally said, looking at you with an attempt of confidence. 

You almost choked as he made his exclamation. You looked up at his face, seeing his obvious shyness that he was trying to force himself not to feel. You let out a laugh and pushed yourself away, looking at him up and down with a raised eyebrow. 

“You know, I really thought you were gonna say your heart,” you commented. 

“That too!” Leon proclaimed, shifting against the counter. He was barely leaning against it anymore, instead standing on his legs, slouching slightly so that he wouldn’t be as tall as he really was. You noticed he did that a lot. 

I’m gonna have to do a lot of work to get this boy’s confidence up, you thought, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. 

You pulled back slightly, placing your hand over his heart, feeling the fast beating pound against your palm. He stared at you, his eyes wide and his mouth hung open. You slid your hand down his torso, feeling his tummy suck in as you glided your fingertips across it. You kept eye contact as you reached his pants, tugging on his belt. 

“Can I see?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

Leon nodded his head immediately, but then he looked away, his eyes shifting down to his feet. 

“I-I wanna show you, but I…” He took a deep breath, furrowing his brows, looking upset at himself. “I’m nervous,” he said, quietly. 

“Leon,” you cooed his name, tilting your head and looking at him with a face full of sympathy. “You don’t have to be nervous.” You didn’t move your hand from his belt, keeping your fingers shoved slightly behind it, feeling his tummy bump against your knuckles as he breathed hard. 

“I just… I don’t have much, uh, e-experience,” Leon stuttered, his mind moving faster than his mouth could keep up with. “So, I-I don’t really k-know what to- um- what to do…” He glanced up at you in anticipation, nervous for your response. 

Your heart swelled as you heard him. You really thought you were going to pass out. You knew that Leon was a little shy, but you didn’t think he’d have “not a lot of experience.” You just assumed he was one of those guys that got a lot of pussy because of how awkward he was. You knew it was working on you and he wasn’t even trying. You couldn’t believe that you were going to get to be the one to give him more experience, get to be the one to make him feel good, get to be the one to get him addicted to getting his dick touched. Your head was swimming, but you tried to stay focused. 

“Don’t worry about it,” you said gently, giving Leon a soft smile. “You don’t have to do anything except sit back and feel good.” 

He stared at you, his eyes shifting down to your lips as he licked his own. He took a deep breath and then asked, “Can- can I kiss you?” 

Your smile grew bigger when you saw the anticipation and excitement in his eyes. You moved your hands from his belt and raised them, grabbing his face. You felt his soft skin on your palms as you squished his cheeks together. His breathing got heavier as you leaned up on your tiptoes, pulling his head down to meet yours. You pressed your lips together gently, giving him a soft closed mouth kiss. You leaned back down, flat on your feet, and looked up at him with a small smile. 

“Whoa,” he said, his eyes wide, lost in the small kiss that you had just shared. “I’ve wanted to do that since I first saw you…” 

“Why didn’t you?” you asked, a little pouty. 

Leon scoffed, but he looked at you with a grin on his face. “Because I’m a gentleman.” 

“Does a gentleman pop a boner every time he sees me?” you teased. 

Leon’s mouth fell open in surprise and he instinctively covered his hands over the center of his pants. It was obviously too late, though. You already knew he was hard and you were getting almost desperate to pull it out of his underwear. 

“You noticed that?” he asked, his voice raising an octave in embarrassment. 

“It’s kind of hard not to,” you said, chewing on your bottom lip as you let your eyes trail down his body to the bulge in his pants. 

“I-I didn’t mean to,” he mumbled, shifting against the counter. 

You shook your head reassuringly, reaching up and placing a hand on his cheek. He leaned into it, nuzzling slightly as he looked at you shyly. 

“I think it’s cute,” you said. “You’d always get so worked up and all I would do was flirt with you a little.” You eyed him, looking at him up and down, staring at the bulge once again. You lowered your hand from his face and slipped your fingers behind his belt, wiggling them against his lower tummy. 

“I bet you’re really sensitive, yeah?” you said breathily, leaning towards him, ghosting your lips together. You looked down at his pink wet lips, your eyelashes fluttering against his skin. “Can I find out?” 

Leon swallowed and nodded, his eyes wide as he stared at you, seemingly in a daze. 

“P-please,” he pleaded, his voice bordering on a whimper. 

You gave him a big smile and then leaned up, placing another kiss on his lip. This one you made sure to heat up, opening your mouth slightly so that you could run your tongue along his lower lip. He whined as you did, and you took that opportunity to push your tongue inside his mouth. You felt his hands move as he let out a gasp. He grabbed your waist, digging his fingers into your skin. He kissed you back, pushing his tongue against mine, trying his best to assert some kind of dominance. You wrestled your tongues together for a few more moments, but when you felt his cock twitch against your tummy, you pulled away. 

You gave him a mischievous smile, looking at his flushed face and his swollen lips. His eyes were big, his pupils blown out. He was breathing hard out of his open mouth, staring at you in admiration. You raised your eyebrows at him as you lowered yourself down, getting on your knees in front of him. You heard him let out a choked sound, and he squeezed his eyes shut, looking away from you. He let out a small whine and accidentally bucked his hips. You smiled more, raising your hands to grab his hips, holding him still. 

“S-sorry,” he said. “You j-just…” He looked down at you, his mouth hanging open as he continued to breathe hard. “Fuck, you look so good. Oh, my God.” He closed his eyes and looked away again, his chest heaving. “Oh, my fucking God.” 

You let out a giggle as you moved your hands back to the center of his pants, beginning to unbuckle his belt. 

“I didn’t peg you as someone who swears so much,” you teased. 

Leon shook his head, still keeping his eyes squeezed shut. You watched him bite his lip as he tried to suppress his whines. 

“Not usually,” he said, unable to make proper sentences. “Sometimes. Right now.” He opened his eyes and sighed. “You look really… pretty.” 

“Imagine my view,” you said, pulling open his belt and messing with the button. He sucked his tummy in. “A pretty boy all blushy up above me? So nervous he doesn’t know what to do?” You undid the button and zipped down the zipper, pushing the flaps of his pants back before looking up at him to sell home your next point. “It’s like I just won the lottery.” 

Leon let out a whimper and shook his head, reaching his hands behind him and grabbing the counter. 

“Can’t say that stuff to me,” he said, his voice breathy. “Too nice.” 

“You’re such a good boy, Leon,” you said. “I gotta be nice to you.” 

You turned back to the center of his body. You pushed the flaps to the side more and shoved his pants down slightly around his hips. He sucked in a breath of air as his hard dick sprung forward against his underwear. You smiled, watching as it twitched against the fabric. You leaned forward, pressing your lips against where his tip would be, shoving your tongue against the wet spot that he had made. 

“Holy shit,” he breathed out, his hands gripping the counter even tighter. His fingers twitched and his chest heaved. 

You continued to press your tongue against the wet spot on his underwear, licking at his clothed tip as you held onto his hips to stop him from bucking them. You moved one hand and gripped the base of his dick, wrapping your fingers around it as much as you could over his underwear. You moved it slowly, sliding the fabric along the sensitive skin, no doubt sending friction spreading throughout his entire body. Leon moaned and whimpered above you, trying his best to keep himself quiet and still. 

After a few minutes, you pulled back, sliding your hands up and slipping your fingers into the waistband of his underwear. You shoved them down slightly, exposing the top part of his shaft as well as the crop of pubic hair. He sucked in a breath of air through his teeth, his fingers twitching. You looked up at him with an eyebrow raised, watching his big reactions. A question popped into your mind and you had to ask. 

“Leon?” you said gently, getting his attention. He looked down at you, his eyes big and watery. He looked scared, like he might’ve done something wrong. “How much experience do you have?” you asked. 

A look of embarrassment immediately washed over his face. The blush that had just begun to disappear suddenly appeared even brighter. 

“N-not much,” he said, repeating what he had said earlier. 

You gave him a big, teasing smile. “Are you a virgin?” you asked. 

Leon let out a whimper, squirming. He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and looked down at you, nodding his head. 

“Have you ever done anything?” you asked, feeling your heart beat fast against your chest. Getting to touch him in a way no else had, being the first person to touch his dick, running your tongue and hands all over the unexplored part of his body…? It made your head spin. 

Leon shook his head again, clearly embarrassed. He looked disappointed in himself. 

“J-just a couple of makeouts… It never went any further.” He looked at you, ashamed of himself. He tried to crack a smile, but you could tell he felt bad. “I guess I wasn’t any good.” 

“You’re so fucking adorable,” you said, your voice sincere. 

His eyes widened and his head shot down to look at you. He looked surprised that you had complimented him and genuinely meant it. 

“I’m gonna make you feel real good, okay, baby?” you said, your voice seductive. 

Leon nodded, his mouth opening and closing before he finally spoke, his voice small. “Th-thank you.” 

“Well aren’t you just so polite?” you said, glancing up at him before turning your attention back to his underwear. 

You shoved them down even more, pushing them down enough for his dick to spring forward. Your suspicions were right. Leon was big. It was long and thick with veins running down all around his shaft. The tip was bright red and leaking. His blush reached the base, ghosting lightly along his skin. He had the prettiest dick you had ever seen. The fact that he was just walking around with this having no idea what to do with it… Christ, your mouth was practically watering. 

You slid one hand across his pubic area, looking up at him to watch his reaction. He was trying hard to keep his breath steady. His eyes were squeezed shut and his mouth was open, silent moans threatening to come out. You smiled at him, wrapping your fingers around the base of his dick and lifting it up. You pressed it against his tummy, watching the precum stick to his skin. You leaned forward and stuck your tongue out, pressing the flat part against one of his balls. 

Leon immediately let out a moan, low and breathy. 

“Fuck,” he whined through gritted teeth, his hands still clenching the countertop. 

You smiled, pushing your tongue against him even harder. You moved your head, pressing your face against his face where it met his balls. You licked up, running your tongue along his balls, pulling one into your mouth and sucking lightly before letting it out with a pop. As you licked at him, you felt the textured skin on your tongue, slight bumps from where he had just shaved. You couldn’t help but smile, finding it cute that even though he wasn’t getting any he still made it a point to keep himself groomed. 

Not that you would care if he wasn’t, to be completely honest. 

“F-feels so good,” Leon breathed. You glanced up at him, continue to lick his balls and the bottom of his dick. You moved your hand lazily, pressing the heel against his dick to grind into it. “Feels like I’m in f-fucking heaven.” 

You let out a breathy laugh, ghosting your breath along his sensitive skin. You pulled back, looking up at him as you began moving your hand a little more, beginning to properly jerk him off. 

“Imagine when I pop your cherry and let you put it in me,” you commented. 

Leon let out a gasp, gripping the counter tighter. His eyes opened and he looked down at you, his eyes wide. 

“You… You’ll let me?” he asked, sounding genuinely surprised. 

You eyed him. “Baby, I’ll let you do anything you want.” 

“Fuck,” he whimpered, squirming. “What if I’m not any good? N-never done it before…” He let his voice trail off, looking away, embarrassed. 

You chuckled. “Guess we’ll just have to keep doing it until you get good at it, yeah?” 

Leon whined, bucking his hips into your hand. 

“Gonna get you addicted, baby,” you said, lowering your head back down to his dick. You stuck your tongue out, lapping at the sensitive skin. You fisted his tip, twisting your wrist so that you could circle it. You felt the precum on your hand. You looked up at him through your lashes, your pupils blown out. You only had one thing on your mind- make Leon cum until he saw stars. 

“Gonna make it so the only thing you can think about is my mouth on your cock,” you continued. “You like that?” 

Leon whined, nodding his head rapidly. His fingers twitched at his side. 

“Already think about you all the time,” he confessed, his face blushing. 

“Really?” you asked, pulling back to look up at him with a raised eyebrow. 

He looked down at you, his bottom lip jutting out in a pout. You moved your hand around his tip to keep him satisfied. He sighed a happy sigh, his lips curling upwards in a small smile. He nodded, clearly lost in his own world but still trying to keep up the conversation. 

“Did you… touch yourself to me?” you asked, a slight mocking tone in your voice. 

Leon nodded again, his face blushing even brighter. 

“Yes,” he whispered. “A… A lot. After my first day, I…” He gulped, taking a deep breath so he could keep himself composed. “When I got to my car I couldn’t wait. I jerked off in the parking lot and I accidentally moaned your name.” He shifted, shame written on his face. “I felt bad, but…” He opened his eyes to look down at you. His pupils were huge, almost completely overtaking his pretty blue irises. “But you’re just so pretty, I can’t help it.” He sighed, a small smile on his face. 

“Dirty boy,” you teased, leaning down once again to place little licks on his balls. You moved your hand more, rubbing your palm up and down more inches of his cock. 

“Only for you,” he breathed, his voice high pitched and whiny now. “Never anyone else. 

“Mhm,” you hummed against his shaft. 

“Wouldn’t let anyone else do this to me in the break room of my job,” Leon said, and then you watched as the situation seemingly fully hit him for the first time. His face fell and he looked worried. He looked down at you, slightly frantic. “Sh-should we stop? I mean, what if someone comes in…?” 

“No one’s here,” you mumbled, now completely focused on licking and sucking near the bottom of his shaft. “Don’t worry, baby. Just let yourself feel good.” 

Your words seemed to ease Leon, because he relaxed back against the counter. You looked up at him, seeing his perfectly content face. He looked like he was on cloud nine, in complete bliss. You had never seen someone so satisfied before and you hadn’t even wrapped your lips around his dick and taken him in your throat yet. Your head started spinning as you thought about how he was going to react to that. 

After a few more minutes, you finally moved away from his sensitive and overstimulated balls. You dragged the flat part of your tongue up the thick vein that lined the bottom of his cock. When you reached the top, you circled your tongue around his tip, lapping up the precum that was leaking out. It was salty and honestly didn’t taste very good, but you didn’t care. You snuck a glance up at him, hearing his whimpers and whines, clearly still trying to keep himself quiet. 

You slid your hand down his shaft, the side bumping into his balls as you finally wrapped your lips around the tip. He sighed, thrusting his hips forward slightly, accidentally pushing a few more inches in your mouth. You gagged, not expecting the sudden intrusion, but Leon didn’t seem to notice. He had raised his hand, shoving his palm over his mouth. His other hand was at his tummy, grabbing at his shirt to hold it up over his abs, the fabric balled in his fist. 

You raised your hand and grabbed his hips to hold him still as best you could. Despite you clearly having the upper hand, Leon was still a big man who was a lot stronger than you. When he felt your fingers on his hips, though, he melted into your touch. 

“I’m sorry,” he breathed, pushing his hips back and looking down at you. 

You pulled off of him, going back to licking his tip. You had spit pooling on your lips from choking a moment before, so you let it dribble onto his dick. You slid your hand up to his tip and gathered the spit on the side of your palm so you could rub his shaft easier. As you did, you leaned back down and sucked his wet tip into your mouth. 

“I’ll-I’ll try not to cum too fast,” Leon breathed, squeezing his eyes shut. He looked like he was going to cry. 

You hummed around his tip, looking up at him with a raised eyebrow. 

“I- uh,” Leon swallowed, trying hard to keep himself composed. “I’ll try to tell you when I do.” He let out a breathy chuckle. “You’re supposed to do that, right?” 

You pulled off of him again, leaning back on your heels as you continued to jerk him off lazily. 

“It’s the nice thing to do, yes,” you confirmed, feeling a strange sense of pride at having to answer his question about getting a blowjob. 

Leon nodded obediently. “Okay,” he said, swallowing. He looked down, watching your hand move on his cock. His eyes shifted up, and he looked into yours. “I’m nice, yeah?” 

You gave him a big smile and leaned forward, placing a kiss on the underside of his head.” 

“You’re really nice,” you said, looking up at him, ghosting your lips against his sensitive skin. “You’re such a good boy, Leon.” 

He sucked in a breath and then let out a small whimper. His hips bucked slightly and you gave him a sly smile. 

“I’m… I’m your good boy, right?” 

“Fuck,” you whispered, feeling the wetness pooling in your underwear. You were so turned on, so horny that it was insane. You were willing to do anything to keep giving Leon head. 

“Yeah, baby,” you said, your voice growing a touch more husky and raspy. You leaned back down, placing open mouthed kisses against his shaft. “You’re my good boy.” 

“Do anything you say,” Leon whined. He kept his one hand grabbing onto his shirt, but he ran the other through his hair. “I promise, b-baby.” 

“I know, Leon,” you said, a small laugh leaving your lips. 

You looked up, taking in the sight of him. He was a wreck above you. His hair was messy and his face was red. His eyebrows were pulled down and his lips were parted, breathy whimpers coming out. 

“God, look at you,” you cooed, your voice low as you continued to kiss the side of his dick. “Standing there so pretty, letting me touch your dick however I want.” 

“Feels good,” Leon said, his voice a whisper. 

“I’d say,” you mocked, dragging out the syllable. You dragged your lips up his shaft until you reached his tip. “Make sure you let me know how good this feels, okay, baby?” 

Leon started to nod, his eyes heavy as he looked down at you, but he was quickly cut off by the feeling of you taking him inside your mouth. His body spasmed, his hips jerking, but you were prepared for his big reactions that time. You relaxed your throat, letting him buck his hips once before catching himself. His hands shot away from the counter and landed on your head. He didn’t push it, though. Instead, he rested his palm against the sides of your head. As you pulled back and lowered your head again, you felt his fingers twiddle against your ears and play with your hair. You smiled as much as you could. Even when he was in such a vulnerable position, even when he was getting his dick sucked for the first time, he was still there to make sure that you stayed grounded. 

You steadily took more of him, breathing through your nose. Leon’s scent was always strong, but being this close to him in such a precarious position made it intoxicating. Your head was spinning, your vision going blurry as inch after inch slid down your throat. Leon kept his hands on your head, his thighs and hips twitching as he tried to keep himself composed enough not to thrust in your mouth and fuck your throat as hard as he wanted. He really was big, but you were determined to take as much as you could. 

You felt him slide down your throat, your walls clenching around him, squeezing his dick as you bounced your head on it. He moaned above you, his mind completely engulfed in the blowjob. He had stopped worrying about being quiet, the way your throat was tight around his dick enough to make him let loose the whiniest whimpers you had ever heard. He sounded so pretty and so desperate. It was like music to your ears. 

The sounds Leon was making only encouraged you to go down further. You pulled back, kissing and licking his tip as you took a deep breath. Then, you grabbed his hips and lowered your head down, pushing his dick deeper down your throat. You felt the tip hit the back and you gagged, which only made him sputter, his entire body spasming. You thought for a moment that he was about to cum, so you looked up at him, only to see that he was already looking down at you. 

“Th-the whole thing?” he asked, his voice small. He looked like he was in a daze. You felt his dick twitch inside your throat. “Holy shit. Holy fucking shit.” He tipped his head back, his tummy heaving as he breathed hard. You pulled back, licking underneath the head of his dick. You looked up at him as you did, watching as he went in and out of consciousness, looking at you with heavy lids. 

“Never ever thought I’d get your mouth around me,” Leon began, his voice high and breathy. He shook his head, raising one hand from your head to run his fingers through his hair. “Nuh uh, never ever ever.” 

You continued to slobber all over his dick, pushing your tongue against his shaft, licking anywhere that you could. You held onto his hips, pushing your thumbs into the skin underneath his hip bones. 

“Fuck,” he moaned, his voice gravelly. He sunk against the counter, his hand sliding down his body. He reached out, looking down at you with blown out pupils. He placed his hand on your cheek, pressing his fingers underneath your jaw. 

You rewarded him by wrapping your lips around his raging red tip once again, and any romantic moment he was feeling was washed away immediately. His face twisted into the beautiful pleasured face he had before and his fingers clenched, grabbing your ear. 

“Never thought I’d ever even get a chance with you,” he said. You looked up at him, watching him talk as his eyes stayed squeezed shut. You bobbed your head up and down sloppily. “Thought you were too good for me. Thought I’d just have to be happy working at the same place as you.” 

You let your eyes stare up at him. You pulled off, sliding his dick out of your throat and going back to licking at it as you listened to what he was saying. His face was turning red and his voice was getting breathier as he continued to babble. 

“Thought I’d just have to be happy jerking off to you,” he confessed. 

You hummed against his tip, placing a kiss against the slit and then pulling back, giving him a mischievous smile. 

“Can you tell me about it, baby?” you asked, looking up at him through your lashes. 

He looked down at you, shame and worry on his face, but his dick twitched against your lips. 

“Wh-when I was in my car, that first day, I-...” He swallowed hard as you went back to suckling on his cock. Your ears burned red as you listened to him. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” 

You moved one hand down and grabbed his cock, pushing it up so you could lick a long stripe underneath up to his tip. Leon breathed hard. 

“I- fuck!- I was so hard,” he grunted. Clearly he was finding it harder to get his words out by that point. “I felt like I was gonna pass out. I just… I just had to touch it. It was twitching in my pants and leaking so much…” He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and sucked hard, making his lips swollen. 

You circled your tongue around his for only a moment before lowering your head down, taking him in your throat. You grabbed his hips again, keeping him steady. It wasn’t working very well anymore, though. Leon was clearly close to his orgasm because his hips wouldn’t stay still and he wouldn’t stop talking. 

“I came so fast and I thought about you the whole time,” he moaned out. “I thought about you riding me and grabbing my shoulders and digging your nails into my skin.” 

Leon bucked his hips harder as you took more inches in your mouth. You flexed your throat, clenching around him as he stretched out your walls. His voice sped up and he sounded more and more desperate as the seconds passed. 

“Want you to mark me. Wanna have scratch marks and hickeys all over me.” Leon’s mind was moving fast, his mouth barely able to keep up. “Wanna let you do everything to me. Want you to… fuck, fuck, fuck. Want you to ruin me- holy shit!” 

Leon’s hands grabbed onto your hair, tugging hard as he bucked his hips. You held onto his hipbones, letting him fuck your mouth to his obvious near completion. 

“I’m gonna cum-! Fuck, I’m gonna cum!” 

It was only a few seconds later that Leon’s sudden fast movements were frozen, his cock buried deep inside your mouth. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he chanted as he came down your throat, spilling thick strings out. 

His fingers loosened and his hands dropped to his sides as you continued to suck him off, milking all of his cum out. When there was nothing left, you pulled off, looking up at his hazy eyes as you swallowed down his orgasm. When it was down, you sat back on your heels and looked up at him, giving him a big smile. 

He looked like he was going to pass out. He gave you a shaky smile and then tipped his head back, breathing hard at the ceiling. You laughed, giving his thigh a pat as you pushed yourself up. Leon stayed leaning against the counter as you stood in front of him. You stared at him, watching as his eyes stayed closed and he kept a smile on his face. He swayed lightly, in his own little world full of bliss and post nut pleasure. He was practically glowing. 

You laughed again, shaking your head at him playfully. You reached your hands out and grabbed his dick. He only smiled bigger, letting you put his dick away and fix his pants. By the time you had gotten the belt back on, he seemed to be stable enough to keep his eyes open. He stared at you, watching your eyes move with a goofy smile on his face, his front teeth showing. You looked up at him, but had to quickly look away. He was making your heart flutter in a much more fluffy way than before. 

“What?” you asked, blush creeping across your cheeks. 

Leon shook his head, but his smile didn’t leave. “Nothing,” he replied, still eyeing you. 

“Why are you staring?” you squeaked, reaching out and giving him a slight push. 

Leon shrugged, looking away shyly. “You’re just pretty.” 

“Hey!” you said, reaching out and poking his chest. “You didn’t stutter.” You gave him a playful smile. 

Leon’s cheeks blushed and his smile got shy. He closed his eyes gently and let out a breath of air through his nose, his lips curling upwards slightly. He looked breathtaking. As you stared at him, thought, you saw his eyes open and a worried expression crossed his face. He turned his head and looked at you, almost frantic. 

“W-wait!” he exclaimed, reaching his hands out and ghosting his fingers on your arms. He pulled you slightly closer to him. “I can do you! I mean, I’ve never done it before, so I probably won’t be any good, but-” 

“Leon,” you said with a laugh, cutting him off. You patted his cheek, shaking your head reassuringly. “I wanna save you doing me for next time.” You gave him a sly smile, flickering your eyes at him up and down. 

“N-next time?” he asked, his voice small. 

You nodded, stepping forward. “Mhm,” you hummed, wrapping your arms around his neck. You pressed your bodies together, feeling his hands take place on your hips. They fit perfectly, as if that’s where they belonged. 

“I still have to let you put it in, remember?” you teased. 

His eyes widened and his hands rubbed around your lower back. 

“Y-” he began, but was cut off by a choke. He cleared his throat and continued. He looked around, lowering his head closer to you and whispering, his eyes wide. “You were serious?” he asked, his slight lisp shining through in his surprise and amazement. 

“Of course,” you chuckled. “You think I’d just leave you hanging like that? Besides, I gotta teach you how to make me feel good.” 

“I wanna learn!” Leon exclaimed, nodding his head rapidly, trying to show you that he really meant it. “I’ll try my best for you! I-I wanna make you feel as good as you just made me feel…” He looked away, clearly shy from his own words. 

You didn’t respond. You couldn’t. All you wanted to do was lean up and kiss him, so that’s exactly what you did. He froze for a second, but then you felt his body melt against yours and he kissed you back. You sighed into the kiss. This one felt… different. It felt more passionate and gentle. It felt like it meant something more than just two tongues wrestling together when someone was trying to get off. The butterflies went crazy in your tummy. 

You pulled back, looking up at him with a genuine and soft smile. He looked down at you, happiness in his eyes. 

There was a moment of silence as Leon’s eyes flickered around your face, studying you. Then, he sputtered out quickly, “Will you go on a date with me?” 

Your shock was probably written on your face, but you were just so surprised that he actually wanted to go on a date with you. You knew that Leon was shy and awkward, but he was still a guy, so you just thought… You just thought that all he really wanted was to get laid. He wanted to go on a date? Like… an actual one? 

“You want to go on a date with me?” you asked, your voice raising an octave. 

Leon nodded. “I wanna take you out. I want to… uh… treat you.” He looked away, his voice lowering. “I like you…” 

You felt your face turning red and you couldn’t look at him anymore. You looked at the floor, feeling shy. Your heart was beating fast against your chest and your hands were suddenly sweaty.

You nodded shyly. “I’ll go on a date with you. I… I like you, too.” 

“Holy shit,” he breathed out, sounding relieved. He couldn’t wipe a smile off of his face. His fingers flexed against your waist. He looked down at you, his face giddy. “Tomorrow? I-I’ll take you to dinner.” 

You nodded almost immediately. “Tomorrow sounds good. What time do you get off work?” 

“6:30.” 

You nodded absentmindedly, thinking about the options. “Okay,” you said finally. “I get off at 5. Do you wanna… meet me at my place when you get off?” 

“Sure!” he agreed. “And we can go out to eat.” 

“Yeah!” You gave him a smile. “Then when you drop me back off at my house, you can come inside.” 

He nodded, looking shy. “Sounds good.” He lowered his voice, then quietly added, “I’m excited.” 

“I can’t wait,” you said, giving him a smile. 

After that, you told Leon that you two better head out before the security guard caught you and you got into trouble. He agreed, and you both began walking back towards the front office. You grabbed your things, but Leon quickly took them out of your hands. 

“I can get it for you.” He gave you a playful smile. “I’m strong, remember?” Now he was the one doing the teasing. 

You let out a small laugh and shook your head. 

Leon walked you out, staying by your side the entire time. As you walked, your knuckles bumped against each other, and you couldn’t help from grabbing his hand and lacing your fingers together. You felt his sweaty palms against yours. Your heart swelled, threatening to burst out of your chest. He put your back in the back of your car and then opened the driver door for you. You rolled your window down so you could say goodbye. Before you could stop yourself, you reached out and grabbed his shirt. You pulled him down, placing a kiss on his lips before letting him go. He raised back up, his face bright red and sweaty. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Leon,” you said, putting your car in drive. 

“See you tomorrow,” he said, giving you a small wave.

The rest of the night you couldn’t stop thinking about rookie Leon Kennedy. You couldn’t stop thinking about his big dick, about the way he sounded when you were blowing him, about how he played with your hair while he was getting his cock sucked, about how sweet he was, about how shy and nervous he acted. It got to be a real problem when you realized you actually couldn’t get him off your mind. 

Do I have a crush on him? you pondered as you thought about the date, but also about what you were going to do afterwards… 

You couldn’t wait. 

[joelscurls]

stranded

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

words: 2.6k

summary: your shitty boyfriend dumps you on the side of the road after a fight. joel miller finds you.

warnings: 18+ minors dni, no outbreak, explicit smut, oral (f receiving) (joel miller is a munch and u cannot convince me otherwise), slight angst, reader has a shitty/abusive (ex) bf (only briefly mentioned), allusions to piv sex, i think that's it? lmk if i missed anything!

a/n: this is my entry for the summer lovin' writing challenge put together by the incredible @pedgito, @amanitacowboy, and @chaotic-mystery (ily all so much), based on the above moodboard with the location hiking (i went for hitchhiking) and the quote "i'm your only hope". i haven't written in what feels like years & am admittedly rusty, but alas! it was so much fun to get back into writing with a little challenge. dividers by @/saradika-graphics. this was minimally edited; all mistakes are my own.

His red pickup truck had been the first car you'd seen in hours. Rain pouring down, drenching your t-shirt and streaking mascara along the apples of your cheeks, it'd been like a beacon through the fog. 

You’d asked to borrow his cell phone to call a friend. Don't have one, he’d drawled. Got a landline at my place, but the whole county’s without power.

And though you knew nothing about the man in the driver's seat -- not his name nor his history with the law -- you'd still gotten in when he'd pushed open the passenger-side door. After all, you had little other choice.

It was either that, or risk freezing to death on the side of the road where your boyfriend had deserted you.  Ex boyfriend, now. That asshole had taken everything from you: your phone, your keys, your dignity -- and left you for dead. So really, how much worse could this admittedly handsome stranger be?

Just a bit, it turns out. 

Okay, so he's giving you a lift. Back to his place to wait out the storm and call a friend on his landline once the power returns. And he's not hurling nonsensical accusations at you with hands curled tightly around the steering wheel. No declarations of, "My buddy swears he saw you dancing with another guy. Why would he lie about that?"

Still, his silence is beyond off-putting. His brows seem permanently contorted downward, his eyes narrowed on the road ahead as he drives, the highway closer and closer to flooding with every mile that passes. He hasn't asked if you're okay despite the fact that you're holding your ankle in your lap, its incessant throbbing a reminder of when your ex pushed you out of his car earlier. No, he hasn't even offered his name.

You wonder if you're driving to your death.

The first words he speak are muttered under his breath, a quick, "it's just down this road," as pavement turns to gravel. He slows the truck, tires crunching and mud splattering until the trees give way to a tiny wood cabin. The driveway is a long stretch of dirt that winds through an unkempt yard, all tall grass and overgrown shrubs.

It's dark, the sky an angry black as you hobble out of the truck. Your ankle stings and your heart pounds when the strange man rounds on you, and you flinch when he outstretches a hand.

"You hurt?"

His voice, though unamused, drips like thick, rich honey. Pools at your feet with the rainwater.

"Yeah," you respond meekly. Your fingers curl against your palm, nails digging into the skin there. "It's uh, my ankle." His eyes follow yours down to your feet. Widen at the sight of black and blue. 

"Shit."

It's quiet for a long moment. You can tell he's trying to piece it all together: how you ended up alone on the side of the road, hurt.  He still doesn't ask though. Not until a particularly loud rumble of thunder sounds overhead, causing you to nearly jump out of your skin.

He sighs, a half-hearted comforting hand on your shoulder. 

"Someone dump you out there?" 

"Yeah," you sigh. "Boyfriend. We got into a fight and he just...lost it."

The man nods. Takes a small step forward as you hop on one foot next to him. 

It must take five whole minutes to get to the front door. Your ankle only feels worse by the time you step onto the porch, throbbing having turned into searing pain somewhere along the way. You bite down hard on your bottom lip as he jostles the key in the doorknob, the metallic taste of your own blood a temporary distraction.

He motions for you to follow him in, which you do, albeit hesitantly. His house is as you'd expect it to be from your brief encounter: little furniture or decoration, dishes in the sink, a general air of…man…throughout the small, dark space.

“Sit down,” he says. “I'll get a first-aid-kit.”

“Wait,” you stop him, because for some reason it seems of utmost importance in this very moment, despite the flash flood outside and your inability to walk, to know–

“What's your name?”

“Joel.”

You situate yourself on the couch as you wait for him to return. Scan the room for any signs of imminent danger. There’s a bookshelf on the far wall, stacked top to bottom with hardcovers and carved wooden trinkets. You wonder if he – Joel – made them himself. 

You wonder if the books keep him company out here; if the stories of Huck Finn and Moby Dick make him feel less alone. 

You wonder why he’s so isolated in the first place. 

You have little time to dwell on it though, as he re-enters the room promptly, dusty first-aid-kit in one hand and a lantern in the other. He places the latter down by his feet before pulling up a footstool. Opens up the kit and pulls out a roll of gauze.

“Might hurt a little,” he warns, beginning to unravel it.

You nod. Brace yourself. 

By the look of his hands – large and gruff – you expect him to be a bit rough. But he’s gentle, surprisingly so, cradling the lower half of your leg and wrapping your ankle with laser focus. His fingers, though calloused, skate across your skin with a near-startling softness. 

You watch his face as he works on you, quickly finding yourself transfixed by the way his brows contort and his eyes narrow, by the absentminded twitch of his mouth. He looks so much less intimidating like this, and you inadvertently begin to relax into his touch.

He seems to notice this, leaning in closer to your body, and while you know it's just to get a better angle, more precision, it still sends a rather confusing shockwave of electricity up your spine. In this proximity, you can practically feel the heat radiating off of his body. Can practically see every fiber of muscle in his biceps as they flex under his flannel shirt.

This close, you're met with the rather inconvenient realization that Joel is beautiful.

You try to tell yourself that it's purely situational, that if you hadn't just been dumped on the side of the road by your asshole boyfriend, you wouldn't be seeking the physical comfort of another man. Still, this does nothing to stop the steady acceleration of your heartbeat, nor the growing arousal between your thighs. 

All of this, despite the pain in your ankle.

You almost don't realize he's done mending you, the shifting of his hand to your opposite calf sending you into a prompt spell of dizziness. Mind flooded with images of him spreading you apart, taking you right here on this worn, leather couch, you're silently reeling. 

His eyes flit up to meet yours, a little darker than you recall them being. His fingers curl against your skin and your breath hitches. 

Does he feel this too?

You shift experimentally. Let your legs fall apart just an inch. To your dismay, he pulls his hand back; clears his throat.

And just like that – the bubble bursts.

“All set,” he announces as he stands, before practically running out of the room.

A little humiliated, you retreat back into yourself. Stare out the window and pretend not to notice when he rejoins you in the living room and wordlessly drags his footstool to the opposite side of the room.

The remainder of the day passes agonizingly slow. Minutes feel like hours, the sky only growing darker, and it’s a wonder how Joel can even see the pages of the book he’s currently got his nose stuck into.

Not that he’d offered you one. 

Instead, you’ve been stuck in place. A prisoner to this couch, the springs of which are digging into your back uncomfortably. Staring out the window like some harrowed female protagonist in a period piece.

Joel doesn’t seem to notice your presence, after a while. He reads, drinks warm beer, and quite literally twiddles his thumbs. Anything to avoid talking to you. 

You’re not sure what you did wrong. Had you said something to offend him without realizing? Had your subtle pass at him been less subtle than you’d thought? Had you crossed a line? You’d really just considered it innocent flirting. Maybe Joel hadn’t.

Regardless, it makes you wonder why he even brought you here. Maybe he’d just wanted to feel like a hero – hadn’t thought about what came after. About you occupying his precious space. 

After a while of sitting in the same place, your muscles begin to ache. Plus, your throat feels dry. You need to stand, need to get something to drink. Except, when you move to get up, Joel immediately stops you. 

“Where you goin’?” 

“Need a drink.”

“I’ll get you one,” he offers. “What do you want?” 

What you really want is to go home. To forget this entire day even happened.

So you settle on–

“Vodka?” 

He hums. “Don’t got that.”

“Tequila?”

“Got some scotch left. Might be one more beer. Was really hopin’ to have it though.”

You scoff. 

“Okay. Water, then?” 

“That I can do.” 

He disappears into the kitchen and returns moments later with a glass. Hands it over without making eye contact. 

“Thanks,” you mutter. He says nothing in response. Just collects his empty beer bottles from off the floor and retreats once again. 

By the time he comes back, the sun is setting – at least, what can be seen of it through the dark clouds that still rage in the sky. 

He seems tense, fixating himself by the window and watching the storm with such acuity you think he may be waiting for the second it ends to kick you out. 

“Have you heard anything about when this is supposed to pass?” you ask.

“Have no electricity,” he grumbles. “So, no.”

You stretch out your back. Stand. This time, Joel doesn't stop you. “Just didn't know if you had a radio or something.”

“I don't.”

Rounding on him, you attempt to get him to look in your direction. Still, he stares straight ahead, like you're not even there. Frustration bubbles in you, quickly reaching a full boil.

"What is your problem?"

He finally looks at you. And then he laughs, though you get the sense that he's not amused in the slightest.

"My problem?”

You nod. Raise your eyebrows at him.

“I'm lettin' you wait out a storm in my house right now,” he says. “Doesn't seem like somethin' you should be asking me."

You scoff. "I just don't know what I did to piss you off."

He turns to face you completely now. 

"Are you kidding? Haven't done nothing but inconvenience me since you got in my truck. Askin’ for a fuckin’ cocktail like this is some kind of resort. Starin’ at me all day like i'm a guest in my own home.”

Is he fucking serious?

“Why’d you even pick me up?"

"Wasn't gonna drive by a stranded girl on the side of the road, was I?"

You're both silent for a long moment. You can't exactly be mad at him for rescuing you. Still, you feel extremely uncomfortable now, knowing that he doesn't want you here. Tears pickle the corners of your eyes threateningly. You choke them back.

"Well fine, if i'm such a fucking burden, i'll leave."

You're expecting him to open the door for you. Throw you out to the wolves. So you're more than taken aback when he shakes his head at you disapprovingly.

"Like hell you will. There's about two feet of water out there. Where you gonna go?"

"I don't know,” you admit. “But i'll figure it out."

"You'll figure it out?"

"That's what I said."

Joel tuts. "Look at the state of you right now. You can barely even walk. There’s no power anywhere. Just face it: you wanna get home safely, before tomorrow, i'm your only hope."

“Fuck you,” you spit, stepping closer to him. Where does he get off, acting like such a righteous savior? You're going to brush past him, leave anyway, but as soon as you go to move, his hand is winding around your arm.

“Don't.”

“Or what?” you hiss. 

“Just – don't.” His voice is less angry; more pleading.

“You don't want me here,” you say. It's not a question, but he nods anyway.

“Yes I do. I mean – I don't want anything to happen to you out there. Please just – let me make this up to you.”

His hand slides up to your shoulder. Squeezes gently. Your eyes wander to where he holds you. When they flit up to his face again, you find he's already gazing at you.

You're not sure who moves first.

You're back on his couch in an instant, your shorts being tugged down and off your legs, along with your panties. And then Joel is shouldering himself between your legs, shimmying down the couch and situating his face right in front of your pussy.

His nails dig into the skin of your thighs as he gets his first taste of you, and he groans. You shudder at the sight of him, the sound of him. Your fingers find their way to the curls at the crown of his head and grasp tightly onto them.

“Is this what you need, baby?” he slurs, and you nod deliriously.

“Yeah,” he smirks. “I know.”

His tongue dips into your apex, greedily lapping up some of your sweet nectar before he finally decides to put you out of your misery, dragging it up to swipe over your swollen clit. 

You instinctually buck against his face, trying to force him closer, and he chuckles. Grabs onto your thighs and pulls you toward his mouth. His tongue begins to relentlessly massage your clit and you cry out, a needy little whine that echoes through the room. 

“Mhm,” he hums against you in understanding, the vibrations of his voice sending a wave of pleasure coursing through your core. And then he pulls away, only momentarily, to spit on your pussy, the sound of it so obscene that your eyes roll back in response. He's back on you immediately, plunging two fingers into your soaked cunt and curling them against your g-spot as his tongue laves at you.

In less than a minute, you're coming hard, gushing all over his chin and his hand. He doesn't relent until you're gasping for him to stop, scratching at his shoulders in desperation. And then he's kissing you, the taste of your arousal on his mouth, and though satiated, you've never felt so starving.

“Need you,” you mumble against his lips, your hands roving restlessly across any part of him you can reach, grasping at fabric and skin.

He nibbles at your neck and you inhale the scent of him. Commit the smell of his sweat and musk to memory. This'll probably be the only time you have him, after all. You push that thought to the back of your mind. 

Sitting back on his haunches, Joel pulls off his shirt and undoes his belt. Shucks his jeans off. He hovers back over you with a newfound ferocity in his eyes. 

“Up,” he orders. Helps you sit. You pull your own shirt off and toss it aside. Unclasp your bra and let it fall from your body as Joel stares wolfishly at your exposed chest.

Your eyes, on the other hand, fly straight to his cock. It tents in his boxer, his bulge a bit intimidating, and you feel yourself beginning to salivate.

He chuckles above you, hand coming to rest placatingly on your waist.

“Think you can take it, baby?”

In truth, you're not entirely sure. But you're sure as hell not about to waste any more time wondering.

“Please just – fuck me.”

He shifts his weight. Props your ankle atop his back and rests with his elbows on either side of you. And then he grinds against you, the heft of his hard cock rubbing against your bare pussy.

“Patience,” he tuts. “We got nothin’ but time.”

[randomgurl2326]

Adam Relationship Headcannons

SFW

You two met after the whole Lilith and Eve debacle

You were sent to be his Guardian Angel down in the Garden of Eden. Honestly, he couldn’t care less about Eve when he first saw you

He was in the middle of the garden, talking to Eve and then you show up… man’s whipped. Simp I tell you

(Actually wished that you were made to be his wife instead of the baddie Lilith or the goodie-two-shoes Eve)

Again. Whipped.

Now, tho is guy… whewww. He may seem incredibly misogynistic to practically everyone around him. But he can be a total sweetheart

He would—if you didn’t know how to already—teach you how to shred on the guitar

Speaking of guitars, that gold strat that he had during the battle in the last episode is only used during a special occasion (case and point, when you two have a date night or after sex)

He also serenades you every chance he gets

After dinner

After a meeting

After sex

After just walking the goddamn promenade

I also think he would be heavenly (ha! See what i did there? No? Okay…) in the kitchen. Especially for date night. Adam knows how to make the best prime rib in heaven

(Lute totally hasn’t tried to blackmail the recipe out of him)

Adam is also very insecure about how he looks under his mask

Especially after having two wives ditch him for Lucifer

He definitely needs to be praised on a daily basis, even if it seems like he’s an egotistical asshole

Every day you tell him how handsome he is and he doesn’t believe you (c’mon have you seen him fuckin’ hot)

You two sometimes don’t see each other days on end because you both work so much. You being a high-ranking Angel/seraphim and him being well… the first man on Earth

If you guys go especially long for not seeing each other, you guys hole up a few days in your shared home spending time with each other among other things…

By the way, you and Lute are best friends, probably more than her and Adam

Like, seriously, if you’re not with him, you’re with her. Gossiping or fucking around, it’s heaven, there’s infinite things to do

You two are also very lovey dovey with each other

One time Sera had cover Emily’s eyes with her wings because you two were making out and feeling each other up in the middle of the Heavenly Court Room

Despite all of his faults, he’s a good husband to you, a great one actually. And if you two were to ever have kids, he’d definitely be the dad who everyone loves

He would introduce them to rock, punk, metal.

Definitely plays his guitar to get them to sleep every night

NSFW

Okay… he want lying about being the Dick Master. He can pleasure women, that is not a problem for him

Also, it might not seem like it, but he loves going down on you. Probably one of his favorite pass times actually

I swear, this man could make you scream his name within minutes. No joke

Don’t get me wrong, he loves receiving head

But just not as much as he loves eating pussy (Lilith and Eve missed out on that one for sure)

He also has a bigger dick than average

Probably 6-7.5 inches in length and hella girthy. Uncircumcised (duh), and a vein that runs up the bottom of it

Definitely knows how to use it

Every one within a five mile radius of your guys’ house… let’s just say I feel really bad for them

No joke, he is insane about pleasuring you

This probably also feeds into his insecurity about you leaving him (you won’t)

He for sure has a praise kink. Seriously, tell him he’s a good boy and he’s unraveling under your touch instantly

His favorite position is cowgirl (what can he say, he loves powerful women)

But he’s down for whatever position you want; missionary, warrior, against a wall, whatever

Speaking of wall sex, Lute has definitely caught you two more than once

The first time she did was when you two were in Adam’s office while he was supposed to be planning the next extermination. She came to ask him a question about it and there you two were. Goin’ at it like rabbits on the wall next to his desk

She couldn’t look you guys in the eye for three weeks. It was terrible

Adam also doesn’t seem like the type of guy to have sex toys or feel the need to use them

But, again, he’s whipped. So he’s willing to do whatever you want to do

Wont admit this to anyone but you, but he likes to sub every once in a while. Especially with all the ‘first man’ stuff weighing down on him he needs a way to get away from all that stress

Despite him making crude jokes about sex, he’s a very giving partner in bed

He had to make sure you cum at least twice before he gets his dick wet

Also, have I mentioned how good he is at eating pussy? Oh, I have? Yeah, well, he is (especially with that tiny bit of stubble on his chin… gahhh)

Just needed to get it out there

All in all, Adam is a very giving person in bed, can be selfish at times but will make up for it. He loves you too much for you to feel mad or upset (especially with him)

A/N: this was my first time writing for Adam and Hazbin in general. I hope you liked it. I love you all💚💜

[harmeu]

Falling Tears

(BSD MEN REACT TO THEIR SPOUSE CRYING)

(GN!Reader)

Dazai Osamu:

We all know Dazai is one to shrug off people's problems as if it were a measly little thing that was nothing to fuss over. The casual “You’ll be fine~!” But we all also know that Dazai cares for you. He loves you. If you were to sob in front of him it’d send him into an overdrive of broken worry.

You were tired. Sick and tired. It felt as if everyone was shrugging you off of your problems and you ran to the agency bathroom because your throat closed up and felt water appearing in your eyes. 

THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.

You knew those footsteps. It was your boyfriend. Dazai. You immediately began trying to wipe the tears, imagining that if Dazai were to see he’d try to stifle his laughter because of all those times he waved off your problems and vents. Sadly the tears couldn’t stop and now you were a flushed mess looking down to avoid his gaze. It was piercing.

“Darling what's this? Why’re you trying to hide your pretty face from meee~?” He cooed tilting your head up, having a playful smile but it broke as he noticed your tears. 

“Oh..what happened.?” 

“No one listens or takes me seriously. Not even you! I’m tired. Go away.” You try to shrug him off but he grasps your hands pulling you onto his chest.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He frowned, his face softening. “I’m the asshole for ignoring. I should've known.” Worry was evident on his handsome face and you flushed at his words. You really needed to hear that. As Dazai apologized he peppered your face with kisses.

“Next time slap me if I brush off your problems. I might like it if you slap me though.” He winked which you scoffed at, holding back a chuckle.

Chuuya Nakahara:

Chuuya, despite being someone who definitely needs anger management classes will get immensely suspicious if you were to get the tiniest bit of a frown on your face. “Are you alright?” He’d constantly ask and once you break down his heart shatters.

You collapsed onto your bed spasming a bit from trying to hold back your tears. You knew you could tell Chuuya your love about your problems. Though there was a thing inside of you that said that he would be forcing himself to comfort you so you kept your mouth shut silently sobbing into a pillow curled up.

You flinched as the door knob cranked open revealing your boyfriend with wide eyes as he saw you so disheveled.

“What's wrong doll?” He murmured going to you and sitting beside you on the bed taking his gloved fingers to stroke your back delicately.

“I-I’m sorry I don’t wanna bother.” You mumble back looking back down at the pillow you sobbed into.

“Tell me who did it.” Chuuyas glare becomes more pronounced as seconds pass and you almost chuckle at his overprotectiveness.

“I’m just tired.” You say averting your gaze.

“I can be your stress relief.” He stared and flushed at his own words, scowling. “Not like that! Like..my arms are free for you.”

You laughed and dug yourself deep into his chest nuzzling as Chuuya put his chin on your head, kissing it gently.

Ranpo Edogawa:

This piece of shit of an egotistical man will KNOW your sad but won’t do anything about it. He’ll brush it off like Dazai in a more childish way. “I have better things to do!” He’d say casually sucking on his lollipop. But those once closed eyes would widen at the sight of your tears coming on display.

Everything and everyone was so mean. Why can’t they just understand you're tired?! You’ve tried. So. Many. Times. To talk to your boyfriend about your problems but he’d change the topic with what he was busy with.

Thinking no one was here you buried yourself into your desk of the agency, silent tears slipping out your eyes as you took a shaky breath, hands trembling beneath the desk. You sniffled but then heard a drop of some kind of food. Ice cream. Splat on the ground as you lift your head to see your boyfriend staring at you wide eyed, his glasses barely holding on.

“What?” You say annoyed wiping your tears so you don’t embarrass yourself further.

“You're crying.” He said as if it weren't the most obvious thing in the world.

“No shit.” You rubbed your eyes frantically realizing the tears wouldn’t stop which turned into a sniffle fest and you averted your body from him in a fluster.

Footsteps came closer and you felt arms wrap around your waist from behind and a face nuzzle into your neck.

“Did I do it.?” Ranpo mumbled a childish tone evident in his voice.

“Your part of it.” You said between tears and then your boyfriend kissed the back of your neck sending shivers down you. You try to glare but he uses the puppy dog look to manipulate you. Damn it.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled averting his gaze.

You didn’t fully accept his apology but you did accept the kisses he kept giving you during this encounter making you flush.

(FIRST POST IN LIKE MONTHSOMG anyway)

[bywons]

𖥔ׅ YOU CAN BE THE BOSS — PSH

𝖮𝖱 𝖶𝖧𝖤𝖭 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝗌𝗌 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗎𝗍𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝖼𝗋𝖾𝗍, 𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝖼𝗎𝗍𝖾

𝖲𝖧𝖮𝖶𝓉𝖨𝖬𝖤 ⋆ 𝖼𝖾𝗈!𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗄 𝗌𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗇 𝗑 𝖿!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𖥔 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 𝒾𝖭𝖢𝖫𝖴𝖣𝖨𝖭𝖦 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉, 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖿𝖺𝗇𝗂𝗍𝗒?, 𝗅𝗈𝗍𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 1399 wc ( CATALOGUE。)

૮ ♡◞ ◟ ა ⠀PLS REBLOG !! 4 my princess @atrirose i locee u vv much TT

“you were supposed to send me that report a week ago.”

here comes the insufferable perfectionist, with an annoying handsome face which makes it just impossible to hate him for too long. he pushes the glass so it settles still on the top of his nose bridge, eyebrows jotted together to hint a slight disappointment in you. you want to mock him, make faces and scream at him, “leave me alone, idiot!”, but then you visualise your resignation. what an asshole of a boss.

you lift your head up to meet his eyes, hands buried in the pockets of black trousers, leaning tall over your work cubicle. “i uhm- i was, i was sick. high fever,” oh gosh, you hope he doesn't catch the shakiness in your voice.

“high fever?” park sunghoon raises an eyebrow, skepticism etched on his face. “convenient timing, don't you think?”

your heart races, and you mentally kick yourself for not thinking of a better excuse. “it came on suddenly,” you stammer, hoping your blush isn’t too obvious. “but i'm feeling better now, so i'll get right on that report.”

and just as you're about to type away on your laptop, a soft but firm grip on your wrist stops you from doing so. and of course, it has to be park sunghoon, the sole trouble maker in your life.

“actually, come meet me at my office,” he says, before letting off your wrist and striding off to his office.

ugh, there you go, another hour long lecture again.

shortly after, you make it to his office. you glance back, all your colleagues getting ready to end their shift and head home. fuck you, park sunghoon, you evil man.

“sir, can i—”

“come in,” sunghoon's serious invites you in, and you close the translucent glass door behind you, which does a pretty good job of reflecting the inner furniture and heads in a blurry, but certain way. “don't just look around, take a seat.”

sunghoon doesn't lift his head up even for a second after you enter the room, he simply gestures you to sit down before him, as he types something on his own laptop, the coffee forgotten and cold beside it. you tap your heels slightly against the office floor, it's been a whole fifteen minutes inside this room already, a minute more and you might just combust.

it's hard to stare at his face. not in a boring, ‘he's so rude’ way, but more of in a breathtaking, ‘i want to kiss him’ way. to be honest, you've imagined how his lips would feel against yours, whether they would move in sync and sweep you by your feet, or steal your breath and make you fantasise. would he like the kiss? would park sunghoon ever kiss you? does he want to kiss you, like you do right now? his ever concentrated face directed towards the laptop screen, the little creases that form around his eyebrows makes him look so cute. you'd like to think that it's just a harmless crush on your grumpy boss, and nothing more than that.

but time's passing by fast, and you need to get home. the taps of your heels against the floor fastens as you say in a tone of urgency.

“mr. park, is this about—”

“call me sunghoon,” he startled you, closing his laptop, “we're of the same age, so it's weird.”

“ok, sunghoon,” you gulp, gosh it feels weird, “is this about me not submitting my leave application?”

“no? it's just a .. friendly talk with my secretary.”

“oh?” what is this bastard planning on again, “well, what is it?”

“how sick were you? i mean, your temperature,” at this point you could throw yourself out of the window. shit, he's kinda smirking, does he really know you weren't sick? that it's all a lie? that you were faking it to avoid a deadline that had you pulling your hair out and attend the corporate party instead? in your defence, that party was much needed by you after a week long of hectic paperwork.

“like about…a 102—”

“i guess people with a 102F fever don't go to parties?” crap. you know that smirk, that ‘i-caught-you-bastard’ smirk. was he at that party too? shit, no way— “i was there too.”

sunghoon sets aside his laptop and leans in against the work desk, folded hands beneath his chin and another ‘know it all’ smirk shoots at you. you gulp, did he listen to you and minji talking too? oh no, no, no, no. you don't want to be fired.

“you annoying bastard,” it was intended to be a low whisper, but under the pressure of your enraging boss's stare, it came out louder than you intended.

“annoying bastard? i think that suits me?”

“no, mr park i didn't mean—”

“no no it's okay, i get that, a lot,” and now he gets up from his seat, circling around his desk to stand just in front of you.

“but i don't get ‘he's cute’ a lot.”

shit.

“i don't get ‘i like him’,‘he's so handsome’,‘he's so gorgeous’ a lot,” you were too mesmerised by his walks and the glints of his eyes to realise he's too close now, hands on either sides of the arm rest in your chair, blocking you in, “i don't get… ‘i wish i could kiss him’ a lot.”

shit, is he smiling or smirking? you can't really say when his face is inches above yours, babbling nothing but the truth. you had in fact shared your little desires about your boss to your best friend, minji, in the party. if only you knew he would be there, you would've bolted out of that place.

this current situation is really getting to you. you're trapped in a damn chair, you don't dare to move as his face only comes closer. a sudden wave of deja vu hits you; no, you've never been trapped in a chair like this by your boss before. but this intimacy, this fluttering proximity reminds you of those playful staring contest between you and him across the office, stumbling over paperwork and crashing against sunghoons chest, and now, this. you could feel heat rushing to your cheeks, as slowly his face transcends down further, now right beside your ear, his lips softly brushing the earlobe.

“no, i-i mean the other park sunghoon, you k-know?”

“hmm? but there's only one park sunghoon in the hype building whom i know of.”

“no you're getting me—”

park sunghoon doesn't let you finish your sentence, he thinks you're too cute to not kiss right now, so he does just that.

a small kiss, a look of admiration and fush in his eyes, then another, and another, and this one holds for a moment.

and the kiss is just as you imagined, soft, sensual, in sync with your rapid heartbeats as the distance slowly begins to disappear, his hands closing in around your cheeks to cup them.

he pulls back, breathing heavy with that smug smirk of his, “was it … cute? or gorgeous?”

“i think i want to kiss you once more,” you whisper. a twitching smile, shy eyes looking up at him and he smiles back, you feel yourself blushing again.

“of course,” sunghoon chuckles, now lifting you up from the chair and sitting down on it himself. placing you on his lap, he leans in for a sweet kiss, once more. it's just as soft and breathtaking as before, this time, you melt even more as you hook your hands around his neck and blush furiously into the kiss.

sitting on your boss’s lap to share a passionate kiss was definitely not in your bingo list this year.

his kisses travel down from your lips, becoming more feathery and ticklish as they reach your cheeks, jaw and finally the crook of your neck.

“i think i find you quite gorgeous too,” he holds you by your waist.

“you think?”

“nah, i'm sure”

“would then be uhm, like to be personal secretary?” he smirks, caressing your cheeks.

“and what do i get in return?” you chuckle

“anything you want,” he reassures, softly gliding a hand behind your back. your eyes surge around the office room for a potential gift, and then they land on the big bold ‘CEO PARK SUNGHOON’ engraved on the metal plate, and then you look back at him, “anything?”

“oh? mrs. ceo?” he smirks again, looking at the plate and then back at you. “of course, you can be the boss,”

a/n — yayaya comeback fic how r u guys, missed ya smsmsm ^0^ pleek lmk what u think of this !!! personally, my skills r cooked TT CLICK ME

© bywons, 2024. do not copy, translate or upload any of my works without my permission

📌 :: PERM TAGLIST IS OPEN ( the tags are rebloged ! ) nets. @/k-labels

[itsharleystuff]

- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ 𝐌Í𝐀 ❜┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌

Gif not mine!

— 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Javier Peña x afab!fem reader (implied hispanic/latina)

— 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.3k

— 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: After a major fight between the two of you, a month goes by in which you give each other the silent treatment, figuring out if you should start seeing different people. However, Javier has a problem: he can’t get his dick hard for anyone that isn’t you. So, when he sees how easily you can move on from him, he gets awfully jealous.

— 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ content (minors dni!), sex, possessive/jealous behavior, unprotected sex, p in v, cuffs, slight dirty talk, semi-public sex, use of ‘slut’, pet names (sweetheart, corazón, cariño, hermosa, etc.), praise kink, come eating, oral sex (f! & m! receiving), mentions of drugs, smoking, a bit of angst, very little plot (mostly filth), weirdly structured plot. I think that’s it.

— a/n: there’s some phrases and words in Spanish, some are translated and some aren’t. Let me know if translations are needed :)

No use of y/n.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Javier Peña has never been a jealous man.

It's simply never been in his nature, not even when he was a child playing around with toys that he loved to share. And nowadays? Well, he had other stuff in mind that didn't leave any room for those pedestrian feelings.

As of now, he -supposedly- didn't have anything to be worried about. Specially not women.

Everyone knew he fucked hookers so good that they'd spill all their secrets in his ear, and that he was attractive enough to leave a bar with company just after a couple of minutes from arriving there. But to anyone observant, it was obvious how bad he had it for you.

Still, that didn't stop him from being an asshole.

You remember the last time you two spoke and how it turned out to be a fucking disaster: basically, he didn't like the idea of exclusivity because it involved feelings that he wasn't ready to admit, so you had called him a slut (along with many other insults) and he'd said that you were childish and sensitive. So naturally, everything went downhill after that fight.

Currently, things were pretty tense with Javier, even at work. But things just got worse when the Colombian police sent you onto an undercover mission, nothing really extravagant but still quite dangerous. And apparently, the DEA knew nothing about it.

The task was rather simple: you'd go to one of Medellin's busiest nightclubs and find out if there was a cocaine distribution line working there. The problem was what the agent had overheard from Carrillo. Not only did he knew now that you were at the place, but he also had word that one of the cartel's most wanted sicarios was about to be there too. And knowing the Coronel as well as he did, you were right in the middle of a crossfire. He arrived at the club earlier than any of them, hoping to find you quickly and draw you out before the asset came in.

But, oh hell.

What he saw the minute he stepped in almost made him lose his shit.

⩇⩇:⩇⩇

You had no business being in there this late. You'd already passed down all the information needed to your boss and now you were just waiting for the cartel's member to arrive so you could call Carrillo and let him finish the job.

But in the meantime, you decided to at least try and have some fun. After everything that went on with Peña, you felt like you deserved a distraction.

The music was loud, reggaetón reverberating in your body as you danced, eyes wide awake in case the target decided to show up. The stranger you were dancing with had his hands all over your body, holding you close to him while you moved in synch. He was handsome in a boyish way, and a bit clumsy, but good enough to take your mind off from the irritating DEA agent. At least for now.

To be honest, you didn't lack any attention at the moment. Both men and women would come up to you, hoping to get a piece of what you had to offer. It came without saying that everything about you tonight resulted appealing to the kind of people that frequented the place, being an undercover assignment you did your best to blend in. And it seemed to work out wonderfully. The flashy makeup and short dress that only accentuated your figure made you stand out amongst the rest; nevertheless, what really attracted everyone's gaze wasn't any of that, but the confidence with which you'd walk around the place like you owned it.

"¿Qué tal si nos vamos pa' un lugar más oscurito, mamacita?" (How about we go to a more private place?) The guy, whose name you didn't even know, proposed. And though the idea sounded nice, your job wasn't quite finished.

"Not yet, papi. Dame un par de canciones más." (Let's dance a bit more). He hummed in response, his hands traveling from your lower back to grab your ass firmly.

"Usted manda." (You call the shots). The answer made you smile cheekily as you lean in to him, hoping to connect his lips with yours.

However, you definitely didn't expect to be abruptly pulled back with force instead, ripping you apart from the man's hold.

"What the hell..." you start to complain and twist in the strangers grasp, who started to drag you out the dance floor and keeping your wrists behind your back.

"Hombre, ¿pero qué diablo' le pasa?" (What's wrong with you, man?). Asked your poor companion, glancing over at the guy that took you away from him.

But you knew exactly who he was even before he spoke. You'd recognize that musky cologne anywhere, mixed with the scent of cigarette smoke. Damn, even your body recognized him so well that the way his fingertips dig on your skin flooded your mind with memories from the past.

"Peña." You mutter through gritted teeth, not bothering to turn your head towards him.

"It's agent Peña to you, sweetheart." He snarls, completely blowing off anyone that would try to get in his way to lug you outside.

A new, fueled up rage crept up your spine while he harshly pulls you to te entrance, right were you see the colonel's target going in.

"Let go of me, mierda!" You struggle against him, not wanting to actually put on a fight but just make him reason. "I have a fucking job to do, so let go of me or..."

"Or what?" Javier spins you around carelessly, leaving your face so close to his that your breaths merged with each other's, chest pressed against your own as he keeps you still, his hands gripping you so hard that it would certainly leave bruises.

"I need to call Carrillo. I'm working, even if you don't believe it." You tell him, letting your racing heartbeat start to settle.

The man's eyes were dark, covered by a shadow of anger that matched his stern expression. He was always handsome, but whenever he'd get mad, Javi was hot. Although it was unusual for you to see him like this, him being always attentive and careful, though still very passionate. He would never explode, not even when the stress and tension became too much to handle. But then, you realize...

"No way..." you scoff, keeping direct eye contact. "You're jealous, aren't you?"

His reaction is immediate, turning your body again and flushing your face against the trunk of his jeep Cherokee, bending you over the car. You gasp audibly, feeling the cold metal under your cheek and his body towering upon you while he holds you down by the back of your neck. Javier's lips brush the top of your ear when he leans down to you.

"The fuck do I need to be jealous about, cariño?" He whispers lowly, his hot breath giving you goosebumps and making your knees tremble. "Eres mía, you've always been."

Ah, fuck.

Despite all the shit that you went through with him, the effect he had on you remained the same. No matter what, the agent was aware of it, conscious of how you'd always melt under his touch, he just knew all your sweet spots by core memory and what'll have you squirming underneath him. Yeah, even if your mind tried it's best to erase Peña, your body would always betray you.

"You lost your chance." You mutter in a bittersweet tone. "Now get the hell off me so I can finish my task."

He doesn't instantly let go, but eventually loosens the grip on your nape. Though right when you thought he'd actually let you free, there's a cold metallic sensation brushing on your wrist and you suddenly can't move your arms from your back. The motherfucker had just cuffed you.

"Malparido, hijo de..." You ramble, straightening your back to glance at him in exasperation.

"Don't move." He growls, opening the driver's door and taking his radio out. The agent starts to talk through it, but you're way too outraged as to pay any attention, your vision going red when you catch your name, the words 'Carrillo', 'sicario' and the place were you're at, figuring out that he's doing the part of the job that corresponded to you.

"You're sick, Peña." There's no reply to the snarky comment as he simply shoves you in the back of his truck, rather carefully, considering the situation.

You watch intently while he gets back on his seat, analyzing every detail about him. It wasn't anything special, you had seen him quite often at work after your fight, and nonetheless, now... Something seemed off.

Javier was wearing a red button shirt under his black leather jacket, from which he drew out a pack of cigs and a lighter. He appeared the same, however, you could sense the tension on his shoulders and back, the kind you'd help him deal with before, and it almost felt like he was holding back from doing something. Heck, you hated it. You completely despised arguing with him, being apart from the man almost made you physically unwell.

But that was the root of this whole problem. You were able to admit it; how much you liked him and didn't want anyone else. Him on the other hand, wasn't ready for all that. Although, despite him implying that he couldn't fully commit or correspond to your feelings... Right now, his actions were very contradicting.

Because Javier Peña never got jealous.

And yet, there he was.

Perhaps, if you spurred him on just enough and cornered him in a trap... Perhaps then, he'd be able to admit it. 

"So what now, agent?" You wonder, laying your back flat on the leather sit, feeling the coldness of the material on your exposed skin and trying to find a comfortable position. "You mind explaining yourself?"

He looks at you through the rear-view mirror, brows furrowed and jaw clenched. A challenging fire shines in your eyes when you lock glances with him. But he doesn't say anything, simply starting the car and getting the windows down before lighting up a cigarette.

"What about you, sweetheart?" He asks, the fag hanging from between his lips as he starts driving away from the club. "Care for elaborating on your actions?"

You snort, gaze diverting towards the window. "I was just killing time."

The streets of Medellin were loud and busy, specially on the weekends. But at the moment, the paths were dark and quiet, as if everyone knew that there was a storm coming and they had to stay out of the hood.

"So that's your idea of 'killing time'?" He comes again, tapping the cigar out his window to leave the ashes behind. "Letting random men grope you in those wrenched bars?" You grin, still defying him with your attitude. "And yet, I'm the slut..."

"You must certainly are, Peña." You reply condescendingly, watching the road. "When I was with you, that was it. No one else even crossed my mind. But then, you? How many other women did you have besides me?"

He grunts, taking a long drag without looking back in your direction. You recognize certain spots and locals, but none of them were anywhere close to your apartment. Instead of asking were he was taking you to, the idea you previously had lingers on your mind.

Red light.

"You know, ever since we... Well, ghosted each other. I've actually had tons of fun." His eyes darkened, but no matter all the warning signs he was sending with his body, you just couldn't hold back anymore, starting to play a game that might get out of control. "Actually, you know that guy working with the CIA? Balcázar?"

Javier looked so gorgeous while driving. His big hands over the lever and muscles flexing whenever he'd make sudden moves. Even now, tense as an arrow an white-knuckling the wheel at your words, he was the hottest man you'd seen.

"Shit, he’s good..." you purr, slightly arching your back so he'll get a better view of your breasts, barely contained in that tiny dress you were wearing. "I really miss him. Hated it when he went back to New York."

His stormy glare was on you, watching closely every single move you made. Your legs were briefly parted, just enough for him to peek a sight of your laced underwear. The agent's breathing became ragged and he had to try his best to stay concentrated.

"Careful, cariño." You hear him rasp out with a hint of danger. "You really don't want to go there."

Green light.

He puts the cigarette out and throws the tail away carelessly.

"Ay, Peña." Your voice goes an octave lower, licking your lips. "Don't act like you haven't been to every brothel in the city trying to fill in my spot."

The man huffs a laugh, shaking his head in disapproval. "I know what you're doing." You look at him through your lashes, faking innocence and confusion. "But if you really want me to say it, there hasn't been anyone else."

"Yeah, right..." That mocking tone was really getting on his nerves.

"Not even when we were together." Javi sulks out.

"Then why was it so difficult for you to be serious with me?" You question grimly. "Do you not like me?"

His eyes bore back into yours somberly, as if you'd just said the stupidest thing in the world despite the graveness in your voice and expression, lazily scanning you head to toe.

"Like you?" It sounded like he was struggling not to come off sardonic, cocking an eyebrow at you. "I can't believe you just asked me that."

You lean in towards him when he takes an unexpected turn, inhaling his particular scent mixed with the leather and smoke. Suddenly, he parks the car someplace dark and empty that resembled an abandoned gas station. Kind of creepy, but you recognized the area now. It was a neighborhood located a couple of blocks away from his apartment.

"Why?" You coo, taunting, patiently testing how much he'd spill. But Javier won't meet your glance, focused on the nothingness ahead of him.

"Because I can't even get my dick hard for any other women, for fucks sake!" He howls, rubbing his face with his palm, clearly pissed.

At first, you thought he must've been joking. But the way he said it came out so frustrated that it made it hard to believe he was lying. His bold statement gave you a rush of power, knowing that you had him in mind and body, the man that made every woman he acquainted feel like a schoolgirl crushing on a senior. You understood why he was so mad right now; it wasn't only cause he was jealous, but because he hated seeing that you could easily move on to the next man while he remained stuck.

Though it was a lie. You only responded to him and you wanted to prove him that. But Javier had to acknowledge the mistake he made.

"Perhaps you're just old." You teased, "Have you tried pills for that?"

His reaction was so unexpected that you had barely any time to process the circumstances. He got out the car and opened the passenger's seat, tugging at your arm to get you out the jeep apprehensively.

"Take a guess, sweetheart." He grits next to your ear, his chest pressed to your back.

"Fucking hell..." you mewl at the feeling of Javier's hard boner firm against your ass. His hands hold your waist for a second before manhandling you to the edge of the back passenger's seat, hunching down in front of you with both hands gently gripping the exposed flesh of your thighs and looking up at you with fiery eyes.

"If you want me to say it, fine." He bites, giving up. "I made a mistake. It was stupid." Then his tone denotes the way he's struggling to contain anger. "I can't bear it. Seeing you with other men... It drives me insane. I can't even think straight- shit, I almost blew a whole ass operation tonight just because I saw you dancing with that guy." You gulp, remembering how furious he was just a few moments ago. "But let's not fool ourselves, cariño. We both know you haven't slept with anyone else either."

How he figured that out was a mystery to you. Maybe he truly was a very good agent.

There isn't a retort in your behalf. What could you possibly say anyway? He had you figured out already, he always did.

Back in the day, when you first started working with him, Javier acted like a complete shithead. Him an Murphy would give you a hard time with the DEA, always getting in trouble, messing up your schedules and bribing confidential information out of you. That's how you grew closer to him. Peña used to invite you for dinner or beers as an apology, granted that he always looked forward to take you back to his apartment, of course. Except you had heard the rumors regarding his reputation, and that was a well in which you weren't particularly eager to fall in, specially since he was a coworker.

Yet, it was all in vain. How could you ever say no to him if he'd look at you with those sparkly, deep brown eyes that resembled a lost puppy? You fell for Javi's smug smirk, the groovy hair, plus that confident and bite-back attitude of his, knowing how it would eventually end. Even so, no one could really blame you. He acted different around you, people were able to tell, brighter, more open and honest.

"See, I'm sorry about what I said..." you start, but he cuts you off.

"Don't be. I deserved that shit." The man stands up, taking a bunch of keys from the pocket of his jeans and going to take off the cuffs. "You should feel sorry for all those poor guys you toyed with while thinking about me the whole time."

You stretch your arms and massage your wrists, unwilling to meet his intense gaze, conscious that you'd fall for his charm immediately. He worked smarter, grabbing your chin to raise your face towards him.

"Did you enjoy it?" He hissed, fingertips digging on your jaw with moderate force. "Having other men grab your ass while everyone watches? Teasing the hell out of me in the office with those obscenely tight skirts and talking to Murphy as if I wasn't right beside him?" Your tongue darts out to lick your lower lip, not breaking eye contact. "Answer me, corazón."

"Yes," you respond cockily, "I enjoyed it." His face swiftly sobered, a muscle feathering in his jaw. "But I didn't think it had any effect on you, so it felt like a waste of time and effort."

Javier laughs huskily, bending forward. You close your eyes, thinking he's going in for a kiss, but instead his lips go to rest on your jawline, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your neck and all the way down to the valley of your breasts. As of now, you're a panting mess, already turned on by his adamant behavior. The fact that you were finally getting to feel him like this after a month or so of completely ignoring each other... It felt divine.

Your tug at his shoulder as he keeps nibbling the sensitive skin. The agent knew your body better than anyone else ever could, he'd memorized all the spots that would have you moaning and squirming underneath him, which was the case just now.

"Javi..." you sigh, running your hand through his hair.

"You're such a fucking brat." He reflects, kneeling between your parted legs. "A month ago I was merely a ghost to you, a few minutes prior I was simply 'Peña'. But when my lips are on you I'm suddenly 'Javi'?" He boasts with a devilish grin. "How convenient..."

"Mmm..." he laughs gruffly at your loss of words, his fingers hooking your underwear beneath the dress and slowly pulling it down.

At this point you're so wet it's embarrassing. It was probably due to the lack of sex you've had recently, or perhaps you were really growing fond of this new phase of his and the idea of Javier being possessive over you.

"Don't you dare look away." He warns roughly, peeling the fabric off you with a tad of your help. "Keep your eyes on me. I'll only tell you this once."

You nod eagerly. "Javi, are we- are we going to do it here?" It wouldn't be a new thing, you've done similar stuff in the past, though never in such an open space, despite appearing deserted. "Your place is barely a few blocks away..." His lips graze the soft skin of your upper leg, the feeling of his mustache raising goosebumps on your body.

"Can't wait." He stated, voice tinted with lust whilst his palm caresses your calf. "Need you now."

Somehow that made the pit of your stomach feel warmer. The rush of excitement coming from that desire he had for you had gave a thrill of control, completely ignoring how he was the one in charge of this situation. Javier carefully slips your dress upwards, taking in every single reaction you had to his touch and cursing at the sight of your throbbing pussy. The heat of his breath against your exposed core only increased your arousal, seemingly encouraging him.

"Shit, this cunt really did miss me, huh?" You nod again, basking in the contact of his nose brushing your clit, sending shivers down your spine.

In spite of your low whimpers of need, he deliberately denied you of his touch were you most needed him, simply roaming his lips and fingers over your inner thighs and pubic bone. Desperate, you scratch his scalp softly, pulling a groan from him.

"Javi, please..." he was definitely going to make you beg for it, regardless of how much he wanted it too. 

"Did you let anyone else do this to you?"

"No." You breathe out.

"Good." His thumb suddenly falls on your clit, rubbing slow circles. You squeal from the spontaneousness of the action, squeezing your eyes shut for a second. "This is mine." Then he slides down his finger to slightly part your swollen lips, coating it with your slick. "All mine."

"Sí, Javi."

"That's right, corazón." He murmurs, slipping two digits into you. "I'm going to fuck you so good that you won't ever think about anyone else." He sets a pace pretty quickly, pumping his fingers in and out, curling them to hit all the right spots. "I'm the only man for you. Understand that?"

"Yes, shit-" you choke down a moan when he mildly pinches your nub. "You are."

He makes a satisfied noise before diving in your pussy, starting to lick and kiss your clit without pulling out his fingers, maintaining a relentless pace and rejoicing himself in the sounds he'd pull from you.

"Fuck, that's good..." you manage to say, knowing how he likes the praise, your hand messing up his hair.

Javier pulls away for a second, grabbing your thighs to part them further and place your legs over his shoulders eagerly, hungrily looking up at you. You arch your back, ever so responsive to him while struggling to maintain a hold of yourself.

"So pretty." He whispers, admiring how your chest goes up and down from your rag breathing, your face contorted by pleasure as his fingers disappear in your cunt, the squelching sounds of your pussy and the moans spilling from your lips making him painfully hard. "Toda mía."

Your legs were already shaking, your body being so sensitive and needy. Specially for him. Always for him. But it wasn't enough and you both knew that. Though before you can beg him for more, his mouth takes place were his digits used to be, eating you out as if you were his favorite meal, lapping you up kind of selfishly, almost like he did it for his own pleasure.

"Javi, that's-" you can't even form coherent sentences without being interrupted by your cries of pleasure. "Too fucking good."

His tongue is hot and soft between your folds, licking up your slit as he rubs tight circles on your clit, fucking you greedily and moaning graciously against your slickness. Also, the image of him between your legs was always a sight to see, adding to the pool of arousal. You start seeing white spots and the knot in your lower stomach starts to loosen as the orgasm approaches, gripping the leather seat as if your life depended on it. It's a good thing that he's holding you, cause in a matter of seconds your whole body starts to tremble and his name leaves your lips repeatedly.

"I can't- shit!" You pull his hair involuntarily and he groans in response, the sound vibrating through your core and pushing you to the edge. "I'm gonna..."

You can't even finish speaking before you're coming undone in his mouth, feeling the hot waves of satisfaction wash over you. He doesn't pull away until you're practically whining from the overstimulation, trying to regain composure as he licks you clean. When he does, his eyes peer at you, intoxicated with desire as he starts to stand on his feet, towering over you.

"I missed that sweet taste of yours." He licks his glistening lips and you wish he'd finally kiss you. "Can't get enough of it."

Your hands reach his belt, trying to unbuckle it, but he takes your wrists to stop you.

"What's wrong?" You question, genuinely confused.

"I'm taking you to my apartment. I'm doing this properly." He retorts. However, you're too turned on now to care about the place.

"Please Javi, let me do something for you." One thing that made him go stupidly insane for you was the way you were never coy when asking for his cock, looking up at him with pleading eyes. As if having him on your throat gratified you. "I need you."

He almost caved in. Almost.

"Stop that or I'll cuff you again." He grumbles, only making you smile.

"Do it. I don't need hands, I can always take you in my mou-" Javier flips your body abruptly, pressing your face against the seat, and you can hear the familiar sound of metal clipping in.

"Such a greedy slut." He fixes your dress, not without subtly smacking your ass beforehand.

"Mm, can I at least get my panties back?" You ask in defeat, turning to face him, but he was already shutting the door.

"No." He quickly starts the car as you settle on the back, catching a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror. Your cheeks were flushed and lips plump from biting them, eyes still sparkling from the high post-orgasm.

"Do you like me like this?" You wonder as he begins driving. "All fucked out, cuffed and ready for you to take?"

Peña doesn't answer immediately, not daring to look back at you but desperately wanting to do it.

"I do." He answers, eyes on the road. "I like you naked. And dressed too, specially with those pretty skirts. I like it when you tell me how your day was, or when you're reading quietly." His words make your heart flutter, blushing harder. "I like listening to your voice, and the way your gaze always seems interested whenever I talk about me. Shit, I even like you when you're ignoring me." You can almost hear his smile, if that made any sense. "I like you all the damn time, hermosa."

Honestly, you weren't expecting such a straightforward answer, finding yourself at loss of words. Nonetheless, you didn't need to say anything, cause sooner than expected you were being taken out of the truck, flashes of the building he resided in passed right in front of your eyes while he dragged you through the dark, silent halls.

"Javi..." despite having limited mobility, you lean towards him, whispering in his ear. "Please kiss me."

He laughs dryly at your plea and struggles to open the door. "You want that, huh? ¿Quieres que te bese?" Then he takes your arm to drag you in, closing the door behind him.

"Yes, mi amor. I missed you so fucking much." You stay close to him, your face nuzzled on the crook of his neck. His hand brushes the hair out of your face and he presses his lips to your temple.

"Hm, is that right?" He hums and you can feel it against your nose. "Didn't seem so."

You back off swiftly, keeping your eyes locked with his. "I'm sorry, Javier. I really am."

Something shifts in his gaze, a possessive, deep emotion takes over him and he decides to take you up on your previous proposition.

"Prove it." He commands, voice hoarse. "Show me how much you missed me." The idea of getting what you wanted pursed your lips in a mischievous smirk. "I'll kiss you afterwards if I'm convinced."

Instead of responding, you start peppering kisses all over his jaw and neck, going as far along his chest as the buttons of his shirt would allow you. He lazily unbuckles his belt and pants while you lower yourself to your knees in front of him, but doesn't bother to go any further. It was going to be difficult, though nothing you haven't done before, nearly forgetting the cuffs as you craved his taste.

You rub the side of your face on his stiff erection, feeling how hard and hot he was under the tight fabric of his jeans and a low groan scratches his throat. You mouth at it before taking the zip between your teeth and sliding it down, eyes peering up at him at the same time. Javier observes every move attentively, his cock twitching at the sight of your lust-drunken gaze, breath starting to become unsteady when you kiss and lick the head of his dick over the thin fabric of his boxers. You taste the precum throughout it, salty and good, before pulling down his underwear by lightly biting the elastic.

Your mouth waters at the view, jaw going slack even before taking him in your mouth. His girth slaps against his clothed belly, tip red and leaking, just as big as you remember. Shit, you really had missed him. Javier's hand tangles in your hair, running his fingers in between the locks lovingly. He gasps when you press your lips to the slit, kitten licking the top and starting to spread wet kisses all over his length, running your tongue along the shaft, his musky scent getting to your head quite fast. He loved how every time you were on your knees for him it felt like you adored him, as much as Javier did you.

And it was true. Knowing how good you made him feel satisfied your senses, every expression and single noise he'd make could turn you on and push you to edge so easily. The man was simply delightful.

“Fuck, sweetheart…” he sighs, caressing your cheekbone with his thumb when you finally suck him in. “That’s it, wrap those gorgeous lips around my cock. So pretty…”

He lets out a gruffly moan as you take him further, watching as he screws his eyes shut and throws his head back, the sound so divine that it immediately makes your pussy clench around nothing. Javier is thick. And it’s always so hard to get him all in your mouth, but this time you make a double effort. You run your tongue against the veins on the underside of his dick, enjoying the weight of it in you, the taste and the admirable sight of him coming undone while he tries his best not to start fucking your face without warning, laying his palms flat on the wall behind you.

“Shit- that’s…” he grumbles, head spinning from pleasure, unable to make up any thought or manifest anything into words. You start bobbing your head up and down his length, hollowing your cheeks to provide more warmth.

You’re dripping, feeling the slick run down your thighs and the ache becoming unbearable. You squeeze your legs together in order to release some of that need, letting out a whine that vibrates through him and makes his hips jolt into your mouth.

“Fucking hell…” Javier’s hand snakes to the back of your neck, massaging the soft skin. “Does it turn you on to get me off like this, hermosa?”

You hum in response and the feeling sends him to oblivion, letting out a coarse moan that shocks another wave of hotness between your legs.

“What a nasty girl you are.” He mumbles breathily, “My girl.” He’s practically shaking at this point, the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat and your nose pressed against his pubic bone.

Air wasn’t a necessity at the moment, your ears ringing and the corners of your eyes watering. He warned you he was close but you didn’t back out, letting him hold you for support. He gasps out a raspy ‘fuck’ when he releases, hips stuttering and back arching slightly as his cum hits your tongue. You pull apart just enough to lap at the tip while he rides it out, feeling him throb in your mouth while you savor him until he’s completely spent, soft moans barely audible.

You wait until he opens his eyes again, brown gaze meeting yours between shaky breaths. “Will you uncuff me now, agent?”

He huffs a laugh, tugging himself back in his jeans before helping you get up and taking the metal cuffs off. For a second, none of you say a thing, simply staring back at each other with a swirl of emotions between you. But then he says your name, merely a whisper that makes you crumble.

“Don’t do that, Peña.” You scold, turning your back to him and walking towards the couch, taking a seat and listening to the leather crack under your weight.

“What do you mean?” He turns to you, hands on his hips, pants unbuttoned and hair messy.

“When you say my name like you need me and give me those puppy-dog eyes, I actually believe that you want me for anything other than sex.” He seems disappointed, mostly on himself. “So can we just fuck and get this over with?”

“Is that what you think I…?” Javier shakes his head and follows your direction, but only observes from above. “It’s not like that.”

You take off the heels, your feet starting to hurt. “Then how is it?”

His hand goes to your chin, urging you to look up at him. “I’m not good with this… I screwed up back in Texas and I did it again with you.” You gulp, your hands tightly gripping your knees. “I don’t know how to handle this sort of things, and it’s been a while since I felt like this for anyone…”

He takes the jacket off and sits on the edge of his coffee table in front of the sofa, cupping your face in his hands.

“All I know is that every time we’re together, nothing else matters. Things feel right. But when you’re not with me… Shit. Life becomes insufrible. I can’t sleep, can’t think, fuck, I can’t even have sex!” He looks genuinely irritated. “Everything’s about you when you’re away. And I can’t tolerate to see you with anyone else. It’s like someone just took a shot at me.”

You inhale sharply, taking his hand in yours without breaking eye contact. “Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve came back to you.”

“Precisely. I tried not to be selfish and let you go, but I can’t. It hurts too much.” He pouts, as if the mere thought made him sick. “And you deserve better.”

Inevitably, you roll your eyes. “Don’t bullshit me, Peña.” He furrows his brows at your reply, his palm falling from your cheek to his lap. “That’s crap! You think you know what’s best for me?”

“Well shit, I’m sorry for trying to look out for you.” Javier snarls back.

“I don’t need you to do that, you idiot.” You grab his jaw, taking him by surprise. “I know what I want and I was straightforward about it,” His heart starts thumping against his ribs. “So, if you want me, take me. Cause if you don’t… Someone else might.”

Your statement stirs his pot and his expression shifts. “Fuck no. You’re mine and I’m yours. That’s how this is going to work.”

“Yeah?” He lets out a throaty growl and leans down towards you.

“Yeah.” His mustache tickles your upper lip when he crashes his lips to yours and you whine into his mouth.

It was desperate and demanding, ripping all the emotions from you. Javier tasted like cigarettes, a hint of mint and of you. And you tasted like tequila, honey and of him. His cologne was a little faded, but you could still smell it.

“Say you’re mine, corazón.” He mumbles when he pulls back for air, forehead pressed to yours. “I don’t care if you’re lying, I need to hear it.”

You take him by the collar of his shirt so that he’s sitting down next to you, snaking your hand to press the palm against his bare chest.

“Soy tuya, Javi.” You tell him, laying a small kiss to his lips. “I mean it.”

He smiles cheekily as he pulls you on top of him, spreading your knees to each side of his thighs, your dress slipping upwards. Javier tugs a strand of hair behind your ear and his fingers roam your face as if he wanted to memorize every edge of it by tact alone. His thumb sweeps over your bottom lip carefully, parting your lips briefly before going to kiss you again. This time he does it slowly, taking his time with your lips prior to sliding his tongue past your teeth and relishing on your taste, almost like he wanted to lose himself in you.

To him, the world meant nothing if you weren’t by his side. And now that you were here, he intended to make the most of it.

His hands are everywhere: your waist, hips, lower back and butt, grabbing every bit of your flesh that he could, keeping you close. So close that it almost seemed like he wished to merge into you. You made out for what it appeared to be hours, until the kisses got sloppier but never less passionate, and you started grinding against him. You hold his shoulders for support, creating that delicious friction between your naked cunt and his stiff boner tucked in his pants. He jolts his hips up, making you release a whimper in his mouth.

He backed off, his lips now scrape your jawline, neck and collarbones. You arch your back when his hand slithers to pull down the zipper of your dress, granting him a better view of your tits close to his face.

“My room?” He asks, biting your earlobe mildly.

“Thought you’d never ask.”

Javi carries you to the bedroom with your legs wrapped around his waist, still finding a way to keep his lips on you in the meantime. Clothes disappear in the blink of an eye and you sit at the end of the sheets to help him take off his pants, kissing his abdomen, your dress now discarded somewhere on the floor.

“Eres preciosa.” The way he says it makes you blush, skin burning under his chocolate gaze. “I’m all yours, mi amor.”

You bring his face close to yours, infatuated with his beauty. “All mine…”

“Yes, corazón.”

You lay down on the mattress, Javier starting to play with your hard nipples, nibbling at them, sucking and kissing with his attention focused on all your reactions. You’re so aroused that you’re quite literally dripping onto his sheets, legs trembling from every light stimulation and skin scorching from desire, already spurred on by the make out and giving him head.

“Please, Javi… I- need you inside.”

He wastes no time to compel, maneuvering a hand to your lower back and aligning himself to your entrance, keeping your legs spread. You feel him inside, splitting you open with no previous warning and the tight grip of your cunt feels like homecoming to him. You hold your breath until he bottoms out, enjoying the sweet stretch he provided. Then your whole body quivers, a sheen layer of sweat covering both his golden skin and yours, a couple of curly locks sticking to his temples from it.

You watch him from below through hooded eyes, every inch of him inside you making you feel so full and complete, the outline of his fingers dig in your waist to keep you angled. You bear down on his cock, enveloping him in the warm, welcoming grasp of your body. He holds your hand above your head and leans down to kiss you again, drowning his own moans in your mouth as he draws out slowly to set a pace with his hips, the wet sounds of you pussy and skin clapping against skin sending a thrill of excitement down his spine.

You get it then, as he pours out all sentiment into you, overcome by passion. He is yours. Even though he just said it, only now does it become evident to you. This is Javier’s way of proving it.

He grabs one of your thighs and lifts your knee to the crook of his elbow, the new angle spreading you further open and allowing him to hit deeper. The impact of his tip hitting every right spot relentlessly forces you to break apart from his lips, your head thrown back into his pillows while practically screaming for more, his face nuzzled in your chest as he melts into you.

“Shit baby, I won’t last.” He warns, sinking his teeth to leave a mark between your breasts. You can feel it too, hot shots of ecstasy creeping up the pit of your stomach every time his cock jumps inside you.

You tug at his hair, a strangled moan escaping his lips. “Do it in me- Please, fill me up.”

Your request sends him right to the edge, his thrusts becoming careless as he starts grinding into you, Javi’s fingers quickly finding your swollen clit. The sole touch made you writhe and reach your high in absolute bliss, clenching your walls around him and crying out from raw pleasure. He fucks you through it, overwhelmed by the sensation. You feel dizzy, barely conscious when he finds his own release, your name spilling from his lips like it was the only word he knew, coming in warm spurts inside you. His spend is dripping from your pussy and thighs when he pulls out and sits up to admire the absolute mess he just made of you.

“Well…” he says, guiding his finger to push his seed back into you, making you whine from the overstimulation. “Hope that made it clear.”

You smile, every muscle in your body weeping from exhaustion. “Yeah… I’ll have to make you jealous more often.”

He groans in annoyance and you pull him back on top of you, spreading tender kisses all over his face, laughing in the meantime.

“Not funny.” He grumbles, despite the grin forming on his lips. Javier rolls to your side, coming to lay down next to you and immediately holding you against his sturdy chest, wrapping his arms around your waist to spoon you. “Stay with me.”

His plead is barely a murmur that filters through your ears and you’re too tired to figure out what those words actually mean. You simply let your eyelids drop and retort with a hardly audible ‘always’.

[redcherrykook]

── ˙✧°📷 TORN PICTURES AND FROZEN LENSES 1

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College Photography Teacher!Jungkook x Student!Reader

27 year old, stupidly handsome asshole teacher Mr. Jeon has absolutely no human decency, he believes your victim complex is what keeps you from ever achieving anything, letting people use you as a bridge. When something unexpected happens, the ice starts to melt as a foreign word called "empathy" enters his egocentric lense. Maybe he will finally manage to teach you a lesson now, since you keep failing his class.

(Mini series)- Episode one!

Song recommendation: bloodline- ariana grande

Content: Cold, mean, distant, unprofessional Jungkook, hurt, stubborn reader, enemies to lovers, lowkey dramatic, accident happens, mutually beneficial relationship (emotionally), Jk learns a lot from her, Jk is mean but has a soft spot for reader (eventually), 6 year age gap, Reader is from a struggling background, Jk kind of rescues her, happy ending, angst at first, fluff, smut, comedy/crack, bickering, college setting, brief hospital setting

Warnings: swearing, name-calling,mentions of an accident involving a biker, mentions of hospital, really mean Jungkook, i promise he gets sweet, mentions of trauma and abuse (non detailed), mental health struggles (semi detailed), arguments

Notes: Hey lovelies! This is my first time on tumblr. pls be nice! leave a comment if you like, feel free to go to my ask! to request drabbles of this couple

────୨ৎ────

A picture speaks more than a thousand words, so do eyes

At least when 26 pairs of them stare at you for being late, again. To be precise, for the 5th time in a row.

"Miss Y/n? what a surprise" Mr. Jeon stares through his glasses, direct and monotone as usual.

Bowing, you try to sit down at your desk that´s next to the door. "What is it this time? Couldn´t find your pens?" A almost routine like greeting from your teacher when you show up to class late. He tries to guess your reasoning each and every time, while increasingly mocking you. Just last week, when you showed up in a stained Shirt, he asked if you had to wash your clothes first before coming to class. You bet he found that hilarious.

On this day, his creativity seemingly died down, while his sarcasm certainly did not. "No sir, simply could not catch the bus. I apologize" you shake your head. Turning back to the Presentation behind him, wordlessly he resumes the lesson.

So likewise, you sit there. Waiting for it to be over. Photography has never been your strong suit but as a performing arts major, you needed this class to pass.

Not that you ever passed his class before, not in your first semester and certainly not in this second one.

"I will hand back your portfolios for the midterm preparations. I´m far too busy to be disappointed with them, although there are a few that gave me nightmares" his steps are small but powerful as he walks around the classroom, head pointed to the floor, his fluffy brown hair making it hard to read his face. It was blank, no one needed to see it to know. With his arms folded across his chest, he stands still.

If any other teacher had joked about having nightmares from awful projects, the class would have bursted into laughter and groans. In mister Jeon´s class, it remains silent, because for him, it´s not a joke.

Grabbing the pile of folders on his desk, he parades around the classroom, silently throwing folders down on the desk of the student it belongs to. Occasionally, a sigh of relief can be heard from your classmates.

When he reaches your desk, he slams the folder down, scoffing with his belittling smirk. It´s rare to see his face outside of his blank expression or unamused scoff, but when it does change, it is never positive.

Failed, repeatedly.

For one, because you prioritized other classes, far more important ones. Staying up until ungodly hours in the night to research for your English literature class and at the same time, trying to recall the notes for your practical music exam took a lot out of you. On second viewing, because your shitty 3 year old camera is barely holding on and you have no sense of stylistic layout or skill for settings and atmospheres. Not in pictures, at least.

Like you said, photography has never been your strong suit.

The bell finally releases you from the horrible strings of mr. Jeons depressing class, that is until his stern voice stops you from actually leaving.

"I have never had a student as careless as you" his scoff is as belittling as his eyes that look down at you. Without having to say it, they tell you how highly he thinks of himself, how lowly he thinks of you. Mr. Jeon has never been nice, too straight forward, never showing understanding for any misdemeanor. Handed the assignment in 5 minutes late? He would not dare grade it, even touch it. If you had worked tirelessly? , too bad. Ignoring the evidence of eyebags and puffy faces, he believes everyone simply lacks discipline.

"You show up late every time, fail every single exam, barely pass any group participation. Do you need this class for credits? I would drop out and take something that doesn´t require thinking, like theater. You have no chance of passing here" The words fall off his tongue naturally, so do the last footsteps of students leaving the class.

"I do not understand sir, why this concerns you at all. You have no consideration or awareness of my circumstances, I would expect some empathy from someone who´s job it is to interact with people" Honesty is not owned by him, for once, you decide to not let people treat you as if you were below them.

Once again, a scoff paints his lips as he steps closer, his eyebrows furrowing ever so slightly like he is taken by surprise from the sudden change of heart you seemingly underwent. Maybe it is just that no one has ever tried to talk back to him, knowing it leads practically nowhere. You know that as well, but the need to try and scream for the smallest drop of understanding, maybe even reassurance overcomes you with the sudden confrontation.

"Understanding? I think you are the one that needs to understand. Grow up, the world isn´t made to adapt and cradle you" It´s now your turn to scoff, your head shaking with a laugh of disbelief.

"That is exactly what I meant. The way my life is, I am well aware, mr. Jeon, that the world does not give a fuck about its people. Maybe, just maybe you know" you pause, searching his face for reaction as the frustration boils up, begging to be led out. As expected, it reads nothing. "You could try to see things apart from yourself, not everyone lives a life like yours"

"Oh my god, you poor little thing hm? What is it, lost your Phone? Got broken up with? People like you will find anything, anything in order to avert the blame. Its so-" he stops, his eyes darkening, the tattooed hand slips out of his pocket to swipe right through his hair. In a whisper of disgust, he resumes "...pathetic"

As a means to shield yourself from the way he spits out his words, your voice raises.

"Lost my home among other things, that good enough?" The words leave your mouth hurriedly, while wishing to be met with a soft smile. Stupidly enough, you know that´s very far from the reality that will weigh down on you in a matter of seconds. According to him, you are delusional anyways

The secret of yours that you had kept so warmly, so safely deep down in your mind had crept its way out your mouth, betraying you shamelessly. Not as shameless as the blatant lack of sympathy from the male stood in front of you.

" Good enough? Everyone has some shit they went through. You´re simply a loser, a lonely loser who cannot get over themselves. Get some help kid if you can´t do things for yourself but stop expecting people to let everything slide because of your helplessness. This huge victim complex of yours is infuriating. Did you expect me to cry and say oh what a cruel world, you poor little girl, i will let you pass my class?" Relentlessly he rants, with every word the sound of a distant laughter in your mind grows.

Regret.

Every second that passes he manages to give you further proof that you were never to find a spot in people's uselessly stern hearts.

Stammering to leave, the only words you manage to utter are "You´re heartless" mustering the courage to look at him is as far gone as your belief in his existence of ability to care.

Out, you want out of this wall tightening lecture hall that´s suffocating you with the strong hands of his stern voice.

"Good thing I don´t rely on the validation of others. I´m suspending you from this class to save you some work you would not do anyways" he turns sharply, walking back to his desk.

Parallel to him, you storm out of the University. Anywhere, anywhere is better right now.

Clouded by the tears of your resurfacing past you run along the streets. History repeats itself, the cycle of trust and naitivity is your biggest weakness.

Giving a way a piece of you for someone to keep safe, for someone to listen to, to care,

It has never worked before.

Stupid.

On and on unsure at this point if you were running from his words or ones of your own mind. They laugh at you, telling you their "I told you so"

Being powered simply by fear, and really, only fear, is far from enough to keep running, but you can´t stop. You can´t see either. Apparently, neither can the biker that runs into you, knocking you cold to the ground.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

"She really did not show up, expected, Good." he mumbles to himself while sorting the material on his desk. The small cubicle like space in the teachers workroom is decorated with photographs of his very own camera. Simple, organized, plain.

"Who did not?" Mrs. Park´s curious voice rings next to him, as his fellow art subject teacher, they share most of their students.

Nosy, he thinks.

"Lee Y/n. I suspended her recently and I-"

"You mean the girl from the accident?" casually she mentions it.

The cut off on the other hand, is sharp and unexpected. Jungkook is shocked for one, because someone interrupted him and two, because of the mention of you in an accident.

"Excuse me, an accident?" mentally cursing at himself for appearing to show interest in the situation, he diverts his attention to the teacher next to him. It must be a misunderstanding.

"Jungkook with all due respect how did you think a girl lying in the hospital for the past three days is going to show up to your class? You and your high expectations" She shakes her head, having completely misjudged the situation. Surprisingly, that is not his priority.

"Three days? How come I have not heard of this? How unreliable" He scoffs, old habits die hard, certainly for Jeon Jungkook.

Mrs. Park hums, reluctantly whispering "Probably because people are.. speculating. She has lots of problems , if you understand what im trying to say" it is subtle, fleeting, but her eyes glance up at him with the raise of an eyebrow

It flashes to Jungkooks as briefly as his coworkers judgemental eyes. His mind goes on to remember his conversation, well, argument with that stupidly helpless student of his.

Three days ago.

Mentally, he shakes his head.

Bullshit.

Even if she tried something, he isn´t to blame.

Right?

"Anyways, I think she is in Incheon hospital now. I might visit her later, she used to be in my literature course" Mrs. Park voice fades out as she stands up to leave.

Doumbfounded he sits there, tied to the chair by the revelation that he might have sent someone to a hospital.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

I can not believe I´m driving to the fucking hospital. He curses at himself while punching in the address of Incheon hospital onto his phone. It´s okay Jungkook, you´re doing this for YOUR sanity. Has nothing to do with that idiot. The words keep reassuring him of his selfishness, maybe trying to convince him that what he is feeling is not empathy, no, it is just to soothe his mind.

Why was he anxious in the first place? Not like it would make a change.

And so, 25 minutes of staring blankly at the road commence.

Blankly, because he needed to focus.

Blankly because he was not willing to face the possibilties his thoughts hold at the moment.

When he finally arrives, the huge metal doors welcome him in.

Straight to the receptionist he goes, asking for your room, providing proof of acquaintance with the patient.

What a hassle it was to gather everything, he remembers

And yet it does not stop him from heading up to the second floor.

Having just woken up from your second nap of the day, you audibly groan when the door opens, expecting to see a nurse.

"What the fuck" staring at your asshole photography teacher that is, somehow, in your hospital room.

"Good afternoon to you as well" he replies, as always, far removed from any and all emotion.

"Am I having a nightmare?" Questioning the validity of this surely odd situation, you sit up, combing through your hair. He Sighs, removing his coat and sitting at the chair across from your hospital bed. He would never dare to think he should ask if you even find it tolerable he is there.

He wants to speak to you, so he will.

"No, unfortunately not" Without knowing what to say further, because frankly he does not even know why he came here, he remains silent.

"Did you seriously come here? For what, to tell me to go to school because everyone has accidents and i need to get over myself?" The bitterness of your words match the usual one of his own, tainted ones. However this time, his eyes shift briefly.

Worry.

You think, at least.

"I get it, I was an asshole. Don´t tell me you jumped in front of a biker because of it" the strong, decorated hand of his makes it´s way to rub against his forehead as his voice comes out in a low groan of frustration. No need to sugarcoat, this is all he needed to know from you. Right?

Deciding to use it for a little revenge, you leave his semi question uncommented.

"Came here to apologize? Soothe that non existent conscious of yours, mr. Jeon?" his eyes dart up to meet yours, is it as though he really believes his words may have been the cause.

Regret, maybe. If he is capable of such.

"Fuck seriously? Yes, okay. I came here because" he stops, his tongue pressing the inside of his cheeks as he looks out into the window. The words leave his mouth without him even knowing that prior to hearing it out loud, that is what he felt.

"because I got worried that I made someone try to..." he cannot bring himself to finish that sentence.

"Is that really what people are saying? God that´s awful how am I supposed to go back to College with this being my reputation" small, barely audible you chuckle.

"Ah, no. Well.. partially i guess. I ran out after the hatred you threw at me and unlucky me, your so called cruel world strikes again" At the quoting of his words you make a mockery out of his monotone voice, the absurdity of this conversation still not catching up to you.

"Don´t worry, if that is even possible for you, I will just get over my accident" With an annoyed laugh, Jungkook stands up to stand in front of your hospital bed directly, hands in his slack pockets ever so casually but somehow, dominantly.

"I get it you idiot, I was an awful guy that day, my god give me a break. I came here, all the way here to fucking try and talk to you, give me a chance" his eyes look down at you, bored, plain. His mouth betraying him once more, spilling the unknown truth from his plump pierced lips.

"You sure have a way of asking for things. I want you out quick so, make it fast will you mr, Jeon" your reply makes him tilt his head to the side quickly, muttering a finally under his breath.

"I decided to not suspend you. And I´m deciding that maybe, you should tell me your circumstances. I´m not going to be held accountable if you try some shit"

This is about him, of course.

Just now he's taking an actual look at you, trying to decipher how hurt you really are, he would never bother to ask though.

The bruises on your arms become visibile to him, looking them up and down with tightly pressed eyebrows. They look older, some of them appear fresh.

Is she being hurt? his mind wanders

A snort from you makes him snap out of his thoughts "What? So you can laugh at it?"

He groans in response, "If you stopped being so stubborn and listened to me maybe you would know why. I´m taking your advice god damn it, I´m trying to build understanding" both hands are now running through his longer hair, the frustration of the wall you build up almost making him give up. Deep down, he knows he can´t blame you. The consequences of his own actions are catching up to him slowly, just as the realization of his heart softening ever so slightly does.

Silence fills the room, being the loudest sound to present itself.

"Fine" you roll your eyes at him. Unlike him, you want to show some grace, show him that yeah, it is possible to go through shit and need help. Sometimes people need to be ripped out of their tunnel vision egocentric world to understand their flaws. At the same time, you worry your good heart will once again only lead you too give more than you should be.

"Took you long enough" he remarks snarkily

"Nevermind then"

"Oh my god"

You laugh at his response, making eye contact with him as he laughs too. Small that is, before catching himself doing so. Still, it made a smile try to creep up your lips at the unfamiliar sound.

"That was a first" as if you´d pass up a chance to embarrass him.

"Don´t mention it" returning to his habits as always, the stern teacher voice is perfectly matching his lurking stance. ´´You´re below me´´ practically radiating off of him. What a shame, you had just begun to find him pleasant.

"Okay so, summary: Was admitted into our shitty foster system, got a whole bunch of friendship trauma, had to run away from said foster horror house and am now basically homeless in a women´s shelter. Oh and before you ask, I have a scholarship. I may be poor but I am not a criminal" the hands up in a surrendering pose make up for the awkwardly tense situation after having revealed something so personal to your photography teacher. For the second time. Right now, it´s impossible to tell what he is thinking.

Nodding he starts off his sentence,

"you were right that is a lot. Fuck, now i get why you called me a heartless asshole. Had no idea a twenty-one year old can already live that much shit. I swear, I was convinced you were bullshitting because you just did not care about my class" his rambling turns into muttering when he makes his way back to sit down on the chair, the usually bored eyes of his look softer now, while his words are as insensitive as they have always been.

"You are meaning to tell me that outburst you had on me was because you were pressed i didn´t take your class seriously? I just suck at photography, but i tried" in a subconscious motion your hand clutches your chest melodramatically, a slight smirk tugging on the side of Jungkook´s mouth.

"I know you suck, saw all of those awful collages. I did mean some things I said, someone needs to teach you how to grit your teeth and stand up for yourself, would have taken you seriously much sooner" His deep brown eyes roll with the memory of your conversation, sighing deeply he shakes his head.

Oddly enough, his truthful joke about your inability for photography makes your heart a little warmer. The belittling presence of his turning into a much closer, normal one. While the distance of his emotions is undeniable, the closeness of his growing interest in your life is as well. His mind is occupied with your conversation, unable to focus on his only mission, that is to protect who he is. The mask slips but really, does he still feel like wearing it?

"If that is what you tried to express someone needs to teach you how to empathize and communicate with people, mr. Jeon"

He wants to leave the mask off for just a little longer

"Jungkook" his first name slips out of his lips seamlessly, in the heat of the moment, lost in the fact that for some reason, he wants to understand you. Not in a suggestion, he´s still Jungkook, no is not an option if he set his mind to it. He´s demanding you to adapt to him

"What?"

"Call me Jungkook. We have been far from professional anyways. Calling me mister and all that formal shit makes it weird" his face scrunches up briefly, the embarrassment of acting more like a highschool bully than a teacher is slowly catching up to him.

You can´t help but laugh softly at this whole mess. In a hospital, constantly fighting while simultaneously trauma unpacking with your heartless, maybe not so heartless after all photography teacher who now wants you to call him by his first name.

Cruel world, as he puts it.

"Sure, Jungkook" his name leaves your lips in way so naturally it makes him jump inside.

What the fuck?

"I guess we could learn a lot from each other then, idiot" never failing to remind you of his stance on your personality, the sound echos in the room when his eyes meet yours,

but it is not his eyes that matter in his moment, they have returned to their stern nature long ago,

It is the fact that he softened his voice, as if he was afraid to let you in his mind. As if it was only possible for him to let one small spot of his soften at a time,

While you were just as afraid,

"Yeah. Deal?"

He naturally irritated face showing up to greet you once more

"Seriously? What are you, 12?"

"With the way you're acting i should be asking you that"

Unamused, he manages to mutter out

"Deal"

It's like the nurse had waited for you to be done before entering the room, informing you that visitor time is up and Jungkook needs to leave. Your eyes dart to his as he puts on the coat he had hung up previously, thanking the nurse before shifting his body slightly to hover over your sitting form.

"See you in class then" with that, he leaves you to rethink everything that had happend the past days. More over, he leaves you wondering just how honest he was about the little deal you guys made.

[f1girliefics]

Blind-Date

Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: You go on a date which doesn’t go as planned.

The asshole was late.

Your friend said that your blind date for tonight was an okay guy, when she set your date up. She never mentioned he was such an asshole.

He was now 20 minutes late and you felt like a fool.

Waiting for this man must not worth it.

And it really didn't.

Another 30 minutes passed, and he finally arrived. Jake, was his name.

And he was an absolute dick.

He was constantly on his phone and when he wasn't he was making mean comments about you.

You were about to tell the asshole off when someone stopped beside you two.

"Sorry, Mate." you looked up at the man. A very handsome man indeed. "She's mine." he simply said as if it was the easiest thing.

"What do you mean? She is your girl? Lucky you... she is boring af, Mate."

You saw the stranger's fist clench as if he was getting ready to hit Jake in the face and you wouldn't blame him.

"Thank you for tonight, Jake, but you and your limp cock can bother someone else from now on." you said.

Jake couldn't say a word, you were quick on your feet, and with your bag in one hand, you followed the handsome stranger.

"What a dick!" you said as your saviour stopped in front of you. "Thank you very much. I was about to blow his head off."

"So was I." he admitted and you gave him a smile.

"Thank you." you turned to leave when he made a noise and spoke up.

"Oh, I'm Lando, by the way. Nice to meet you."

"Hi Lando, my name is Y/N." he raised his hand and you took it, but instead of shaking it, he placed a kiss on your knuckles. 

Wow, well this was different.

“So, since you are mine, how about a drink?”

“I like the sound of that.” you smiled as he held your hand and walked away with you.

—

It was crazy to think how your relationship started. 

He saved you back then, and then many times after.

Lando Norris truly became the center of your world.

And as you cheered along with the team, happy to see him on yet another podium, you were reminded just how much you loved him.

.

[goldfades]

⊹ ࣪ ˖ 𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐲 (𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐞𝐬) | nh¹³

౨ৎ ─ summary | you and nico have only been dating for 6 months but both of you are convinced you've found the one, and a certain theory proves you right.

─ word count | 2k

─ warnings | mention of doubt in relationships (not you and nico's ofc) and slight angst when it comes to ex's, BUT OTHER THAN THAT, tooth-rotting fluff u might just get diabetes 🥹

─ taglist | @dancerbailey3 @valluvsu @daisysnhl @dasiysthings @iminlovewithtz11 @literatureluster @lvrzegras @lxvleyzoe @bowen-power @ru-kru @jackhughesily @hearts-for-luke

─ ev's notes | i know this is SOOOO short but i still hope y'all enjoy! i love nico sm :( hes adorable :(((

You and Nico had been dating for almost 6 months and it has been nothing less of perfection, you'd never thought you'd meet someone who fit every single one of your boxes. He was handsome, tall but also very sweet, empathetic and mature. Before Nico, you had only dated self-involved assholes who only cared about their wants and needs.

Now, with Nico, everything felt different. He listened to you attentively, remembered all the little details you shared, and always made an effort to understand your perspective. His presence was calming, always making sure you were okay and somehow always knowing if you weren't, even if you insisted you were. Everything with Nico was effortless, you didn't have to try - you just knew.

Despite the love that enveloped your relationship, you couldn't shake the nagging feeling of doubt that occasionally crept into your mind. It wasn't about Nico himself - he was everything you had ever wanted and more - but rather a lingering fear that somehow, someday, it might all come crashing down. Maybe it was the scars left behind by past boyfriends, the ghost of heartbreaks past whispering cautionary tales in your ear. Or maybe it was simply the vulnerability that comes with opening your heart to another person so completely, knowing that the possibility of pain exists alongside the promise of love.

Yet, with each passing day, Nico continued to prove himself worthy of your trust, erasing any doubts with his unwavering love. He showed you, time and time again, that he was different; that he was here to stay.

"And then I looked inside of the car, and it was what looked like a sixteen year old." Nico shook his head as he bit into his sandwich. "A sixteen year old with a damn Porsche, can you believe it?"

You chuckled at Nico's story, shaking your head in disbelief. "A sixteen-year-old with a Porsche? That's insane. How did can they even afford it?"

Nico laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I have no idea. Must be nice to have such generous parents. My first car was my dad's old car, it was a really old Toyota Camry." Nico took a bite of sandwich before continuing, "I crashed it 3 times before getting my new car."

"Three times?" you exclaimed, unable to hide your surprise. "And you're still alive to tell the tale?"

Nico chuckled, shaking his head. "Yeah, I wasn't the best driver back then. It's a miracle that Camry held up. I learned my lesson, though. Now I drive like a grandparent."

"Oh, I know." You teased as you finally got your sandwich from the waitress, smiling up at her. "Thank you."

"Can you imagine crashing a Porsche? Imagine how much you'd have to spend fixing it." Nico shook his head as he looked at you.

"Crashing a Porsche? I can't even imagine affording one in the first place, let alone fixing it after a crash. That's a whole different level of stress." You shook your head as you took a bite of your sandwich.

Nico chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "Exactly. I'd rather stick to my reliable car. Besides, I've grown attached to it over the years. It's got character."

"Oh no, they put tomatoes in my sandwich." You gagged as you put down your sandwich, sighing.

"Wait, you don't like tomatoes?" Nico looked back at you in disbelief. "How do you not like tomatoes?"

You made a face, scrunching up your nose at the offending tomato slice. "I've just never been a fan. The texture, the taste – it's just not my thing." You began taking the tomatoes out from the sandwich.

Nico laughed, reaching across the table to grab the tomato slice from your plate. "Well, lucky for you, I happen to love tomatoes. Problem solved." He winked, placing the tomato on his own plate.

You laughed along with Nico. "God, they're disgusting."

Nico smirked, his dimple showing as he held up the tomato slice like a trophy. "More for me, then. Tomatoes are so good, especially in a sandwich."

You shook your head, feigning disgust. As you watched him enjoy the tomato slice with happiness, you couldn't help but feel a warmth spread through your chest. He was so cute. "Well, you can take all the tomatoes you want from me."

Nico grinned, "oh, I will. Don't you worry."

"Oh wait." You watched him eat the tomato. "This is the Olive Theory!"

"What the hell is the Olive Theory?" Nico looked confused as you smiled, excited. "Aren't we talking about tomatoes?" He smiled at your excitement.

You laughed, nodding eagerly. "Yes, yes, but bear with me. So, you know how in 'How I Met Your Mother,' Marshall and Lily have the Olive Theory?"

Nico furrowed his brow, trying to recall. "Vaguely. Something about olives?"

"Exactly!" you exclaimed, delighted that he was playing along. "So, the theory goes that Marshall hates olives, but Lily loves them. Whenever they order food, Marshall always gives his olives to Lily, and it's this little gesture of love and compatibility. The idea is that if one person hates olives and the other loves them, it's a sign of compatibility because it means you complement each other."

Nico's eyes lit up with understanding. "Ohh, I see where you're going with this. So, you hate tomatoes, but I love them. And I happily take them from you. It's like our own little Olive Theory."

"Exactly!" you exclaimed, your heart swelling with affection for him.

Nico couldn't help but smile at you. You were so cute, he couldn't help but laugh at how excited you got. Nico's laughter filled the air, his smile reflecting the warmth in his heart. "You're adorable, you know that?"

You felt a rush of warmth at his words, a blush creeping up your cheeks. "Well, I learned from the best," you teased, unable to hide the smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

Nico reached across the table, his hand finding yours as he squeezed it gently. "I mean it though, you're amazing. You're adorable when you get all excited about these little things, even if I don't understand half of the references you make."

You chuckled, appreciating his honesty. "Well, that just means we have more opportunities for you to learn and for me to share all my references with you."

Nico's eyes sparkled with affection as he held your gaze. "Yeah and then I can teach you about hockey, it's perfect."

You smiled at Nico's suggestion. "I'd love that! Hockey lessons from the expert himself. Now people won't call me a puck bunny."

Nico grinned, his enthusiasm contagious. "You'll be a pro in no time. Maybe you could even join the team, who knows?"

"Maybe I'll even be captain."

Nico shook his head, "Nah that's kind of my job."

You laughed as you gazed at your boyfriend, a warm smile playing on your face. "Alright, Captain, I'll let you keep the title. But maybe I can be the team's official cheerleader?"

"Well you're already my cheerleader so that wouldn't work very well, would it?" Nico shrugged as you laughed and shook your head.

You couldn't help but laugh at Nico's response. "I guess you're right. Can't double up on roles, can we?"

Nico smirked, "No can do, princess. You're my lucky charm not the team's."

You nodded your head in faux understanding as you played along with Nico's words. "Right, right. And I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Good cus I need my good luck charm." Nico smiled, his eyes warm with affection as he squeezed your hand once again.

"And you'll always be mine." You replied, his words filled you with a warm, fuzzy feeling, and you squeezed his hand gently in return. As you gazed into each other's eyes, you knew that no matter what happens, one thing remained: your love and support.

-> make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated! <-

thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[angelwonie]

HEARTS ARE WON AT PRACTICE || jung jaehyun

PAIRING: football player!jaehyun x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 21.2k

GENRE(S): smut, fluff, enemies to friends to lovers

SUMMARY: jung jaehyun is an obnoxious, way too handsome footballer whom you have no intention of getting to know. at least until a series of coincidences forces you to spend time with him, and you realize there might be more to him than what meets the eye.

WARNINGS: smut [unprotected sex, praise, degradation, fingering, locker room sex, a little dumbification], jaehyun is hot, unfortunately

Getting hit in the head with a football definitely was not on your to-do list for today. 

It all happens so quickly. One minute you’re on your way home — walking down the path that coincidentally forces you to pass by the football field, side-eyeing the players whose egos have long ago surpassed whatever roof kept them in check before, and in the next a football shoots in your direction, hitting your head so hard you stumble a few steps backwards. It stings a little, but there’s no blood on your fingers when you retract them from your forehead, so you suppose it’s fine.  

You hear someone shout in the distance just then, the voice all too familiar even though you can’t make out the words he’s saying. And really, it doesn’t matter that much, either. What matters is that it’s him who just hit you in the head with a football, and the second you hear his voice it makes your heart stop. 

Jung Jaehyun. 

You could’ve recognized his voice from miles away. Not because you’re one of his pitiful fangirls, of course — there’s no way you’re associating yourself with the cheerleaders almost fainting when he enters the field to play. No, if it were up to you, you wouldn’t even know Jung Jaehyun exists. Unfortunately, though, you happen to be both his neighbor and have a best friend that fell head over heels in love with him last year. If your mom wasn’t gushing about how handsome Jaehyun was one day, Dahyun always made up for it. 

His voice shoots through the air again now, and this time, you look up. He’s far away, so you can’t hear him, only catch a glimpse of his red shirt, but after a second or two you come to realize he’s not even talking to you; he’s talking to his teammates. 

What an asshole, you think to yourself, almost scoffing as you look at him. Is he really so self-centered that he can’t apologize for kicking the ball into your fucking skull? Probably, if the fact that he rejected your friend without even looking in her direction is anything to go by. And though that happened almost a year ago, your friend still sometimes looks like she’s about to cry when you pass by the football field. At least you don’t have to listen to her rant about how sexy his thighs are anymore.

Shaking your head, you start walking again, now much more eager to get home than ever. 

You make it approximately ten steps before you hear his voice again, much closer than before. It’s soft, but deep — the kind of voice that makes girls fall to their knees — and unfortunately, also loud enough for your head to whip around instinctively. 

“Y/N, wait!” 

You stop walking and look at him. He’s still in his uniform, shirt clinging to his upper body and face glistening in sweat. The sun is high up in the sky, reflecting in his eyes as he looks at you, his uneven breath a sign that he’s been practicing for a long time. Not that it’s surprising — you’re certain that boy doesn’t have anything to his personality other than being a good football player. And being objectively handsome. His lips quirk up in a small smile when he sees you’ve halted your walk, but what catches your attention are his words. 

He said your name. 

It shouldn’t come as a surprise since you’ve lived close to each other for many years, but you’ve never spoken to him, and he hasn’t so much as looked in your direction before. Now he’s looking, though. And as much as you hate to admit it, you can see where all of those fangirls are coming from. His eyes rest on you softly, like a cheek pressed against a fluffy pillow, but he’s nowhere near absent-minded, that much is obvious from the small hint of worry in his gaze. Whether that is worry for you or his reputation as the best player on the team, you're not sure. 

You hear his breathing even out, and it makes you realize you’re still standing without moving, waiting for him to say something. 

“Are you okay?” he finally asks, pushing his wet hair back in a way that looks much more attractive than it needs to. “I really didn’t mean for it to hit you.”

“Maybe you should work on your aiming skills, then,” you tell him, watching as his face contorts into an offended expression. He looks half-mad, half-confused, with his eyes blinking down on you and jaw clenched just slightly. It makes you wonder whether anyone has ever told him to work on his aim before. Probably not. “I’m fine, though.”

You begin walking again, leaving Jaehyun behind. No other sounds than the weak wind reach your ears, and you wonder if he’s going back to the football field. Not that you really care. You’re just curious. 

It only takes another five seconds for you to find out. 

“Are you sure?” Jaehyun’s shoulder brushes over yours as he catches up to you. Caught off guard, you jump a little, and his lips spread in a smile — a full one this time, teeth on display and eyes crinkling. It’s the same smile he wears when his team wins a game, you realize, before you can stop your thoughts from running. “That you’re fine, I mean. I kicked it pretty hard.”

“Yes, I’m sure,” you roll your eyes in annoyance. Is this guy waiting for some confirmation that yes, he did kick it hard, and yes, it did hurt? Wasn’t that much obvious from how you almost fell flat on your face in front of the whole football team? “I’m alright, so you can just go back and finish your game.”

“We finished it already,” he pushes his hair away from his face again — why is he even doing that if it just falls back either way? — and walks in front of you to block you from walking any further. You glare at him, but either he doesn’t notice, or he ignores it completely. “Are you sure you’re okay? It looks like a bruise is forming here.” 

And before you can even react, he leans down so his face is on level with yours and brings his thumb to lightly trace above your brow, where the football hit you earlier. It didn’t ache at all before, but now it tingles where he touches you, like your skin setting on fire. Except it doesn’t hurt, it’s just… different. And unexpected. Really unexpected. That’s what you blame everything on as you keep on standing, not flinching away from his touch though you have no idea why. 

“Does it hurt?” 

His voice brings you back to reality, and you blink up at him in surprise. “No.” 

Cringing internally at how meek your voice sounds, you shake your head and take a step back, that warm feeling fading away from your face the moment his skin isn’t on yours anymore. 

“No, I said I’m fine already.” 

You sigh, picking up the walk again and scrunching your nose up when Jaehyun walks by your side. The last thing you need right now is some overconfident footballer to ruin your day. You can already feel the headache coming along. 

A few moments pass by in silence and you look over at the woods surrounding the path. Some flowers have started to bloom, filling the grass with colors. You catch a glimpse of Jaehyun looking at you, then following your gaze that rests on the flowers. Your eyebrows lift in surprise as he strays from the path and walks onto the grass, starting to pick flowers. He looks like he’s taking this very seriously, pondering for a second or two before he chooses a flower. You almost want to burst his bubble and tell him these flowers probably won’t impress the kind of girls he surrounds himself with, but you decide it’ll be funnier if he makes a fool out of himself later. 

He returns to the path like nothing happened, the small bouquet of flowers dangling in his hand. It’s only now that you notice you stopped walking to watch, so you speed up again, hoping to God he didn’t notice or get the wrong idea. 

“So,” he begins, and you feel like dying. This is going to be a long walk home. “You coming to the game on friday?”

You turn your head to the side and look at him. “No way. Football games are the most boring things in the world.”

It’s not a complete lie — you don’t like watching football at all, especially when all the players walk around with those looks on their face that make it obvious they think they’re better than everyone else. Like the one Jung Jaehyun is wearing right at this moment. 

“Even if the players are handsome?” 

You scoff at his shit-eating grin. If this is how he talks to every girl then you’ll have to take back what you said earlier — you have no idea where all those fangirls come from. Unless you only care about looks, there’s nothing to this guy at all. 

“If only they were,” you sigh overly dreamily, hoping it'll make him annoyed and he’ll shut up. 

Except he does the exact opposite. He starts laughing. It’s loud, strong — you suppose his confidence transfers to his laugh, too — and unfortunately for you, pleasant to listen to. But that’s just an observation, obviously. 

He chuckles for a solid thirty seconds before the laughter fades into a wide smile that settles on his features, eyes glimmering in the sunlight as he pushes you lightly. “You’re funny.”

“It wasn’t a joke.”

His grin only grows wider at your annoyed expression. “Sure it wasn’t.” 

You swear you would’ve punched him if it weren’t for the old lady passing by at that exact moment. Before you can nod your head in her direction, Jaehyun tells her ‘Good morning’ with a smile still plastered to his face. You turn around slightly, trying to figure out how Jaehyun knows that person, but it seems it’s only the lady living between him and your house. 

Shaking your head, you think to yourself that they’re probably relatives or something. Because if they aren’t, it would mean you’re acknowledging Jaehyun’s kindness to strangers, and you’re not really dying to do that at the moment.  

“Asshole,” you mumble to yourself, as if summing up the whole situation.

“By the way,” This time it’s you that starts the conversation, reminded of something you wanted to ask him. “You know Dahyun, right?”

You watch as his nose scrunches up in thought, lip pulled between his teeth. “Dahyun…” 

He looks like he’s got no clue who you’re talking about, so you help him out. 

“Short with blonde hair. Asked you out last year and you rejected her without even considering it. Does that ring a bell?” 

He lets go of his lip and rests his gaze on you. You can’t tell what he’s thinking, but the lack of guilt in his eyes angers you. Surely he understands Dahyun is your friend from the tone of your voice, so why isn’t he saying sorry? The least he could do now is apologize for acting like a complete jerk. He owes you that much, right? 

“Yeah, I guess,” he says finally, in a careless tone that annoys you even more. “What about it?”

What about it? Is he serious right now? 

“You’re a total dick, you know that? Who rejects someone without even knowing them?” you blurt out without thinking twice about it. 

The wind rustles Jaehyun’s hair as he raises a brow, and it falls in his eyes again. He doesn’t push it away this time. You’re looking at him intently, waiting for him to say something. Anything. You wonder if he’s going to apologize now that you confronted him, but something in his gaze tells you he’s not the type to admit he’s wrong. 

“Who asks someone out without knowing them?” he says finally and you open your mouth to retaliate, but he cuts you off.  “What was I supposed to do exactly? I mean, I’d never spoken to her in my life. Better to just say no instead of leading someone on, don’t you think?”

You open your mouth then close it again. You should probably say something. Argue with him. But he’s right, at least to some extent. You would’ve done the same, so you’re not exactly in any position to lecture him. He knows that — maybe he saw it in your expression — you can tell from how his lips form a smile yet again. And surprisingly, you don’t feel a strong urge to kick him when he walks closer to your side, his shoulder only a few centimeters from yours. 

“You’re still a dick,” you remind him, and he presses his lips out in a pout. 

“How is that fair?” 

You’re nearing both your houses now, the flowers and trees replaced by the neighborhood you’ve grown up in. You half-expect Jaehyun to leave the moment he spots his local friends that are sitting by the lawn they always play football on — you only know this because you can hear their shouting from your room whenever the window is open — but he only waves in their direction before turning his attention back to you as you speak. 

“How was that free kick in your last game fair?” 

You regret that last comment the moment Jaehyun’s pout turns into a proud smirk. “So you do come watch us play.” 

“My friend dragged me along,” you assure him quickly. A little too quickly. “And just so you know, that goal of yours was totally just luck.” 

You’ve reached your house now — his is only a couple steps further. You’re not sure whether you’re supposed to say goodbye or just walk away without paying him any attention. Does he consider you friends now? Probably not. He has plenty of those. Plus, you’re friends with a girl that hates him. He’s likely to prefer for you to leave without a word. Which you don’t mind, obviously. Even if your heart jumps all the way to your throat when he pats you on the shoulder with a smile.

“Right,” he mumbles with that annoying smirk on his face, and you roll your eyes, walking up to the front door. You don’t expect him to say anything else, but then he raises his voice to shout after you so loudly you’re sure half the neighborhood can hear him. “See you tomorrow, Y/N!”

And you open the door to your house only half-annoyed. 

—

“No way. There’s just no fucking way.”

“What is it?” Dahyun asks excitedly from the other end of the line. “What happened? Don’t tell me you caught your brother making out with some girl again.”

“No, it’s not that,” you blink violently, making sure that you’re seeing straight. Strings of questions are heard from where Dahyun is rambling into the phone, but you can’t focus on any of them. “I think Jung Jaehyun is talking to my mom right now.”

“What?” 

You can hear she’s confused, and truthfully, so are you. But it’s true — you’re almost home now, and there he is, Jung Jaehyun standing in your driveway, chatting with your mom like it’s the most normal thing ever. It’s not normal, though. You barely know the guy, and you definitely don’t like him, so what in the world is he doing outside your door? 

Dahyun asks a million questions again, and you sigh into the phone, at loss for anything to say. “I’ll call you back later, okay?” 

Then you hang up without waiting for an answer. She’s probably going to give you an earful for that later, but what you’re focused on right now is running up to your mom. 

Jaehyun is the one to notice you first, his pearly whites on display as he flashes you a smile. He’s not wearing his football attire, you notice, but plain jeans and a sleeveless shirt. You want to ask him why the hell he’s wearing a sleeveless shirt in the beginning of spring, but you suppose that would only urge him to imply you’re staring at his arms (which you’re not, obviously) and his ego really doesn’t need any more boosts. 

“Y/N, you’re here,” Jaehyun says and only then does your mom look in your direction, clapping her hands together in glee. 

“Yeah, I’m here,” you glare at the football player. “Because I’m supposed to be. May I ask what the hell you are doing on my front lawn?” 

“Y/N, language!” Your mom lightly slaps your shoulder, and you almost want to throw up when you see the sickly sweet apologetic smile she sends Jaehyun. Oh God, what if she has a crush on him? Would explain why she’s scolding you for wanting to know what an almost-stranger is doing at your doorstep. And what if Jaehyun actually likes older women, and that’s why he’s rejecting every girl at school? “Jaehyun here is being a sweetheart and helping me carry these groceries inside.”

Of course he is. You raise a brow in Jaehyun’s direction, but he only shrugs with a proud smile. What is he smiling for? Is this some sort of payback for you saying his aim is bad? Is he really that petty? Honestly, he seems like the type to do that. You guess that’s what you get for bruising his fragile ego. 

“Actually, Jaehyun, why don’t you come and have dinner with us? There’s more than enough food for everyone.” 

“What?” you laugh nervously at your mom’s words, sending her a pleading look. Nope. There’s no way you’re about to eat dinner with this guy. “Please, mom, I’m sure Jaehyun has practice—”

“I don’t, actually.” You’ve never wanted to punch a smirk off of someone’s face so badly before, that’s for sure. He’s doing it on purpose, that fucking asshole. It’s evident in the way his eyes light up in amusement as you glare at him angrily. “I’d love to join you for dinner.”

And that’s how you find yourself wanting to cry in your own living room, sitting around the dining table with Jung Jaehyun as you wait for your mother to finish making dinner. 

Your mom has the table set like it’s some kind of holiday (she probably thinks having a handsome guy in her house equals Christmas), with flowers in vases and candles and tons of side dishes that you don’t even know when she had the time to prepare. Now she’s scurrying around the kitchen, successfully rejecting Jaehyun’s every offer to help but almost kicking your brother when he takes a little too long leaving his room to clean the dishes. Double standards at their finest. 

Fortunately, she’s left you alone — though you think it’s because she wants you to entertain Jaehyun, so it’s not that much of a consolation. You’re just counting on the ground to swallow you up whole before he starts talking. 

“Okay, so,” Too late, you think to yourself as he opens his mouth. “What’s your favorite color?”

You scoff in laughter, looking at Jaehyun for the first time since you entered the house. “Why are you asking me that?”

“Because I’m trying to get to know you,” he shrugs. “That’s what friends do, right? Know each other.”

You narrow your eyes at him, watching as he rests his chin on his hand. The absurdity of it all makes you want to laugh. A little over 24 hours ago you hadn’t exchanged a word with Jung Jaehyun, and now he’s sitting in your living room, asking you questions about yourself. You have to admit you’re slightly taken aback — you didn’t expect him to suddenly become so interested in getting to know you, and you definitely didn’t take him for someone who puts effort into things like relations. 

“Who said I want to be your friend?”

He studies you for a moment, tilting his head to the side as his eyes rake over your face. It makes you feel exposed in a way — he has that type of stare that makes you feel flustered even though he’s not doing much, just looking. It’s the attention, you decide. How it feels like all of his attention is on you, that’s what’s making you so nervous right now. 

“You do,” he says finally, leaning forward so he’s all up in your face. “I can see it in your eyes.” 

All you can see, though, are his eyes mere inches from yours, his hot breath landing on your lips. You see his hair fall onto his forehead, and you almost feel an urge to push it back. This only lasts a second, though, before you’re pulling away, scooting farther away from him on your seat. Geez. Doesn’t this guy know what personal space is? 

You clear your throat and speak, thanking God that your voice doesn’t sound shaky. “Oh no, I think the disease is spreading. Not only is your aim bad, but your eyesight is, too.”

“My aim isn’t bad.”

You almost want to laugh at how he straightens his back, squaring his shoulders as if to prove a point. 

“Really? And that’s why you managed to kick a ball into my head when I was standing twenty meters away from the goal?” 

He leans forward on the table with his jaw clenched. “Look—” 

He’s cut off by your mom entering the living room, two plates full of food in her hands. She asks if anyone is willing to help her carry everything to the table, and Jaehyun volunteers, his stance faltering. You watch silently as they set the table, tapping your fingers against your thigh. When they finally sit down, Jaehyun next to you and your mom across from you, they both seem to be in a good mood, so you figure Jaehyun didn’t get very mad at your comment. 

Your mom urges Jaehyun to eat tons of meat, and then she rests her chin on her hand, smiling at him like he’s the most beautiful human being she’s ever seen. “So, Jaehyun, you play football, right? How long have you played for?”

“About… ten years, give or take,” he says it like it’s no big deal, but you can feel your eyes growing wide, and your mom’s gasp signalizes she’s having the same thoughts as you. All you cared about ten years ago was watching the latest show everyone was talking about. “Not that long compared to others trying to make the national team.” 

National team? Your eyes find their way to his on their own, and you hold back the shocked expression that is creeping up on you. There’s no way you’re letting him see you’re impressed. Instead, you offer him a roll of your eyes and a scoff. 

“Oh, great, you’re like one of those kids that never grew out of their professional footballer fantasy.” 

He grins. Something in his gaze tells you he didn’t buy your act. “It’s not a fantasy if you’re talented enough to make it.”

“Wow, aren’t you confident in yourself?” you ask mockingly. 

“Y/N,” your mom warns you, and you sigh, eating your food quietly. You can feel Jaehyun’s stare burning into you, but you don’t look up because he’s confusing and annoying, and you don’t want to look at him because it only makes you more confused and annoyed. Luckily, your mom only seems pleased with your silence. “Do you like the food, Jaehyun?”

“It’s delicious,” he flashes a bright smile. “Could I maybe have the recipe? I'd love for my mom to make this sometime.” 

You want to criticize him for sucking up to her, but the way your mom’s eyes light up at his words make you bite your tongue. 

“Why, of course, you can!” 

Jaehyun’s eyes meet yours as your mom fishes out a piece of paper and starts writing the ingredients on it. He’s still smiling. He doesn’t look proud of himself or anything. It’s just a genuine smile. That was nice of you, you want to tell him. You don’t. Instead, you hope he can see it in your eyes. Or maybe you’re hoping he doesn’t. You’re not sure. 

“Uh, why is he here?”

You’re reminded of your brother’s presence only as he walks into the room, sleeves of his shirt pushed up, signaling he was doing the dishes. He’s referring to Jaehyun and you’re thankful someone else thinks it’s awful he’s here right now — at least until your brother opens his mouth again. “Is he Y/N’s boyfriend?” 

“What? No!” You slam your hand on the table a little too hard, causing your mom and Jaehyun to jump in their seats. “Are you crazy? He’s just a neighbor. You know, he's one of those annoying guys that always play football late at night.” 

You can feel your mom’s reprimand coming along, but before she can fully open her mouth, your brother is turning to Jaehyun with awe in his eyes. 

“You are? That's so dope,” Your jaw drops at your brother’s response, Jaehyun’s quiet chuckle only barely reaching your ears. “You wouldn't mind teaching me a few tricks, right? I've seen you guys play and you're mad good.”

You scoff. What is this, some Jung Jaehyun fanclub? Faintly, you can hear him say ‘sure’ to your brother and the latter jumps in excitement like a little kid. Jaehyun’s eyes shimmer in the living room light when you look to the side to catch a glimpse of him, only for a moment wondering what’s going through his head. All you know about him is that he’s unpredictable and plays football, and for the first time, you feel like you want to know more. 

As your mom and Jaehyun clean the table, you usher your brother away (ignoring his whining about wanting to play football with ‘the sexy dude’) and put on your hoodie. It’s still cool outside in the evenings, and you’re certain your mom will force you to walk Jaehyun home even though he lives two minutes away. Your suspicions are confirmed as soon as she walks back into the living room with Jaehyun in tow, her eyes already telling you that if you don’t walk him home she’s going to disown you. 

Reluctantly, you lead him to the front door, not bothering to tie your shoes. He’s the first to reach the door, and he opens it for you, to which you mumble a small ‘thank you.’ It seems like you have a lot to thank him for today. Making your mom happy, putting your brother in a good mood, and now, holding the door open for you. You suppose it’s enough to make up for the football hitting your head. 

“Your mom is nice,” is the first thing he says as you walk alongside each other, slow steps that bring you closer to his house. “Very optimistic and supportive, it seems. It’s refreshing.” 

Your first thought is how you thought he was into her, but you feel a sting in your heart when you hear the faint yearning in his voice. He isn’t crushing on your mom, she’s just showing interest in what he’s doing and he likes that. You wonder if his parents are different. If they don’t support him. Maybe they think trying out for the national team is stupid? 

“Let me ask you a question,” you say and he nods. “Why do you reject every girl that asks you out?”

He raises a brow in surprise. “That’s a deep question for someone who said my aim is bad.”

“If I take it back, will you answer?”

He buries his hands in his pockets and walks backwards, so he can face you. It’s dark and you can barely see him, and it also doesn’t help that when he’s this close you have to crane your neck to look up at him. Tapping his chin, he acts as if he’s in deep thought. 

“I’ll think about it.”

You sigh, shivering as the cold wind hits your skin. 

“I’m sorry I said your aim is bad,” you say finally, resigned. “Happy?”

“Very.” 

He grins and for some unknown reason, you don’t feel as cold anymore. You shake off whatever feeling’s stirring up in your stomach — for a moment, it feels dangerously close to happiness and enjoying Jung Jaehyun’s company isn’t on your to-do list for today. You try walking faster to get this whole ‘walk Jaehyun home’ thing over with quicker, but he blocks you and you scoff. 

“I apologized,” you remind him. “Now answer my question.”

He shakes his head with a playful glint in his eyes. “I said I’d think about it, not that I’d answer it. I thought about it and I don’t want to.”

“You’re annoying.” 

“Thanks.”

A small smile settles on your features, one you realize you’ve been holding back for most of the day. You hope Jaehyun can’t see it in the dark — that would be embarrassing. Not only because you’re supposed to dislike him, but also because he’s a cocky little shit and he doesn’t need to know he’s actually an interesting person. At least you think he might be. Maybe. 

Slowly, you walk, now barely ten meters away from his house. You’re thinking of something to say when it starts raining. It’s one raindrop, then two, and suddenly it’s pouring. Not violently, just peacefully, water dripping down your face as you look up at the sky. It’s so pretty. He looks at you, you can feel his stare, and so you look at him, too. The smile doesn’t leave your face, and you’re sure he can see it now. He doesn’t comment on it, though, and for that, you’re thankful. 

You don’t know what it means just yet. Other than that you want to get to know him. Maybe. 

“It’s raining,” you say, and he stops walking, raising his eyebrows, as if to say you’re stating the obvious. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

“You like the rain?”

“You don’t?”

He thinks for a moment, eyes on you when you open your hand, letting the raindrops fall on your palm. Your hair is wet, he notices, and your clothes, too. You don’t seem to mind, though, and he thinks this might be the happiest he’s seen you all day. So rain is what makes you happy. He fights back the urge to laugh. He never would have taken you for someone this easy to please. Maybe you’re a little happier spending time with him than you let on. 

Maybe. He’s not sure, but maybe this uncertainty is exactly what draws him to you. No clear answers, no black on white, just his words and the words you choose to respond with. He likes it, he thinks. 

“I hate playing in the rain,” He finally responds. “It makes the field all slippery and wet. I prefer the sun.” 

You’re not surprised, he can tell from the look in your eyes. “Don’t you have any opinions unrelated to football?”

You had intended for the question to come off as a snarky comment, but you realize as the words leave your mouth there are no traces of irritation in your voice. Only the genuine interest you didn’t want to let come to the surface. 

“It may come as a surprise, but actually, I do.” 

Jaehyun’s bare arms are littered with raindrops, hair pitch black as it allows more rain to drip down his face. He must be freezing, but he makes no move to walk home quicker, and so you don’t either. Your hoodie isn’t completely soaked through yet, so you decide you can enjoy the rain a little longer. He clears his throat and you look at him expectantly.

“I like Red Bull,” he begins, eyes blinking down on you as if he’s expecting you to laugh at him or something. But you don’t, and so he smiles wider and continues. “I don’t have a favorite color. Your mom’s kimchi is phenomenal. Plans and schedules are overrated. You want to be my friend.” He stops, watching your slightly startled expression. “Your turn.” 

You think it through for a moment. 

“My favorite color is purple,” You say, slowly tasting the words on your tongue as you let them leave your mouth. “Latte tastes best with two cubes of sugar. You’re annoying and your aim sucks. I want to be your friend.” 

“I knew it.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” You grin as you push his shoulder. He was supposed to stumble backward, but he doesn’t even budge, which should annoy you, but you can’t bring yourself to care that much when the rain is making you feel so light. Or maybe it’s not the rain. You’re not sure. “Stop smiling so much and go inside. You’re going to catch a cold in that shirt.” 

He walks to his door and opens it, but before walking inside, he turns around and waves at you. You wave back, watching as he sports a smile that doesn’t falter even as he disappears into the house. 

You walk back home with a smile on your face, only a quarter annoyed. 

—

It’s a little past eight when Jaehyun sees you kicking stones by the bus stop. 

Actually, he hears you long before you come into sight — a scream of frustration in what he recognizes as your voice hits his ears as he walks outside to throw away the trash. Interested, and maybe a tad bit worried for your well-being, he decides to check what’s going on. And sure enough, there you are, head in your hands as you flop down on the pavement by the road. 

“Y/N,” he says and you lift your head, sighing. “You okay?”

You shake your head in disbelief. How come he’s always there when something’s happening? You let your eyes rake over his frame — he’s wearing sweats and a compression shirt that, even you have to admit, makes him look hot. The outline of his abs is distracting, even for you. Still, you do your best to look him in the eyes as you speak. 

“I missed the bus.” 

He scoffs and you glare at him. “Jesus Christ, I thought something serious happened. You look like you want to die.”

“It is serious!” you protest, throwing your hands in the air. “I’m going to be late for class. Who decided that the buses only run every half hour?” 

He looks like he’s in deep thought, gazing down on you as you sit on the edge of the pavement. His classes don’t start until nine, so he wasn’t planning on heading out to school already, but you’re looking miserable and he’s intent on being on good terms with you. Apart from his teammates, you’re pretty much the only one that doesn’t act like he’s some sort of celebrity. Sure, having girls drool over you is fun, but only until you’re looking for someone to talk to and not fuck. Besides, he enjoys your company. It won’t kill him to leave a little early. 

“Get up,” he says suddenly, and without giving you any time to react, he grabs your arm and hauls you up so you’re standing. “I’ll drive you.”

You furrow your brows in confusion. “You’ll drive me?” 

“Yeah, let me just get the keys to the car.”

And just like that, you’re following a compression-shirt-clad football player into his house that you’ve never been in. For some reason, it makes you nervous, like you’re trespassing or something, but hearing Jaehyun say no one’s home calms your nerves a little.

He walks into the living room and leaves you in the hallway, and you take this as an opportunity to look around. The house looks a little like your own — the design is the same, the walls are painted white like yours and the windows are the same size. But apart from that, it’s so different. 

The walls are littered with pictures — you recognize Jaehyun’s parents, holding him as a baby. Another one is of him and his sister, when they were around seven or eight. They have a couple more group pictures, but other than that, most are of Jaehyun on the football field. Ten-year-old Jaehyun holding what looks like his first medal; teenage Jaehyun screaming in happiness after scoring a goal; and then, your personal favorite — tears streaming down Jaehyun’s face as he lifts a trophy above his head, his teammates all joyfully smiling. 

His parents must be proud of him, you think to yourself. You probably would, too, if you were them. Yet when you were talking to him last, he gave you the impression that his parents weren’t as supportive of him as he’d like. But it’s none of your business, you decide, and avert your eyes from the pictures. 

Your gaze falls on a vase full of flowers standing proudly in the middle of the dining table. It looks familiar, you think, that combination of flowers. Maybe you’ve seen it at the flower shop? No, they’re too messy; they look too handpicked. You stare at the bouquet a little longer, and that’s when it clicks. 

It’s the flowers Jaehyun picked on the way home that day you talked to him for the first time. 

“I got the keys, let’s go.” 

His voice startles you a little, but you only nod, following him out the door. So he picked the flowers for his parents? Or, judging from the way they were carefully placed around the vase so as not to leave any holes, he picked them for his mom. That’s… surprising. And adorable, as much as you hate to admit it. 

Jaehyun opens the garage door only to reveal an old-looking, black BMW. He unlocks it and opens the door for you to climb in. 

“Is this your car?” you ask him hesitantly. 

He smiles as you slide into the seat. “Nope, it’s my dad’s.” 

“And did you get permission to drive it?”

“Nope,” he repeats, grinning, and walks around the car to climb into his seat. “Isn’t that what makes it exciting?”

You probably shouldn’t be letting him drive around in his father’s car like that, but you’re late for class and his excited smile is slowly working to loosen up the nervousness in your stomach, so you just glare at him and whisper a quiet ‘you crazy jerk’ under your breath. He hears it and laughs as he starts driving, your own lips quirking up in a smile as he does so. Who knew Jung Jaehyun would turn out to be your savior today? 

“So, how does it work?” you ask him as he pulls out of the driveway. “Being an athlete, I mean. Do you have any classes or do you just play football all day?” 

“I have classes, too, unfortunately,” he sighs dramatically. “I major in physical education, just in case everything goes to shit. At least I’ll be able to coach teams. But other than that, I just play. Four hours a day.”

You’d kind of expected to have to hold on for dear life, but he’s driving smoothly, only one hand on the steering wheel. His shoulders are relaxed, a small smile playing on his lips while he talks to you, eyes drifting to the side to look at you only for a split second before they’re back on the road. It’s obvious he’s driven a lot before, and you kind of want to know where, but it seems like the wrong setting to ask a question like that, so you don’t. You’ll ask him next time. 

Next time. You almost want to laugh as you realize you’re subconsciously planning to meet Jung Jaehyun again. It’s not like you were expecting to never see him again, but it’s the want behind the words that catch you a little off guard. The fact that you want to meet with him again. 

“Four hours?” you ask finally, joining him in watching the road. “Couldn’t be me.”

“What do you major in, then? English?”

“Nope,” you clown him and he smiles wider. “Journalism. I might be the reporter interviewing you after your next match, so you better be nice to me.”

“I see,” he uses his free hand to fish out his phone from his pocket, pressing it against his lips as if it’s a microphone. “So you’re gonna be all like ‘Hello, everyone, I’m here with national football team member Jung Jaehyun, who just scored fifteen goals in the match against—’”

“Fifteen? You think you’re gonna score fifteen goals?”

“Well, of course. Don’t you believe in me?” His face forms into a mock-offended expression. 

“If I say no, will you throw me out of the car?”

“Probably.” 

You grin widely. “Then I believe in you a hundred percent.” 

The drive ends earlier than expected — maybe it’s true what they say, that time passes by quicker when you’re having fun — and suddenly, Jaehyun’s parking the car outside of your university. Many people are already there, and you spot Beomgyu and Dahyun standing by the entrance. Jaehyun turns off the engine and you reach for the belt, but even as you push down on the button with all your strength, it won’t budge. 

“What the hell?” you mumble, pulling at the belt harder in annoyance. 

You feel Jaehyun’s hand on your wrist and look up, only to see him leaning in your direction. For a moment, your heart stills and your body freezes. His hair falls into his eyes as his nose stills a mere centimeter from your own and his hand rests on the part of the seat right next to your head. From the corner of your eye, you can glimpse his arm muscles flexing, his brows furrowed in concentration. Is he about to kiss you? If so, you should totally push him away, but you can barely register what’s happening before he’s pulling away again, sinking back into his seat. 

What the hell did he do that for? 

“The car’s a bit old.” 

You blink a couple times, brain trying to process just how the fact that his car is old correlates to anything that just happened. You stare at him for a moment, waiting for him to explain himself or something, but he just raises a brow, like you’re the one acting weird. 

That’s when you notice the seatbelt no longer restraining your movements. Oh. Oh. He was loosening your seatbelt for you because you couldn’t do it. 

Holy fuck, just how dumb can you be? Your heart hiccups inside your chest and you almost want to bang your head against the headboard of the car. For a moment of clarity, you slip out from your seat and leave the car, closing the door behind you. A second later, Jaehyun does, too and he looks at you from over the car. 

“Thanks,” You tell him, feeling a little bad you just got up from the car like that. “For driving me and for, uh, loosening the seatbelt for me.” 

The smile makes its way back to his face. “No problem.” 

Fuck, his happiness is contagious. You don’t even try to fight back your own smile. A glance down on your phone tells you your classes are about to start, so you tell him you need to go and giggle softly when he presses his lips out in a pout. He bids you goodbye with his hands in his pockets, leaning against his car. 

And just like that, you make your way to the university building, grinning like crazy. A pair of girls walk by, and you swear you hear them say your name, but they look away the moment you meet their gaze, so you don’t think too much of it. Your friends are waiting for you by the entrance and you greet them normally, a little taken aback when you see Dahyun’s frown and Beomgyu’s unusually grinning face for it to be half past eight in the morning. 

“Y/N,” Dahyun starts as you’re walking to the classroom. “Please tell me I’m wrong, but did I just see you getting out of Jung Jaehyun’s car?”

“I—”

“I knew it! You guys are totally fucking. I can see it in your eyes,” Beomgyu exclaims before you can even respond to Dahyun’s question. “Tell me your secrets, please. How did you bag the hottest player on the football team?” 

“I didn’t bag anybody,” You whisper-shout, looking around frantically as if someone’s going to listen in on your conversation. “We’re just neighbors.”

“And you let every neighbor of yours drive you to school?” Dahyun’s judgemental stare makes you feel bad. What if she’s mad at you? 

“No, I guess not, but—”

She cuts you off, lips forming into a smile as she grabs you by the shoulders. “Then why didn’t you tell me sooner, you idiot?” 

“What?” You look between her and Beomgyu, utterly confused. 

“I’m supposed to be your best friend, you shouldn’t keep secrets from me,” Dahyun pouts. “I’m not mad you’re talking to him, but hello, don’t I deserve to at least know how big his dick is?” 

You burst out laughing, relief washing over you. Thank God they’re not angry, because you have no idea what you would do without their useless comments and endless teasing. “And how am I supposed to know that?”

“Because you bagged him,” Beomgyu sings awfully loudly. 

You push him. “No, I didn’t!” 

“It doesn’t matter,” Dahyun stops you from lounging at him. “Just promise me you’ll tell me everything from now on, okay? I want to know every little detail about this ‘friendship’ or whatever. Don’t you realize this is the most exciting thing that’s happened since Seonghwa’s party last weekend?” 

You laugh. “Okay. I promise.” 

And you walk into class pretty happy with the outcome of things. 

—

It’s not before your classes have ended that you hear the rumors spreading. 

It happens by accident the first time you hear someone talk about it. A group of girls is standing by the vending machine as you’re buying a coca cola, and you happen to overhear their conversation. Or at least, a part of it. You pretty much only catch your name and Jaehyun’s, and then one of the girls nudges their friends and gesticulates to you. That makes them walk away, and you’re left standing by the vending machine baffled. 

What’s even more surprising, Dahyun doesn’t know anything when you ask her about it. It’s only when the two of you approach Minjeong, a gossip girl at most, that you find out what this whole ordeal is about. 

“People are saying you’re dating Jung Jaehyun,” She tells you like it’s obvious. “Someone saw you getting out of a car with him, so everyone is on edge because he might be off limits now. ” 

“Well, you can tell them he’s not off limits,” you say instantly. “Because we’re not dating.”

Then you head directly to the football field. 

You see him the moment you arrive — Jung Jaehyun in all his glory, hair sweaty and legs quick as he dribbles the ball. He’s in the middle of the field, way too far away for you to shout at him. Hesitantly, you walk closer to the sidelines, where the substitute players sit. You spot who you suppose is Jaehyun’s coach, shouting something you can’t quite make out to those on the field. 

You watch them play and for just a moment, you forget why you’re here. At that moment, as you glimpse Jaehyun passing the ball to one of his teammates, you kind of understand why people go to football matches. There’s something nice about seeing people so passionate and letting that passion be the only thing occupying your thoughts. 

Jaehyun’s yell fills the air not a minute later — your own lungs tightening in something that resembles fear, because what if he’s hurt himself? — but then he turns around and he’s smiling wider than you’ve ever seen him smile, and you become aware that he scored a goal. And there’s that passion again. You can't help but smile.

“Can I help you?” It’s his coach that breaks your train of thought, walking up to you with a curious look on his face. 

“Oh, right,” You say. “I’m just here for Jaehyun.”

He sends you a somewhat pitiful look. “Want me to give him your number and have him call you back later? Jaehyun doesn’t really like responding to date proposals during practice.”

“Excuse me?” 

“Hey, coach, it’s fine,” Jaehyun walks over to where you and his coach are standing. Half of his team follows him — some of which are looking at you curiously, while others completely ignore your presence. You turn to Jaehyun with an eyebrow raised and he smiles sheepishly. “Sorry about that, it’s just—”

“—Sometimes all those girls get a little too much?” you ask, tilting your head to the side. 

He smiles again. “Yeah, something like that.” 

You tell him it’s fine and that you want to talk to him for a second, but it seems that he has different plans from how he grabs your wrist and drags you in the opposite direction of where you wanted. You ask him what the hell he’s doing, but he keeps silent and brings you back to the football field.

Now you’re left standing in between a dozen football players and their coach with Jung Jaehyun’s hand holding yours. Great, this is certainly going to help you get rid of whatever rumor is stirring up at campus about you two. 

“Okay, listen up, everyone,” You stare at him with wide eyes as he catches everyone’s attention. “This is Y/N, and she’s my friend, so I don’t want anyone acting stupid around her or I’ll hit them in the head with a football.” 

And just like that you’ve been (against your will) introduced to the whole football team. Oh, Jaehyun is so in for it when you get him alone. You swear you’re going to rip all of that healthy hair off his scalp. That doesn’t happen, though. Instead, you kick him in the shin with all your might after having dragged him behind the university building. 

“Ow!” He groans and you almost smile, but hold yourself back upon realizing you can’t break character like that. “What was that for?”

“I just don’t like you,” you say, then sigh. “Have you heard what people are saying about us?”

“People are saying stuff about us?”

You roll your eyes at his cluelessness, but not before your heart jumps all the way to your throat at how unbelievably good he looks. This is just objective, by the way, and has nothing to do with your personal opinion. It’s just that nobody should look good after running around a football field for four hours, but somehow, Jung Jaehyun does. 

You’re not sure what does it for you — whether it’s his sweaty hair sticking to his forehead or the compression shirt you oh-so-hate literally having become one with his body — but all of it just makes you want to die. Because this is Jung Jaehyun we’re talking about and he’s just some guy that thinks he’s better than everyone else and you don’t like him at all.

But then your brain decides to remind you that this is also the Jung Jaehyun that wants to make the national team and picks flowers for his mom and drives you to school when you’re running late. And your heart doesn’t like that. Not at all. 

“People think we’re dating,” you say finally. “Because you drove me to school.”

“And?” 

“What do you mean ‘and?’” You glare in his direction, but he only shrugs. “Do you know how fast rumors spread around this university? Soon everyone is going to—”

“And what if they do? Do you really care that much what others think of you?” You open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. He tilts his head to the side, and when you don't respond, he takes a step in your direction, only another step away from caging you against the wall of the building. For some weird reason, it makes you nervous having him this close to you, so you step back until your back hits the wall. “Besides, would it really be that bad if what they’re saying were true?” 

“What?” 

You should tell him he’s stupid, or punch him, or do anything, but instead, you do absolutely nothing. Physically, that is — your mind is a whole different story. Your thoughts fly around in your brain so fast it makes you dizzy. Or maybe it’s Jaehyun’s words that are making you lightheaded, you’re not sure. 

Actually, you’re not sure about anything at that moment. Your first thought is that he’s acting way too arrogant again — that he’s trying to somehow make you admit you want to date him, or something like that. And that’s so ridiculous because you don’t want to date him at all — he’s truly pushing his luck now. Has ever since he asked to be your friend. 

But then images of him flash through your mind, his smile, his laugh, his passion, and it hits you like a truck — the nausea is so strong you think you might pass out. He’s gone completely insane, suggesting something like that — there’s no doubt about that — but aren’t you equally as insane for even playing out that scenario in your head? No. You throw the thought onto the ground and stomp on it, like it’s useless. Which, essentially, it is. 

No, you’re not doing this today. 

Upon seeing your expression. Jaehyun takes a step back. Maybe he thinks you’re disgusted. A part of you wants to assure him that you’re not, but the rational part screams at you to shut the fuck up and say nothing. Incidentally, it seems that Jaehyun has something to say. 

“Relax, it’s just a joke.”

That throws you off for multiple reasons. One, he’s acting like you just ruined his fun or something, and it makes you mad. Like it’s not you that just went through a year’s worth of scenarios in your head, trying to figure out what to say. Trying to figure out what to think. Two, he could've said it was a joke sooner, instead of just standing there like an idiot, seeing your face form into an expression of pure horror.

And three, you feel so fucking stupid for not even considering it being a joke. Because it seems so obvious now, as you think back on it, that he was just kidding. God, where did you even get the idea he was being serious? 

The embarrassment mixed with his gaze gets too overwhelming, so you do what any sane person would have done in your position. You walk away. 

You make it twenty steps before guilt stirs up in your stomach. What if he’s mad? What if he thinks you hate him? You truly have no idea why you even care about that — you don’t care about it, right? He’s just some football player, you remind yourself. A football player that hit you in the head with a football. But thinking about that doesn’t help at all, considering how getting hit in the head with a football was exactly how this thing started. 

What if it had never happened? What if he hadn’t kicked that ball in the wrong direction? He would have been a stranger to you, and you would only be a face in the crowd for him. Your name would never settle on his tongue. His dad wouldn’t have to get mad at him for taking the car without permission. And you… you wouldn’t have to feel guilty for walking away from your school’s football team’s forward center. 

But you wouldn’t have known that warm feeling spreading in your chest upon seeing his smile, either. Nor would you know how it feels like to feel happy just by talking to someone. Or just by listening to someone speak. 

The walk home suddenly becomes so long you almost want to sit in the middle of the path and wait for Jaehyun to come along. It turns out you don’t have to do that, because just as the thought crosses your mind, you hear the revving of an engine and an all too familiar black BMW appears a couple meters to your left. You don’t know if it’s fully surprising, but it definitely is somewhat unexpected when Jaehyun stops the car and rolls down his window to stick his head out in your direction.

“You getting in or what?” 

For some reason, your stomach decides to do a dozen flips at that moment, but you ignore them and climb into the car. Jaehyun doesn’t say anything at first — his eyes simply scan you quickly, resting a little longer on your eyes than necessary, and he turns on the engine again after he’s made sure your seatbelt is fastened. 

“I bought coffee,” he says finally, eyes fixed on the road, and motions towards a cup of coffee lying in his cup holder. “Latte with two cubes of sugar, right?” 

“Yeah,” you say, grinning. “Thank you.”

His eyes flick to yours just for a moment, and his lips quirk up in a smile when he notices your expression. “You’re not annoyed?”

You look at him — his sweaty clothes, his stupid smile, the soft tapping of his fingers against the steering wheel. The trees outside are passing by quickly, the sound of the car blending in with the music quietly playing from the speakers. You’re hesitating for a split second, hand tightening around the cup of coffee that feels warm under your fingertips. The sun comes into sight at that moment, blending you as you first look at it, then lighting up the inside of the car. 

All hesitation fades, but not abruptly — it just flows out of your mind like water in a river. The sun remains still, but fragile, like what you say right now might scare it away. But you have no intention of scaring it away — why would you? It’s the same sun that envelopes you in a tight hug as you feel hopeless, the same sun that makes you smile. The sun that piqued your interest and doesn’t want to let go. 

“Well,” you take a sip of your coffee. “You’re a little stupid, but I already knew that. So no,” The sun lights up Jaehyun’s face as you smile. “I’m not annoyed.”

It’s as the words leave your mouth that you realize they’re true. 

—

After that, you and Jaehyun start walking home from school together. 

On days you finish class before him, he sits in the library and does his homework until you text him that you’re done. When his practice lasts until five, you make your way over to the field and sit on the tribunes, waiting for him to end the match. He loses track of time so often you almost become friends with his coach — a guy you find out has lots of comments to make as he watches the boys play. You don’t understand half of what he’s saying at first, but gradually, you learn — life makes a lot more sense after he explains what offside means.

Sometimes Jaehyun even drives you to school (he claims he’s got permission, but you don’t really believe him) even though his classes start half an hour after yours. One those days you pay him back by buying him Red Bull and watching him get way too much energy from it. 

Today is no different. You’re walking out the front door with a bag containing Red Bull and some side dishes from your mom in your hand, phone pressed against your ear as you try calling Jaehyun for the nth time. Your mom shouts something in your direction just as you’re closing the door behind you, but you don’t hear her, too focused on the sound of Jaehyun’s voicemail. 

“Asshole,” You mumble to yourself, dialing his number again. A long sigh escapes your lips when he doesn’t answer. Again. 

The lights in his room are off when you walk over there to check, so you scratch that from the list of possible places to look. Where else can he be at eight in the evening? You think for a while, and then an idea pops into your head.

The football field. 

You nod as if agreeing with yourself and start the walk to the one place you suspect Jaehyun might be. He better actually be there, because it’s getting dark and you have no other ideas as to where he might be. Plus, you’re not that keen on looking for him for three hours this late. 

The way to the football field seems much longer than it really is when you don’t have Jaehyun by your side and when the wind starts messing up your hair. By the time you’ve arrived it’s completely dark outside, and the only source of light is the moon and the lampposts by the small stadium. You almost want to go back when you don’t see Jaehyun anywhere — the air is getting chilly and you’re getting annoyed — but then, finally, he comes into your sight and you sigh in relief. 

He’s wearing black shorts and a jacket to shield him from the cold, one hand pushing his hair away from his face like always, while the other is holding his football. You stand by the edge of the field, watching as he places the ball on the middle of the fake grass. He doesn’t see you, too focused on aiming at the goal, so you just silently observe him as he kicks it, scoring on the first try. This time, he doesn’t scream in victory, but you can glimpse the shadow of a smile on his face. 

It brings a smile to your own features, seeing him this happy. He shoots the ball a couple more times, successfully scoring even as he increases the distance between him and the goal, his hair bouncing each time he runs across the field. You spot his phone on one of the side benches and roll your eyes softly, putting it into your pocket instead so he doesn’t forget it later. Your eyes dart back to his figure just as he kicks the ball again — this time missing — and you hear the groan of frustration he lets out even though you’re standing twenty meters away. 

Overachiever, you think to yourself, noticing how his thighs are a little shaky as he walks over to get the ball again. How long has he been here? He misses again, and you frown as he shouts out in anger. Yeah, he’s definitely been out here way too long. 

“Hey, Mr. I’m-too-busy-to-answer-my-calls,” you finally shout, catching his attention. The corners of his mouth lift up in a smile when he sees you, and you wave the bag of food and Red Bull at him from afar. “You hungry?” 

He jogs over to you with the football tucked under his arm. “You bet.”

There are bags under his eyes, and his forehead is littered with sweat. He looks tired. Still, he’s smiling — and somehow, from under all that exhaustion, the smile reaches his eyes. 

“How long have you been here?” you ask him, sitting down on the grass. He sits across from you watching with hungry eyes as you unpack the food.

“A little over three hours now, I think.” He opens a can of Red Bull immediately and takes a sip of it, missing the way your eyes grow wide at his response. “I have a game next week, remember? Some club coaches are going to be there, so I need to do well if I want to be noticed.”

You lay out the food and hand him a pair of chopsticks. His shoulders look so slumpy you actually need to swallow down the urge to tell him to go home and rest. He wouldn’t listen to you anyway. Instead, you take some kimchi between your chopsticks and put them against his lips. “You’ll do well.”

He opens his mouth and slides the food off with his teeth. “You think so?”

“Obviously.” You roll your eyes and nudge his leg with your foot. “Now eat. You can’t play for a football club if you’re unconscious.”

Jaehyun hums in response and obeys, stuffing his face full of rice. You eat in silence, slowly chewing on the food as your eyes scan his face. It’s funny, but for the first time you notice the freckles littered across his cheeks. You’d seen them before, you suppose, just never noticed them fully. For a moment, you try to count them, but give up when he starts chewing his food and you lose track of which ones you’ve counted and which ones you haven’t. 

You watch as his energy comes back slowly, his expression cheerful as he’s done eating. He helps you clean everything up and throw away the soda cans, then, as you’re getting ready to leave, he bumps your shoulder. 

“Let’s play football.”

“What?” You raise your brows, looking at him incredulously. “You want me to play football? Is your brain fried from the Red Bull or something? Let’s just go home.”

He grabs your wrist before you can walk further away and when you turn around, he’s standing there with a pout on his face. 

“Just one game,” He pleads, tugging at your hand. “Please?” 

The warmth from his skin spreads across your body, and you hesitate. You hate playing sports, and playing with Jaehyun will most definitely result in you having to face the embarrassment of not being able to kick the ball correctly. Still, something jumps in your chest at the fact that you’ll spend less time with him if you decide to just leave. That resolves it. 

You sigh. “Fine.” 

He grins widely, dragging you across the football field. You have no choice but to follow, painfully aware of his fingers laced through yours. It’s not like it bothers you, at least you don’t think it does, but it’s different than what you’re used to, especially when it comes to him. You decide you’re thinking too much about it, and breathe out as he lets go of you to put the ball in the middle of the field. 

What you can’t seem to determine is whether that’s a sigh of relief or loss. 

“You know how to play, right?”

“Yeah,” You say, anxiously rummaging through your thoughts in order to remember everything his coach and those stupid football youtube videos told you. You only watched those in case some of Jaehyun’s teammates ever decided to ask you about your opinion on their game, but you suppose this is where they’ll come in handy. “Kind of.”

He laughs at the uncertainty in your voice. “I can work with that.” 

He steps back, motioning for you to start. Okay, you think to yourself, it’s going to be easy. You just need to dribble the ball, run past Jaehyun with it, and kick it into the goal. How hard could can that be?

It turns out it can be, and is, very hard. Especially when you’re playing against Jung Jaehyun. 

You somehow manage to keep the ball in check until you reach where he’s standing, but that’s when everything goes wrong. It’s like the football somehow levitates to his foot the moment he gets close enough, and his leg doesn’t even have to touch you for him to steal it away from you and score a goal a millisecond later. If you weren’t totally indifferent to football, you might’ve started crying from the humiliation just about now. 

You half-expect Jaehyun to end it there, but he doesn’t. Instead, he passes the ball to you and you barely manage to stop it before it rolls further down the field. He smiles that annoying smile of his — not a pitiful one that you were expecting, but rather a genuine one that forces you to swallow down your embarrassment. 

This time it works out better — you manage to get past Jaehyun, pushing him in the process which you’re sure would’ve gotten you a red card in a real match. 

“Hey, that’s against the rules!” 

You laugh, and faintly, from behind the wind rustling in your ears, you hear him laugh, too. His footsteps get louder behind you and you panic, shooting the ball, only halfway aiming at the goal. It doesn’t surprise you when it hits the metal pole on the left and bounces back, right between Jaehyun’s feet. 

“You can’t kick it like that if you want to score a goal,” he scolds you playfully as you turn around to face him, a little out of breath while he looks entirely relaxed. 

“Well, I don’t know how to kick it to score a goal,” you whine, throwing your hands up in the air. 

Jaehyun’s lips form a toothy grin, eyes lingering on your frame for a little longer than they probably should. Your hair’s a mess from running and your shirt has slid down your shoulder, exposing the strap of your bra. It’s weird how the sight suddenly makes his face feel warm — like when you told him he’d do well. Have you always looked this pretty, or is he just going crazy? Maybe you’re right and his brain actually got fried from all that red bull. 

He clears his throat as if to clear his thoughts and motions for you to come closer, eyes persistently looking anywhere but your exposed skin. “I’ll teach you, c’mere.” 

“Okay.”

You walk closer, gasping softly when he turns you around so you’re facing the goal, your back a couple inches away from his chest. He hates how much he likes that sound, how right it feels when his fingers brush over your skin in order to pull your shoulders back. His hot breath lands on your neck and you try your best not to shiver — he’s just showing you how to play football, for fuck’s sake, it isn’t that deep. The breath you take is, though. Deeper than it should be and you hope to God he doesn’t notice. 

“Your foot is supposed to move like this,” He demonstrates with his own foot, but you can’t really focus on anything besides his raspy voice right by your ear. “Just one fluid movement. You get it?” 

“Yeah.” 

But you don’t understand any of it — the quick beating of your heart, your ears that are ringing, the cold air that suddenly is out of reach when it was forcing itself on you mere seconds ago. None of it makes any sense at all, but you still nod your head in order for it not to seem too weird when you wriggle out of his grasp. 

Your eyes meet his when you turn around and he passes the ball to you again. His smile is pretty, just like it always is, but this time, your heart beats harder against your chest when you see it. You kick the ball and prepare yourself to have it taken away from you, but Jaehyun stands still as you pass him. Thanks to that, you manage to run up the field and score a goal. 

Before you can think twice about it, you turn around and smile in Jaehyun’s direction, voice laced with excitement as you shout. “I did it!”

He can’t hold back the grin that creeps onto his face. You look happy, he thinks, and your smile looks so sincere it makes something turn in his stomach. He almost wants to run up to you and hold you in his arms — he could’ve used the excuse that he’s proud of you for scoring, it wouldn’t be a complete lie — but he doesn’t want to overwhelm you. Or himself. 

“Of course you did, you’ve got the best teacher in the world,” he says instead, walking over to where you’re standing. “Let’s play for real now. First to score five goals wins.”

“So you’re telling me this wasn’t for real?” you ask with a pout and he chuckles. You’re about to walk to the middle of the field to play again when you feel a hand grab your wrist. 

Jaehyun turns you around and your confused eyes meet his when he takes a step closer, so his chest is only a few centimeters away from your face. “Wait a second,” he says, but it comes out more like a whisper. 

Before you get the chance to protest, his hand leaves your wrist and comes up to tug at your shirt instead. He pulls it further up your shoulder to hide the bra strap peeking through, and the way your skin forms goosebumps under his fingertips makes him bite his lip. It seems this whole action is having the opposite effect than he wanted it to. 

“I don’t want you to catch a cold,” he explains.

It’s not a complete lie, but he has to admit covering you up had more to do with his wandering eyes than anything else. Still, you nod sweetly, and continue your way to the middle of the field. He follows you, reminded of what he’s here for. You’re playing football, and if there’s anything he’s good at, it’s that. But if that’s the case, why is his heart beating faster than normal?

He tells himself it’s the adrenaline, but it makes no sense even for him — you haven’t even started playing yet. 

Your blood pressure is still way too high as you kick the ball to Jaehyun, you’re sure of it. Yet you try to ignore it and focus on the game — you’re gonna need it. His foot stops it with ease, and in no time, he’s running with the ball almost glued to his shoes. He makes it way too close to the goal you’re supposed to be guarding, before you manage to remind yourself that you're here to play, not watch him mindlessly. 

And so you play. It doesn’t take long before Jaehyun scores two goals, shouting in triumph each time like he isn’t playing against someone who’s basically never touched a football before. You don’t mind it as much as you let on, though, and the whole thing actually becomes a little fun when you figure out how to regain the ball. 

You run and chase each other — he scores another goal and so do you (you’re pretty sure he went easy on you, just so you wouldn’t be discouraged) and then he scores twice again. That’s five goals, but he doesn’t stop playing, and neither do you. You play for almost fifteen minutes, in which he scores probably more than twenty goals, before you manage to catch him off guard and score a goal he isn’t prepared for. 

“Oh my god, did you see that?” You turn to him, jumping up and down like a kid. 

“You did well,” he shouts and you grin at him, pride swelling up in your chest at his expression. 

That’s when it starts raining. First, it’s just a couple drops, one hitting the tip of your nose, and then it’s pouring down, wetting your hair and clothes. You look up at the sky with a soft smile, faintly hearing Jaehyun whine in the distance.

“How come it’s always raining when we’re together?” he groans. 

“The sky wants to cry when it sees you, probably,” you reply, jogging up to him. Maybe if he was busy thinking about the rain, you’d be able to take the ball from him. “Stop complaining so much.”

But ultimately, he was right — the field is slippery and wet when it’s raining. This, you find it in the worst way possible. Namely by slipping right as you’re trying to take the ball from Jaehyun, your hands dragging him down with you as you fall. 

Jaehyun feels his heart stop for a second there as both of you fall to the ground. The rain is pouring harder than ever — his shirt is sticky, his hair is wet, but he feels lighter than ever as he props himself on his elbows not to crush you completely. Raindrops trickle down his face and fall onto yours — your nose scrunches as the cold water hits your skin, and the. it's sliding down your jaw to slip into your shirt. You. You're soaking, too, with your white shirt clinging to your body, letting him see the outline of your bra from underneath it. He does his best to keep his gaze on the grass, but his eyes seem to gravitate towards you no matter how hard he tries.

You look beautiful in that moment — he tries for a long time, but finds no other way to describe it. Just beautiful. You're smiling, no, laughing, and he feels your heartbeat against his chest like it's his own.

Suddenly, he wonders what it would be like to kiss you. It's new, that thought, but somehow it also feels familiar. Like it's always been there, buried somewhere inside his head, but only now has come up to the surface. Would you like it if he kissed you? Looking at your face, he truly can't tell. 

“Get off of me, Jaehyun!” you fake-cough and he laughs. “Do you want me to die?”

“I know CPR,” he replies, but makes no effort to stop you as you push him off. 

You'd expected him to hold back, but he doesn't, so you roll over one too many times, until he's the one lying with his back against the grass and you're straddling him. Oh, fuck. 

You freeze in your spot, every muscle in your body tightening as you realize just what you’ve done. It takes you a second to process it — how you’re looking right into his dark eyes, how you can feel his chest heaving from underneath you, abdominal muscles flexing right beneath your core. And even as you understand it, your body just won’t move. Especially when Jaehyun’s hands suddenly rest on your waist, causing your eyes to go wide, but your body staying still. 

It’s an innocent act, really. He just wants to help you get off of him. That’s his initial motive, at least. But Jaehyun kind of forgets how to think when his fingers unintentionally slip a little under your shirt and he comes in contact with your bare waist. It’s not like he’s never touched a girl’s skin before — he’s had a couple girlfriends, and he’s touched all of them — but it’s something about the fact that it’s you that makes his heart beat faster. 

He wonders for a brief moment whether your heart’s beating like crazy, too. Then you lay the palm of your hand on his bicep and he’s brought back to reality. Right. He wanted to help you get back down on the grass. 

His arms lift you off of him with ease and he helps you sit down on the field, your vision and thoughts only now clearing fully. You look at him, a little dazed, feeling the rain drip down your face. 

Jaehyun sends you a worried look. “You okay?” 

“Yeah,” you tell him, only then realizing it’s true. 

“Wanna go home?”

You ponder on that for a second, looking up at the sky. It’s pouring and it doesn’t look like it’s going to stop any time soon. At this rate, you’ll probably catch a cold. Still, you don’t feel like going home. For some weird, twisted reason, you want to stay here with Jaehyun. 

And so you say, “Not yet.” 

He nods, looking as if he’s in deep thought. You lie down on the wet grass next to his sitting frame, sighing deeply.  It takes a few nudges of your finger poking into Jaehyun’s ribs for him to understand you want him to lie down with you, and when he does, his face forms into an expression of disgust.

“The grass is wet,” he comments with his nose scrunched. 

“Yeah, that’s usually the phenomenon that occurs after it rains.” 

He rolls his eyes, but keeps silent. You smile softly, following in his steps. The sky is pitch black, and it’s most definitely way too late to be lying on the wet grass of a football field with Jung Jaehyun, but at that moment, you can’t bring yourself to care. 

As subtly as you can, you tilt your head to the side to look at Jaehyun. His eyes are closed, mouth slightly open, and for a second, you think he might have fallen asleep. You shuffle a tad bit closer, just to make sure you can hear his breathing — which you can — but you end up staying there, with your hair resting on his shoulder. You’re unable to tell if it bothers him, so you just lie there, eyes flicking back to the sky and the few stars that are peeking through the clouds. 

“You wanna know a secret, Y/N?” He breaks the silence a minute or two later, his head turning in your direction as he looks at you through lidded eyes. The rain drips down his face, all the way to his lips, where it disappears into his mouth. You nod slowly, your heart beating nervously as the air around you seems to thicken. It’s almost like you can sense it — how he’s hesitating, how his heart is about to beat out from his chest.

“I’m scared,” He whispers finally. head falling forward so it rests against yours. “I’m really fucking scared.”

It’s like the earth stops spinning. Though that might just be the feeling of dizziness that comes with your blood pressure skyrocketing momentarily. His forehead burns your skin, but it’s more of a warm embrace rather than deadly flames. The rain’s slowing down, you notice only by watching his face, only a few of his freckles hidden behind raindrops.  

“What are you scared of?” 

Your voice is equally as quiet, like you’re afraid of scaring him off. Mostly, though, it’s because you don’t trust your voice not to quiver when he’s this close to you. Something about touching him makes you nervous, though you’re not sure why. 

“I don’t know. Everything, I guess,” He sighs and pauses, moving his head to rest in the crook of your neck instead. You listen as he takes a few deep breaths, and feel them against the skin of your throat — warm air against cool flesh. “I’m scared that it won’t work out. That I won’t make the national team, and this will all be for nothing.”

You scrunch your nose as he moves away from you to glue his eyes to the sky instead. “You will make the national team, though.” 

“Even my parents don’t believe that,” He scoffs, but his voice breaks midway in the sentence and it’s like it tears your heart apart with it. “They don’t even want me to try out for the team, you know. They think I’m wasting my time and energy on something I’m not sure I can achieve. My dad wants me to study law or medicine, and my mom… I think she just wants to stop worrying whether I’ll get a job after college or not.”

You stay silent for a moment, trying to gather your thoughts. Jaehyun’s breathing is heavy, his jaw clenched. You want to do something to ease his mind — hug him, tell him you believe in him, buy him all the red bull in the world — just anything. But you don’t know what to do or what to say, because you’ve never seen him like this. Vulnerable. 

Finally, you take a deep breath. “It’s understandable she’s worried—” 

“I know, but—”

“You didn’t let me finish,” You want it to come off as sharp, but it doesn’t. It does catch Jaehyun’s attention, though, and he turns to you again. “It’s understandable she’s worried, but if your parents doubt you can make the national team, they must be completely clueless to just how fucking stubborn you are.”

He blinks — you don’t know whether that’s a sign he’s confused or he’s listening attentively. Maybe it’s both. 

Without thinking it through too much, you place your hand on his. It’s just your skin resting against his, you’re not brave enough to hold his hand properly, but it still makes your heart pick up its pace. You’re not sure why you do it — whether it is to comfort him or yourself, but something in your stomach jumps as Jaehyun’s eyes flicker down to where your hands are connected. 

A sense of fear flashes through your head. What if holding his hand did the opposite of what you wanted? What if he’s disgusted? For a moment, you feel so nervous you think you might die. 

But then his fingers move across your skin and you look down just in time to catch him interlacing his fingers with yours. Suddenly, your skin is filled with goosebumps, and you have the suspicion it isn’t solely from the cold rain. You look at him, but his eyes still rest on the grass separating you two. Which is kind of relieving, because you need a second to calm yourself down and recollect your thoughts. 

“I mean, look at you,” you pick up where you left off, finally finding the right words, and only then does Jaehyun’s gaze find its way back to your face. “You’re the guy that started playing football against high schoolers in middle school because the people your age got mad you always won. Sorry to disappoint your parents, but you’re gonna make the national team. I know you will.” 

His chest heaves with every breath, strands of wet hair all up in his face. It’s stopped raining, and only then do you realize just how cold it is. Jaehyun stays silent for a few moments, his eyes never leaving yours. And just like how people say they drown in someone’s eyes, you find yourself swimming in his gaze. Floating, because drowning would mean dying and you’ve never felt more alive than right now. 

Jaehyun forces you out of your thoughts by moving your intertwined hands so they lie between your faces instead. 

“Thank you,” he whispers. You’re about to shrug it off, but he cuts you off before you can even finish your sentence. “Don’t you dare say it’s nothing. I mean it.”

“I wasn’t going to say that.”

“You’re a terrible liar,” he smiles for the first time since you lied down on the grass, and you shiver. His eyes don’t fail to notice, and he’s quick to say, “Let’s go home, I’m freezing.”

He’s not freezing, though. Actually, there’s some kind of weird, warm sensation bubbling in his chest as he stands up and pulls you with him. His fingers leave yours, which for some reason makes him feel a little sad, and he takes off his jacket, the cold air hitting him harder than ever. You raise your eyebrows, probably wondering why the hell he’s taking off his clothes when he just said he’s freezing. 

“Take this,” he hands you the jacket, which on second thought he realizes is completely soaked through and will probably do nothing to shield you from the cold. Jesus, he feels so dumb he wishes the ground would swallow him up. “Uh, it’s a little wet, but…”

You smile as you take the jacket from his hands. “Thank you.”

Jaehyun watches with a grin as you put it on, rolling up the sleeves that fall past your fingers. He thinks this might have been the best day of his life. 

No, he doesn’t think. This time, he knows. 

—

You never would’ve imagined yourself sprinting to college at 10am on a Saturday in order to watch a football game, yet here you are.

Truthfully, it’s your own fault. Staying up drinking with your friends the night prior probably wasn’t the best idea, but Dahyun complained you were spending too little time with them and too much time with Jaehyun, so you wanted to make it up to her. Little did you know that would result in you being woken up by your phone ringing, Jaehyun’s voice asking you where the fuck you are. 

“I’m on my way, don’t worry,” You had responded, obviously lying — for what reason, Jaehyun wasn’t sure, because he clearly heard it in your voice that you were barely awake. “I’ll be there in fifteen.”

That was fifteen minutes ago. Turns out you aren’t a complete liar, though, because just as your phone shows 10:15 (meaning the game starts in five minutes) you have reached the football field, where the tribunes are pretty much packed. You look around to find Dahyun or Beomgyu, but there’s too many people, so you walk closer to the sidelines instead, hoping to spot Jaehyun’s coach. 

You see him outside of the locker room — he’s surrounded by the whole football team, and you catch a glimpse of Jaehyun in his black uniform. His brows are furrowed as he says something, maybe he’s explaining some playing strategy, and then his teammates are nodding along and the coach pats him on the back. You smile softly at the scene, but then a voice announces that the game is starting in two minutes through the speakers and you have the sudden urge to wish Jaehyun good luck. 

“Jaehyun!” You shout, jogging up to him just as he’s about to follow his teammates onto the field. He turns around, and his confused expression molds into a grin as his eyes meet yours. 

“You made it,” He says, and you nod. His gaze moves down to your body, and you wonder if you put on your shirt the wrong way or something, but then he smirks. “Nice jacket, by the way.”

You furrow your brows and look down, only for your heart to skip a beat as you realize what you’re wearing. His jacket. The one he gave you when you were playing football a couple days ago, and you never bothered to give it back because you always forgot about it. And because it smells nice, but you’d never admit that. 

Shit. You must’ve put it on by accident due to being in a hurry this morning. 

“Oh, I was just about to take this off, actually. I just brought it with me to give it to you and—”

“Keep it,” He cuts you off with that awful smirk on his face. Does the football field give him some sort of confidence boost or something? “It looks better on you, anyway.”

It’s almost suffocating, the warmth stirring up in your chest at his words. Like your heart’s tightening and not letting you breathe, except you’re breathing just fine, almost getting drunk on the amount of air in your lungs. It’s a paradox, you suppose, just like you desire to be with him simultaneously to how you hate your heart for beating faster around him. 

“Thanks,” You say. One look at the field and the tribunes overfilled with people makes you remember how much of an important day this is to Jaehyun, so you take a deep breath and say, “Good luck, by the way. Not that you need it.” 

He smiles as the judge blows into his whistle, signaling the game is starting. “How about a good luck kiss?”

“Now you’re really pushing your luck, Jung Jaehyun,” You literally feel your inside turn to mush as you push him further onto the field. “Go play before they start without you. Go!” 

“You gotta watch the whole thing, okay?” He shouts, running backwards as the ball is kicked for the first time and the game starts. “Don’t you dare leave!” 

And just like that, he runs to help his teammates, leaving you on the sidelines with a smile on your face. 

Dahyun and Beomgyu are still nowhere to be seen, so you ask Jaehyun’s coach whether you can sit on the side benches a few moments later when your legs start to get tired from standing. He’s standing alone, too focused on the game to talk to anyone — at least until you approach him. Much to your surprise, he seems like he expected your question and takes you to where the substitute players are seated. 

“Thank God you finally came,” Jaehyun’s coach says as you both sit down, watching the players run across the field. “Jaehyun looked like he was about to cry when I told him there were ten minutes left before the game and you still hadn’t shown up.”

You chuckle. “I think you’re over-exaggerating, Coach.” 

Your eyes are glued to the field when Jaehyun’s team scores their first goal — Jaehyun cheers loudly and so does the audience, and you see a soft smile on his face as he pats his teammate’s back. He looks proud and happy — it’s nice seeing him like that after all the nights he spent preparing for this match. 

“You’re kidding, right?”

You turn your head in the coach’s direction momentarily, confused. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he sends you a knowing smile that you miss when your gaze flicks back to the game. “I’m not over-exaggerating. He’s crazy about you. At practice, he’s unfocused, because he’s waiting for you to come. He leaves early and says he’s tired, but instead of going home, he drives to the coffee shop. Some days his eyes will be drooping and he won’t talk to anyone, but then you sit on the sidelines and suddenly, he’s the happiest man alive.”

The opposing team scores and your heart sinks in your chest, Jaehyun’s frustrated scream filling your ears. You don’t know whether he’s screaming so loudly, or if you’re just hearing his voice because he’s all that matters to you on that field. The coach’s words are like a ticking bomb inside your brain — you can tell from how he’s looking at you from the side that he wants to say something more. Quietly, you pray he won’t, that he’ll forget about this conversation, that your heart will calm down. That Jaehyun will win and you’ll go back home praising him for his skills and he will be happy and you won’t have to think too much about everything that’s messing with your head. 

“I mean, I don’t know what’s going on inside his head, but what I do know is that I’ve never seen Jaehyun act like that before. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he might be in love with you.”

“Good thing we both know better, then,” you reply, but your voice is shaky. Insincere. “Besides, even if he did feel that way, I don’t like him like that at all.”

You’re not sure whether you’re trying to convince Jaehyun’s coach or yourself. 

When the judge announces a break and Jaehyun comes to sit by your side about ten minutes later, there’s a million thoughts inside your head, but you push all of them back to send Jaehyun a smile. 

“You didn’t leave,” he says breathlessly.

“Yet.” 

He pouts. “Mean.” 

You watch as he gets a bottle of water and opens it above his head. The water splashes in his hair and trickles down his face while the sun illuminates his frame. His uniform is clinging to his body with sweat, legs just slightly shaking when he stands up so the water doesn’t spill on you. He looks beautiful, you realize with a bitter heart — so beautiful it makes you want to rip your hair out. 

“You’re staring.”

“Oh, shut up,” you scoff, breath hitching in your throat at his comment and smirk. “I was only looking to tell you you look awful.”

He’s about to retort something, but the whistle blows again and he needs to leave. A little too early for your taste. You get that he’s here to play football, but surely they can afford to give him five more minutes to relax? Your hand moves before your mind, grabbing his wrist before he walks away and turning him around. 

“I won’t leave, just so you know. I was just joking.”

You’re not sure why you say it or why you’re so reluctant on letting him go, but Jaehyun doesn’t question your behavior. At least not out loud. 

“I was hoping you’d say that,” he grins, teeth on display as the wet hair falls into his eyes. 

The judge shouts at him to get back immediately and so, a little panicked and a little infatuated, you reach forward without thinking too much and push the hair strands out of his face. You’ve thought about doing it so many times that it doesn’t dawn on you that you actually pushed his hair out of his eyes before your gaze meets his and you notice the shock on his face. 

“So your aim won’t suck,” You explain quickly. “Don’t want you to hit anyone in the face just because your hair’s in your eyes.”

Jaehyun tries his best to keep the blush from creeping up his neck at your touch and at the way you seem nervous, too. Silently, he makes a promise to himself that if he wins this game, he’ll tell you he wants you to come to every single one of his games from now on. If he doesn’t… well, that would be really fucking embarrassing and he’s trying to impress you here, so he decides to throw that option away completely. 

“Right,” he says to you, unable to hide his smile. 

And then he’s running away with a shit-eating grin on his face. 

When there’s two minutes left of the match and Jaehyun’s team is winning by three goals, you’re smiling like crazy, ready to start shouting in glee any second. 

But as Jaehyun runs close enough for you to see his face clearly, he doesn’t look happy at all. Your eyebrows furrow as you look at him, and in that moment, you truly wish you could read his mind. He should be celebrating, no? It’s certain his team will win. 

That’s when you remember what he said that night roughly a week ago: Some club coaches are going to be there, so I need to do well if I want to be noticed. 

He hasn’t scored any goals for his team, except one that was a penalty kick. You look at him again, and this time it’s obvious — the shame in his eyes. You want to shout at him that he’s stupid to think he did bad just because he hasn’t scored some extraordinary goal, but instead, you settle on squeezing the arm of the bench as hard as you can, until your knuckles turn white. 

“You love him, don’t you?”

“What?” 

You wish the question surprised you more than it did, and you definitely wish the answer to it didn’t pop up in your head immediately. Easily, like it’s an exam question you’ve studied for a week to answer, the exact question you expected to be asked. But you’ve put the pieces together — whether that happened the day he drove you to school or ten seconds ago, you don’t know — and the puzzle doesn’t need any more solving. 

“You love Jaehyun,” the coach repeats, and this time, your whole body breaks out in flames at his words. 

“Yeah,” you say finally, eyes on Jaehyun as he manages to take the ball from someone on the opposing team. “Yeah, I do.” 

Jaehyun’s foot moves smoothly — one fluid movement, just like he told you — as he kicks it. It cuts through air quickly, but it’s enough time for everyone to hold their breaths in suspense, the tribunes growing deadly quiet. You don’t dare make a sound. But then it falls right into the goal, passing by the keeper’s shaky hands and the silence shatters with the sound of Jaehyun’s scream. It’s joy, pure happiness in the form of his voice and when he falls down on his knees with a smile wider than ever, you think you’d do just about anything to see him this happy again. 

His teammates surround him like moths drawn to a flame as the judge announces the game is over, mere seconds later. You’re just like them, in a way, because you can’t hold yourself back from standing up and walking onto the field yourself. 

“Jaehyun!” 

He turns from his teammates, meeting your gaze from where he’s standing a couple meters away from you. You send him a smile and suddenly, something wet is settling in the edge of your eyes. You blink it away, kind of embarrassed, yet it doesn’t stop you from practically running into his arms as he spreads them invitingly. 

You wrap your arms around his waist. nuzzling your head in his chest as his arms pull you into a warm embrace. His team is probably confused to no end, he thinks, but really, as long as it doesn’t bother you, he doesn’t care. No, actually, he does care, but only about the elation that stirs up in his heart at being this close to you, at smelling your hair, hearing your breath. It’s stupid, probably, but for the first time, his disappointed father wasn’t the first person to occupy his thoughts after he scored.

It was you. 

He pushes you away softly, only far enough to look down on your face while keeping his arms around your middle.

“Hi.” 

You smile up at him and it’s perfect. All of it — the crowd screaming for him, the adrenaline in his veins, you. He loves all of it. 

And so he responds with a “Hey,” and does what any other sane person would do.

He kisses you. 

He’s not sure what gives him the final push. Whether it’s the adrenaline from the match, your smile, or that intense feeling of pure love that fills him up to the brim, until it finally spills over and his lips land on yours. 

It’s not like he imagined, the kiss. In his daydreams, his pulse was steady and his heartbeat slow, lips moving in sync with your without mistake. Now, his palms are getting sweaty and his heart is beating out of his chest and there’s so much he wants to feel at once that his lips aren’t enough. His hands rest on your waist, but they shiver, and he wonders if it bothers you. You don’t seem to mind, though, so he brings his fingers to tilt your chin up a little, slipping his tongue inside your mouth. 

The sun warms up your face when he deepens the kiss — at least that’s what you tell yourself, feeling your whole body heat up the moment your chest is pulled flush against him. Your fingers sink into his hair, heart beating dangerously fast as you taste him on your tongue. It’s like some sort of mantra — just Jaehyun, Jaehyun, Jaehyun inside your head. 

Even as he pulls away to breathe, all the cheering coming from his teammates barely reaches your ears, drowned out by the sound of his breathing heavy against your lips. 

You love him. There’s no doubt about that; not anymore. There might’ve been before — you can’t really remember when your brain’s foggy from the fact that you just kissed Jung Jaehyun — but now, you simply feel like your heart will explode any second if he doesn’t kiss you again. 

“Y/N,” He says instead and you look at him expectantly.

“Yeah?”

“You wanna know a secret?” 

“Always,” you reply, voice a little shaky. It’s true, though — you want to hear all his secrets and store them away in the deepest corner of your soul along with all the small moments you’ve been hiding there ever since you met him. 

“I’m in love with you,” he breathes finally, and you feel his grip on your waist tighten. Like he’s afraid you’ll run away from him. “I’m really fucking in love with you.”

Really, though, you’re far from running away. If anything, you wish you could stay in this moment forever — looking up at his face, lip pulled between his teeth and his chest heaving with each breath. The people around you are a part of the background, you can faintly hear some whispers of Jaehyun’s name, but almost everyone is busy celebrating their win. You’re also busy celebrating, your heart doing somersaults, your brain still trying to process what was just said.

Jung Jaehyun is in love with you. And you’re in love with him. 

“Can you please say something? I’m about to die from embarrassment here.”

“Sorry,” you giggle, looking at the way Jaehyun’s scratching his neck. “It’s just that this is the first time I’m seeing you this nervous. It’s cute.”

He puts on an utterly scandalized expression, burying his face in his hands as his ears go red. “Cute? Oh my God, now I’m going to have to switch football teams and—” 

“I’m in love with you, too, stupid,” you cut him off with a grin, pulling him closer so your chests are touching again and you have to lift your head up to look him in the eyes. “Even if your shirt is soaked with sweat.”

“You like it when I’m all sweaty, though.” Suddenly, he’s regained his confidence, making your heart beat harder when his hands cup your cheeks and he leans down to nuzzle his nose against yours. Is it awful that you feel something turn in your stomach at the sight of his bare arms this close to your face? Probably — but honestly, you don’t care. “Don’t deny it. I’ve seen how you’re looking at me during practice.”

Your breath hitches and you push him away, trying your best to ignore the warmth spreading across your body. “You’re delusional, Jung Jaehyun.”

“I’m also your boyfriend, so I’d say it’s a win,” He grins, intertwining his fingers with yours, but then his smile falls for a moment, replaced by a tentative gaze in your direction. “I am your boyfriend, right?”

“Yeah,” You smile and the gleeful expression returns to Jaehyun’s face. “Yeah, you definitely are.” 

—

Jaehyun is impatient. Always has been, and probably always will be. 

Only that until now, it hasn't been a problem. In fact, his coach always used to say that his restlessness is what makes him a great football player. That it's a blessing. 

But right now, as Jaehyun finds himself getting impatient at his football game because his mind is filled with thoughts of you, he thinks it's more like a curse. A strong one at that. Because how the fuck is he supposed to focus on kicking a football when you're sitting on the tribunes, waiting for him in the tiniest skirt he's ever seen?

Okay, so maybe it's his own fault, because you did ask him what you should wear to his game this weekend and he had picked out the skirt himself. But you had sent him a picture of it on the floor, not around your hips, and he never would’ve imagined it being this short. Besides, had he known you’d wear a low-cut top with it, he would’ve told you to wear jeans, because dealing with a boner on the field isn’t exactly ideal. He doesn’t even want to think what his teammates will say if they notice his state. 

You’re not completely innocent in this matter, though. Putting on that top that makes his eyes linger on your cleavage a second too long and shamelessly staring at him during the whole game is most definitely intentional. You’re not evil, though — it’s just that dating the hottest footballer on the school team is supposed to have its perks, right? 

And one of them should be getting to fuck him after a game, because — as much as you hate to admit it — he does look hot all sweaty. 

You sit on the bench silently, cheering when Jaehyun’s team scores a goal and blowing kisses in his direction when nobody sees. It’s kind of funny just how quickly you managed to go from being his friend to making out with him every chance you get. Now, after just a month of dating, you know everything about him and yet you want to know more. What you love most, you think, is that there’s always something more to find out.

Like whether Jaehyun will let you drag him into the locker room after the game. 

Your prediction after seeing him look in your direction countless times during the match is that he will, but, just like everything about him, it’s uncertain. But that’s just what makes it even more exciting to wrap your arms around his neck after his team has won, standing on your tippy toes to kiss him. It isn’t the first or even twentieth time you’re kissing him, but feeling his lips on yours feels just as amazing as ever. 

“Hello to you, too,” he mumbles against your lips, slipping his fingers under your shirt so he can grab your bare waist. It tickles where he touches you, like fire spreading across your skin. “You liked the game?”

“Not really, it was boring,” you tell him and he rolls his eyes with a soft smile. “I don’t even know why I come to these things.”

“Because you love me, that’s why.” 

“You’re so overconfident,” you click your tongue, unable to hide your smile as he pulls you even closer, so you’re flush against him. “But I guess seeing you in this uniform makes up for it.”

He grins at your words.

“Told you. You love coming to my games.” 

“Mhm.” You rest your head on his shoulder, looking up at him. “Don’t you think I deserve a reward for being such a good girlfriend?”

You watch as he processes your words, eyebrows raising. His lower lip trembles just in the slightest as he figures it out — in the exact same way it does before a big game or when he’s dying to kiss you. He might be sending you a careless look, but from how the tips of his ears are tinted pink, it seems he’s less unbothered by your proposition than what he’d like to be. 

“You wanna go home?”

He asks the question casually, but his fingers grip your waist tighter. 

“No,” you reply and he furrows his brows, tilting his head to the side. “It’s too far away.” 

“Too far away?”

“Mhm.”

You stand on your tiptoes to nuzzle your nose into his cheek, lips lightly brushing over his dimple. He smiles softly and you take the opportunity to press a kiss to his cheek, before moving lower. You can hear him swallow when you kiss down his jaw, head instinctively tilting a little to the side to let you continue onto his neck. He didn’t really plan on giving in this easily — teasing you is his favorite thing, after all — but your wet kisses against his skin are enough to make him cave. 

It’s only when your lips reach his collarbones and he feels himself growing hard from underneath his shorts that he remembers you’re standing in the middle of the football field, where everyone can see you. 

He inhales sharply as your lips suck on a spot just above his collarbone, hand grabbing your waist tighter. “What do you want to do then?”

“Come with me.” You don’t miss a beat, pulling away to grab his hand. 

Jaehyun’s teammates are long gone as you lead him in the direction of the sidelines — some changing in the locker rooms, others probably on their way home by now. The weight of Jaehyun’s hand in yours calms your nerves a little, because — as much as you hate to admit it — he still manages to make you nervous with his presence, especially when he’s in that goddamn uniform and his ego is over the roof. 

You drag him further along the football field, and stop by the locker rooms, pressing your ear against the door of the first one. 

“What are you doing?” 

You don’t reply to his question, just shake your head as you hear the water running from one of the showers, and move on to the next locker room. This one is completely silent when you listen for any noise and you smile in victory, pulling Jaehyun’s hand harder as you slip inside. 

“Y/N, what are you-”

You cut him off, pulling at his shirt so he leans down and allows you to kiss him, this time on the lips. He gives in immediately, hands flying to cup your cheeks and tilt your head backwards so he can slip his tongue inside your mouth with ease. You stumble a few steps back, the plan to double-check whether there’s anyone here long gone from your mind as you kiss him. 

Jaehyun’s hands fall lower, to your hips, and he pulls you closer only to rest his leg between your thighs. You shiver at this, letting out a shaky breath into his mouth. He smiles against your lips, obviously satisfied by your reaction, and slips one of his hands inside your shirt. You feel it travel upwards, creating goosebumps on your bare skin before he manages to unclasp your bra and take it off so you’re left with only your tank top, nipples showing through the thin fabric. 

It’s him that pulls away first, eyes taking in your state and a groan leaving past his lips. “Is it bad I really want to fuck you stupid right now?” 

If bad means your panties suddenly feeling uncomfortably wet, then sure, it’s bad. But mostly, you think you might die if he doesn’t touch you again.

“The only bad thing is that you’re not doing anything about it.”

You pout at him, feeling something turn pleasantly in your stomach when he pulls his lip between his teeth, jaw set. He looks so good it drives you insane — shirt sticking to his muscles, thigh on display from where it’s resting between your legs. If he just moved it up an inch or two…

“Jae…” you say, and his eyes move up to look at your pleading face. “Would you please do something?”

He raises a brow, and presses down on your hips, testing the waters. Sure enough, you let out a half-suppressed whimper when your clothed pussy just slightly touches his thigh. He smiles at that, flexing his thigh as he does it again, your nails digging into his biceps as he guides your hips along his leg. It makes your head spin when your pussy is dragged back and forth against his skin, and you practically moan out his name as you tug at his arm. 

Tilting his head to the side, he smiles. “You want it that bad?” 

“Need it, Jae, please.” 

“God, you’re so needy,” he presses his tongue against his cheek. “Alright, if you want it so bad, I guess I’d be really mean not to give it to you, right?”

You don’t need any more assurance. Quickly, you grab the hem of his shirt and pull it over his head, knuckles grazing his sweaty muscles on the way up. Your eyes take a second to admire his bare chest, and you can only imagine how widely he’s grinning from the way you’re rubbing your thighs together in order to ease the heat forming there. You’ll worry about the consequences of your own actions (Jaehyun’s relentless teasing) later, though — for now, you’re more than happy with the promise that he’ll give you what you want. 

Goosebumps form on his skin when you press a kiss against his collarbone — picking up where you left off earlier. You smile against the flesh, looking up at him as you let your teeth bite down just slightly, enjoying how his brows furrow and his fingers squeeze your breast in response. His abdominal muscles feel firm under your lips as you kiss them — slowly, because seeing him go crazy is one of your favorite things in the world. 

He bites down on his lip as your kisses move further down, tongue swiping over his abs before you reach the waistband of his pants. You can see the outline of his cock through his shorts — probably hard and leaking for you, and the thought forms a throb between your legs. Letting your fingers move downwards, you palm him through the fabric, which makes a soft groan escape past his lips.

“Stop.” You look up as Jaehyun tugs at your hair, his eyes hazy and chest heaving. Confused, you blink up at him, but he only pulls you up and against him, his cock just barely rubbing against your thigh. “Wanna feel you.”

You don’t really get to respond as he drags you further into the locker room, walking all the way to the corner of the room, where the lockers are. 

It’s unexpected when he spins you around, hands positioned on your hips as he pushes you softly so your chest comes in contact with the cool locker. You gasp quietly as the cold seeps through the thin fabric of your shirt, your first instinct to pull back, but Jaehyun holds you in place. His hand slips under your top and comes up to play with your tits to warm you up, and you sigh into his touch when he pinches your nipple lightly. 

“Okay?” he asks, his breath hitting your ear, and it takes you a second to register he actually wants you to answer. 

“O-okay,” you mumble shakily upon feeling Jaehyun’s other hand on your inner thigh, slowly inching towards the throbbing between your legs. 

His fingers pinch your thigh and you shudder, biting your lip when his knuckles brush over your clothed pussy from underneath your skirt. Your panties are completely soaked, some of your arousal probably seeping onto Jaehyun’s fingers when he rubs his fingers against you again — slowly, so softly you have to stop yourself from whimpering for him to give you more. 

He understands it even without your words, though — probably from how your hips involuntarily move back to meet his fingers — and lifts up your skirt so he can pull your panties down your legs. You help him eagerly, lifting your legs and meeting his gaze for just a moment as you take the opportunity to turn your head. He sends you that smile that makes your knees buckle before grabbing your hips again and pulling them against the bulge in his pants.

There might be a layer of clothing separating your pussy from his cock, but you still let out a mewl at the feeling of finally creating some friction. You just know Jaehyun’s wearing a grin when he pulls away from you again, only to replace his hips with his fingers that make you shiver when they come in contact with your bare cunt. He slides them back and forth through your folds, spreading your arousal across your pussy before he rubs your clit in circles, making you clench around nothing. Your head falls against the locker, a small whimper escaping past your lips. 

“Yeah?” He retracts his fingers momentarily, only to deliver a slap to your cunt — which makes your mouth part in a broken moan. “This okay, too?”

You shiver, pushing your hips back even more. “Yeah.”

His hand grips your hip tightly as he teases your entrance with his finger before slipping it inside, your walls sucking him in immediately. You moan his name, spreading your legs wider so he can start slowly moving his finger, curling it inside your cunt in a way that makes you clench around him. Your mouth falls open as he adds another finger, pumping them in and out of your hole so well your legs feel weak after only a few pushes. 

If it weren't for your hazy mind, you definitely would have felt embarrassed at the loud sounds of his fingers fucking you, but with his digits deep inside of you and his cock pressing against your ass from behind, you can't bring yourself to care. It feels so good you don’t want it to stop.

Except it does — a mere twenty seconds later, as you feel the familiar sensation of rapture start to stir up in your stomach, Jaehyun pulls his fingers away like you weren’t so close to reaching your high. 

You turn around with a pout on your face, legs slightly shaking. “Why’d you stop?”

You feel like you could cry, but Jaehyun only chuckles, leaning down to plant a kiss on your lips. You lean into his touch, whimpering into his mouth when he squeezes one of your tits. 

“Want you to cum on my cock,” he says against your lips and you shiver, feeling his hands drop to your hips, pulling you closer so his still clothed cock rests just beneath your throbbing pussy. “Okay?”

“Yes, please.”

He smiles, eyes crinkling as your hands move to pull down his shorts and boxers, mouth parting slightly when you take out his cock. You almost want to get on your knees and suck him off, but the painful throbbing between your legs tells you otherwise, so you only stroke him a couple times, kissing his jaw, before letting him turn you around again. 

His hands come up to your waist to lift your shirt over your head and throw it off somewhere. You let out a small whimper when your bare tits are pushed against the lockers, arousal pooling between your legs.

“What if somebody comes in?” you ask, admittedly more to hear his voice than to get an actual answer out of him. You're way past worrying about someone coming in by now.

Jaehyun clicks his tongue and you feel his cock press against your cunt, softly grazing your folds and coating itself in your arousal. “I guess you’ll just have to be a good girl and stay quiet so nobody does.”

Clenching around nothing at his words, your hands come up to hold the lockers so you don't fall to your knees from the simple sensation of him slapping your pussy with his dick. You try pushing your hips back to make him hurry, but he's intent on dragging his cock through your folds painfully slowly, paying no mind to the way you whimper as he comes in contact with your puffy clit. 

Thank God he's an impatient person, because his teasing doesn't last more than five seconds before he's lining up at your entrance, pushing in slowly with his hands coming up to play with your tits. You lean into his touch, moaning softly at the stretch and spreading your legs further to help him slide in. You don't really need to, though, because you're so wet he thrusts into your cunt with ease. 

“Shit, I love you so much,” He mumbles into your ear, a small groan escaping past his lips as he bottoms out, your walls tightening around him. “Love fucking this pussy. Always so wet and warm for me.”

You hold harder onto the lockers as Jaehyun starts rocking his hips into yours — slow, shallow thrusts that already have you biting your lip to muffle any sounds that threaten to spill from your mouth. Faintly, you hear the slam of a locker in one of the other rooms, and it only makes your cunt clamp down even harder on his cock. 

“You love it too, don’t you? Love having your pussy stuffed with my cock?” 

Jaehyun’s grip on your hips tightens as he pushes deeper into your cunt, your moan way too loud for it to be classified as quiet. You only nod in response to his question, your eyes rolling to the back of your head at the feeling of him pulling almost entirely out before pushing his cock back in, so deep you swear you feel him in your stomach. 

He groans at how you’re sucking him in, landing a soft slap on your ass. “‘Course you do, that’s all you ever think about, right? Even when we’re in public, all you want is to get fucked dumb.”

You nod dumbly. You whimper loudly when he picks up the pace of his thrusts, your pussy tightening around his cock. It takes him less than three rolls of his hips to find that one spot that makes your toes curl, and when he does, he makes an effort to hit it repeatedly, so fast it makes your head spin. 

“Yeah? Feels good?” 

“Mhm,” you choke out. And as if you’re not shaking from pleasure already, he brings his fingers to rub circles into your clit, his arms practically holding you up. “Please don’t stop, Jaehyun, please—”

It confuses him a little — why you think he would even want to stop right now, with the way you’re clamping down on his cock, moaning his name in a way that has him struggling not to cum right then and there. His own hips stutter just as you start clenching and unclenching around him, your moan growing into broken whimper and incoherent mumbling of how good it feels and how you want him to go faster. 

And so he does, grabbing your hips harder so he can push you further onto his cock, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. His thrusts make the locker bang softly against the wall, but all you can focus on is the way his cock is pistoning in and out of your cunt, filling you up to the brim. 

“You gonna cum, baby?” he rasps into your ear as you start shaking from underneath him. “Gonna cum all over my cock?” 

You only nod frantically, mumbling something he can’t make out and then, with a last few rubs of his fingers against your clit, the knot in your lower stomach snaps. He cums not too much later, groaning against your cheek as he spills his cum inside of you. 

Jaehyun lets you come down from your high before he pulls out, smiling to himself at the whine you let out. He gets dressed and helps you put your shirt and panties on, chuckling as he sees your legs shaking when you walk over to him.

“What the hell are you laughing at?” you grumble at him, but it doesn’t really sound threatening when you’re wearing a giddy smile on your face. “It’s your fault, you know. You’re gonna have to carry me home now.”

“Sorry,” he replies, sounding the least sorry he’s ever been. “If it makes you feel any better, I just got hard again from looking at your legs.” 

You scoff at that, but let him interlace your fingers as you emerge from the locker room together. It almost surprises you how cold the air outside is compared to how hot it was inside — though you think that might’ve had something to do with other things than just the temperature. 

“So,” Jaehyun grins from ear to ear as he speaks up a few moments later. “When do I get to fuck you in the locker room again?” 

TAGLIST: @kflixnet @mrkis @ljnfav @shiningdery @qiankunslove @fluffyjaes @the-universe-in-you-jjh @honeym4rk2 @pckeia @baehaechannie @peachjamal @luv4jeno @lunarmindedchild @myjaewoo @kange3939 @bimb0beee

[misctf]

Don't know if you still want requests but I grew up playing good old american football so I naturally have bulked way up and become so big but now I'd like to play soccer. Can you help me get from football bulky to soccer lean?

You jogged back to the side-lines, high-fiving your teammate as they ran out to take your place. The whistle blows, and you watch as the game resumes. If you told your younger self you’d be trying to play soccer, he would’ve laughed. As your dad said, you were born to play American football. And years of training your body left you bulky and muscular. At 6’2” and 230lbs, you’re a beast. But since graduating college a few years ago, you found it hard to get back into football. Most of your colleagues were into soccer and your company’s team played weekly.

“You should play.” Jake from accounting said.

“Nah, not into that kinda stuff.” You initially replied. You weren’t some twinkle-toed foot fairy. You played football. A real sport.

But you eventually caved. You figured you needed some more cardio in your life and connecting with your colleagues a bit more couldn’t be that bad. You just didn’t figure how much you were going to love it. Or how bad you’d be at it. Your coworkers patted you on the back after you failed to complete a pass. They reassured you it was okay when you accidentally scored on your own goal. And you eventually figured you just didn’t have the body or stamina for the sport. But you weren’t a quitter.

You’d never heard of the Jock Exchange Program until an ad popped up on your screen one evening. You read closely, becoming absolutely fascinated. An app that gives athletes the chance to try out a new sport. An for app those who feel they dedicated themselves to the wrong sport. The process is simple. Match with someone and meet at one of their facilities. Easy enough. You set up your profile, snapping a picture that highlights your bulky, muscular form. And after swiping through a few possible swaps, you match. The guy’s name is Dylan. Just turned 19, blond, lean, and played soccer all his life. He’s a bit young, but he reassures you he’s okay aging up a bit if it means he gets a chance at playing American football.

And a few day later, you’re at the facility. It was the first time you met Dylan. He was certainly shorter and younger than you. A confident, cocky grin etched on his face. You agreed to a 1 month swap, just to see how it goes. You and Dylan sign the papers. And before you knew it, electrodes were hooked up to your head. And then everything went black.

When you awoke, the world around you felt a big larger. You raised your hand and gasped. It was smaller, hairless. The skin young and not weathered by the years. You grab a mirror and look closely at your handsome face, blond hair, and tanned skin. You can’t help but chuckle. It felt so odd. So foreign. Yet it was yours all the same. You eventually got ready and said goodbye to Dylan, who was clearly enjoying his new larger frame. And as you walked away, you couldn’t help but glance back at your old body. You were never much of a narcissist, but god you looked good. You blushed when you felt your new cock chub up a bit. Returning home, you had the chance to really appreciate your new form. The lean, hairless muscle a far cry from your bulkier form. The confident, cocky smirk reminded you of all those asshole jocks you used to play with. This kid probably got a lot of action, you figured.

The next few days were largely normal. You went to work, having to explain to everyone your situation. But afterwards, you had the chance to really shine on the soccer field. Your lean form moving expertly, performing moves you didn’t even know were possible. Jake comes up to you afterwards, slapping you on the back and commending your new skills. And again, the oddest feeling passes through you. When did Jake get so attractive? I mean, he was a good looking guy. Just out of college- really gorgeous smile. And his stubble was a sexy addition to his chiseled face. You even notice the sweat dripping down his shirt. And his manly musk causes your dick to stir. You never had thoughts like that before, yet all you could do was stare dreamily at him.

“Hey, you good?”

“Uh yeah, bro.” You say, “I...” You pause and give him a confident smirk, “Just wondering what you’re doing after this, man.” You say. Images of him fucking you cross your mind and you’re lost in a horny daze, “Wanna head back to my place?”   

He gives you an odd look and asks if you’re okay. Using a name that you don’t think quite sounds right.

“Uh, name’s Dylan.” You say. He raises an eyebrow and in that moment, you snap back to reality, “Oh shit, uh sorry Jake. I need to go!”  You quickly part ways, your mind trying to make sense of what just happened. Just a blip, you figure, nothing to worry about.

But as the days continue to pass, you’re starting to recognize these issues aren’t improving. Your performance at work declines. Tasks you knew how to do with ease are taking much longer and are done incorrectly. At the same time, you’re constantly horny. The hormones raging in this younger body- consuming your every focus. And one night, while you’re browsing porn sites, you realize straight porn isn’t doing it for you. Without much thought, you navigate to a gay porn site you know you’d never heard of, and find a video. And for the first time, you jerk off to gay porn, moaning the entire time. Completely lost in the bliss.

The next day, you don’t even go into work. In fact, you don’t really recall what you do for work. Weren’t you in college? And who’s apartment was this? But a voice is telling you this isn’t right. You can barely recall aspects of your old life. And you realize in terror that these thoughts aren’t your own. You quickly call the help desk for the Jock Exchange Program and tell them what’s been going on.

“That was part of the risks, sir.” They say, “Sometimes, remnants of the old person’s mind remain. And in some cases, will overwrite the host.” They clear their voice, "Not to alarm you, but once an overwrite occurs, it may be impossible to rectify."

“Overwrite? Impossible?” You ask, the panic in your voice evident, “How do I stop this?”

“We can initiate an emergent transfer back to your old body. Can you tell us your name?”

“Dylan Conners.” You say, shaking your head, “No, it’s Dylan Conners.” Your eyes widen and you realize you can’t even remember your old name. In a panic, you hang up the phone.

You need to stop this. You need to... do what? Stop what? You shake your head. And, as you look around the apartment, you feel uncomfortable. This isn’t your place. You don’t even know how you got here. Despite a voice telling you this is your apartment, you flee. You run down the sidewalk and try to make sense of what’s going on. You quickly head to a spot you know all too well: the soccer field. And when you arrive, you take a deep breath. A feeling of comfort washing over you. There’s an abandoned soccer ball and you quickly start to practice. Each move wiping away your worry. Each successful shot on goal removing any doubt that you’re anyone but Dylan Conners. And by the time you’re done, covered in sweat, only Dylan Conners remains. You look down at a text on your phone.

“Hey man, wanted to know if you wanted to prolong this exchange. Got a spot on the team for the rest of the season. And btw, I’m loving this body.”

You chuckle, “Who the fuck is that?” You wonder. You quickly text back, “Sure man, I don’t give a shit.” And close your phone.

[risuola]

DO YOU WANT TO STAY? — F. READER x GOJO SATORU

After the painful breakup with Satoru, your friends dragged you out for the party to have you loosen up, but the night went very wrong and very right.

cw: smut, hurt/comfort, unprotected sex, creampie, cursing, mentions of alcohol, brief violence, mentions of blood and very, very minor injuries (like scratches), little bit of post-breakup depression but nothing major; angsty vibes nonetheless, reader discretion is advised — 5,5k words

In the coldness of the dark night, you tried to get to your apartment, kick off those high heeled torture devices you’ve decided to put on earlier that day and just sink into the softness of your bed. Maybe right after washing away the concoction of cologne that lingered all over your figure, resulting from the awful experience that was clubbing with your friends. Fed up with all of the drunk assholes that tried to get into your pants with no shame whatsoever, you left, sending just a short text to Suguru. Resigned after trying to catch a taxi for few minutes, you moved by feet, cussing under your breath for the shoes you wore and if not for the filthy ground that disgusted you, you’d already be barefoot.

Padding in short, quick steps, you dumbly decided to cut the way with the shortcut that led you through the dark, stripped of most lights side-street-areas, the ones that nobody in the right mind would choose at any circumstance, but you were far from the right mind, when your feet felt like they were bathing in their own blood, with skin peeling through each and every step you pushed forward. And you thought you’re being lucky that night, seeing nobody in your way as you strode through the dark alley, before your hopes crushed in pieces as few men twice your size stepped right in front of you. Instinctively, you backed out and glanced behind yourself, thinking that maybe it still wasn’t too late to run back to the main street, but as you did that, the way closed by another wall of muscle. Trapped in the circle of misfortune, you noticed the metallic shine of bats few of them held loosely propped on their shoulders as they measured you out with their filthy eyes, grinning so wildly, you could see their teeth reflecting light even in the darkness of the alley.

“What do we have here, huhh?” one of them spoke and a mixture of laughs and chuckles, huffs and groans followed the question, along with many disgusting comments that made the horny men in the club look nearly innocent, as you thought about it.

“I’m just passing,” you said, swallowing the shake of your voice down to at least look like you were keeping composure, which you definitely didn’t. Resignation began flooding your system whilst the circle tightened around you, invading your personal space, making you feel smaller than you really were and causing your brain to forget all of the self-defense skills you had. It wasn’t much, but anything could possibly be better than just giving up, but you were already broken, doubting that any more damage could make things worse.

Just a month ago, you broke up with your boyfriend of twelve. It was heading towards the first real anniversary of your seemingly joyful relationship when everything crumbled right in front of your eyes, collapsing like a house made of cards. Satoru Gojo was everyone’s favorite – truly, everyone loved him – girls wanted to be with him, boys wanted to be him; students admired him, he was teacher’s favorite with his perfect grades, the know-it-all, the golden boy and even his enemies, that he had a lot of, would give everything to just once wear his skin and be him, be the infamous Satoru. And he was yours, for a year before the bubble burst and everything you tried to build with him shattered, along with your whole world. He was your whole world, you loved him sincerely, with all his flaws that he had quite a few, with all of his charms and wits, all of his handsome looks and every single one worn out, tired picture he hid from the outside world, but you were his inside world so you saw all of him.

When the break-up happened and the ground underneath your feet crushed, leaving you in shock so deep that you bluntly agreed to staying friends, as he briefly suggested in between his venomous spits, considering your shared group of close friends, but it turned out that staying friends after being so close and intimate wasn’t necessarily possible, at least for you. With memories of many nights filled with exploring each other’s bodies to the point of nearly passing out tattooed inside your mind, you couldn’t just watch as he poured his natural charm onto someone else than you so you quickly cut him off, removing his socials from your followings, removing him from your sight and retracting from any group activity with people that you called your friends as well. You couldn’t be in places where he was present, couldn’t see how effortless flirting was for him just days after he became free, how well he was presenting himself when you tried your best not to cry at the thought of him alone, not to say the sight of him with the crowd of thirsty girls at his feet.

It’s been a month and you still felt broken, so broken, in fact, that you were deliberately giving up fight in the threatening situation you found yourself in. It was your fault, after all, to try and cut your way short when you should never step into one of those side-alleys, aware of what Tokyo darkness’ hides. Silently, you hoped to just die here quickly, as you wished many times in the past few weeks, the heartbroken feeling slowly suffocating you inside the walls of your apartment that you trapped yourself in before your friends forced you out to club that night. And you pulled yourself together earlier that day, made yourself look presentable and even put on those fucking heels, determined to drown your sorrows in the sweet alcoholic drinks, to open up to new people, to feel like yourself once again and maybe, just maybe, find yourself a man, even if it’s just for the night because no one could replace Satoru. And you failed miserably, unable to have any fun in the crowded, sweaty space full of swaying bodies and disgusted at the thought of having sex with anyone there. You were never a party nor quickie kind of girl, you only began attending clubs with Satoru as he liked those loud musical gatherings and you found comfort alongside him, with the safe shelter of his protective arms the crowd around you seemed nonexistent and now, as the barrier of his muscles was taken away, you felt almost threatened by the drunk-dazed atmosphere so you ran away, giving in to your self-preservation instincts that clearly wore off when you turned into the alley off the main road.

“What should we do with you, princess?” one man asked, grinning widely and you felt the coldness of his steely bat underneath your chin that forced your head up enough to face him. “Oh, don’t cry, it’s gonna be soooo fun,” another added and it's at this point that you realized that a tear run down your cheek so you quickly wiped it away, wondering if it was caused by the fear or the wave of regret following the rush of memories that just a second ago flooded your system as you tried to recall why you even ended up in that situation, reminding yourself of the post-Satoru depression. “For us, at least. For you maybe not so much,” a laugh reached your ear from the back as you felt a hand gluing itself to the curve of your waist, and you flinched uncontrollably while your whole body was declining you anything above that movement. Cursing yourself, cursing the world around you, you tried to force your muscles to contract again, to move at any direction, to run if you’re lucky. Maybe the high heeled shoes could make for a weapon, maybe you could at least poke someone’s eye out, maybe you could do something, but instead, you did nothing. Squeezing your eyes shut and lowering your head, resigned and slowly agreeing to enter hell that was about to open right before you, you froze once again hearing a pained whine right behind your back. The palm that just a second ago was pressed disgustingly to your body was now gone and you were too scared to look at what happened so you stood in place, hoping that a black hole opened behind you, swallowing the man that threatened you.

“I’ll say it only once,” a voice you heard made your eyes snap open, but you kept them fixed on the ground, convinced that your brain, influenced by alcohol, fear and despair, was making things up at this point. “All of you, keep your hands off of her, understood? It’d better if y’all just run so nobody gets hurt.” You heard it again, you heard him again, the strict tone with honeyed undercurrent, and the shadows consumed your trembling figure as his towering body stood in front of you, effectively creating a barrier between you and the gangsters. You raised your head, your eyes run over the lines of his broad back until they finally landed on the messy head of snowy-white hair that even in the murky area stood out. He looked relaxed, with his hands tucked into the pockets of his varsity jacket and his head tilted slightly to the side. You took one step back but your feet met something that block it – that something being an unconscious body of a man that previously was touching your side. Stunned, you looked forward once again, only to see the scene of calculated violence playing out as Satoru easily dealt with hooligans. With quick, impressive displays of agility and strength, he put down one by one, effectively clearing the way for you to go home, but you stayed where you were until he finally finished the beating.

“Y’alright?” he asked and all you could do was nod when he grabbed your forearm, pulling you to leave the place of danger. Your body barely moved, tensed painfully and you felt the burn spreading along your skin from where his fingers were wrapped around your flesh. Forcing your legs to move, you tried to match his pace as he was leading the way towards your flat, hand still keeping a secure hold on you as he looked forward.

It’s in front of your building when you finally jerked your arm out of his grasp and he looked down at you, almost offended at how desperately you distanced yourself from his touch when before you’d lean into it instantly. Standing there, you finally locked eyes with his crystalline blue ones, that were looking down at you through the light strands of his hair and you couldn’t help but notice they’re longer than he’d usually keep them, crossing the length of comfort – as he used to call it – with the pukes irritating his eyes when below it. His seemingly neutral expression hid some tension, you noticed his brows creasing just slightly and his jaw flexing underneath the light layer of his skin.

“I leave you for what, few weeks, and you’re already getting in trouble?” he snapped rolling his eyes out of habit, but you could tell it was far from his usual teasing tone and he hated the way you were looking at him, or rather, through him. Your ability to see through every single of his little lies never annoyed him more than in this very moment, whilst you two stood awkwardly underneath the block you live in – the same one he used to live in with you, finding it convenient because of the shorter route he had to take from your place to college, comparing to the one he had from his own. “No wonder you’re in hot water when you walk naked through the shadiest alleys available.”

“I’m not naked, Gojo.”

“Gojo, huh?” he hummed in displease and chuckled bitterly at the unfamiliar sound of his last name rolling off your tongue. “That’s what you revoke me to? Not even a ‘thank you’ for saving your dumb ass a moment ago?”

“I don’t recall calling for your help,” you snapped, feeling the sudden wave of anger washing over you, as his words stung just as they were a month ago, but the angry feeling was gone as soon as it flowed in, when you noticed his hands. Knuckles stained in red, glistening in the street-lights as some spots were still bleeding after he punched down a little group of hooligans barehanded. In your defense. “You’re bleeding.”

“Another reason why you should be a little more thankful”, narrowing his eyes, he tried to hide his hands from you but you grabbed one of them and as you examined the damage, guilt began making your eyes wet, your mind unable to bear with the thought of any hurt happening to the man you still love so much it began killing you the second he was gone. Blinking the tears away, you exhaled. “Come inside, I’ll-“

“No need,” he grunted instantly, taking his hand back by force but you insisted, “please, let me at least clean these.”

Satoru started to regret the decision as soon as he stepped into your apartment, with all of the memories hitting him like a brick the moment he looked around the place. It looked all too familiar, everything so similar to how he left it a month ago, he was almost convinced you didn't change anything since that day. A blanket he bought you still hung loosely on the couch back rest, a cup from which he used to drink his morning coffee still was standing on the kitchen counter and even the chair in the living room was still pushed near the sofa, serving no real purpose for you whilst he liked to put his legs up while watching TV, being too tall to fit comfortably on your furniture. Everything felt so similar, like it was his home but now it wasn’t anymore.

“Come”, you snapped him from the trance and he followed you to kitchen island, where you already pulled the first aid kit to dress his injuries. You made him sit on the high-chair, while you kept standing on the ground and as you focused on cleaning his knuckles gently, Satoru could shamelessly analyze your features. Unable to deny your cute concentration, the corners of his mouth curled up just slightly as he noticed your brows furrow when you discovered more and more scratches along his skin. If it was his decision, he would just wash his hand at home and call it, but you always liked to take care of him and he often got home with scratches, sometimes getting them just to be tend by you, making you laugh at the unwise effort. If he wanted more attention from you, he could have asked – you always said, joking that although you’d try, you’re not sure if more attention was even possible as he took all of your mind. Now, as he looked at the precise movements of your gentle fingers, he wondered if he’s still appearing in your thoughts sometimes or have you pushed him out completely.

With a cloth and warm water, you cleaned the blood off his knuckles, revealing many little wounds that although shallow and harmless, will sting like hell when you use the disinfectant so you sighed quietly, already hating the thought of hurting him more. “There was no need for all that,” your voice was quiet enough, that if not for the complete silence of your apartment, he might have missed it. “You just got hurt.”

“And you might have been hurt much more than I am now,” he forced his tone to sound somewhat calm but his insides were burning. How could you say such things? How could you prioritize his well-being over your own, after what he’s put you through.

“I kinda wish I was,” you blurted out, pressing the gauze soaked in alcohol to his knuckles but it caused no reaction, as Satoru looked at you stunned. The words that just left your mouth were sinking in, and he found himself unable to speak.

“What do you even mean?” he forced finally, his voice lower and angrier and you tensed at the sound of his usual soft, melodic tone now stained with rageful undertones. “What do you mean, ‘you wish you were hurt’?”

“Pain that’s physical is easier to bear,” you replied quietly and cleared your throat, changing the subject as you finished wrapping his hands with thin, protective layer of bandage. “It should be good.”

"And what makes you so unhappy that you're that desperate for your body to hurt, huh?" Satoru asked, his face twisting in annoyance. "Surely, it cannot be me." The thought alone, the very idea that he might be the reason for you wanting to feel physical pain just to dull the mental made his insides turn with guilt but his effort to sound unbothered caused you to shut down and step back.

"No," you lied, packing up the first aid kit, looking strictly down. "It's nothing, forget it."

"It's not nothing, I want to know-"

"Not everything can always be as you want it," you snapped, walking away to put the kit where it belonged in the kitchen cabinet, silently hating yourself for the tears that moistened your eyes, hating the heartbroken feeling he fueled so skillfully with his nonchalant speech. You exhaled shakily, "y-you should go."

"Yeah. I think I should," he got up from the chair but instead of heading out, he circled the island in few large strides to catch your shaking hands and pull you into his chest. "But I won't. I need to talk to you. I have to."

"You said everything a month ago. You said enough back then, do you truly have anything to add?", the question rendered you hopeful that he's not going to say anything more because you couldn't take anything more. You were hurt through and through, your soul was crying and bleeding every second of every day since the one that broke you and you knew that you were way too close to the edge to take any more stabs of his sharp tongue and not fall down.

"Yes, I have," he kept you close but you don't fight. With your cheek pressed against his heartbeat and his strong hands secured around your shoulders and back, you kept yours down, hanging alongside your body afraid to touch him because if you’d allow your arms to embrace him, you might never let him go, risking another tear of your soul if he ripped away. "I want to apologize. For everything I did and I said then and now, and any time. I'm constantly talking shit, I don't know – fuck, I feel like sometimes my brain just shuts off. I'm sorry."

"You're what?", stunned, you forgot how to breathe and only whisper pushed through your mouth as you listened to his rambling.

"I'm sorry, y/n, sugar. I'm sorry, I've never... I didn't mean to- I don't know, I don't even know how explain it."

He spoke and your world stopped.

"What does that mean?", you asked, unable to hide the spark of hope that crawled into your voice as you breathed in his scent, absorbing his aura full of familiarity and warmth that you used to bask in every day since you got together. Your relationship always was heavily physical, it was the love language you both shared and you loved the way his hands never seemed to not be touching you, whether it was keeping you pressed against his chest or just smoothing over your hand with his fingers.

"It means I'm an idiot, that's what it means. No one ever I can love like I love you; I can't stop thinking about you, I can't sleep, god, I feel like I can't breathe. What I'm trying to say, uh... Fuck, I miss you, 'kay?"

"But you told me to go to hell", you reminded yourself and him as well, in your head replaying the cruel record that broke your world into pieces. "You told me-"

"I know", he stopped you from talking and you felt his body shifting slightly as his hand found your cheek, cupping it tenderly and lifting it so you looked up at him. Locking eyes with his light blue crystals you searched for the truth but couldn’t see anything. Satoru's heart broke once again when he noticed the intense shine of your eyeballs, wet from tears that you desperately tried to hold back. "That day I was... It was a bad day; nothing justifies it but I wasn’t thinking clearly. That day I hurt everyone around me, you, Suguru, Shoko, I even insulted Mei and she’s hard to hurt. Chain reaction of my stupidity, I ruined everything and as they forgot about it quickly, I couldn't bring myself to face you after what rolled off my tongue. And then I couldn't find you."

"I couldn't be seeing you so shamelessly flirting with everyone around you. I cut myself off", you said quietly, laying your hand over his own pressed against your cheek as his thumb smoothed over the damp skin underneath your lower lashes, wiping the salty residues away.

"I was being stupid," he sighed. His eyes lowered a little to glance over your lips, suddenly unable to resist you, losing the last bits of self-control the longer he looked at you. "It's you that I love, sugar." With that, his head lowered slowly, giving you enough time to push him away if you really wanted to, but you stayed in place, as if you were expecting what follows so he pressed his lips against yours, squeezing the gasp out of your chest and you couldn’t fight him when he was kissing you like he's starved.

The moment your mouths connected made you feel dizzy and you felt your knees buckling underneath the weight of his feeling. Instinctively, feeling you lose your balance, Satoru grabbed you by the hips and lifted you effortlessly, sitting you on top of the kitchen island and wiggling his way in between your legs to keep your body as close to his own as possible. You whined quietly, feeling the cold marble underneath your naked thighs where the dress rolled up. The kiss became messier, burning with lust and longing and you wrapped your legs around his middle, pulling him even closer, already tugging at his t-shirt that realistically you couldn’t take off because of the jacket still hugging his broad shoulders. Gojo read your intentions and pushed the garment off, breaking the kiss just for a second so you could take the black blouse off of his toned body, revealing the light skin strangely clear of any nail marks and love bites that you usually adorned him with and he wore those with pride. Your hands glued themselves to the softness of his flesh, examining the bumps of muscles flexing beneath your touch, and he crashed his lips against yours once again, kissing you messy and teethy as your tongues danced to the fiery melody of desire. Satoru was quick to encourage your dress to come even higher, his hand reached to the back, where he knew a full-dress-length zipper was waiting to be pulled down and he grinned into the kiss whilst exposing your velvety skin completely to his disposal. Wasting no time, he took you closer, smoothing over curves of your perfect figure, squeezing your supple flesh and you melted into the touch of his warm fingers with a soft whine that you couldn’t stop.

Satoru moved down, smearing kisses along your face, through jawline and onto your neck and shoulders and you couldn’t hold back a quiet moan at the feeling of his plush lips sucking spots on their way down. Brushing through his silky white strands, you allowed him to push down the straps of your lacy bra and before you noticed, it was off and on the ground as the man lifted you up from the cold counter, heading towards the conjoined living area and soon dropping you onto the soft couch, following you closely. You bounced slightly off the pillowy seats as he hovered above you, his lips glued to your skin, marking and exploring every inch as he moved down to take care of your chest and you stroked his strong shoulders, scratching them red.

Your body jolted up when suddenly you felt pressure of Satoru’s fingers over your clothed clit, as he rubbed circles over the sensitive bud while his mouth worked your perky nipples. The way his tongue danced around the pebble and how his teeth grazed the delicate skin continuously made you forget your own name, but for him it mattered only if you remembered his. Your mind became hazy, you felt like nothing else existed except for the man above you and you made your way down to unbuckle his jeans, impatiently diving your hand right into his boxers and wrapping your cold digits around his already hardened shaft. His cock was thick and leaking, begging for attention and it sprung out long when you pulled him out the trap that was his underwear. Satoru moaned against your breast, for a moment forgetting about the nipple in his mouth that he was in the middle of teasing, when he felt your grip moving up and down his length just right, spreading the pre-cum over it, and he knew he cannot wait any longer. He raised up on his knees, taking the panties off your body and finally kicking away the rest of his clothes before he fell back over you. His face met yours in another passionate, wet kiss and you moaned into it, as he worked his fingers between your folds, bullying your tenderness shamelessly and forcing many more sweet whines and whimpers from your chest.

“Satoruuu”, you mewled and he grinned at the sound of his name coming from you. “Don’t tease me so much, please”, pleading, you tugged at his hair and he chuckled at the eagerness in your tone. But he knew how big he is and even sleeping with him regularly, he more often than not had to prepare you for the stretch that was Gojo Satoru. “Don’t wanna hurt you, yeah?”, he smiled, nipping at the sensitive skin of your neck, sucking softly at the pulse and you just wanted him inside, no matter the consequences. “I can take you”, you ensured, “please, ‘toru.”

And what kind of man would Satoru be if he denied a pretty lady what she wanted and if feeling the burn is what you truly desired, he was going to give it to you. Being desperate himself,he stroked his length few times more before he smeared the head along your soaked folds and aligned the tip at your entrance, already knowing he’s gonna see tears very soon. And he did – your cheeks dampened as the burning stretch paralyzed the nerves all along your body and the tearing pleasure waved over your entire existence. Satoru groaned low through his clenched teeth at how your velvety walls were squeezing around his shaft as he slowly bottomed out. “God, I love you so much,” he growled into your ear and your dead-grip on his shoulders softened, letting him know that he’s good to move so he dragged his hips back almost completely, engrossed with the way your tight pussy tried to suck him back. Hot wave rushed through your body, as he began thrusting slowly and purposefully, clawing at one of your hips to ground himself before he loses composure in the way your cunt swallowed him whole time after time. He supported his weight on the other hand on the armrest behind your head, and gven the access to his body, you allowed your hands to wander all over his well-build form, leaving scratches and crescent-moons here and there with your long nails. Your fingers moved on their own, subconsciously tracing over the familiar musculature, refreshing the memory of a body that was burned into your mind. A whimper left your mouth when Satoru rolled his hips into you quicker, picking up the pace gradually and it almost hurt how deep he reached, kissing every sensitive spot inside you and it made your mind go blank of anything that wasn’t him. You smoothed over his flexing biceps, squeezing it tightly when he adjusted the position of your hips to ram his own into them harder.

Smearing kisses along your jawline, Gojo tasted your skin with pleasured hums, drowning in divine feeling of your pretty cunt eagerly taking him in, listening to the whimpers and mewls intertwined with little I love you’s that slipped through your parted lips in breathy tones. Warmth began pooling below his stomach as he praised you for doing so well after such long time and you cried out a moan when his hips buckled up sharper and rougher. He was drunk in the godly presence that you were, intoxicating himself with everything that was you – your taste, the scent your delicate skin held, the image of your flushed cheeks glistening with tears that his size caused and those were the only tears he accepted on your face. Beautiful crystals of wetness gathering along your lashes as he split you open with the unforgivable pace he has set, pushing up against every sweet spot inside of you and making you lose every last bit of real-world connection.

Blissful daze suited you and Satoru couldn’t get enough of the sight of your fucked out expression, wearing the same one himself, as his pace stuttered due to the delightful series of twitches and flexes your pussy did around him. Your toes were curling, thighs shaking and it only made him go harder. In a messy cacophony of pants and whines, you managed to unknowingly call his name again and again, ridding Satoru of every last bit of clear-thinking as suddenly, he wanted to hear only that sweet sound of your breathless voice. The voice he’s been dreaming about for the last weeks.

His cock twitched and thickened inside of you, pressuring your sensitive walls even more as he collapsed on his elbow next to your ribcage, sliding his forearm below your arched back and reaching new angles as your hips rolled forward. His fingers curled over your soft flesh as he was slamming his pelvis into your own, his pace became messied, more rushed, as he felt your orgasm approaching. You creamed all over his shaft, the white gathering at the base of it, as your pussy tightened and squelched delightfully in waves. Your gaze was heavy and you couldn’t focus on where your hands were landing as you felt the bliss washing all over your figure. Your thighs were trembling, your nails run over Gojo’s back, leaving red marks that for sure will sting later and you held onto his shoulders for dear life when he picked up the tempo even more, chasing his own release. Smearing wet, open-mouthed kisses all over your chest, Gojo leaned into the dip above your collar bone, groaning and breathing heavily as in few more pushes, his orgasm snapped, rushing hot with his load spilling inside of you. You felt his teeth sinking into your skin right where your neck connected to the shoulder and you couldn’t help but moan once again at the new painful pleasure. His brute pace slowed down, becoming messy and languid and his body fell over you, weighing you down onto the couch. You wrapped your arms around him, keeping him from lifting up, not at all caring about his weight crashing your own. Last drops of his load were squeezed by your walls before he slowly pulled out, exhaling deeply against your skin and you laughed joyfully.

Your voice was tired, your entire body ached from the unexpected activity but you felt happy for the first time in a month, suddenly grateful for your friends to take you out that day. Satoru at first basked in the sound of your chuckle before he joined, overwhelmed by the blissful daze. Both of you were worn off, sticky and completely fucked out and yet deeply satisfied and although still far from good as a pair, it already was much better.

“Fuck, I love you so much”, Satoru breathed out, planting few soft, ghosting kisses over the imprint of his teeth that already began to bruise up, coloring your smooth complexion with reds and purples as the mark was blooming.

“Do you, uh-“, you started but voice died down your throat; you were terrified of an answer. Gathering the strength, you continued, “do you want to stay…? With me…?”

Satoru grinned handsomely as he lifted his head up and your sight met the crystalline blue gaze of his eyes. His white eyelashes fluttered when he blinked, mesmerizing you all over again with the magical look of his features, his cheeks still stained with the faint blissful flush and you looked at his face with hope. “Yes”, he finally spoke and you felt your heart banging against your ribcage, as if it wanted to jump through it and kiss him itself. “I want to stay with you. Forever.”

[thisonehere]

Caught

Summary: Bi-Han catches you spying on him bathing

A/n: alright, here you have it, the winner of my poll and might I say...you all are some pervs lol

This is a little late so I'm sorry for that.

Tags: NSFW, smut, poll winner

C/w: Reader being a perv, rough sex, overstimulation, Bi-Han gets sadistic

I-It wasn't supposed to be like this, you promise, you're not a pervert. You're not! Honest! Well, until today, that is.

You had gone into the Grandmaster's personal chambers to deliver a secretive intel sent by Sektor and entrusted to you to deliver it to Bi-Han. After the guards had let you, you found the room completely empty. You find it odd, you were told that he would be in here at this hour. "Grandmaster!" You call, looking this way and that for him. The room was empty, the grandmaster's large figure was nowhere in the room. So you did the best decision, you decided to snoop around.

For a grumpy and gruff man, the grandmaster sure had quite good taste in decoration. Porcelain vases, intricate wood carvings, rich fabrics everywhere, and so many other nice things. No doubt so many of these things were passed down from Bi-Han's father and his father and so on. So much of these things are old and filled with history. Cool. Anyway, you climb into his bed and start smelling his sheets. They smell nice...really nice. Just like how you often fantasized he might smell like if you ever got close enough.

As you embrace the scent, your ear picks something up, the sound of water running in the distance, behind a door. You climb off his bed and follow the sound and open the door. You slowly and carefully push the door back, it makes a slight creaking sound as you do. You pear inside and a gust of warm steam greeted your face. At that moment you realize that this is a bathhouse. Unlike the regular bathhouse that you shared with your fellow Lin Kuei, this was a private one for just the Grandmaster. Without much thought, you wonder inside.

You try to admire the place butt steam flows through the air making it almost impossible to see. But you manage to see one thing in the near distance, a shadowy figure just beyond a curtain. You take a few steps and part the curtains to get a better look, and you have to physically cover your mouth as you make out what it is. Bi-Han, lounging in a giant tub. Your heart skips a beat at the sight of the naked grandmaster. His eyes closed, a subtle smile on his face, his hair undone and cascading down his back in a wet mass, his bare and muscular body glistening from all the steam. It was a sight to behold. You stare at your grandmaster through the curtain, your mouth agape and your eyes enraptured.

Bi-Han looks so...so peaceful, happy even. Something you have never been used to, until now, the grumpy asshole who always wore a stern frown in his face is what you knew the grandmaster for. But you couldn't lie, something about always enchanted you, here, those features were on full display for you. You felt yourself melt as you admired your grandmaster, so handsome, so magnificent was he to behold that you felt like you could watch him for hours.

Without warning, Bi-Han stood up in his bath causing you to cover your mouth and stifle a squeak of surprise. Bi-Han took water from the bath rub himself with it. Your eyes stretched ten inches wide as Bi-Han's girthy rod flopped and his ass jiggled as he moved. You felt your mouth water at the sight of it. You felt like you were going to faint, so you closed the curtain for just a second to catch your breath. This was all too much, it was wrong too. Spying on your grandmaster as he bathes, spying on anyone as they bath, is a horrible thing.

But think about his smile, his body, everything about it, and you are surprised to find your body shiver. It is in your best interest to just leave and repent to any god that would listen. But it wouldn't hurt to just have one more peak, you think as you turn back to the curtain to get one last look before you left.

But as you part the curtain, Bi-Han is gone.

All you can do is stare in confusion at his sudden disappearance. Where could he have gone? Maybe he left, but where? How could he leave that quickly with you even hearing it? You sigh as you let the curtain close, perhaps this is for the best. You should be thankful that Bi-Han didn't walk out and find you being a pervert. You shiver this time in fear at what he would to you as punishment. Knowing him, it would have something brutal, and ensures that you suffer unimaginable ways. You're lucky indeed that he didn't catch you, even luckier that you had a chance to see him like this.

You smile warmly to yourself as you turn to leave. And there is Bi-Han standing behind you. You almost gasp, but that's interrupted as Bi-Han grabs you by the throat and suspends you off the ground with terrifying ease. Wet hair covered his furious face as water dropped down his body. "Grandmaster," you try to force out. "P-please, I can explain-ack!" Bi-Han's grip is so tight that you already feel yourself begin to lose consciousness. "You spied on me as I bath like a repulsive perversion! What could you possibly have to say for yourself!?" He barked, his once peaceful face now contorted into a disgusted sneer.

Bi-Han held you there for quite a few seconds, you just dangled there as you slowly began to lose consciousness. With a sigh, Bi-Han clears his grip on you, letting you plop to the ground with a harsh thud. You coughed and gagged as you tried to catch your breath. Your heart was racing so fast and your vision was blurred slightly. You stared up at Bi-Han who looked down at you like you were so nothing but something disgusting at the bottom of his shoe. You looked away from him in shame as you continued to catch your breath, trying to think of a way to get out of this. Something, anything, to get you out of here and avoiding your grandmaster's wrath.

But Bi-Han acts before you. After staring at you for some time, Bi-Han's expression changed, as if he just had an idea of what he would do to you. This terrified you. "Take off your clothes...and join me." Bi-Han ordered as he marched back into the tub, much to your shock. "What?" You asked so confused. "I don't understand, I-"

"Shut your disgusting mouth and obey your grandmaster!" He snapped at you, scaring you and causing you quickly throwing off your clothes to the point that you accidentally tore it slightly. In no time, you were sitting in the steaming bath tub with Bi-Han. His eyes were once again closed as he lounged back in the tub, the peaceful and almost happy look was back into his face. You just stared at him in fear, why was he so calm again? What was he about to do to you? You felt your heart beat against your chest as you stared at him in fear.

As the minutes passed it all felt like torture for you. What was he about to do to you? Why did he have you undress and bathe with him? Oh god, was he about to do something horrid to you? You agonize as you begin to fantasize about all the ways he might punish you. Maybe he was going to drown you here, what if he was going to the water board you? Though the water was warm, you shivered in fear. "You know, Y/n. I'm not surprised by this... I've noticed the way you looked at me." Bi-Han finally said, at this point you were so at the edge of your seat that even the sound of his voice scared you. "I won't deny it, I find something about you... cute, so perhaps I'll let you live." At this, you let out a sigh of relief. Perhaps things won't be so bad after all. "But not unpunished."

...

Maybe you spoke too soon.

You open your mouth to ask what he meant by that, Bi-Han stands up and wades through the water until he's standing over you, his cock in your face. You stare at it with an agape mouth. It's much bigger up close, as well as erect, ready and willing. Bi-Han stares down with a stern look, but there was sadistic glint in his eyes. "What are you staring at? Suck it."

---

Hours pass and Bi-Han spends them richly by making you do every last depraved thought that pops into his head. He fucks in every hole that you can offer him. He bites you, he slaps you, he even strangles you at some point...many points actually. He is merciless, your penance for spying on him. He has faced fucked you so many times that your sure that it'll take a long time to get the taste of his dick and his cum out of your mouth. Your body is dripping with his fluids as well as decorated with bruises, you could still feel his teeth marks on your neck and the imprint of his hand on your face and ass. He is so violent that you begin to cry, both from the pain and the pleasure that this pain caused, he laughs as your tears fall.

Right now? Bi-Han has you bent over the tub, his hand firmly grip at your hair, violently tugging at it as he slams into your poor abused hole. "Grandmaster!" You scream at the top of your lungs, your screams just encourage you to go faster, harder, making things worse and good for you. Both sweat and cum drips down your legs, hell, you could barely even feel your legs as he grinded into you. You feel your climax coming, no doubt his his close to, please let it be close. You don't know how much longer you can do this, you can feel your body slowly get number and number the more he fucks you. "Grandmaster, I-I going to." But Bi-Han interrupts you by quickly pulling out and shoving you to the floor. It all happens so fast that you don't have a second to react. Who knew the Grandmaster was so violent during sex?

He kneels beside, rubbing his cock, his other reaching down and start fondling your swollen hole. "Have you learned your lesson, Y/n?" You fearfully nod as you moan at his touch. You feel your entire body shiver as you climax. "Good " Bi-Han says with a growl, he begins rubbing hiscock faster. He grits his teeth as he finally cums, his hot seed explodes all over your face almost blinding you. "Clean me up, won't you dear?" At his urging, you begin to lick the cum off his dick, the bittersweet taste is something you think you'll never forget after today. "Good." He purred.

Satisfied, Bi-Han rose to his feet, grabbed a towel, and walked away as if nothing happened. Leaving you to catch your breath and regain your bearings. You're so worn out, so tired, you wondered if you could just crawl into Bi-Han's. He fucked you sore, the least he could do was let you sleep in his bed.

"Y/n," Bi-Han calls to you just before he leaves the room. "Yes, grandmaster?" You anxiously answered. "Next time, wear something nicer....easier to take off." He instructs calmly, but you felt you heart skip a beat again. "N-next time?" He turns to you and nods, a scary grin on his face. "Yes, your penance for this little incident. But don't you worry, I'll be gentle next time...perhaps." and with that he leaves you alone to collect your thoughts.