#she has other markings they are just hidden
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The swan Princess; Westeros Version.
Okay so, I can’t this out of my brain so just imagine this with me:
The reader-insert Targaryen Princess, the younger sister of Rhaenyra by about 16-17 years, and the second daughter of King Viserys and the late Queen Aemma x Lord Cregan Stark in a dynamic inspired by The Swan Princess.
Viserys and Rickon Stark arrange for the princess and Cregan to be wed once she comes of age. To build familiarity, they reunite them every few years (a rare moment of decency among men in House of the Dragon, but let's roll with it).
However, from a young age, they absolutely despise each other, setting the stage for a classic love-hate relationship.
Young fem Targ reader x young Cregan Stark.
Warnings: kids being kids.
The towering walls of Harrenhal surround you like sentinels, their dark history hidden beneath the banners of red and black for your name day celebration. It's your sixth name day, and the great hall is alive with music, laughter, and the scent of roasted meats. Nobles mill about in their finest, offering you warm smiles, expensive gifts and endless congratulations. You curtsy, thank them, and do all the things a proper princess should.
You’ve been told countless times how loved you are—how your bright smile and kind words can soften even the grumpiest lord. But the truth is, your feet ache from standing, your cheeks hurt from smiling, and you missed you sister Nyra, she couldn’t attend because she was about to give birth to her babe. You’re already planning your escape.
Your father’s voice pulls you from your thoughts.
“Come, sweetling,” King Viserys beckoned warmly, his hand resting gently on your shoulder. “There is someone I would have you meet.”
With his guiding presence, he led you across the hall to a man of imposing stature, his broad shoulders and solemn expression marking him unmistakably as a lord of the North—Lord Rickon Stark. Beside him stood a boy, perhaps a few years your elder, with a mane of dark curls and piercing grey eyes that seemed to observe the world with unnerving precision.
“Lord Stark, I trust your journey was swift and uneventful?” your father inquired with the easy grace of a king accustomed to courtesies.
Lord Rickon inclined his head in a deep bow, he straightened from his bow, his voice deep and steady, carrying the weight of northern formality.
“Your Grace, the journey was as kind as one could hope this time of year. The North sends its regards, and I am honored to stand in your presence once more. Thank you for the honor of hosting us.” He glanced at you and also bow, “May the princess’s name day bring joy to all who celebrate it.”
You smile politely, dipping into a curtsy. “Thank you, my lord. It’s a pleasure to meet you and your family.”
Rickon gestures to the boy at his side. “This is my son and heir, Cregan.”
Cregan steps forward, bowing stiffly. It’s obvious he’s not used to it. He’s taller than you expected, and there’s something about the way he holds himself that reminds you of the knights in your father’s court—serious, reserved, and trying far too hard to look older than he is.
“Princess,” he says in a deep, measured voice, “happy name day. I hope it has been a joyful celebration.”
You smile at him, tilting your head.
“Thank you, my lord. It has been lively.” Your tone is polite, but you can’t help teasing him a little. He seems so serious, like he’s never laughed a day in his life.
Your father turned to speak with Lord Rickin about something you honestly had no interest in. Instead you turn to the boy, the young Lord, Cregan Stark.
“Do you always speak like that?” you ask before you can stop yourself.
Cregan blinks, clearly taken aback. “Like what?”
“So formal,” you say with a grin. “Do you practice in front of a mirror?”
His ears turn red, but he doesn’t lose his composure. “It’s important to speak with respect,”
You’re about to tease him further when your father nudges you gently. You remember your manners and curtsy again, leaving Cregan to stare after you as you’re whisked away to greet the next guest.
Later that evening, after what feels like hours of endless conversation and feasting, you finally find your chance to slip away. The gardens outside Harrenhal are quiet and cool, a welcome escape from the noise of the hall. The moonlight dances on the fountains, and the scent of night-blooming flowers fills the air.
You’re wandering down a stone path when you spot him—Cregan Stark. He’s crouched under a tree, poking at the dirt with a stick.
“You’re not supposed to leave the hall,” you say, your sudden voice startling him.
He shoots to his feet, hastily brushing dirt off his tunic as though it might erase his guilt.
“Neither are you,” he counters, his tone careful yet edged with a hint of accusation.
You arch a brow, crossing your arms. “I’m the princess. I can do as I please.”
“That’s not true,” he retorts, his grey eyes narrowing as he mirrors your posture. “The king said the garden is off-limits.”
A sly smirk curls your lips, your lilac eyes gleaming with mischief. “Well, my father isn’t here, is he?”
Cregan’s frown deepens, his expression growing more serious. “If something happens to you, it’ll be my fault.”
Ignoring him, you take a step closer, letting your gaze drop to the stick he clutches. “What are you doing out here, anyway? Were you digging for treasure?”
His shoulders stiffen as he quickly moves the stick behind his back. “That’s none of your concern.”
Your grin widens, delighted at his discomfort. “So you were digging for something!”
“I wasn’t!” he insists, his ears tinged with a flush of embarrassment.
“Let me see,” you say, darting forward with a burst of energy and snatching the stick from his hand before he can react. You hold it aloft like a trophy, inspecting it with exaggerated curiosity. “What is this supposed to be?”
“It’s just a stick,” Cregan replies, his tone laced with exasperation, as if he couldn’t believe you were making such a fuss.
You tilt your head, pretending to examine it like it’s some ancient artifact. “Were you digging for dragon eggs? Gold, perhaps?”
His cheeks flush, and he glares at you. “Stop teasing me!”
But teasing him is far too entertaining to stop now. You smirk, twirling the stick.
“Or maybe you’re looking for a duel,” you say, taking a step back and mimicking a defensive stance you’d seen knights adopt in the courtyard during their sparring sessions.
Cregan raises an eyebrow at you, incredulous. “I’m not fighting a girl. And a princess, no less.”
You narrow your eyes at him, your grin growing wider. “Why not? Afraid, Stark?”
He bristles immediately, straightening his posture. “I am not afraid,”
“Really? Then prove it,” you challenge, tapping the stick against the ground like a knight preparing to strike.
Before he can respond, you jab the stick lightly at his side, making him jump. “Ow!”
You laugh as he lunges for the stick, easily sidestepping him.
“You're slow," you taunt, spinning the stick like you've seen the knights do.
It's far too big for your small hands, but you make it work, grinning all the while.
Cregan narrows his grey eyes, his jaw tightening.
"I'm not slow," he says, his voice low and deliberate.
"Prove it, then," you say with a smirk, backing away a step. "Show me what the great Stark of the north can do."
He hesitates, glancing down at the mud smudging his boots, as if weighing the consequences.
“It wouldn't be honorable," he says stiffly, his tone full of the self-importance you've come to expect from boys who think they're men.
You roll your eyes. "You're no fun, Stark. What's the point of being a lord if you can't even defend your honor from a girl with a stick?"
His cheeks flush redder. "It's not proper to fight a princess!"
"Then you'd better run," you say, raising the stick and charging at him.
Caught off guard, Cregan stumbles back, his hands flying up in defense.
“Stop that!" he growls, but you've already jabbed him lightly in the side.
"First blood!" you declare triumphantly, poking him again before he can react.
"That's enough!" he snaps, grabbing for the stick, but you dance out of reach, laughing all the while.
"Not until you admit l've bested you," you tease, circling him with the mock seriousness of a seasoned warrior.
"Never," he mutters, his brows drawing into a stormy line.
But you don’t stop. You jab him again, then again, each time with just enough force to make him flinch. His face turns red—not from pain, but from anger—and you can’t help but laugh at how easy it is to rile him up.
“That’s enough!” he snaps, lunging forward and grabbing for the stick. His sudden movement catches you off guard, and you stumble, the stick slipping from your grasp.
The two of you freeze for a moment, glaring at each other, breathing hard. Then, as if on cue, the tension explodes again, and the scuffle resumes, this time with both of you trying to wrestle control of the stick.
The tugging begins. You yank the stick one way, he pulls it back with equal force. The push and pull grows more intense with every second, the dirt beneath your feet slipping as you both struggle for control.
“Let go!” he growls through gritted teeth, his stance wide and firm.
“You let go!” you fire back, gripping the stick with all the determination of a dragon refusing to yield its hoard.
You yank the stick back with all the determination your small hands can muster, and Cregan pulls harder in retaliation. The scuffle becomes a tug-of-war, and with one final, unsteady pull, you both lose your footing.
You fall first, landing ungracefully on the grass. Thankfully, you’re spared the mud, but the same cannot be said for Cregan. He topples beside you, landing with a loud squelch in the wet muck.
For a moment, the garden is silent save for your uneven breaths. You push yourself up, brushing grass off your skirt, and glance at him. His tunic is streaked with mud, his hair tousled from the fall, and a dark streak smudges his cheek like a careless smear of war paint.
You press your lips together, trying to stifle it—but it’s no use. Laughter bursts out of you, uncontrollable and bright.
Cregan turns his head sharply, his grey eyes narrowing as he sits up stiffly.
“Why are you laughing?” His tone is formal, but there’s a sharp edge to it, his annoyance barely restrained.
You hold your sides, laughing harder at his expression.
“Because—” you manage between giggles, pointing at his face, “—because you look ridiculous! Like a pig in a mud pit!”
Cregan stiffens, his jaw tightening. “You are hardly in a position to jest, Princess. You’re the one sitting in the dirt!”
His words make you laugh even harder, and for a moment, it seems like he might let it go. But then his temper flares, and with deliberate precision, he scoops up a handful of mud.
Before you can react, the cold, wet clump splatters across the front of your gown. You gasp, your laughter replaced with sheer outrage gasp.
“You big brute!” you exclaim, rising to your knees. You scoop up your own handful of mud and hurl it back at him with all the righteous indignation of a wronged queen.
The mud hits his shoulder, leaving a dark smear on the fine fabric of his tunic. His eyes widen, and for a moment, he looks genuinely shocked. Then his lips press into a thin line, and he glares at you with all the gravity an eight-year-old can muster.
He grabs another handful of mud, flinging it with far more force this time. You shriek as it lands on your sleeve, and without hesitation, you retaliate.
The garden becomes your battleground. Mud flies through the air as you dodge and lunge, your giggles ringing out as Cregan growls in frustration. He tries to maintain his formality even as he hurls clumps of dirt at you.
“Your behavior is unbefitting of a princess!” he calls, though the mud streaking his face makes him look anything but dignified.
“And yours is no better for a lord!” you reply gleefully, tossing another clump that narrowly misses him.
By the time your attendants arrive, the scene they stumble upon is one of complete chaos. You’re both caked in mud from head to toe, your gown a ruined mess, and his tunic utterly unrecognizable.
“Your highness!” one of your handmaidens exclaims, rushing forward. “What in the name of the Seven happened here?”
“She attacked me!” Cregan says immediately, straightening his posture despite the mud dripping from his hair.
“You threw the first mud!” you counter, pointing at him with a haughty tilt of your chin.
The attendants exchange exasperated looks as they pull you both to your feet, fussing over the state of your clothes and muttering about what your fathers will say when they see this.
#house of the dragon x you#house of the dragon fanfic#house of the dragon#house of the dragon x reader#viserys targaryen#deamon targaryen#cregan x reader#cregan stark#hotd cregan#cregan fanfiction#cregan x you#rhaenyra x reader#rhaenyra targaryen#alicent hightower x reader#aegon ii targaryen#aegon targaryen x reader#helena targaryen
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SECRET FOR ONE YEAR
Ollie Bearman X Russell!fem!reader
Summary: When Ollie and Y/n have been dating for almost one year, the only person who doesn't know yet is George. Y/n's older brother.
Words: 5.3K+
Warnings: Romance, secret dating, appearance of George and Carmen (I love Carmen🥹), conversations about sex, and women's conversations hahaha.
Author: English is not my first language, so apologies for any spelling, grammar and slang mistakes that may be in the story. This story came to me when I was having insomnia, but I decided to write it the next day.
MASTERLIST
Ollie Bearman and Y/n Russell had a quiet romance, hidden from the view of the media and, more importantly, Y/n's brother, George.
From the beginning, the idea of a relationship between her and Ollie seemed complicated, considering the rivalry between him and George on the F1 tracks. The Mercedes driver was a kind, understanding and friendly man, and she knew he would treat Ollie well, but still the fear of telling her older brother lingered in her mind.
They held their meetings in discreet places and away from the eyes of paparazzi, avoiding any type of public exposure.
The Russell and Bearman families knew about this romance, even Carmen, George's girlfriend, and they helped keep up appearances, avoiding any gesture or word that could reveal anything about the relationship.
Poor George, he was oblivious to this. Thinking that Y/n was going to her best friends' house from college every time she caught a flight. But the truth was, she was going to spend a few days at Ollie's house in London. Poor George.
A year passed, and they kept their relationship a secret. There were also days when some fans were suspicious, but Y/n told her brother that it was just rumors, nothing much. The poor pilot believed it, because Y/n and Ollie had been close friends for years.
That's what he thought.
Ollie didn't pressure his girlfriend to tell the world or her brother, he understood Y/n's concerns and supported her with sweet and comforting words.
Sure, he wanted to shout from the rooftops that Y/n Russell was the love of his life. But he also enjoyed the peace they had away from the spotlight.
The day was cold and cloudy. Y/n was at her older brother's house, having girl time with Carmem. Y/n talked about how her relationship with Ollie was going, while the eldest gave advice and listened attentively to her younger sister-in-law.
The relationship between Y/n and Carmem has always been marked by a remarkable closeness. Ever since Carmem started dating George, Y/n felt comfortable opening up to her, even in the most difficult times. They laughed together, shared secrets and, most importantly, always knew how to give each other space when needed. It was a friendship built on mutual trust.
Y/n was lying on George and Carmem's big bed, with her feet covered in a sock and resting on the headboard, relaxing while her sister-in-law was sitting in the armchair, concentrating on painting her nails, with a skincare mask on her face, just like Y/n.
The two were enjoying a rare moment of tranquility, away from the stresses of everyday life and their boyfriends' Formula 1 events.
"You know... sometimes I feel like telling George about my relationship," she begins, and Carmen looks up, looking at her sister-in-law lying on the bed. "I feel sorry for Ollie, I keep the relationship a secret because of my brother and not because of the media, and I feel like he wants to show everyone that we're together. But... it seems like I won't let him, you know?"
Y/n turns to Carmen, looking at her with slightly teary eyes. Carmen tries not to laugh, even though the subject was serious, Y/n looked funny with that pink mask on her face.
"Look, honey. I understand the weight you carry." Carmen says. "You can talk more and I know Ollie will understand what you want right now. And when the time is right, you can tell George. I know he loves and protects you a lot as your big brother, but he wants to see you happy too, just like Ollie. I see the love the pilot has for you, and I know he's willing to do whatever you decide."
Y/n turns her head to her and smiles, sniffling a little. "Oh, what I would be without you, Carmen!"
Carmem smiles sweetly and goes back to painting her nails.
Y/n turned her gaze to the wall in front of her, while wiggling her toes absentmindedly, her hands were inside the pocket of the sweatshirt she was wearing.
Carmen sees how she thinks about something, and bites her lower lip. "Y/n, what are you thinking about now?" She asks teasingly.
The girl lets out a little laugh and looks at her sister-in-law. "Oh, I don't know how to tell you this...it's kind of...embarrassing...I guess." Y/n takes her hands out of her pocket and begins to peel off the nail polish, shyly.
Carmen frowns and looks curiously at the youngest. "Hey, you can trust me! You know!"
Y/n rolls a little in bed to face her sister-in-law, but doesn't realize she was right on the edge, almost falling. A sudden movement and she ends up on her back on the floor.
"It's just that Ollie and I..." She laughs awkwardly. "You see... we slept together for the first time last week..." She says quietly, but Carmen hears and smiles, her eyes widening a little.
"What? Like, in a way-" Carmen doesn't finish, because Y/n interrupts.
"NO!" She says loudly. "Well, yes. No, but...damn." She tries to explain herself and Carmen laughs. "I mean, we slept together in a real sleeping way. You know." Y/n explains. "But also, you know, we've slept together that other way..." She feels her cheeks grow hot, confessing this to someone.
No one knew, however, Y/n was embarrassed to tell her mother. Not that she would fight, but you see, she would be talking about sex with the woman who raised her.
"So? Can I ask how you felt?"
Y/n smiles embarrassedly. "The first time is weird, isn't it?! But I have to say it was good... he was good..." She searches for the right words, taking some time to think better. "It was kind... He respected the moment and everything" She turns around smiling.
Carmem smiles, still focused on her nails. "Ah, that was cute!"
Y/n rolls her eyes laughing, looking back at the wall.
"You know you can trust me. I can give you tips on how to-"
Y/n interrupts her, blushing from having spent too much time on that subject. "Thanks! That's weird coming from you, because you're dating my brother. But coming from a woman to a woman, I take the advice."
Carmem laughs softly. "Was it the first time for both of you?" She asks, we try to help Y/n with the question.
Before Y/n could respond, something interrupts.
"First time of what?" George says loudly, startling Y/n, making her turn around quickly and fall off the bed in fright. Her back makes a loud bang on the floor.
"Holy shit" she curses under her breath, placing her hands behind her back for falling on her sneakers. That would definitely leave a bruise later.
"Are you okay?" George asked worriedly as he watched his sister get up. Carmen across the room was holding back a laugh.
"I am." Y/n grimaces. "But it was your fault, you scared me!" She jokes, making George roll his eyes.
"Hey, it's not my fault if you were telling a secret against me and got scared by my arrival" He raises his hands laughing. Y/n exchanges a look with Carmen, who had a smile on her face.
"Funny you" Y/n sits on the bed. And George laughs.
••••••••••••••••••••••
Days passed, and the Monza Grand Prix finally arrived. The atmosphere was full of energy, with fans cheering and teams busy making final adjustments for free practice. Y/n took advantage of her break from university to watch the race up close. It was rare to be able to watch her boyfriend and her brother at the same time, but this dynamic had its price: secrecy.
In the Mercedes VIP lounge, Y/n was comfortably seated in one of the armchairs, her eyes fixed on her cell phone. She was wearing a casual but elegant Mercedes outfit, which went unnoticed among the luxury of the area.
To George, it seemed like his sister was just there to support him like she always did: wearing a T-shirt with their last name and a team cap. He would never suspect the real reason behind her presence.
Ollie Bearman.
As she was scrolling through her phone, she heard footsteps entering the room. Instinctively, she looked up and froze. There was Ollie, with that unmistakable smile that always made her heart beat faster.
"Hey, my love-" She could have sworn the nickname came out louder than they expected.
Y/n's eyes widened immediately, putting her finger to her lips and frantically gesturing with her hands for him to stop talking. Before she could react further, the side door of the room opened again, and George walked out of his private room with a friendly smile.
“Ah, Ollie!” George greeted, extending his hand to the Haas driver. Ollie, who had also been frozen for a moment, quickly composed his expression and shook George’s hand.
"Hey, George! How are you?" He replied, his voice slightly hesitant, but still friendly.
"Of course! What brings you to our room?" George asked, clearly curious but kind.
Y/n held her breath, trying to look distracted by her cell phone, while her eyes moved to follow the scene.
Thinking quickly, she looked up and replied, "Oh, I called you! I thought we could take a walk around the paddock before practice starts. You know, catch up."
George seemed pleased with the answer, as he knew how great friends they had been since the younger driver was in F2.
He nodded. "Good idea! It's a great day for a walk."
As Y/n stood up, Carmem entered the room with a calm smile. She walked towards the coffee machine, but when she saw Ollie and Y/n together, she gave her sister-in-law a knowing look, which she hid as much as possible. Carmem clearly knew what was happening, but she wouldn't say anything.
As Y/n walked past her brother to leave, holding her cell phone, George frowned slightly when he noticed something in her hand.
"Hey, I never noticed before. Nice ring, Y/n!" He commented, casually pointing to the discreet wedding band she wore on her finger.
For a moment, silence filled the room. Ollie froze in place, while Y/n felt her cheeks grow hot. Carmem almost choked on her coffee, but George, innocent as always, didn't understand anything wrong in the atmosphere.
"Oh, thank you!" Y/n said quickly, trying to sound natural. "Our mother gave it to me the other day. I thought it was pretty and decided to use it,"
"You have good taste," George replied with a smile, before turning to Carmen, who was trying to contain her laughter.
Y/n took advantage of the moment to pull Ollie by the arm and leave. They hurried across the paddock, trying not to attract curious glances. As soon as they found a more secluded corner, away from the hustle and bustle, Ollie grabbed her hand, gently pulling her closer.
Before she could say anything, he surprised her with a passionate kiss. Y/n smiled against his lips, feeling the warmth of his arms around her. When they pulled away, Ollie had a mischievous glint in his eyes.
"So it was your mother who gave you that beautiful ring?" He joked, chuckling softly.
Y/n rolled her eyes, but couldn't help but laugh. "It was the first thing that came to my mind, okay? And it worked, didn't it?"
Ollie caressed her face, his gaze full of affection. "You're amazing, you know that? Even when we're in danger of getting caught, you think quickly."
Y/n bit her lip, looking away for a moment. "I was thinking... I think it's time to tell G. I don't want to hide it from him anymore. He'll understand when I tell him, right?"
Ollie nodded, squeezing her hands lightly. "Of course he will!" He smiled. "I'll do whatever you decide, love. No matter what happens, we face it together. Always."
Those words made Y/n smile, her eyes shining with emotion. She hugged him tightly, feeling grateful to have him by her side. "Thank you for being so understanding. I don't know what I would do without you."
"You won't have to find out," he replied, kissing the top of her head with a smile.
They stayed there for a few more minutes, enjoying the moment away from the watchful eyes of the paddock and exchanging soft caresses and vows of love.
Time passed, and the paddock was buzzing with activity. Drivers were milling around, some focused on practice and others engaged in casual conversation. George, still sweaty from his practice session, came out of the Mercedes garage, surveying the surroundings. Soon, he spotted Ollie chatting animatedly with Leclerc, Piastri and Antonelli.
Ollie gestured as he laughed at something, his hand resting on an iron barrier next to the group. George, distracted, fixed his eyes on the Haas driver. It was then that she noticed something glowing on his finger.
A ring. He frowned, feeling a slight sense of déjà vu. The ring was surprisingly similar to the one he had seen on Y/n’s hand earlier.
"It can't be..." He muttered to himself. He shook his head, trying to push the thought away.
Maybe it was just a coincidence, he thought. But the idea lingered in his mind as he walked back to the VIP room.
Upon entering, he saw Y/n standing on the balcony, holding a cup of coffee while watching the movement on the dance floor. The afternoon light reflected on her hair, and George felt a wave of nostalgia at seeing her there so calmly. It was hard to believe that his little sister, who he always wanted to protect, was growing up.
"Are you enjoying your day, Y/n?" He asked casually.
"Yes, everything is so busy today," she replied, without taking her eyes off the track.
George walked past her, but couldn’t help but look at her hand again. The same ring. He frowned again, but didn’t comment.
Instead, he looked around, searching for Carmen. "Have you seen Carmen? I didn't find her in the Mercedes hospitality room?" He asked, crossing his arms.
Y/n finished her coffee, placing the empty cup on the nearby table. "No, I didn't see her. Maybe she's in the paddock or talking to someone," she said, already starting to walk towards the exit.
George tried to call Carmen, but the call didn't go through. "Damn, my phone's dead." He stopped and looked at Y/n. "Can I use your phone? I need to try to talk to her."
Y/n, who already had her hand on the door, turned around with a casual smile. "Sure, here." She took her cell phone out of her pants pocket and handed it to her brother without hesitation. "You can use it as you please." She said as she told him the phone's password.
George thanked her as Y/n left, oblivious to what he was going to do next. With his phone in hand, he unlocked it with the intention of going to the dialer, but the first thing he saw was the messages tab open. He was about to close it when something caught his eye. At the top of the contact list was the name.
'Mi amore❤️'
Reflexively, he stopped, frowning again. Mi amore? The heart emoji was hard to ignore. Curiosity got the better of him, and he opened the chat. What he saw stopped him cold.
The messages were clearly between Yin and Ollie. There were pictures of them in the messages he quickly passed along. Conversations full of affection, inside jokes, and even some passionate confessions.
George didn't need to read much to understand what was going on. Y/n and Ollie...? The penny started to drop. The ring. The smiles. The discreet behavior of both. Everything made sense now.
As George absorbed the shock, Y/n walked around the paddock casually. From afar, she saw Ollie leaning against one of the barriers, waiting for her.
He smiled as soon as he saw her, that warm smile that always made Y/n feel special. She quickened her steps, and when they got close to each other, Ollie opened his arms, as if he wanted to hug her, but stopped when he remembered the public setting.
"Hi, mi amore" he said quietly, a sparkle in his eyes.
"Hi," she replied with a shy smile, looking around to make sure no one was paying attention to them.
The two began walking together, towards the paddock cafeteria, trying to keep the conversation casual while enjoying the rare moment of being together.
Meanwhile, in the VIP room, George was still holding Y/n's cell phone, his eyes fixed on the screen, completely surprised and trying to decide what to do with that information.
He barely noticed when Carmen entered the VIP room, smiling happily. But as soon as she noticed her boyfriend's pale, dazed gaze fixed on Y/n's phone, her smile disappeared.
"George? What's wrong?" She asked, concern evident in her voice.
He shook his head slowly, as if he was still trying to organize his thoughts. "I... I need to find Y/n," he said, his voice a little hoarse.
Carmen immediately noticed the phone in his hand and her eyes widened. "George... is that your sister's phone?" He looked at the device and then at his girlfriend, hesitantly. "Oh my God..." She murmured when she saw the wallpaper and the accessories that indicated that it belonged to Y/n.
Carmen sighed deeply, placing her hand on her forehead. He had figured it out.
Without another word, George hurried off, nervously walking around the paddock looking for Y/n. He barely noticed the glances that some of the team members were throwing his way. All he wanted was answers.
As he walked, something caught his attention. Chatter and laughter came from behind one of the garages. He stopped, recognizing Y/n's soft chuckle. Following the sound, George walked around the structure, only to find the scene of Y/n and Ollie, their backs to him, sharing a kiss and laughing together.
"Y/n?" George called, his voice firm but filled with surprise and a hint of frustration.
The two instantly pulled away, Y/n reflexively pushing Ollie away. She stared at her brother with wide eyes, while Ollie seemed frozen, trying to think of something to say.
"You don't have to move away" George said, holding up Y/n's phone. "I already know."
Y/n felt her heart sink in her chest. Ollie looked at her, worried. George continued, "When I went to call Carmen, her contact list was open. I saw the messages."
Y/n and Ollie stood completely still, as if time had stopped. Finally, George took a deep breath and asked, "How long have you two been together?"
Hesitantly, Y/n exchanged a look with Ollie before replying quietly, "A year..."
George's eyes widened, running his hands through his hair in frustration. "A YEAR?! Why didn't you guys tell me?"
Y/n stepped forward, trying to explain herself. "George, I... I thought it would be awkward for you. You and Ollie are racing rivals. I didn't want it to affect your work or our relationship as brothers."
He dropped his arms, frustration giving way to quiet sadness. "Did you really think that would make me treat you differently? That I would put this above your happiness?"
Y/n felt a lump in her throat, but managed to shake her head. "I was afraid... of disappointing you."
George closed his eyes for a moment, absorbing those words. "What about the families? Do they know?" He asked, already imagining the answer.
Reluctantly, Y/n nodded. "Yes... everyone knew but you. I'm sorry, George. It was never our intention to exclude you."
He sighed, shaking his head as he processed everything. "I understand," he said finally. "I understand that you wanted to protect things. But... it hurts me to know that you felt you couldn't trust me. You're my sister, Y/n. I will always want the best for you."
Y/n, moved, gave a small smile. "Thank you for understanding." George hugs his sister.
The Mercedes driver stepped closer, his eyes softening. He looked at Ollie, extending his hand. "Congratulations on your relationship... really."
Ollie, surprised, shook George's hand. "Thank you, George. That means a lot."
But then George narrowed his eyes and pointed a finger at him, his tone becoming more serious though there was a hint of teasing. "Now, listen carefully. Take good care of my sister, Ollie. Because if you don't, things are going to get ugly for you."
Ollie laughed nervously, scratching the back of his neck. "Don't worry. I'm taking good care of her."
Y/n smiled, feeling the weight she was carrying finally dissipate. George, seeing the scene, gave a genuine smile and added, "Just please don't give me nephews TOO SOON, okay?"
The comment made Y/n blush and Ollie laugh, completely breaking the tension. "No rush, George" Ollie replied, winking at Y/n.
George shook his head, laughing along. He handed his phone to his sister, patted Ollie on the back, and walked away, looking more at ease.
Once they were alone, Ollie turned to Y/n, an amused smile on his face. "I thought he was going to freak out, but he was pretty calm... for a protective older brother."
Y/n laughed, feeling relieved. "I thought so too. I think he trusted you more than I expected him to."
Ollie put an arm around her shoulders. "Well, at least now we don't have to hide anymore."
She nodded, looking at him fondly. "Yes. Finally."
#fanfiction#y/n#imagines#lovers#one shot#formula 1#formula one#fem reader#ollie bearman x reader#imagines ollie bearman#ollie bearman
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i was thinking about mizuki's gender being listed as unknown again and how everyone else has an explicit mention. people tried to point at that to say she's either not trans OR that she isn't a tgirl (instead a different kind of trans) at some point, but i think that… actively misunderstands the internal intent of the game. like this was done so people wouldn't assume she's a cis girl and i also think there's an active intent in noting that, but not wanting to say "gender = male" bc this would be misgendering (duh) and for a character who's burying so much of her gender struggles bc of how others deny it, i think it makes sense. there's a struggle, i think, in writing and exploring trans narratives that engage with that… question? idk. maybe it would be better if she was just noted as female from the start and i think she's overdue for that especially after ena5, but i also think there's so much nuance in how she's portrayed that i see saying her gender is "?" isn't meant to actually be a declaration of her gender or meant for the reader to question what her gender is.
in many cases, trans girls are already automatically shunted into that expectation of either a fetish or wish fulfillment (which in many ways are the same thing at a certain point) and that's the conceit of her introduction in the main story in terms of how everyone treats her as an exhibition at school - she's fetishistically mythologized and vilified as an Other type of girl, which is something she tries to reclaim by hiding behind the facade of the Mysterious Manic Pixie Dream (Cis) Girl when she's around niigo bc it's the only way she feels like she can be with them without imposing on them or getting close enough to them to the point of having to reveal her secret due to her desire to avoid being hurt. it's wild to me that the consensus in the past about her was that she's anything but a trans girl when the treatment she's subjected to at the school is textbook transmisogyny and this is something we see immediately in the main story.
people are constantly fetishizing her and treating her like an object to be ogled at. she's constantly under the threat of violence. even when she puts so much work into pushing back just through being full of energy and looking "past" it all, they never stop. there's nothing she can do about a society that refuses to recognize her as a person, much like mafuyu can't do anything to change her own mother.
at most she gets told by others that this person is "just not used to her yet". terrible implications all around bc she's made to feel as though people are just putting up with her existence instead of making the effort to understand something that should be simple about who she is, which makes her feel terrible after she's put so much effort into both explaining herself and making herself as palatable as possible?
i think there are some valid criticism to be raised about how marking mizuki as "unknown" and how it might've contributed to people writing her off as "neither a girl nor boy" and the unfortunate parallels with degendering/third sexing therein. if i were to engage in good faith, i'd say the intent is draw attention to mizuki's gender struggles and make the reader interrogate that (and then ideally arriving at the answer being that she's a trans girl), but i still stand by my take that ena5 should've had her refer to herself as a girl explicitly to reclaim the way she was outed previously. it also always felt like the equivalent of mafumom being 'hidden' due to mafuyu's perception of her as a figure of authority rather than a person until kanade saw her for the awful person she is. in this case mizuki's "unknown" is also meant to tie into her own internalized transmisogyny (e.g. referring to herself as an artificial flower in many songs). mizuki herself plays into the degendering she's been subjected to for her entire life in many ways … we know that in the beginning of high school she actually made effort to explain herself to others and they didn't get it? she presumably said that she's a trans girl but she wasn't taken seriously. now she just finds it exhausting to explain anything and she doesn't want to feel like she constantly has to prove that a trans girl is just a type of girl so she's just like "that's me. i do this bc i wanna be me. this is the person i am, why the hell do you think i would do this, why would i dress this way, why would I put up with people like you if it wasn't obvious." i think there's also a lot we can engage with in terms of the presentation of mizuki which is wholly under her own control vs that which is outside of her control... mizuki finds comfort in niigo and connecting with girls over discord bc she can rewrite her life in such a way to as to obscure her own transness like when she narrates her backstory. the fact that the details of her trauma are so carefully hidden carries a strong intent bc it reads as mizuki's renarrativization due to not wanting to get too much into detail about her own trauma? it feels very meta considering mizuki's genre saviness and the fact that most transfeminine narratives tend to indulge in transmisogynistic violence in really voyeuristic ways... we know mizuki had numerous traumatic coming out moments and i think there's so much to read into the ambiguity around this... she's frankly constantly under the treat of SA as well as a trans girl, but i just appreciate that this is something the writing treats respectfully and affords her so much dignity. to be trans in many contexts is to be expected to give over so much of yourself to people who frequently won't care, won't actually understand how much of yourself you're giving over, and will actively rewrite your narrative to define who you are for you based on their own prejudices… and mizuki communicates that well bc she's allowed to be almost wholly in control of her presentation and her narrative.
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Under a grey sky
Bonus part
Older men oc x fem!reader
Reader has a shy character in this story and is in his twenties
Music to listen to for the atmosphere: DtMF_bad Bunny
Debí tirar más fotos de cuando de tuve. Debi darte más besos y abrazos. Las veces que pude...
Translation : I should have taken more photos of when I had it. I should have given you more kisses and hugs. The times I could. (ᗒᗩᗕ)
Sensitive souls please refrain. Sensitive subject. Death, cancer. I'm not making fun of anything. I'm just writing a story. As they say on Wattpad : I am responsible for what I write, you are responsible for what you read
..................................................................................
It was an evening like any other. The sky was overcast, threatening to rain. Y/n, apprentice baker, was finishing her day. She had spent hours crafting chocolate éclairs and apple tarts, her mind lost in the dream of owning her own bakery. But that night, her thoughts wandered. Too absorbed in calculating her savings, she hadn’t noticed the man crossing at a poorly lit street corner.
The screech of brakes. A thud.
Horrified, Y/n hurriedly got out of her small car. The man on the ground was still breathing, but a thin cut marked his forehead. She immediately called for help, her voice trembling with panic.
Armand opened his eyes in the hospital, disoriented. A dull ache pulsed through his head, and bandages covered his face. Yet what caught his attention was the young woman sitting by his bedside. Y/n was curled up in a chair, nervously twisting a tissue in her hands.
“You’re awake… I’m so sorry,” she murmured, her pleading eyes fixed on him.
Armand, a 39-year-old interior architect, looked at her curiously. Despite the pain, a faint smile appeared on his lips.
“Don’t worry… It’s nothing serious.”
“Nothing serious? I ran you over…”
“And yet, you’re here watching over me,” he replied lightly, trying to reassure her.
Y/n flushed deeply, but he continued, his gaze gentle:
“Go home. I’m fine, I promise.”
She hesitated but eventually obeyed. Yet the image of his comforting smile remained etched in her mind.
A few weeks later, as Y/n was decorating pastries in the bakery where she worked, the doorbell chimed. She glanced up briefly to greet the customer, but her gaze quickly returned to the tart she was preparing.
“Hello,” said a familiar voice.
She abruptly looked up. Standing before her was Armand, well-dressed, his bright smile hiding the slight scar on his forehead. She didn’t recognize him immediately.
“Do you have croissants?” he asked with a disarming ease.
“Yes, of course. Just a moment,” she replied, turning toward the display.
As she placed the croissants in a paper bag, he observed her with a hidden tenderness. She seemed more at ease here, in a world that felt made for her.
“You have a real talent,” he said suddenly.
Y/n blinked, surprised by the remark.
“Thank you… But how can you tell?”
“It’s obvious,” he said warmly. “I can see it in your movements.”
She blushed again, uncomfortable with such a sincere compliment.
Armand became a regular customer. Every morning, he stopped by for a coffee or pastry, finding excuses to exchange a few words with Y/n. He was interested in her work, her dreams.
“So, you want to open your own bakery?” he asked one day, taking a bite of a financier she had made.
She nodded timidly.
“Yes… But it’s still a long way off. I need to save, learn, and find the right place.”
“You’ll make it,” he said with conviction.
His encouragements touched her, but she never dared to ask him personal questions. She was too shy to dig deeper. Meanwhile, Armand found himself increasingly fascinated by her. Her passion, her reserve, and even her clumsiness made him smile.
One evening, as he worked on an architectural project in his office, Armand found his thoughts drifting. He realized he looked forward to seeing her every morning. But he couldn’t ignore the age gap between them.
“She’s in her twenties,” he murmured to himself. “She has so much to live, so much to discover.”
Yet he couldn’t deny the emotions growing within him. Every smile, every exchanged word gave him a thrill he hadn’t felt in years.
One day, as he waited in line at the bakery, he placed a book on the counter. It was a French pastry manual, thick and adorned with vibrant photos.
“For you,” he said with a smile.
Y/n stared at him, puzzled.
“Why…?”
“Because I believe in your dreams,” he said simply.
She clutched the book to her chest, moved by his gesture.
“Thank you… It’s… it’s a lot.”
For the first time, she looked up at him and held his gaze a little longer. An invisible butterfly stirred in Armand’s stomach.
Their relationship evolved slowly, like dough rising under a damp cloth. Y/n found herself waiting for his visits, listening for the bell to chime. Armand, for his part, took his time, respecting her pace, admiring every facet of her personality.
One day, as they shared a brioche fresh from the oven, he softly murmured:
“Y/n… You’re like this brioche.”
She looked at him, confused.
“What do you mean?”
“You’re soft. And… you bring a warmth that isn’t always noticed at first, but it lingers long after.”
She blushed, lowering her eyes, but this time, she didn’t look away completely.
It was the beginning of a fragile yet sincere love, built on glances, gestures, and shared dreams. A love that, like a good pastry, required patience and care.
---
Weeks Passed, but Armand’s Ambition Remained Intact
Weeks went by, but Armand’s ambition remained unshaken. He was a determined man, always immersed in his work, pushing his limits day after day. His architectural projects consumed more of his life than he cared to admit, and every minute of inaction felt like wasted time. Yet deep inside, something grew stronger every time he crossed paths with Y/n: love.
But he was caught in a spiral. He saw their age difference as an undeniable obstacle he couldn’t ignore. He didn’t want Y/n to get lost in a relationship that, in his mind, had no future. She was young, full of dreams, and he… he was already in a different phase of life. He had made choices, sacrificed moments of leisure to achieve his goals.
One evening, after an especially long day, Armand went to the bakery as usual, hoping for a light conversation, a little comfort in Y/n’s small gestures. But something wasn’t right. The stress of his job, his grueling hours, the constant pressure, and lack of sleep weighed heavily on him. He entered the bakery, heading toward the counter, his tired gaze fixed on her.
“Hello,” she said softly, a shy smile on her lips as always. She didn’t know he’d had an especially difficult day.
“I need a coffee, strong,” he murmured, his tone sharper than he intended.
She looked at him for a moment, surprised by the coldness in his voice. But she didn’t respond, simply preparing his order with calm concentration. When she handed him the cup, their hands brushed briefly, and he felt a dull tension rise within him. She was so gentle, so calm. She seemed worlds away from his own turmoil.
“Are you okay?” she asked, her voice tinged with concern.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. He didn’t want to talk about his job, his frustrations. But instead of responding, his words came out more abruptly than he intended.
“Why do you always worry about everyone? Don’t you have anything better to do? It’s not your job to take everything on yourself.”
She flinched, her eyes widening at his harsh tone. He immediately realized his mistake, but he couldn’t seem to regain control of the situation. He had acted impulsively, without thinking. The fatigue and stress had overridden his usual gentleness.
Y/n remained silent, her gaze lowering. She didn’t know what to say, but the hurt was clear on her face. Normally so understanding, so kind, she now felt deeply wounded.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured after a long pause. “I… I just wanted to offer you a little… comfort.”
He looked at her, ashamed of his words. He shouldn’t have spoken to her like that, but his nerves were frayed. Watching her retreat in silence made his heart ache.
The next morning, Armand arrived at the bakery earlier than usual, his mind tormented by the events of the previous evening. He had spent the night reflecting on his behavior, knowing he owed her an apology. But seeing her behind the counter, arranging the morning pastries, he realized he couldn’t bear to hurt her any further.
He waited for her to look up at him. When she finally did, he approached cautiously, a bit hesitant.
“Y/n… I’m sorry about yesterday. I was… I was overwhelmed, and I shouldn’t have acted that way.”
She didn’t respond immediately, and he saw doubt flicker in her eyes. He knew his words had deeply hurt her, and the thought gnawed at him.
“It wasn’t about you,” he added, his tone calmer, almost gentle. “It’s just… it’s hard for me to balance everything I need to do.”
She looked at him for a moment, then lowered her gaze, as if his apology wasn’t enough to erase the sting of his behavior. But instead of retreating into her usual silence, she offered a small gesture of understanding.
“I understand,” she said softly, but with a gentleness that instantly eased his heart. “It’s just… sometimes, we forget to rest. And that hurts you too, doesn’t it?”
Armand stood in silence for a moment, surprised by her insight. He hadn’t thought about it that way. He had been so absorbed in his work that he hadn’t realized how much the tension was hurting him from the inside.
“Yes,” he said after a pause, his voice rougher than he intended. “Sometimes, I’m so focused on what I want to accomplish that I forget to stop, to breathe.”
She nodded slightly, a timid smile brushing her lips. She understood what it meant to be swept up in dreams and ambitions, forgetting to care for oneself.
That evening, Armand went home replaying their conversation in his mind. He knew he was still far from understanding everything that was happening between him and Y/n. But one thing was clear: he loved her, and he didn’t want her to suffer because of his own shortcomings.
He also knew he had to change. Not for her. But for himself. And perhaps, in that process, they could learn to understand and love each other in a healthier, gentler way. Because Y/n deserved to be cherished, with no room for anger or exhaustion.
And for the first time in a long while, he wondered if finding balance between his dreams and his feelings was the true key to his happiness.
---
Armand’s project had consumed every fiber of his being. For months, he had poured his heart and soul into it, investing his time, ideas, and ambitions. He had imagined, designed, and created with the hope that his work would finally be recognized. He knew the moment was approaching—the moment his project would be unveiled to the public, the moment his name would finally be associated with success. And that moment came.
But it wasn’t what he had envisioned.
The day the project was praised, with critics unanimously lauding its quality, Armand felt a strange coldness seep into him. It wasn’t pride. Nor elation. It was emptiness. A void. His superior, someone who hadn’t contributed a single idea, had taken all the glory. His name shone in the headlines, while Armand’s was nowhere to be found.
He was devastated. And yet, he felt nothing. No anger. No frustration. Only an endless fatigue, a deep exhaustion.
He wanted to scream, to overturn everything around him, but his muscles were paralyzed. He couldn’t even move. He couldn’t scream. His mind was blank, as if everything he had lived, everything he had accomplished, had been swallowed by an ocean of silence. His hands trembled slightly, but he couldn’t even lift them. It all seemed so futile, so insignificant.
And yet, he couldn’t shake the sense of loss. Of betrayal. Of frustration. He hated himself for not being able to feel the injustice more intensely, for not being able to scream, to fight. Why couldn’t he react the way he wanted? Why did he feel like an empty man, a broken man without the strength to get back up?
That evening, he returned home, devoid of any enthusiasm. He collapsed on his couch, staring at the ceiling with vacant eyes. The air in the room felt heavy, almost oppressive. It was as if he were breathing in a space too small, drowning in a whirlwind of thoughts he couldn’t even organize.
It was far too late when he finally stepped outside. He didn’t even know why he left or what he was hoping for. Maybe it was the anxiety driving him out, or perhaps the need to be alone with his thoughts in the silence of the night.
The park was deserted, lit only by a few solitary streetlights. He sat on a bench under one of them and closed his eyes for a moment, letting the cool night breeze brush against his face. The sounds of the city felt distant, muffled by the stillness of the place. He felt so far from everything, so disconnected from reality.
That’s when he saw her. Y/n. She was walking alone in the park, probably after her workday. When she noticed him, she stopped for a moment, seemingly surprised to see him there at such a late hour. He slowly lifted his head to look at her, expressionless. He didn’t have the strength to smile. Nor the strength to pretend.
Y/n approached cautiously, her gaze uncertain but gentle. She seemed hesitant, unsure if she should disturb him. But she didn’t need words to know she should sit beside him. She said nothing, offering only her quiet presence.
The silence that settled between them wasn’t heavy but rather… soothing. She didn’t need to ask questions. Somehow, she knew he needed this moment of calm.
And that’s when Armand felt the first tears well up. He tried to hold them back, to stop them from falling, but it was no use. They began to stream down his face, slowly, gently, like a river cascading down a mountain, carrying away all the pain, all the frustration he had suppressed for so long.
The tears wouldn’t stop, one after another, breaking the silence of the night. He let himself go, giving in to the flood of emotions he had ignored for far too long. His body trembled as he leaned toward Y/n, unable to control the shaking.
Without a word, she wrapped her arms around him. He let himself lean into her, his face buried in her shoulder, the tears flowing endlessly. There was no shame in the gesture. No pride. Just the need to feel safe, to let go.
Y/n, silent, held him gently. She didn’t say anything, but she was there for him. That was all that mattered. She could feel the pain in his movements, in his cries, and she knew he wasn’t asking for anything other than understanding, support without judgment.
In her arms, Armand allowed himself to completely let go, his heart heavy but unburdened from the weight that had suffocated him for so long. He had finally stopped holding back his emotions, stopped repressing his pain. Y/n offered him the freedom to cry without judgment, without pressure.
Eventually, the tears subsided, though the emptiness lingered. Yet something had shifted. That emptiness, though still present, felt less insurmountable. He knew he wouldn’t face it alone. Y/n had accepted him without demanding answers, without imposing expectations. She had simply offered her heart, and for the first time in a long while, he felt like he belonged.
---
The silence stretched between them, but this time, it was soothing. Y/n didn’t move; she stayed there, her arms around him, like an anchor in a calm sea. She understood that sometimes, words weren’t necessary. She felt the tension in his muscles gradually ease, and she knew that, little by little, he was regaining control over his emotions.
Armand eventually pulled away slightly, his breathing still uneven. His eyes were red, but they no longer held that empty expression. In Y/n’s embrace, he had found something precious—a peace he hadn’t sought but that had found him. Slowly, he lifted his head to look at her.
“Thank you…” he murmured, his voice broken but full of gratitude.
Y/n smiled softly, her eyes gentle and reassuring. She didn’t need a response, but her gaze spoke volumes. She wasn’t judging him. She wasn’t trying to fix him. She was simply there, by his side, and that was enough.
“I’m here, Armand,” she said simply, her voice soft but filled with tenderness. Nothing more needed to be said.
A faint smile crossed Armand’s lips, but it wasn’t forced. It was genuine—a gratitude he never thought he could feel so purely.
He stood up slowly, taking a deep breath. The night was calm around them, but something within him had shifted. A weight he hadn’t even realized he was carrying had lifted, and he felt lighter, even if only for the moment.
“Do you want me to walk you home?” he offered, his tone now calmer.
She shook her head gently, a small hint of mischief in her eyes.
“No, I’m fine. But thank you. It’s… nice to be here, with you.”
He nodded, accepting her answer, though he felt a new warmth stir within him. It wasn’t just gratitude. He felt a connection, something deep silently weaving between them, without the need for words to express it. He knew that what he had just shared with her, this moment of vulnerability, could never be forgotten.
They remained there for a little while longer, enjoying the tranquility of the night. At some point, though, the silence became lighter, almost playful.
Armand turned to Y/n, his eyes now holding a spark of admiration he had felt for her since their first meeting. He looked at her, and this time, he didn’t see her as timid, fragile, or different from him. No. He saw her simply as Y/n—the person who, with a simple gesture of understanding, had brought him a kind of calm, a kind of peace he hadn’t known for a long time.
“You know, you’re really incredible,” he said softly, his voice both sincere and filled with tenderness.
Y/n blushed slightly, but her gaze didn’t waver from his. She was used to hiding her emotions, retreating into shyness. But that night, something about him encouraged her to be more open.
“Thank you,” she replied with a small smile. “But… I think we help each other.”
He smiled at her response. He didn’t need more words. He understood. They understood each other.
The days that followed felt different. Armand woke up in the morning with a slightly lighter burden on his shoulders. He continued to work, but he found himself appreciating the small things around him—things he had neglected for far too long. He spent more time reflecting on his life choices, his priorities, and what he truly wanted to achieve. But more than that, he started considering how he let his ambitions consume him.
And Y/n. He thought of her often. He hadn’t immediately seen her as someone who could help him through his moments of weakness, but he was beginning to realize that she might be the one who had shown him the path to a balance he had never sought before but was now striving to find.
For her part, Y/n seemed calmer too. She hadn’t tried to force her way into his world or immediately uncover the reasons behind his pain. She had simply listened, offering her support without expectations. She had always been a determined, dream-filled woman, but she understood that life had its own rhythm and that sometimes, stepping back was all it took to see things differently.
It wasn’t a fiery, explosive relationship, nor an all-consuming love story. It was gentler, calmer, like a quiet river. A love that grew in small gestures, in shared silences, in quiet laughter, and late-night conversations. They were learning about each other slowly but surely.
Armand knew he still had battles to fight. He also knew his responsibilities would pull him back into the whirlwind of work. But what he knew even more was that Y/n, with her quiet light and her gentle strength, would always be there, by his side. And perhaps, this budding relationship—fragile and uncertain as it might be—would become the key to a balance he had long sought without realizing it.
---
The little bakery, bathed in soft, warm light, was soothingly quiet. The last customers had long since left, and only Y/n remained behind the counter, meticulously tidying up the utensils, her precise movements reflecting her love for her craft. Armand stood in front of her, his hands buried in his pockets, looking unusually nervous.
He had rehearsed this confession in his head dozens of times. He had written a letter, carefully folded in the inside pocket of his jacket, just in case he forgot everything he wanted to say. But now, standing there in front of her, his thoughts seemed to unravel with each heartbeat.
Y/n finally looked up at him, intrigued by his uncharacteristic silence.
“Armand? Is something wrong?” she asked softly, her voice filled with genuine concern.
He pulled out the letter, hesitating.
“I… I have something to tell you,” he said, his voice rough, almost inaudible.
He placed the letter on the counter, but as he was about to hand it to her, his hand accidentally knocked over a cup of coffee left nearby. The brown liquid spread across the paper in an instant, soaking the carefully written words until the ink became a blur of illegible smudges.
Y/n, initially surprised, watched the scene before bursting into laughter.
“Oh no… You really planned everything, didn’t you?” she said, her playful smile lighting up her face.
Armand, initially panicked, began to laugh nervously too.
“Yes… Well, not exactly this,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck, slightly embarrassed.
Y/n’s laughter faded gently, but the smile remained. She looked at him, curious, waiting for him to continue.
He took a deep breath. So much for the letter. There was no escape now.
“Y/n… I’ll be honest—I’m terrible at expressing how I feel, especially about something this important. But I’m going to try.”
She stood still, her hands folded on the counter, her eyes fixed on him.
“For a while now, I… I’ve been struggling with how I feel about you. Not because I doubt what it is, but because I doubt… myself.”
She furrowed her brows slightly but said nothing, giving him the time he needed to find his words.
“You’re young, Y/n, full of dreams, talent, and life. You have your whole future ahead of you. And me… I’m…”
He paused, searching for the right word, but none came.
“I’m already in a world where I’m fighting just to stay standing. Where I work too much, where I’m always tired. And sometimes, I wonder if I’m just… an obstacle for you.”
Y/n opened her mouth, ready to protest, but he raised a hand to stop her gently.
“Wait, let me finish, please.”
She nodded, though her gaze softened.
“For the longest time, I told myself you’d be better off with someone else. Someone who could give you everything you deserve. Someone who could make you happy in ways I can’t. But every time I tried to let go of that idea… I couldn’t. Because the truth is, I want to be that person for you. Even if I’m imperfect. Even if I’m not the obvious choice.”
He finally lifted his gaze to meet hers, his dark eyes filled with a vulnerability he had never shown anyone before.
“I love you, Y/n. Not in some grand, dramatic way, but in a simple, honest way. I love you because you’re you—with your shy smiles, your passion for what you do, your way of always seeing the best in others… And I know I’m clumsy, that maybe I don’t deserve this, but I want to try. If you’ll let me.”
The silence that followed felt like an eternity. Y/n, her cheeks slightly flushed, seemed to be searching for the right words, her fingers playing with the edge of her apron. Then, slowly, she smiled.
“You know, Armand,” she murmured, “you’re putting way too much pressure on yourself.”
He raised an eyebrow, surprised.
“What I love about you isn’t some perfection you think you have to reach. What I love is you. Your clumsiness, your seriousness, the way you look at me like I’m the most precious thing in the world. I’ve never wanted someone perfect. I just want you.”
This time, it was his turn to be speechless. She leaned slightly over the counter, reducing the distance between them.
“I love you too, Armand,” she added, a glimmer of mischief in her eyes. “Even if you’re incredibly clumsy sometimes.”
He burst out laughing, relieved, and this time, the laughter was pure, sincere, full of a joy he hadn’t felt in a long time.
“So… you’ll have me, despite everything?” he asked, a hesitant smile on his lips.
She nodded, her smile widening.
“Yes. But only if you promise never to write letters next to a cup of coffee again.”
They laughed together once more, and in that shared moment of joy, the world seemed to shrink down to just the two of them. It wasn’t a perfect confession, nor a scene straight out of a romantic movie. It was clumsy, sincere, full of laughter and shyness. But it was them. Just them.
---
The months had flown by, and their relationship had blossomed in a quiet, unexpected way. Armand and Y/n had found their rhythm, balancing Armand’s busy workdays with the long hours Y/n spent in her bakery perfecting her recipes. Their love was sincere, built on small daily gestures and shared silences that spoke volumes.
They had celebrated Y/n’s victory in the pastry competition together. That day, she had climbed the stage, trembling but radiant, to receive her trophy. Armand had watched her with unwavering pride, as if she had just reached for the stars. They spent the evening laughing and celebrating in a way that felt simple and true to them.
But a few weeks after that moment of glory, their happiness was brutally interrupted.
Y/n had begun feeling pain in her lower abdomen and a fatigue she could no longer ignore. At first, she thought it was due to stress or overwork and delayed seeking medical advice. But one day, Armand insisted she see a doctor.
The diagnosis hit like a thunderbolt: terminal cancer, already too advanced to treat.
When Y/n walked out of the consultation room, her legs trembled. Armand, who had been waiting in the hallway, stood up immediately upon seeing her expression.
“Y/n? What’s wrong?”
She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Then, with trembling hands, she reached out and grabbed his.
“I… I only have a few months left,” she finally murmured, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Armand felt his heart shatter, as though the ground had been pulled out from under him. But he didn’t let the panic take over. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly as if that simple gesture could shield her from everything.
The shock of the diagnosis changed them. Y/n, initially terrified, found the strength to smile again thanks to Armand. He, though devastated inside, became her pillar of support. Together, they made a decision: they would not let this illness steal the time they had left.
They began crossing dreams off Y/n’s list. A weekend in a small cabin by the lake, where they fished together and stargazed. A day spent at a bustling market, tasting dishes they’d never dared to try before. And, of course, hours spent in the bakery’s kitchen, experimenting with new recipes Y/n had dreamed up.
One evening, as they kneaded brioche dough together, Y/n suddenly stopped, her hands covered in flour.
“You know, Armand…” she began hesitantly.
“Yes?”
“I think… even if I’d known all of this beforehand… I wouldn’t change a thing.”
He looked at her, surprised.
“Nothing?”
She nodded, a sad but sincere smile on her lips.
“Because meeting you, loving you… it was worth it.”
Armand felt his throat tighten. He stepped closer and gently wiped a smear of flour from her forehead.
“I’m the lucky one,” he murmured.
A few months after the diagnosis, Y/n was weaker, but she refused to let it defeat her. It was the day of the event they had planned to share her final pastry creations with her loved ones and loyal customers.
The little bakery was filled with laughter and joy. Armand watched her from a distance, marveling at the way she lit up the room despite her visible exhaustion. At one point, she caught his gaze and walked over to him.
“You know, I saved the best for you,” she said, handing him a small box adorned with a ribbon.
He opened it to find a delicate dessert, carefully crafted.
“I named it ‘Renaissance,’ because… even when something ends, there’s always a part of life that remains.”
He looked at her, moved, and whispered:
“Y/n, you are my renaissance.”
That night, under a starry sky, they sat on the bench in the park where it had all begun. Y/n, nestled against him, felt a tear roll down her cheek.
“Armand… you’ve given me so much more than I could have imagined,” she murmured.
He shook his head.
“You’re the one who’s taught me everything. To love, to live…”
She looked up at him, her tired eyes filled with love.
“Then promise me something,” she whispered.
“Anything.”
“When I’m gone, live for both of us. Live so fully that people will say Y/n taught you how to smile.”
Armand felt the tears well up but nodded, unable to speak. He etched that moment into his heart, as an eternal promise.
Y/n couldn’t change her fate, but she had turned their love into a light that would never fade.
---
The months had passed, and Y/n’s condition had worsened. Yet, she tried to maintain her smile, like a shield against the pain—for Armand, and for herself.
That morning, Armand arrived at Y/n’s place with a box filled with croissants he had carefully chosen from a bakery she particularly loved. But when he knocked on the door and she didn’t answer, a wave of worry washed over him.
“Y/n? It’s me, Armand.”
The silence was oppressive. After a few moments of waiting, he pulled out the spare key she had entrusted to him. When he opened the door, the familiar scent of lavender and flour greeted him, but the atmosphere felt strangely still. He hurried upstairs, his heart pounding.
“Y/n?”
In the bedroom, Y/n was still lying in bed. She slowly opened her eyes at the sound of his voice, but something in her gaze had changed. She seemed… distant. Armand approached her, and that’s when he noticed the strands of hair scattered across the pillow. Her once vibrant hair was almost all gone.
She reached a hand to her head, then lowered her eyes to the strands. A faint “Ah…” escaped her lips, barely audible, as if she no longer had the strength to react.
Armand felt a dull pain crush his heart. That indifference, that emptiness in her voice—it was worse than any tears she could have shed.
“Y/n…” he whispered, kneeling beside her.
But she didn’t respond. Slowly, mechanically, she got up to get ready.
He stayed there, motionless, his eyes fixed on the empty pillow, his trembling fingers clutching the wrinkled sheet. She was moving forward, but he felt her slipping away, like a wisp of wind he couldn’t hold onto.
A few months later, despite Y/n’s obvious weakness, Armand organized a small evening just for the two of them. He wanted to give her a moment of lightness, a little escape.
They laughed. They talked about memories, unfinished dreams, and even joked about how Armand could never bake a cake without burning it.
Y/n, tired but glowing, rested her head on his shoulder.
“You know… I think I’ve never been happier than I’ve been with you,” she murmured.
Armand gently stroked what was left of her hair and kissed her forehead.
“You are my life, Y/n.”
She looked up at him, a peaceful smile on her lips.
“Then keep living, even after me.”
That was their last conversation.
That night, Y/n fell asleep in his arms. Armand, however, couldn’t bring himself to sleep. He preferred to watch her, to engrave every detail into his memory: the softness of her features, the rhythm of her breath in the silence, the fragile warmth of her hand in his.
In the early morning, sunlight timidly peeked through the curtains. Armand opened his eyes and immediately felt something was wrong. Y/n was still—too still.
“Y/n?” he called softly, his voice filled with a hope he knew was futile.
He touched her cheek—it was cold.
“No… no,” he murmured, tears welling in his eyes.
He held her in his arms, gently rocking her, as if saying a final goodbye. Her face was peaceful, as though she had simply fallen asleep after a beautiful evening. But for Armand, the world collapsed in that moment.
The days that followed were dark, but Armand found strength in the memories they had shared. Y/n had taught him how to love, how to live fully, and he knew she wouldn’t have wanted him to drown in despair.
He kept the notebook where she had written her recipes and thoughts, and he worked to keep the promise he had made to her: to live for the both of them.
A year later, Armand opened a small bakery, which he named Y/n’s Light. Each creation carried a piece of her, a tribute to her talent and her brilliance.
And every morning, when he saw the smiles of customers enjoying what she had inspired, he felt her presence beside him. Y/n may not have had all the time she deserved, but her love—her light—was eternal.
---
Days passed, yet Armand continued to visit the cemetery regularly. Under the weeping willow, Y/n rested in the peaceful spot he had chosen carefully for her. He often spoke to the grave as if she were still there, sharing his achievements, doubts, and even the mundane stories of his day.
He decorated the gravestone with care. At Christmas, he brought small garlands and winter flowers. At Easter, he left colorful eggs and sweets he had prepared while thinking of her. The engraved photo on the stone smiled back at him, soft and almost alive.
But one day, something changed.
As part of his new project—renovating an orphanage—Armand immersed himself in his work. He wanted to create a warm, welcoming space where children could feel all the love they deserved.
One afternoon, while discussing the plans with a nun, he passed by the nursery. His gaze was drawn to a group of infants sleeping peacefully, their soft breaths filling the room with a calming rhythm.
That’s when he noticed a little girl, apart from the others. She cooed softly, observing the world with curious but timid eyes. Her cries were gentle, almost hesitant, as if unsure whether she should ask for attention.
Armand froze, his heart clenching. She reminded him of Y/n. Not physically, but in the fragile sweetness she radiated.
In the days that followed, he couldn’t get her out of his mind. The idea of adopting her became an undeniable calling, almost as if Y/n had sent him a sign.
A few weeks later, after completing all the necessary procedures, he finally welcomed the little girl into his home. He named her Y/n, in honor of the woman who had changed his life.
Four months passed. Little Y/n clung to Armand as if afraid he might disappear. Her smile, her clumsy laughter, her first attempts to stand on her tiny legs—everything about her rekindled a light he thought he had lost.
One morning, Armand made a decision. He wanted to introduce little Y/n to her “mother.”
He prepared a simple picnic, packing bottles for the baby and snacks for himself.
When he arrived at the grave, he paused for a moment, his eyes on Y/n’s engraved photo.
“Hello, Y/n,” he murmured.
Little Y/n, nestled against him, babbled softly, her big curious eyes following the willow leaves dancing in the wind. Armand knelt before the grave, spread out the blanket he had brought, and gently placed the baby on it.
“I brought someone to meet you today,” he said, a fragile smile on his lips.
He sat facing the gravestone and placed little Y/n on his lap.
“This is Y/n. She has your name. I couldn’t think of a more perfect name for her…”
He ran a tender hand through the baby’s short, soft hair as she played with a fallen willow leaf.
“She’s incredible, you know. Every day, she reminds me that life can still be beautiful, even after everything.”
He spoke for hours, sharing stories, thoughts, and promises he wanted to keep.
“I’m doing my best to be a good father. It’s not always easy… sometimes I wonder if I’m enough. But she trusts me, Y/n, just like you trusted me.”
The little girl let out a joyful cry as she spotted a butterfly fluttering nearby. Armand laughed—a sound he hadn’t heard from himself in a long time.
“You see? Even a butterfly fascinates her. She has your way of finding beauty everywhere.”
He leaned forward slightly, bringing little Y/n closer to the gravestone as if to introduce her properly to her mother.
“ Say hi to Mama” he whispered tenderly.
The baby didn’t understand what was happening, but when she saw the photo on the grave, she cheerfully held out a flower she had picked earlier and babbled joyfully. The gesture brought a smile to Armand’s face.
“See, Y/n? This little one already loves you.”
As the sun began to set, Armand rose slowly, holding little Y/n close to him.
"In another life, I hope it's you and me... I beg God that it's still you and me. I hope we will be happy together, Maybe we can love each other and... grow old together?" The little y/n in his arms suddenly lets out a chirp, as if to make her presence felt. Armand laughs despite his tears that threaten to flow. "Yes, and that the three of us can form a beautiful and happy family" he said, playing with his daughter's little hand. "Until then, I'll take care of her for both of us. Promise, my love."
“Thank you,” he murmured, looking at the gravestone one last time. “Thank you for everything you’ve given me.”
He placed one final flower on the grave before walking away.
On the way home, little Y/n fell asleep in his arms. Armand, however, walked with a lighter step. That day, under the weeping willow, he felt something shift. It wasn’t a goodbye, but a new chapter—a bridge between the love he had lost and the love he had found.
And he knew he would return to that willow, again and again, to share the joys and sorrows of the life he was building for the two of them.
..................................................................................
Tags list : @elizalabs3
#oldermen#older guys#x reader#x black reader#black fem reader#fem!reader#femal reader#yandere x reader#yandere headcanons#wattpad#fiction#jcw#ji chang wook#ji chang wook x reader#older men x reader#older men x fem reader#Spotify#older man younger woman#older man <3#older men do it better#kdrama fic#kdrama#yandere x darling#yandere x you#yandere x y/n
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Lyla as a miniature horse
#man making her look digital bout killed me#her coloring is a Medicine Hat pinto#she has other markings they are just hidden#first time drawing minis actually#horse#astv lyla#horse art#fanart#my art#across the spiderverse#atsv fanart#atsv#miguel fanart#miguel o'hara x oc#miguel spiderverse#atsv miguel#miguel spiderman#miguel o'hara#lyla spiderman 2099#spider man#spiderman atsv#spiderman across the spiderverse#spiderman#spiderman 2099#spiderman lyla#lyla spiderverse#atsv lyla#lyla#miniature horse
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1.10 / 1.09
#something to be said not just about how Ibrahim aims to replace his past family with his present bond with Süleiman (and Musti and Mahi#branch off of that bond) but also how Hatice fits in all of this - the one Ibrahim leans on everytime he's likely to lose SS is *her*#she isn't just the future he wants to secure in the castle but also the past he yearns for outside of it especially in that initial period#of their relationship; and not just any past but a very particular fragment of it - the next most valuable person of his past other than#his brother: his *mother*. it's no wonder him playing *his mother's* melodies with the violin marks the beginning of their story and stays#an important motif throughout. just like Ibrahim's mother Hatice is so familiar yet so out of reach (and this unreachability accumulates in#E13 - Ibrahim leaves for Parga thus returning to his past but leaving Hatice behind but *then* finding out his mother is gone too.#*both* people he wants to be close to soo much are *gone* in that moment. there's a link between them because of this. also Hatice tieing#lbrahim's mother to “heaven” as well and her “looking at their happiness from above” Ibro responds with in E14.) Hatice will distance#more and more from that role later on until lbrahim starts to outright abandon this whole 'return to the past' idea with Hatice and#search for it through Nigar instead. but yeah anyway I feel these two scenes are the perfect encapsulation of how complicated#the past is for lbrahim; he avoids remembering it because it *hurts* to remember both because why would he remember it when he already has#an established future and because deep down he resents what he's become and established as that isn't ever permanent and he's lost all else#*himself* most of all as who is a person without his roots? he wants to forget them but can't ever do it so what's left is replacing them#*all of them*; when he finds Hatice too he wants to have *both* her and Süleiman and SS marrying Hatice off directly challanges that want#up to that point he believed in the possibility of their love more than Hatice did; now? he seems as lost as she is not knowing what to do#the only way not to lose either of them is accepting Süleiman's order convincing himself that this is how it should be no matter how much#that hurts and would bury him even deeper; he can't bear it so he searches for a solution - and when he sees Rhodes sea? it hits him#it hits him how low he's actually sunk through the losses and if he can't “fully* replace the past he'll *fully* return to the past letting#*everything else* once hidden out as well. not to mention how right before he left to Parga he was brought to fear for his literal death#and then he is given more power that also brings some uncertainty with it and that likely scared him cementing his departure for Parga#directly following Piri Pasha's advice to let power go as it won't let *you* go#(btw a big contrast between S01 and S03 Ibrahim can be drawn in his relationship with Piri Pasha and his relationship with Ebusuud)#magnificent century#muhteşem yüzyıl#muhtesem yuzyil#ibrahim pasha#(sorry for the disorganized tags but if I kept it like it was I would've exceeded the limit before I even finished 😅)#(just Ibrahim and Hatice in general are people who latch onto each other to get over their losses and ache for peace amidst their turbulent#lives and positions and that's what keeps them close and will later too)
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pspsps lemon man I drew the blorbos ever
I'm sure the colors for her shirt n stuff aren't what you imagined but I'm SORRY I WANTED TO COLOR HER AUGH <3
also. did Robin do any of the piercings herself? idk about you but I could definitely imagine her and mark fuckenn like doing a piercing in the school bathroom with an ice cube and a needle bc robin's parents wouldn't let her get it pierced or smth BUT THATS JUST ME
Screams cries throws up punches wall I love how you draw Robin so much she’s everything ever she’s so important to me and CUNT ERA IS INSANE. Bee looks like they just ate a stapler (affectionate)
dude everytime I see someone use the colors I use to draw them it’s like. Oh is that how they look do I make them that warm…
I feel like all of Robin’s piercings were done by her and Mark, they don’t have a lot of money and they are great at making stupid decisions, so consider most of their fashion choices homemade (looks at their poorly bleached/dyed/cut hair…)
and oh they DEFINITELY did a piercing in the school bathroom… it was one that could be easily hidden because it’d be BAD if her parents saw it but they felt so cool doing it
sigh they are so important to me
#lemon man talks#On the same topic they make and style a lot of their accessories and clothes themselves!!#Robin tries to not spend much on stuff like this bc she’s saving money to transition#And Mark just has a lot of fun with it#And since they’ve always had to do stuff hidden from Robin’s parents it’s kinda become a them thing#It’s a little tradition of theirs#And a little sign of how much they trust each other for them#So much they let each other pierce each other’s ears and mess with their hair#Mark made Robin’s key necklace btw <3#I’ll let you guess why though#Bc I’m evil#oc talk
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off my face - yjw
pairing: jungwon x reader genre: soulmate au, mega FLUFF word count: 6.6k summary: in a world where each person has a soulmate mark indicating where they will be touched by their soulmate for the first time, there’s jungwon—the soccer team captain you’d like to be ruined by forever—who has no soulmate mark at all. what does that make you, someone whose mark has changed color because of him? author's note: finally!! here's your most awaited blond jungwon fic that i skipped sleep for<3333 inspired by this amazing prompt my friend sent me.
One touch and you got me stoned. Higher than I've ever known. You call the shots and I follow. Sunrise, but the night still young. No words, but we speak in tongues. If you let me, I might say too much.
You sat near the front row, posture perfect, eyes narrowed as Professor Min’s lecture on ancient mythology took a surprising turn. Today’s topic wasn’t just history—it was soulmate lore, the mysterious marks everyone was born with, and the myths that surrounded them. The professor’s calm, seasoned voice filled the room, but the air buzzed with barely contained excitement. Everyone was alert, even the usual back-row whisperers, captivated by the promise of something rare: a sanctioned discussion about their most private marks.
“These soulmate marks,” Professor Min began, his gaze sweeping the room with a faint smile, “are said to be the final traces of a bond forged in a past life. Legends tell us that in each lifetime, we may be separated from our soulmates, lost to distance or circumstance. But the marks,” he gestured to his own faintly darkened palm, “are said to be the soul’s way of leaving a trail—a reminder.”
A murmur rippled through the room. Everyone had a mark, a small patch of inky darkness, as distinct as fingerprints, mapped out on their bodies. Some had them on their palms or fingertips, waiting for the day a handshake or brush of fingers would light up that mark with color. Others had them in more curious places, whispering of fated touches in the most unlikely moments.
"The legend says," Professor Min continued, "that these marks were painted by one’s soulmate in a past life, a vow made in hopes to meet again, to find each other across time."
You clenched your pen a little tighter, the faint tickle of wonder battling the urge to keep your expression blank and unfeeling. You’d always kept your interest in soulmate marks private. They seemed so full of mystery, and the idea of your soulmate waiting for you somewhere was oddly… reassuring. You glanced down, conscious of the mark behind your knee, hidden like a strange secret that even you could barely understand. What kind of first touch would even reach there? The thought was both amusing and baffling, and you stifled a wry smile.
Around you, other students leaned in to chat, loud enough that their conversations blended into a steady hum. Your classmate Arin nudged her friend, laughing as she displayed the faint mark on her palm. “I’ve been dying to know who’ll shake my hand one day,” she whispered excitedly, her eyes glimmering with hope.
But your gaze drifted just beyond Arin, landing instead on a familiar figure lounging in the middle row with his legs stretched out, looking every bit like he was born to disrupt things without lifting a finger. Jungwon. Handsome in a way that seemed almost unfair, with striking, dark eyes framed by lashes that cast subtle shadows on his cheeks, and hair the color of midnight that fell in soft, tousled waves. He had this effortless, magnetic presence that drew people toward him, like he knew he didn’t need to try.
As captain of the soccer team and one of the most well-known faces on campus, Jungwon somehow managed to look both sharp and relaxed, as if the attention his looks or reputation brought him meant nothing. You’d been crushing on him since last year, an avid fan always present at his games, cheering him on like a lovesick fool. Whenever he scored a goal, you felt your heart leap, and you couldn’t help but unleash your inner fangirl, your excitement spilling over as you screamed his name. Right now, he seemed half-listening to his friends, a hint of a lazy grin tugging at the corners of his mouth as he leaned back, eyes drifting up to the ceiling before refocusing on his friends. It was that easygoing confidence that made him impossible not to notice—and, for you, impossible not to think about.
It was a boy from his friend group, Jay, who interrupted the class chatter by slapping a hand down on the table and teasing, “Come on, Won. You don’t have a soulmate mark, my foot. No one gets off that easy.” The comment was light-hearted but loaded, and more than a few students turned to look.
To your surprise, Jungwon didn’t react with one of his usual witty comebacks or careless shrugs. Instead, he just rubbed the back of his neck, a hint of something almost vulnerable flashing across his face. “No, really,” he insisted, almost apologetically. “I don’t have one. I checked a million times as a kid.”
Your pen paused mid-note, and a slight, irrational disappointment prickled in your chest. It was hard to believe, especially about someone like Jungwon, whose very presence seemed destined to leave a mark on others. Soulmate marks might be rare, but someone like him not having one? It felt impossible, like a missing piece that no one noticed until it was too late.
For a fleeting moment, you wondered if maybe he just hadn’t found it yet. After all, some people only discovered their mark when it finally turned to color. Sometimes it wasn’t a visible spot on the skin but something far subtler—a shadow in the hue of their lips that would only brighten after a first kiss, or a darkness lingering in an eye, invisible until the gentle touch of someone wiping away their tears brought it to life. The thought sent a strange warmth to your cheeks as you glanced back toward him, wondering if Jungwon’s missing mark was just waiting for the right person to unlock it.
Still, he looked surprisingly honest, a faint hint of sadness clouding his otherwise bright gaze. For someone so magnetic, it was as if he was caught drifting in space, without any tether connecting him to anyone at all.
“Alright, alright,” Jay relented, raising his hands in surrender but laughing all the same. “Guess someone’s too cool to be fated to anyone, huh?”
The professor’s voice cut back in, and you forced yourself to refocus, though your mind lingered on Jungwon’s quiet expression and the flicker of something in his eyes, something both resigned and deeply private. Could he really be alone in a world where everyone else was bound to someone?
“Imagine having your mark on your knuckles,” Arin whispered beside you with a grin, oblivious to the moment that had just passed. “You’d probably knock your soulmate out before you even realized they were ‘the one’!”
Another round of laughter scattered through the room, like a shared inside joke. The air felt charged, as if everyone were suddenly curious about each other’s marks, glancing around with new eyes. You let out a small sigh, tapping your pen against your notebook with a faint smile. As much as you tried to keep up the class president, model-student act, the idea of soulmates fascinated you in a way you’d never quite admit.
When the bell finally rang, the room filled with that familiar end-of-class chaos. You started packing up, keeping your head down—until you noticed Jungwon slinging his bag over his shoulder, looking effortlessly put-together, as usual. He laughed at something his friend said, his expression relaxed, his dark eyes flickering with amusement. But you couldn’t help catching the faintest flicker of something else in his gaze as he glanced at his friends—like a momentary, unguarded look that felt… wistful?
Okay, maybe that was just you being overly imaginative.
You let out a little huff as you slung your own bag over your shoulder, shaking off the strange pity you’d felt moments before. So what if Jungwon didn’t have a mark? You barely even knew him. Well, you kind of knew him, but from a distance—and with way more daydreams than you’d like to admit. Still, it was silly to wonder about him, right? With your head full of these thoughts, you walked out into the hallway, lost in a world where maybe, just maybe, he was wondering about you, too.
And as you brushed past a group of friends, laughing and shoving each other, your hand slipped over the back of your knee, where your own mark was hidden—quiet, waiting, and as mysterious as ever.
The sky was an endless blue, stretching wide over the school field as your class spilled out onto the grass for PE. With the teacher conveniently on vacation, today’s instructions were simple: enjoy the free time. Most of your classmates took to the field, breaking off into little clusters for a lazy game of soccer, light stretches, or simple gossip sessions by the bleachers.
As class president, you took it upon yourself to ensure no one went too far or caused trouble. Your duty, as you saw it, was to survey your classmates from a slight distance, keeping an eye out with the calm, serious gaze you’d carefully perfected. Yet even from the sidelines, your eyes found themselves drifting toward a familiar figure on the field, drawn to him like magnets.
Jungwon was at the center of the field with his friends, casual and relaxed, but his every move carried an elegance that made your pulse skip. He was laughing at something his friend said, his eyes crinkling as he kicked the soccer ball back and forth, the glint of a confident smirk tugging at his lips. His ease on the field was mesmerizing, a mixture of strength and grace that made it hard to look away.
You reminded yourself to focus, scanning the field to check on the other groups. But before you could pull your attention back entirely, a voice called out, and you saw Jungwon pivot to chase the soccer ball—only for it to ricochet off his foot, headed directly toward you with alarming speed.
In the split second it took you to react, you felt a sharp thud against the back of your knees. The impact sent you stumbling forward, knees buckling beneath you as you tumbled to the ground. Pain flared up where the ball had struck, but it was drowned out by the shock of it all.
“Oh no—are you okay?” Jungwon’s voice was breathless with concern, his steps hurried as he reached you. You barely had a chance to process his arrival before he knelt beside you, face flushed and clearly panicked. His hand hovered awkwardly as if afraid to touch you, his usual calm replaced with something far more vulnerable.
“I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to— Are you hurt?” he stammered, his voice unusually soft. He reached out gently, his hands carefully brushing against your arm as he tried to help you up. “Can you stand?”
Your mind struggled to catch up to the moment, and it took everything you had to keep your stoic demeanor intact. Jungwon was close, closer than he’d ever been, and the intensity of his worried gaze was unexpectedly disarming. Even as pain pulsed through your knee, you couldn’t help but stare, captivated by how intensely he focused on you, as if everything else in the world had fallen away.
“I’m fine, really,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. But as soon as you tried to stand, pain shot up your leg.
Jungwon’s expression shifted to one of determination, and before you could protest, he slid one arm under your knees and lifted you up, his other arm around your shoulders. The world tilted as he held you in a firm, steady grip, his face barely inches from yours. “We’re getting you to the nurse. No arguments.”
You blinked, momentarily stunned by his closeness, by the warmth radiating from him. “Oh—okay.” The words left your mouth almost on instinct, your brain still catching up with the fact that Jungwon was carrying you, his focus set entirely on you. His hands brushed your arm as he adjusted his grip, and you felt a strange warmth bloom under your skin, something unfamiliar and electric.
The walk to the nurse’s office was quiet, but you couldn’t ignore the way his gaze flickered to you, the gentleness in his expression as he murmured, “Sorry again. I’d never forgive myself if I hurt the class president.”
Your lips parted, searching for something to say, but the way he looked at you—soft, maybe even a bit shy—left you wordless. All you could do was nod, your heart pounding louder with each step as you held onto the feeling of his arms around you, wondering if he could hear it too.
It wasn’t until you glanced down that you noticed it—a faint shift of color beneath your knee where the ball had struck. The mark, once hidden and dark, now radiated a subtle but unmistakable bright yellow hue, soft and warm against your skin.
You froze, eyes wide, as the realization settled in. Jungwon was still mumbling apologies, unaware of the discovery you’d just made. Only he could have caused the mark to change; he was the only one who had touched that spot. The idea left you breathless, your mind scrambling to make sense of it all.
In the clinic, the nurse examined your knee with a quick, professional assessment. “You’ll be fine,” she declared, sending you off with an ice pack and a faint smile. But your thoughts were still racing, tangled up in the startling realization that Jungwon might actually be your soulmate.
The whole walk back to class, you replayed the moment in your mind, trying to make sense of it. Maybe it was a coincidence. Perhaps someone had brushed the back of your knee at some other time, and you simply hadn’t noticed. But deep down, you knew the truth—the mark had only changed when Jungwon touched you.
And when you returned to class, he was there, hovering near the door with a worried frown. He looked up as you approached, eyes bright with relief.
“Are you okay?” he asked, a slight smile breaking through the concern etched into his features. “I was worried about you.”
Your heart skipped as you nodded, doing your best to keep your voice steady. “I’m fine. Just… a bit shaken up, that’s all.” You felt the weight of the new secret pressing down on you, but you forced yourself to smile.
Jungwon’s shoulders relaxed, and he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck in that effortlessly charming way of his. “I’m glad. I’ll be more careful with my aim next time.”
You smiled back, feeling the weight of the mark’s new color, of the quiet truth only you knew. As Jungwon returned to his seat, your gaze drifted to the back of your knee, where the mark lay hidden under the fabric of your clothes, now touched by color—by him.
In the days following the incident on the field, the world seemed to shift around you, humming with an energy you couldn’t quite shake. The back of your knee, where Jungwon’s touch had changed your soulmate mark to a soft, distinct yellow color, was a constant reminder of the possibility that your crush—Jungwon, the ever-handsome and kind soccer captain—might be something even more significant than you’d ever dared to imagine.
“How’s your knee?” he asked, his voice warm and tinged with that familiar gentleness that made your heart stutter.
“Oh, it’s fine, really!” You waved it off, attempting to tuck your leg further under your desk, hoping he wouldn’t notice the faint new color to the mark that still lingered behind your knee.
Jungwon didn’t seem to buy it. “Are you sure?” he asked, his brows furrowing as he leaned down, intent on seeing for himself. Before he could get a closer look, you tugged your skirt down a little farther, hiding the mark as best as you could.
“I’m sure, really,” you insisted, trying to keep your tone casual. “It’s just a little sore, nothing to worry about.”
For a moment, he hesitated, his gaze lingering on you, unreadable. Then he nodded, standing up with a quiet, sheepish smile. “Alright. I’ll trust you, but only if you promise to let me know if it starts hurting again.”
You managed a nod, clutching your books a little tighter to keep your hands steady. “I promise,” you said, hoping he didn’t notice the flicker of nerves in your eyes.
Your third shared class of the week was English, and just as the teacher assigned the day’s group work, the class began to shift into pairs. Coincidentally (or so you told yourself), the seating arrangement placed Jungwon near you that day.
“Hey,” he said, his voice soft as he approached. He offered you one of his signature, heart-stopping smiles. “Mind if we pair up? I mean…if you’re okay with it.”
With an effort to keep your expression neutral, you nodded. “Sure,” you replied, your voice steady even though your heart was anything but.
Settling at a table near the window, you both pulled out your notebooks. The task was straightforward—analyzing a poem about soulmates. You caught a breath at the irony, and Jungwon, seemingly unfazed, began reading the passage aloud. His voice, low and calm, wove through the words as you listened, though your mind kept wandering to his every movement, the way his eyes flickered thoughtfully over the page, how his fingers held the pencil lightly but with intention.
“What do you think?” he asked, pulling you out of your thoughts.
You cleared your throat, willing your focus back to the assignment. “I think…well, it’s romantic. But it’s also kind of tragic, right? There’s always this sense of waiting—like, what if they don’t meet?”
Jungwon’s gaze flickered up, lingering on your face a little longer than necessary. “Yeah, that’s true,” he agreed, his voice thoughtful. “The idea that you’re waiting your whole life for just one person…it’s a lot of pressure.”
He paused, eyes settling on you, as if searching for something beneath the calm exterior you held so tightly. “Do you… believe in it? Soulmates, I mean?”
Caught off guard, you looked down, your fingers tracing invisible patterns on the edge of your notebook. You thought of your parents, of their own lovely story about finding each other through their marks, and how you’d grown up with those tales of destiny. And now, here you were, sitting with the very boy who might be your own fated match.
“I think,” you began slowly, “that I want to believe in it. My parents…they have one of those classic stories. It’s hard not to believe in soulmates when you’ve heard stories like that all your life.”
He nodded, listening intently. “I get that. I guess…sometimes I wonder what it would be like. But it’s hard to picture when you don’t…you know, have any marks yourself.”
The quiet sadness in his tone took you by surprise. You’d never considered what it might be like to go through life without a soulmate mark, to feel like something intrinsic was missing, a feeling that destiny had passed you by. Suddenly, your thoughts flickered back to the legends the elders told—how markless people were said to carry the weight of unrequited love from a past life, doomed to wander without a soulmate to mark them in this one. The idea hung heavy in the air, mingling with your sympathy for him.
“Maybe it doesn’t matter, then,” you murmured, almost to yourself. “Maybe people without marks find their person too, in other ways.” You couldn’t help but think that perhaps Jungwon was one of those souls, burdened by a love that never came to fruition.
The silence that followed was heavy but not uncomfortable. Jungwon seemed lost in thought, his gaze drifting out the window as he considered your words. And just then, a strange sense of comfort washed over you, knowing that even if he was unaware of it, you shared a connection that went beyond what either of you could see.
“Maybe,” he said finally, and then he flashed you a lopsided grin. “Well, even if soulmates are real, maybe it’s a good thing I’m mark-free. I don’t think I’d want someone to find out I was their soulmate because I hit them with a soccer ball.”
His laughter rang out, and you couldn’t help but join him, but beneath the mirth, your heart clenched. You wanted to tell him everything—to reveal the secret that could bridge the chasm between you. But as the words formed on your lips, fear gripped you. What if you were wrong? What if he truly didn’t have a soulmate mark, and this moment of connection was just a fleeting illusion?
So you swallowed hard, plastering a smile on your face that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Well, let’s just keep that between us, then,” you replied, hoping to mask the anxiety swirling inside you.
Inside, the truth weighed heavy, a secret that felt more like a burden than a bond. Keeping it hidden seemed safer, easier—even if it left you feeling like a ghost, drifting alongside him but never truly reaching out. The thought of him being one of those markless souls—the ones who carried the pain of a love never realized—made you ache. You didn’t want him to feel that emptiness, and yet, here you were, hiding a truth that might shatter the fragile connection you shared.
Perhaps it was better this way. Better to hold onto your heartache in silence than risk shattering the bond you had built, no matter how tenuous it felt. As you returned to the assignment, the bittersweet taste of longing lingered on your tongue, mixing with the thrill of possibility, leaving you torn between the hope of what could be and the fear of what might never come to pass.
Finally, during your biology class, your teacher assigned a laboratory cleaning rotation. By the luck of the draw—or maybe a twist of fate—you found yourself paired with Jungwon. It was supposed to be a simple task, but as the two of you gathered supplies and began tidying up the classroom after hours, you felt the weight of every quiet moment.
Jungwon appeared beside you as you straightened a stack of textbooks, arms full of markers and erasers. His casual, laid-back attitude only heightened the quiet thrill that being near him sparked in you. As he handed you an eraser, your fingers brushed slightly, and you pulled back quickly, heart racing.
"Are you always this… serious?" Jungwon teased, his lips curving into a half-smile. "I mean, you don’t have to look like we’re cleaning the whole school."
You rolled your eyes, fighting back a smile. “It’s just how I work. I take tasks seriously.”
He nodded, still smiling. “You’re impressive, you know. It’s like…you’re always so composed, like nothing rattles you.”
Caught off guard by his observation, you froze momentarily, not sure how to respond. Behind your serious exterior, you were anything but composed—especially around him. Before you could answer, he turned away to tidy the bookshelves, leaving you wondering if he’d picked up on the effect he had on you.
After a while, Jungwon returned to the task at hand, dusting off a few of the windowsills. It was quiet for a few minutes, the sounds of your combined effort filling the room. You both worked in sync, a silent rhythm that had developed without either of you realizing it. And then, with an abruptness that caught you off guard, he spoke again.
“Hey,” he said, hesitating. “I know this might be a weird question, but… where’s your soulmate mark?”
The question hung in the air between you, heavy with implications you weren’t ready to unravel. Your heart thudded as you carefully set down the books you’d been holding, gathering your thoughts.
You felt a flush creep up your cheeks. "Um, it's… it's on my knee," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. The intimacy of the moment made you shy, and you instinctively shifted your weight, the hem of your skirt falling to cover your knee even more.
Jungwon raised an eyebrow, curiosity glimmering in his eyes. “Oh? Is it… already in color?”
You hesitated for a brief moment, weighing your words. “Uh, yeah,” you replied, biting your lip. “It changed a while ago. But it’s not a big deal.” You left out the part about him possibly being your soulmate, feeling the weight of that truth settle heavily in the air between you.
His expression shifted slightly, disappointment flashing across his features before he masked it with a casual smile. “That’s cool,” he said, his voice a bit quieter now. “I guess… it must be nice to have that certainty.”
“Yeah,” you said, trying to keep the mood light despite the sudden heaviness in your chest. “I mean, it’s comforting, I suppose.”
But beneath your words, a sense of longing stirred. You noticed how his gaze faltered for a moment, and it struck you then how much he had hoped for something different. He had seemed eager, maybe even hopeful, and the realization stung a little.
Jungwon cleared his throat, breaking the silence that had settled over you both. “So, um… did you see the last soccer game?” he asked, trying to steer the conversation in a different direction. “I think we really need to work on our defense.”
His attempt at lightheartedness felt slightly forced, and you could see a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. Still, it was nice to see him trying to shake off the heaviness from moments before.
“Yeah, I caught a bit of it,” you replied, grateful for the shift in focus. “You guys played well, though a couple of those goals were pretty close calls.”
He chuckled, the tension easing just a little. “Yeah, I think I almost gave our coach a heart attack with that last-minute save,” he said, grinning. It was an infectious smile, and you found yourself smiling back despite the weight still resting in the back of your mind.
The annual school festival arrived faster than expected, and the campus buzzed with activity and excitement. Classrooms were transformed into themed booths, hallways were draped with handmade decorations, and students wore colorful festival shirts and badges, their faces bright with paint and laughter. You found yourself stationed at the face-painting booth, brush in hand, ready to tackle the endless line of eager students.
You’d always enjoyed events like these—participating in the festival offered you a rare chance to relax and feel connected to your classmates outside of the usual seriousness you maintained as class president. Here, you were just another student, painting stars, hearts, and stripes on familiar faces.
“Hey, what’s up? Need a painter?” your friend Taeyoung called out to the next group approaching your booth. You followed his gaze and felt your heart skip when you recognized Jungwon and his friends heading your way, laughing and jostling each other. He wore a loose festival shirt with sleeves rolled up, a casual look that somehow made him even more handsome. You quickly glanced down, suddenly hyper-aware of your paintbrushes and the paper towels you clutched a little too tightly.
The booth was busy, and with most of your fellow painters occupied, it didn’t take long for Taeyoung to pair Jungwon with you. “Hey, Y/N, looks like you’ve got a VIP customer! Captain Jungwon wants to be a canvas today,” he said, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he nudged Jungwon playfully.
Jungwon chuckled, but there was a flicker of something else in his eyes—an eagerness mixed with a hint of shyness. “Yeah, I guess I’m in your hands now,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “No pressure, right?”
You swallowed hard, trying to maintain your composure as your heart raced. “Uh, right! No pressure at all,” you replied, your voice a little too bright. “What do you have in mind?”
You forced yourself to meet Jungwon’s eyes, fighting back the nervous excitement bubbling in your chest. “So… what would you like?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.
Jungwon’s usual confident smile softened a little, and he seemed slightly hesitant, rubbing the back of his neck, a gesture that made your stomach flutter. “Maybe a couple of stars on my cheeks? And… maybe a small cat on my forehead?”
You stifled a laugh at his request, realizing that behind his composed demeanor, he had a playful side you hadn’t seen before. “A star and a cat. Got it,” you whispered, dipping your brush into white paint. You reached out carefully to steady his face, tilting it slightly toward the light. Your fingers lightly touched his cheek, and you couldn’t ignore the spark that jolted through you at the contact.
Jungwon closed his eyes briefly, letting out a small breath. You tried to ignore the slight flush you felt creeping up your neck, focusing on drawing a perfect star on his left cheek. You painted in silence, but every so often, he’d open his eyes and glance at you, making your heart race each time.
With one cheek finished, you moved to the other side. He leaned in closer, giving you the perfect angle. The space between you seemed to shrink with every second, the sounds of the bustling festival fading into a distant hum. You were hyper-aware of everything—the faint scent of his cologne, the warmth radiating from him, and how your fingers gently brushed his skin. When you finished with the stars, you pulled back slightly to look at your work, meeting his gaze as you did.
“They look good,” he murmured, his voice softer than usual.
You swallowed, breaking eye contact to reach for a new brush and dip it in black paint. “Now for the cat,” you said, trying to stay calm. “Hold still.”
You carefully moved to part his hair at the center of his forehead. As your fingers brushed through his bangs, you froze, your eyes widening as you saw something strange—a small patch of his dark hair was shifting, lightening to a soft honey-blonde under your touch.
“Um… Jungwon,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath as you stared at the transformed lock of hair falling against his forehead. “Your hair…”
“What about it?” He turned to you with a hint of confusion, glancing up as if trying to catch a glimpse of the change. “Did I mess it up?”
You shook your head, the words tangling in your throat as disbelief washed over you. “It’s… it’s changing color.”
He blinked, clearly caught off guard, then brushed his fingers through the area you’d touched. His movements stilled, the warmth in his expression fading, replaced by something deeper—something unreadable. The air thickened around you, a heavy silence filled with unspoken questions.
“Are you sure?” he asked quietly, his gaze searching yours as if trying to decode the truth hidden beneath your surprise.
You nodded slowly, your heart racing. “Yeah, I… I thought it was just the paint at first, but… it’s definitely not.”
The realization hung in the air, electric and palpable, igniting a spark of tension that sent shivers down your spine. Jungwon’s fingers gently traced the newly lightened strands of hair, his expression a mix of wonder and trepidation. You could feel your pulse quicken, an exhilarating rush flooding through you as you grasped the meaning behind this strange phenomenon.
Time seemed to stretch in that moment, each heartbeat echoing like a drum in your chest. Here he was, the boy you’d admired from afar, unexpectedly transformed before your eyes. Jungwon—the one who had unwittingly painted your world in vibrant colors, now literally changing right in front of you.
Suddenly, self-consciousness washed over you like a cold wave. You averted your gaze, stepping back instinctively. “I—I should go finish with the others. They’re probably waiting for me…” Your voice wavered, betraying the rush of emotions threatening to spill over.
Before you could dwell on it, a paint container wobbled on the edge of the table, knocking into your elbow. In your panic, you stumbled, sending brushes and colors sprawling over yourself. “Oh no!” you yelped, scrambling to clean up the mess.
“Y/N, wait!” Jungwon exclaimed, his eyes widening in surprise. He stepped closer, his hand closing around yours, halting your frantic movements. “Stop. Just breathe.”
His grip was steadying, grounding you amidst the chaos of your racing thoughts. “Let’s find somewhere quiet, okay? You need to clean up.” His voice held a calmness that contrasted sharply with the storm inside you.
You felt a rush of warmth at his concern, but your mind spun with confusion. “But… the booth—”
“Trust me,” he said, his gaze unwavering, a silent promise passing between you. “Just for a moment. Let’s talk.”
With a nod, you allowed him to guide you away from the festival’s noise, your heart racing not just from the moment, but from the undeniable connection building between you. The thrill of discovery was tempered by the anxiety of what it all meant, and yet, in Jungwon’s presence, you felt something shift—something new and exciting, just waiting to be explored.
He led you through a quieter section of the campus, where the walls were lined with colorful murals painted by students, the air filled with the faint scent of paint and creativity. The laughter and chatter from the festival faded into the background, replaced by the gentle rustle of leaves overhead and the distant sound of music drifting from the booths.
As you turned a corner, Jungwon paused, the air around you suddenly thick with anticipation. He glanced around, ensuring you were alone, then leaned against the cool brick wall, his posture relaxed yet focused. His gaze locked onto yours, intensity radiating from him. “My hair… it’s slowly turning blond. Isn’t this what soulmate marks are supposed to be like?”
His words hung in the air, electrifying the space between you. You felt the weight of the moment press down, your heart racing like a wild drum in your chest. “Right… your soulmate mark,” you stammered, the tremor in your voice betraying the chaos inside. “I didn’t want to say anything because I thought it might just be a coincidence, but now… it's all starting to make sense.”
Jungwon stepped closer, the seriousness in his expression deepening. “You mean you knew?” His voice was low, the edge of urgency evident. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
The air crackled with tension, and you felt your pulse quicken. “I didn’t know it was you! I thought—” you cut yourself off, frustration bubbling within you. “I didn’t want to ruin our friendship or make things awkward. You’ve been my crush longer than you’ve been a friend. Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep things from being awkward with you, especially when my mark changed?”
Jungwon’s expression shifted, vulnerability breaking through his confidence. “Your mark... is it.… when did it change? Am I—was it before… or after we met?” His voice was tight, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air.
You took a deep breath, feeling the memories rush back. “The day you carried me to the nurse’s office, you idiot.”
He blinked, taken aback by your response. “Wait… that day? But I thought...”
His expression softened slightly, the intensity in his eyes shifting as he took a step closer. You held your breath as he knelt down, his fingers hovering over your soulmate mark. The moment felt electric, a mix of vulnerability and anticipation coursing through you.
“Can I…?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
You nodded, giving him permission to touch it. As his fingers brushed against your skin, a shiver ran down your spine. Jungwon chuckled softly, the sound breaking some of the tension between you. “Can you believe this? It feels just like yesterday when I accidentally hit my crush with a soccer ball at her knees,” he said, shaking his head with a bemused smile. “The same crush I’ve wanted to approach since 10th grade but was always too afraid to mess up, especially with how she glares at boys.”
You couldn’t help but laugh, the image of a younger Jungwon fumbling with his words as he tried to impress you suddenly vivid in your mind. “I didn’t mean to scare you off,” you admitted, your heart swelling with warmth. “I thought you were just… confident, you know?”
He shrugged, a hint of shyness creeping back into his demeanor. “I try to be. But it’s hard when you’re crushing on someone who’s out of your league.”
“Out of my league?” you repeated, incredulous. “Jungwon, you’re the captain of the soccer team! Everyone looks up to you.”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I’m not nervous around you,” he replied, his gaze locking onto yours, sincerity pouring from his words. “It’s different with you. You make me want to be better.”
The air between you thickened with unspoken emotions, each heartbeat echoing the connection that had always been there, waiting to be acknowledged. You both stood on the edge of something monumental, the laughter of the festival fading away, leaving only the two of you and the promise of what lay ahead.
The next day, Jungwon strolled confidently down the hallway, his head of hair transformed into a stunning honeyed blonde that turned heads with every step. The shift was striking—bold, noticeable, and oddly fitting—making it seem as though he had always intended to embrace this change. Whispers and awestruck glances followed him like a gentle wave, yet beneath that cool exterior, you could see the spark of mischief in his eyes, especially when they met yours.
“Wow, he really went all out,” Arin murmured beside you, her voice a mix of surprise and admiration. “He must’ve bleached the whole thing. I didn’t think Jungwon had that in him.”
You nodded, trying to maintain your composure while your heart raced. “Yeah… surprising, isn’t it?” you replied, though a smile betrayed your nonchalance as you watched him navigate the crowd like he owned the place.
Unaware of the true significance of his transformation, your classmates continued their commentary. “Looks good on him, though,” one girl remarked, her tone infused with genuine admiration. “Like he was meant to have it all along.”
Jungwon seemed completely unfazed by the attention, wearing his new look with a blend of pride and ease, as if his blonde hair was a badge of honor that only you understood. It was a mark that connected the two of you in ways that no one else could fathom—an intimate secret wrapped in boldness.
As the hallway thinned out, he lingered by his locker, his casual demeanor slipping just a bit as he caught your gaze from across the hall. He lifted a hand, brushing back his hair with an effortless charm that sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach—a subtle nod to the secret you shared.
You walked over, your heart pounding just a little faster than usual. “It suits you,” you said, keeping your voice low, the air between you thick with unspoken words.
His eyes softened, gratitude shimmering in their depths. “Good to know,” he murmured, his tone low but filled with warmth. “After all, it’s your fault it looks this good.”
A faint blush crept up your cheeks at his words, and before you could respond, he leaned in slightly, lowering his voice even more as he added, “And don’t worry. The secret’s safe.”
In that crowded hallway, with laughter and footsteps echoing around you, it felt like you and Jungwon were enveloped in your own little world. His blonde hair, like a silent vow, was a reminder of what only the two of you understood: a hidden connection, pulsing with promise and anticipation, waiting to be explored.
#jungwon#enhypen au#yang jungwon#fanfiction#fluff#enhypen#heeseung#kpop#ni ki#sunghoon#jungwon fluff#jungwon angst#yang jungwon x reader#enhypen scenarios#yang jungwon angst#jungwon x reader#jungwon smut#enhypen smut#yang jungwon smut#enhypen fluff#enhypen x you#enhypen drabbles#enhypen smau#enhypen fic#park jeongseong#kim sunoo#enhypen sunoo#enha sunoo#enha x reader#niki smut
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his treasure- sylus x reader
pairing: dragon!sylus x fem!reader cw/tags: MDNI, monster fucking-ish(?), size diference, p in v, sucking breasts genre: smut + drabble a/n: this is just inspo from his new myth that's coming out and omgee im so excited ٩(^ᗜ^)و i hope everyone that wants his memory gets it! enjoy reading! (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡
no one dared to enter the dragon’s cave. the tales of hidden riches of gold, jewels, and treasures beyond anyone’s dreams laid all out by a fearsome dragon who kept it all to himself.
groups and groups of townspeople have set out on the journey to see if the stories were true but have never returned to tell the horrible tale of what they have witnessed.
as they stepped into the cave, piles of gold in every corner of the room, mixed in with a pile of jewels and treasures they’ve heard from the tales. but as they stepped further in they witnessed the beast itself.
there he was, on top of a girl, marks littered all over her body as she whimpered in ‘pain’. his wings shielded over his and her body and the possible true horrors of what he’s done to her.
they had dug their own graves, foolishly shouting at the beast and raising their weapons as if it were to intimate him. the dragon- sylus, lifts his head from your neck. his growl menacing and filled with annoyance.
the torches that lined along the walls extinguished in an instant, the dragon striking each and every man that had decided to trespass his lair that day.
each time the townspeople refused to learn from the past group, stubbornly believing they would succeed with the dragon slain with hoards of golds and jewels in tow.
as weeks and months passed by, the townspeople's expeditions dwindled until no one dared to try again anymore.
at last, he has you all to himself. no more foolish humans to bother and no distractions. just him and you.
-
he laid you down onto the plush carpet, better than the rough surface he calls his throne. around you flickered the glow of candles, leaving a warm glow around both of your bodies.
sylus leans forward, placing a kiss on your nipple before looking up at you. his tongue slowly rolls around your bud, sucking it gently after. he found himself groaning, nuzzling against the valley of your breasts.
biting your lip, you watch as sucks the other, his eyes never leaving yours as his tongue continues to tease you. his warm mouth surrounds your nipple as his fangs barely graze your soft skin.
with a quiet pop, he pulls off your breasts, a string of saliva keeping him and your breasts connected. he sits up, his crimson eyes traced the delicate curves of your body.
his tail coiled around you, wrapping you to keep you in place. the scales brushed against your skin, prickling you and leaving small marks. he made sure to lick each and every mark he had left, his tongue gliding across your skin making the lingering sting begin to fade.
sylus was always tender at times like this, treating you like find gold- not counting what he’s like during his heat.
you gasp, your eyes fluttering shut as you continue to rock yourself below him.
he was big, almost too big for your liking. it took some time getting used too and no matter how many times you both fucked, your pussy was always so tight around him, the stretch burning you so deliciously.
his hard cock too thick and long to fit inside of you as he ruts between your thighs, shaking your whole entire body. its rough edges massaged your walls good that your drools pooled down to your neck.
your body twitched and trembled as he continued to plow into you and you knew he was getting closer. your walls were squeezing him and had him near the edge, ready to spill his load deep inside of you.
his eyes fluttered shut, tilting his head back. groans escaping his lips as his hips picked up the pace. your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you felt a slight burn on the lower half of your body.
his knot stretched into you wider, his bulge in your lower abdomen growing as hot loads painted your walls creamy white.
he growls, careful not to place his claws on you. you were so tight, so warm, so perfect. his mind was spinning as his heart raced.
even with all this fine gold and jewels in this cave nothing can compare to the treasure he has cradled in his arms.
#sylus x reader#sylus x you#sylus x y/n#sylus love and deepspace#sylus lads#love and deepspace#love and deepspace x reader#sylus l&ds#sylus lnd#sylus imagine#sylus smut#lads sylus#sylus#lnds sylus#l&ds sylus#sylus qin#love and deep space x reader#love and deep space#love and deepspace fic#lads x you#lads x reader
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𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐒 | sae, kaiser, rin, reo and isagi
𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ; take a look, trust me!
plot: domestic shit because I love fluff stuff 🌷 the characters chosen seem to me to be the most "visible" with little girls... so yeah. I'm actually not very sure of the result, maybe I'll delete it sooner or later to do it again
— sae itoshi
If there was one thing Sae had understood since becoming a parent, it was that having two children was complicated. On one hand he was now understanding all of his mother's concerns when, as children, Rin was unmanageable
We know however that males, if brothers, are somehow a little more manageable. Females, if sisters, are not. He was the father of two girls
As much as he loved them, he agreed with you when you said it would have been better to wait a few more years. But then he looks at his girls in the face, he regrets even thinking about it a little, because he loves them too much
In his eyes he sees him and Rin when they were kids: Sayami, the eldest, looks awfully like him because of her reddish hair, but in character she is like you. Semika, the youngest, is different from him in appearance but identical in character. Sayami brings out Semika's very hidden, but existing, sociable side. The only trait that makes girls similar are those damned undereyelashes that have marked the Itoshi family for generations
“Love, when are you going to let them go?”
"No."
"Sae, we've already talked about this..."
"I said no"
"Sae."
"I already said no, Y/n.”
"Y'know, they're already 7 years old. Sooner or later it will happen..."
"Not as long as I'm alive"
...a simple child had asked Sayami if she and her sister wanted to go play with him. Sae took their hand and walked out of the park as fast as he could with his treasures
✶ Sae tries hard to talk with her little girls. In a relationship not talking, or in any case having some communication problems, can be understood... with little girls no, because they would take it as a rejection. He ALWAYS goes out of his way to talk to them as much as possible, also because he loves the moments when they come home from school and, together, they chat about what happened during the day
✶ Let's be honest, Sae doesn't have much other knowledge or passions apart soccer, which was probably imposed on him as a child. He has not the slightest intention of making any of his girls leave school: if like him they end up having to change country to follow a sport, Sae will have to be absolutely sure that they are studying at the same time. He doesn't want them to be like him, because he knows how difficult is that life
Favorite father-daughter(s) activity: resting with them. Sae is often busy with his career, training and of course with his beautiful wife, but he always tries to make time in the evenings (if he's not out of town for a match) with his daughters. He likes to lie down on the bed or on the sofa, before dinner, with the girls who tell him everything exciting they did that day
When you and your little girl(s) show up at one of his games: he hides it well but LOVES when you come to watch him play. If he is normally a prodigy, in front of his daughters he must seem even better. When he scores a goal the first thing he would do is turn towards you, no celebration because it's not his style, but he would wave to his daughters who are cheering for him from the stands. Once the game is over he would ignore the interviewers, as he normally does, and simply come to you to claim his victory kiss
— kaiser micheal
Having children, whether boys or girls, was NOT in Michael's plan. I mean, how can someone who had such a complicated childhood have children? Even if he hides it, he has an enormous fear of being able to make someone of his own blood suffer, voluntarily or not, what he has experienced. He just knows that if something has to happen, it happens. And he doesn't know what fate has in store for his possible heir. He might hate his kid and disown him or her like his parents, if they can be called in that way, did with him
When he found out that he was going to become a father, and with a daughter, he seriously thought for a few moments about simply walking away. Not that he hated you, he couldn't, but it was really strange for him to think that someone of his own blood, his kid, was about to born
Kaiser can't explain how all the worries he had collapsed the moment he held Anneliese, his daughter, in his arms for the first time. Just by seeing and hearing her, he wondered how he could even remotely think that he could hypothetically hurt such a wonderful being
Anneliese quickly became the center of Kaiser's world, along of course with the beautiful mother of his little girl. It can be said that his daughter is a shameless copy of him, both in appearance and character: long, blonde hair, proud and always challenging temperament. One might doubt that she is your daughter but not that she is not Kaiser's. She is liteeerally him
...Sitting on the sofa, Anneliese is watching one of her father's old match. The assist with a teammate ends badly, but the ball returns to Kaiser's possession again and he scores a goal
“Dad, the next time you pass the ball to someone unworthy, I will be even more angry than I am now!”
"I understand, don't worry. I can't make my little girl angry again, can I?"
"Mihya, on the field you have to do what you feel, don't listen to her..."
"How can I not listen to our little girl, Schatz?"
✶ Kaiser loves to take his daughter with him everywhere: whether it's to an interview, to training or to a match, Anneliese is almost certainly with him or next to you. He loves when you and your little girl cheer for him during a match, even more if he knows that if he scores there will be your lips kissing him and the little girl's little arms hugging him. He shows a lot his family and his being a fantastic father (you tell him too, he's a little insecure about this) in front of his teammates. The emperor's family!
✶ Ness is practically the little girl's uncle. He never stopped idolizing Micheal, even more so when he discovered that now there was no longer just one Kaiser but two. Micheal is slightly jealous, he doesn't like that his daughter spends so much time with Ness... he hates seeing his Anneliese so happy with an adult other than him or her mother
Favorite father-daughter(s) activity: he loves when his daughter plays with his hair, especially with the blue parts. Seeing the cerulean blue on his little girl's pale hands, as she braids it or whatever it is, makes him tender. He once dreamed of Anneliese with the exact same hair as him and he admits he wouldn't mind seeing her that way. Maybe blue tipped hair could be the Kaiser's new trademark
When you and your little girl(s) show up at one of his games: whenever you and Anneliese come to a game, the first thing he makes sure to do is that you have a seat in the VIP section. He loves seeing the stadium celebrate for him because his family is there to see him, it's something that feeds his ego. As soon as the match was over he would have you go down onto the field with him, the little girl in his arm and his other arm around your waist as he holds you close to him
— rin itoshi
In his mind Rin, the few times he imagined himself, he always saw himself as the father of a son, and nothing more. Not brothers, as much as he actually liked the idea, just a child and above all a boy. He would have been happy like that
As much as he liked the idea of a possible second child, with his job he wouldn't be able to dedicate the time he knows children deserve. At the same time he doesn't want to leave all the work to you, because parenting is something that is usually done by two. One child would have been enough
He doesn't know how but at a certain point in his life, he found himself with three daughters, all of whom were no more than two years apart. At first it was just a child, your beautiful Ayaka, then suddenly Homura also appeared and finally Rika
The idea of just one boy dematerialized pretty quickly. But he loves his girls so much that, when sometimes he thinks of his original idea, he curses himself: how could he deprive himself of the presence and love of his girls?
All the girls resemble him tremendously, both in character (the one before the incident with Sae) and in appearance, obviously talking about the undereyelashes signed 'Itoshi'. Ayaka, only, is the female version of her father. Homura and Rika have taken something from their mother, but Ayaka could almost resemble Sae too... well, he is her uncle after all, right?
"Dad, Rika doesn't pass the ball when she plays!"
"You can't handle it either, Homura! You can't even pass me games at home!"
"Girls, calm down"
"Learn to score on goal first, before complaining"
...The situation seemed to be calm under Rin's control, but Ayaka broke the calm by scoring a perfect goal into the net of the private home soccer field. New prodigy?
✶ Rin often thinks about what might happen if, in the future, he ever does something that could divide her daughters. He has no preference between them, but he is always terrified that he might do something wrong that could create inequalities that he doesn't want, because in a certain sense, what happened between him and Sae must not happen in another generation of the Itoshi. He bond and love between his daughters must exist forever, not deteriorate as happened with his Nii Chan
✶ He would try to get his daughters to try as many sports as possible. As much as Rin loves soccer, his choice was influenced by the fact that Sae played it... what if he was now a world champion in, idk, volleyball? NO OKAY. He simply likes to make all 3 try new things, looking for something that maybe they could dedicate themselves with passion
Favorite father-daughter(s) activity: when his little girls organize themselves to do makeup on him. He's got a pretty mysterious look to maintain, but if Homura has decided that he's going to show up at practice tomorrow wearing orange nail polish, he'll show up that way. Not that he has any problem fighting anyone who has something to say against him, but no one dares. Rin loves to see them concentrate while putting on mascara or a completely disgusting shade of lipstick
When you and your little girl(s) show up at one of his games: if he knows that you are there to see him play, he will do everything to score as many goals as possible and, above all, quickly: he wants to keep his girls' expectations high. Once he scored a goal he would raise his hand to the sky, waiting for his girls to do the same thing because it has now become a gesture that only each other understands. At the end of the game the first thing he would do is go up to the stands to be with you, fuck his lukewarm teammates
— reo mikage
Looking after Nagi was like taking a pre parenting course. Nagi essentially has the needs of a child if you ignore the fact that he is 17 years old and 1.90cm tall, so Reo knows quite well what a child needs. Then, he always saw the maids in his house bring their young children to work when possible: Reo loved playing with them or picking them up, or just generally spending time with them. The idea of having children, sooner or later and with a special person, has actually always interested him. He always said to himself, but in reality he hoped, that he would find the person who would love him for simply being Reo and not for his money... and then you came along!
His idea has always been of only one child because he is afraid that, sooner or later, two possible children could fight over the money of the Mikage company. Everything is unpredictable, right? So he doesn't want to risk anything
His original idea was respected. When he held Hikari for the first time he simply understood that he wouldn't be able to create, obviously with you, such a cute and perfect being again
The only similarity that links Hikari to her father is the same hair color, that strong purple. For the rest she is completely her mother, and Reo loves this even more: it's cute to see a mini version of you, but with some of his features, walking around the house. His new sweet treasure!!
"So, this... this, yes, also this... that... this"
"Reo, honey, what are you doing with that newspaper?"
"Nothing dangerous. Don't worry"
"What are you doing though? You make me curious"
"I told you not to worry, honey. Trust me."
...Reo was marking all the objects, approximately 300, in a catalog of toys and children's products. If he has money, why can't he spend it if he knows it will make his daughter happy?
✶ The first person Reo told that he was going to be a father was obviously Nagi. Let's say that at first Seishiro wasn't really believing it, but when he saw that pregnancy test... oh... yes, he definitely believed it. It often happens that Hikari stays with Nagi for days at a time, as the little girl sees him as a giant she can annoy. Reo often tells his daughter not to bother Nagi too much, but it secretly makes him laugh to see Seishiro so awkward with Hikari because he doesn't know how to handle children (himself??)
✶ If there's one thing he would never do, it would be to push Hikari into running the Mikage company once she grows up. Reo hated living his childhood with the knowledge that he already had a predetermined destiny, and he doesn't want Hikari to have the same treatment. She want to become a doctor? It will become one. She want to become a farmer? It will become one. She want to become president of the world? It will become one. He simply wants her to do what she loves
Favorite father-daughter(s) activity: travel the world with his daughter or of course with you too. The money is there, and what better way is there to spend it than learning and traveling? Hikari, at less than 5 years old, had already visited half the world. Reo loves taking her to different places and seeing her reactions so amazed. His favorite will remain forever when they arrived in New York, where Hikari didn't stop smiling for a second
When you and your little girl(s) show up at one of his games: it is obvious to say that he would pay to let you have the VIP of the VIP, his girls deserve the best, right?. He would feel amazing among all his teammates knowing that his family is there for him while there is no one for them. At the end of the game he would let the cameras record him hugging you and Hikari, why would he hide all the love he has for you from the cameras?
— isagi yoichi
Isagi was relatively happy as a child: his parents loved him, he played the sport he loved, he didn't do badly at school. Everything was happy for him in his early life. The only thing he often noticed were his classmates with older or younger siblings, who yeah argued with each other, but at the same time loved each other very much. He didn't suffer from loneliness from being the only child, not that, but he was always intrigued by the concept of not being the only child in the family
Since you've been dating seriously, and even before actually, he's always thought that his future family would model what he had: loving parents, one child, two if they had the chance
When Fujiko was born there was this plan in his mind: okay, now we dedicate ourselves to her, we give her everything she needs... then, if we want, we will have another child. Both you and Yoichi were very convinced that a max of 5 years after the birth of the kid you would try again, but Fujiko filled your lives so much that you decided that only she was good for the whole life
Fujiko's appearance bears little resemblance to her father's, maybe just a few facial features. If we talk about character, however, everything changes completely: it's a kind of Isagi 2.0, the same determination coupled with a lot of kindness. We will find out later if she also has bipolar disorder on and off the field like her dad- WHO SAID THAT??
"Fujiko, why aren't there any more pencil in your pencilcase?"
"Mom, I had to give them to some friends. Otherwise they couldn't write what the teacher said"
"This kindness reminds me of someone"
"Who? Who? Who?"
"Think about it: who do you consider to be the kindest person in the world?"
"My dad!"
...doing homework with your daughter, you noticed that some things were missing. Isagi is kind, one of the kindest in the world; when you told him about it he was perplexed, because he too would have done the exact same thing... just like his little girl
✶ Having now become a professional striker, he often does not have the opportunity to spend long periods at home due to champions or special training sessions. When this happens he is happy to leave because soccer is his passion anyway, on the other hand he dies inside every time he hugs his daughter or you for the last time. He loves his family, he would like to always be with you and Fujiko because you give him courage, but he understands that always moving with him from city to city, or even from country to country, is complicated and, above all, tiring
✶ He would like to direct Fujiko towards soccer, but at the same time he knows that he cannot choose something that is actually up to her. He has the belief that Fujiko would probably be good as him, unlocking her own version of the meta vision, but he prefers to see her little girl happy with the things she has chosen and loves
Favorite father-daughter(s) activity: he likes when they watch the games Isagi has already played. Television often replays reruns of recent or even old matches, and whenever Isagi is present on the field, Fujiko is the first to ask to watch them together. Yoichi enjoys seeing her so amazed by the actions on the field, commenting on anything that she doesn't understand because she rightfully doesn't know the rules of soccer. The thing that amuses him most is explaining to her who are the people he passes the ball, whether they are his friends or not, but now for Fujiko there is only Bachira with the title of dad's friend
When you and your little girl(s) show up at one of his games: the mere fact that you come to see him play is a lot for him, but since you and Fujiko once showed up wearing a jacket that said "biggest fan of number 11" on the back, he understood that he didn't it would matter if he were to be burned alive if he did it for you. Unfortunately the insults would always be there, but he would try to contain himself in front of his little girl. At the end of the game the first thing he would do is come to you and let you onto the field, making you celebrate with him
#blue lock#blue lock x female reader#blue lock x y/n#blue lock x you#blue lock x reader#blue lock imagines#sae itoshi#itoshi sae#kaiser michael#micheal kaiser#rin itoshi#itoshi rin#reo mikage#mikage reo#isagi yoichi#yoichi isagi#sae itoshi x reader#itoshi sae x y/n#itoshi sae x reader#micheal kaiser x reader#kaiser x reader#kaiser x you#rin itoshi x reader#itoshi rin x reader#rin itoshi x you#reo mikage x reader#reo x you#isagi x you#isagi x reader#bllk x reader
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under the table
description: you and sim jaeyun have been academic rivals for as long as you can remember, competing intensely to beat the other in every class you've ever shared. for years, you've hidden your feelings for him, burying them deep down where jake can't find them, and you're hellbent on ensuring he never discovers your secret.
word count: 22k
contents: academic rivals to academic rivals with benefits to lovers, lots of angst, slight crack at points, overuse of nicknames (angel, pretty, gorgeous, etc), jake is kinda mean in the beginning, heejayhoon are flirty frat boy menaces, reader works herself to exhaustion in one scene, jake is stupid with emotions, characters get drunk/drink a lot, lots of party scenes and wonyoung as your roommate/best friend bc she's the first idol i thought of
smut warnings below the cut
a/n: thank u to my lovely bff @seung-log for letting me bounce ideas off of you and for beta reading this fic and giving me encouragement the entire way! ilysm <3
now playing: under the table by banks
smut warnings: dom!jake, sub!reader, hard and soft dom jake, implications of sub!jake (my agenda y'all he had to be here somewhere), degradation (slut, whore, etc), praise, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!!), fingering, oral (m. and f. rec), handjob, titjob, multiple orgasms, squirting, hate fucking (kinda), cumming inside, cum swallowing, cum as lube (kinda), finger in ass (f. rec), orgasm delay, marking, biting, spit swallowing, dry humping, grinding, slight 'sir' kink, choking, slight size kink (big cock/tiny pussy), fucking with clothes on, overstimulation, crying, slight dacryphilia, clit pinching/slapping.
your eyes drag over your paper hurriedly, looking for the red ink splotched at the bottom of the page, skin tingling as blood rushes to your head.
95.
you flip your paper over, eyes darting to your side where a pair of big brown eyes are already staring back at you. jake raises an eyebrow at you, showing you the big fat 100 plastered on the top of his test sheet.
your nose scrunches as you attempt to not give any reaction to the fact that jake has beat you. once again.
“ha! knew it,” jake smirks, basking in his triumph.
“whatever, sim. you know physics is not my strongest subject.” you try to brush his statement off, but his gloating begins to get under your skin. you poke your tongue on the inside of your cheek, resisting the urge to smack him as he continues to sit there, simply staring. “what is it?”
jake shrugs, “nothing much, y/l/n, just the usual. enjoying the fact that i beat you for yet another week in a row.”
he’s absolutely over exaggerating, knowing you just topped his score in english literature yesterday. “whatever,” you repeat, not wanting to him to sense your sulkiness. “stop staring.” you wave a hand in front of his face to get him to look away, to which he relents after a moment.
jake would stare in shock and awe if he ever found out how this rivalry actually drives your anger. losing to him is always frustrating, of course, but nothing is more soul crushing than the butterflies bouncing around in your stomach every time jake looks at you and the way you fail to will them away every single time.
“wasn’t staring,” he disagrees, turning to face back towards the whiteboard, his leg beginning to bounce from the excess excitement.
“sure you weren’t,” you respond dryly, utterly too exhausted to deal with his bickering today. not with that way that stupid button up with rolled sleeves fits snugly on his biceps, round silver rimmed glasses sitting lazily on his nose, strands of hair falling delicately across his face. to top it all off, he’s wearing a ring on his pointer finger, tapping it lightly against the edge of the desk. the sound is bothersome, but not as bothersome as how utterly attracted you are to the mere image of the metal around his long finger. long fingers that are attached to large hands that lead to buff, veiny arms and broad shoulders, the whole sight nearly making you drool.
he must know how absolutely attractive he is right now. he must.
“hey jake, you going to the party at heeseung’s frat tonight?” jungwon calls from the seat behind him.
jake turns, nodding slightly, “jay and hoon are forcing me to go, i told them i already had plans but they wouldn’t listen,” you scoff, digging through your backpack for your laptop, knowing his plans were simply to study the entire weekend, plans that completely mirrored your own. he glances at you with an eyebrow raised in confusion before turning back to jungwon. “why?”
“the sorority girls are all coming,” jungwon cracks a smile, the smugness in his voice dripping with every word that tumbles out. he lowers his voice, leaning in as you still, trying to listen to jungwon’s hushed tone. “karina’s gonna be there, bro.”
you freeze, eyes glancing up as you pray you’ve heard wrong. yu karina of phi mu royalty? the most gorgeous girl on campus who also, unfortunately for your cynical brain who wants so desperately to hate the girl, happens to be the kindest person on earth? of course jake would be interested in her, just like half the student body is.
jake nods slightly, muttering a “thanks, jungwon,” before turning back towards the front. you busy yourself with logging into your laptop, willing your brain to think about anything other than jake and karina together.
god, this is going to be a long day.
luckily enough, friday is the day where you only see jake once during your courses. you head home to your on campus apartment after the day ends, tired of your racing thoughts and hoping to recover in the confines of your warm blanket, cozied up with a good book and a cup of tea before doing some nightly revision.
you are not allowed such a reprieve from the day.
“y/nieeee!” wonyoung greets you at the door, a bright smile gracing her face. “we’re going out tonight!”
you drop your bag on the sofa before plopping down next to it, sinking deep into the cushions. “no, wony, we’re not going to heeseung’s party.”
her smile drops, pretty lips curling into a small frown, “why? and how did you even know there’s a party at heeseung’s tonight?”
“doesn’t matter. we’re absolutely not going.”
she huffs, stomping her foot lightly. “come onnnn y/n! don’t you ever get tired of working yourself to the bone week after week? i think you need a break, even if just for the night.”
you sigh, rubbing at your face with your hands, trying to fend off the impending headache that started on your walk from your classroom. you relent to her, a small sigh escaping your lips before you mutter, “jake’s going to be there.”
“and? don’t you want him to see your sexy ass in something skimpy?”
your cheeks burn at the insinuation of sim jake having his eyes on you in any context other than a negative one. “no, plus karina is going to be there. heard jungwon mentioning her specifically to him in physics today. so i’d rather not go and see something that’ll hurt my spirit more.” you pause for a moment, “he already beat my score on our physics quiz this morning, and i haven’t stopped thinking about him and her together all day. so can we please stay home?”
wonyoung sighs deeply, sitting down next to you. “who cares if they’re going to be there? you’re y/l/n y/n, you deserve to have a life outside of academics and obsessing over jake. and if he does get with her? then fuck him!”
you can feel your resolve breaking, knowing you can never truly say no to wonyoung with her pleading eyes and tiny pout.
“oh my god, fine.” you relent, sighing deeply when she jumps off of the couch with a little squeal. “oh i’m so excited! let’s go to your room, i know exactly what you’re going to wear.”
and that’s how you ended up standing outside heeseung’s frat house, your comfy tennis shoes contrasting the skin tight strappy black dress with a plunging neckline that wonyoung forced you to wear. “i’m not breaking my fucking ankle just so you can have more fun playing dress up, wony. it’s the dress and these shoes or i’m taking my ass there in sweatpants and no bra.”
“come on, let’s get a drink,” wonyoung grabs your hand and pushes her way through the crowd of bodies, “we’re probably gonna need it.”
“welcome ladies! wonyoung, nice to see you again.” you are both greeted by park jay mixing drinks when you step into the precipice of the kitchen. he does a double take when his eyes register you in front of him. “and y/n, wow! you look drop dead gorgeous. i’ve never seen you at one of these parties before.”
your cheeks burn lightly as you opt to ignore his comment, knowing jay’s reputation with the student body for being a man who… definitely gets around. wonyoung lets go of your hand, beginning to browse the drink options laid out on the kitchen island in front of her. “yeah, wonyoung made me.” you respond, coming to stand on the opposite side of jay as you eye the shaker in his hands. “you playing bartender?” he nods slightly. “what’s the strongest thing you can make me?”
jay chuckles in response as he pours what he was mixing in the tumbler. “here, try this,” he hands you the cup. you take a reluctant sip, the liquid going down with a strong burn. you shake your head lightly in response to the strength before downing the entire cup in a few gulps, needing the liquid confidence desperately.
“a woman after my own heart,” he stares for a moment before handing you another drink, this one pre-prepared. “try this one. don’t down it all at once though, i won’t be able to satisfy you if you keep that up.”
you nod, taking a small sip before a warm feeling begins to settle in your belly. “this one is tastier.”
“figured you’d like it, a sweet drink for a sweet girl.”
wonyoung cocks an eyebrow at him before shaking her head lightly at the way his gaze is completely on you, the ogling he’s giving your curves going right over your head but catching her attention instead. “me next, bartender.” he nods, turning back to face the counter. “your regular?” she nods in response, walking around him to slide up against you.
“you have a regular?” you giggle at her. wonyoung nods lightly, the small smile never leaving her lips, “jay’s been playing bartender for me since we were still in high school.”
jay makes wonyoung her drink and hands it over and the two of you exit the kitchen, opting to walk outside for some fresh air and maybe a free spot on the lawn to sit down at. there are small clumps of people scattered around the impeccably green lawn. people sip from cups and bottles, a few from cans. there are fairy lights strewn across the underside of the covered porch, and you wonder which frat member’s girlfriend convinced them to put them there. the moon illuminates the darker parts of the lawn, some of them coated in artificial light from various tiki torches strewn about aimlessly, stuck into the group roughly.
“wonyoung!” lee heeseung’s booming voice carries across the lawn from where heeseung and sunghoon are playing beer pong. “come join!”
you approach the table, “y/n, is that you?” you nod, smiling. “hi, heeseung.”
“is this your first frat party?” you nod again and he cracks a smile in response. “how are you enjoying it?”
“we just got here, so i haven’t seen much.” heeseung nods, scooting over on his side of the ping pong table.
“be my partner, wonyoung go stand by hoon.” you find nothing inside of you that wants to argue, knowing that you and heeseung get along, as much as two people who don’t know each other all that well can get along.
you glance up at heeseung as you stand next to him, “i’ve never played, heeseung.” his smile grows wider at your admission. “well, it’s our turn, so let me show you.”
heeseung moves you to stand in front of him, pressing you between the edge of the table and his wide t-shirt covered chest. “so grab the ball,” he places it in your hand before covering it with his own, much larger one. “aim, and toss!” heeseung guides you to toss the ball, it lands in one of the cups with a satisfying plop and you smile, glancing up at him where he’s smiling back down at you.
across the lawn, unbeknownst to you, an irritated sim jaeyun is ignoring his conversation with karina, watching the way heeseung is crowding your space and holding your hand. he’s not mad, no, why the hell would he be mad? he hates you. he’s got the yu karina in front of him giving him bedroom eyes, yet all he can focus on is the way heeseung presses himself against your back. jake feels the strange anger brewing inside his gut, completely checked out of his conversation with karina.
karina is here, ripe for the taking, absolutely willing and eager to flirt with jake, but all he can manage to do is stare at you, willing you with his mind to glance over at him, to see him standing here with her. he can’t believe you’re standing so close to his best friend, basically inviting him to fuck you in front of everyone here with your innocent stare.
wonyoung takes the cup and downs it, “next time let her throw for herself, hee.” sunghoon accuses, “no cheating in beer pong, man.”
“y/n’s never played!” heeseung defends, never moving from where he’s got you trapped, his body feeling so close and his towering size intimidating you a bit. “had to teach her, it’s the least i can do.”
before he can register how his body is reacting, jake’s leaving karina without so much as a second glance as his legs carry him over to the table. “move over hoon,” jake commands from the other side of the table. heeseung meets jake’s eye, having a silent conversation that not even sunghoon is privy to. heeseung gives sunghoon a look and sunghoon relents, allowing jake to take his place before wandering off to see jay in the kitchen and maybe find out if riki is passed out somewhere. wonyoung catches your gaze, her eyes as confused as yours are at the sudden intrusion. “gonna school you, y/n, just like i did in physics this morning.”
you roll your eyes while heeseung feels your body tense in his hold. “it’s okay, we got this. jake sucks at beer pong.” he says lowly, smiling to reassure you. you nod your head in response.
jake does, in fact, suck at beer pong, a fact you become well aware of within his first few throws. usually jake is decent at beer pong! but heeseung has watched jake down multiple drinks this evening, and when jake gets drunk, his beer pong skills significantly drop off. jake swears under his breath with every miss, hatred brewing behind his gaze every time he sees the way heeseung keeps you held in place, the way the pair of you celebrate every successful toss with a small high five, heeseung’s hand dwarfing yours in size.
“you lose, jakey boy,” heeseung announces as you sink the last ball with a bit of guidance from him. jake downs the last cup before slamming it back down on the table, the flimsy plastic being crushed beneath his hand a bit. heeseung gives you a squeeze of the shoulders and one last high five, “don’t be a sore loser, man.” heeseung moves, finally letting you escape as you walk to meet wonyoung at the other end of the table. heeseung grabs jake by the scruff of his neck, guiding him to another part of the backyard.
“god, that was so weird.” wonyoung shakes her head, “why was jake so mad? and heeseung is being weird too…”
the words swim in your own brain. was jake mad that you were there at all? you’ve never been to one of heeseung’s parties before, so that could be it, he could feel like you’re intruding on his space. you’d feel the same way if he ever raided one of you and wonyoung’s girls’ nights; though wonyoung would argue that that is a completely different situation if she ever heard your battling thoughts. was it because heeseung was so close to you? did he think you were cheating at beer pong like sunghoon did? that’s just too many questions for your already intoxicated brain to handle. your heart swelled at the fleeting thought that maybe he was angry that heeseung was close to you for an entirely different reason, completely unrelated to the game or his urge to beat you in every aspect of your shared existence.
“i think it’s time for us to go home,” you interject her ramblings, the entire situation beginning to overwhelm you, “i’m feeling tired.”
wonyoung eyes you with a raised eyebrow and a slightly squeaky whine as the two of you walk inside, “we just got here! come dance with me at least for a little bit.”
across the lawn, heeseung is scolding jake. “why are you being a fucking asshole to y/n, bro? she’s just trying to have a good time.”
“me? being an asshole? that’s rich coming from you, you we’re basically fucking her against the table, heeseung!”
heeseung rolls his eyes, knowing he was being very tame in comparison to some of the compromising situations jake has seen him in before. and it’s not like you or heeseung felt that way about each other. “i knew you’d be mad at that. jake, open your fucking eyes. people who actually hate each other don’t feel that way you do about her.”
jake’s drunk mind refuses to relent to heeseung’s words, always needing to be right and knowing heeseung is dead wrong, “shut the fuck up, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“i do, actually, and i know better than you do.” heeseung shakes his head, sighing, “you’re too stubborn for your own good, sim.”
“fuck off man,” jake shakes himself out of heeseung’s grasp, heading inside for god only knows what reason. just to get away from heeseung and from his confusing thoughts of you, he supposes, in his far too drunk mind.
wonyoung tugs you into the living room that’s been taken over as a dance floor, but you tear away from her before she can drag you into the sea of people, trying to avoid dancing entirely. “i’m going to find the bathroom,” wonyoung’s attention is grabbed by a mutual friend of yours and she stays to chat with them, watching you stumble into a nearby hallway out of the corner of her eye, following your figure until you disappear around a corner, worry bubbling in her gut.
someone stumbles into you, nearly knocking you onto your ass. “hey, watch where you’re g-”
your sentence is cut off by someone pressing you against the wall in the dark corner of the hall, your eyes rising to meet a pair of pretty brown ones, jake’s pupils wide from how buzzed he is right now. you can feel yourself tensing in his hold, both scared and turned on from the mere proximity of his body. the heat of his body overwhelms you as he places one hand on your waist, the other against the wall at the side of your head, trapping you in place beneath his towering frame. “get off of me, sim,” you push against his chest, his body not moving an inch. fuck him and his broad shoulders and his thick, toned arms.
“are you trying to piss me off or something?” jake seethes, and you can see the anger in his eyes and the way he grips your hip tightly, threatening to leave a bruise. “trying to fuck all my friends? just opening your legs for every one of them like a whore?”
“fuck off, jake!” you argue, anger bubbling as you watch his eyes scan across your face, trying to ignore the bubbling arousal building in your gut, overwhelmed by his voice, eyes, presence, all of him being so terrifyingly close to you. “if i wanted to fuck all your friends, i already would’ve!”
jake’s hand next to your head is suddenly gripping your chin, forcing your head to look up further and stare up at his face. he sucks at the inside of his cheek, trying to reel his anger back in. “listen here, princess. none of my friends would ever fuck you, so stop trying before you embarrass yourself. you’re pathetic,” he moves his hand from your chin to wrap around your throat lazily. you can’t help the way your panties stick to you, wetness growing at the sight of him degrading you, his big hand wrapped around your delicate neck. you can feel your brain slipping already. “you’re worthless, do you understand me?”
you nod dumbly, swallowing a bit of spit to keep yourself from drooling.
“good girl,” is all his drunk brain can tell you, voice gravelly and lower than you’ve ever heard. his vocal tone makes the feeling in the pit of your stomach reignite. “remember your place, doll.” you nod mindlessly again before he lets go of your throat, his hand at your waist shoving you away from him. “get out of here before i have to teach you a lesson.”
monday rolls around unceremoniously, and knowing you’ll have to see jake first thing this morning is making you consider skipping class entirely.
you shake your head, knowing that nobody, especially not a man, is worth jeopardizing your grades over. no matter how annoyingly attractive he is.
you plop down in your seat, ready for the lecture. jake saunters in, his usual smile plastered on his face before it drops at the mere sight of you. your heart sinks, knowing that even your academic rivalry has never produced that sort of reaction from him.
“so, you and heeseung, huh?”
jake sits down next to you, eyeing you inquisitively. “what? absolutely not!” you hiss, “why the hell would you think that, sim?”
“beer pong,” he mentions, in a tone that makes you feel like you’re stupid. “i don’t like heeseung and i know he doesn’t like me. be serious now, jake.” you scold him, desperately hoping he’ll drop this.
“didn’t seem like it to me,” is all he says before tugging his laptop out of his bag and watching as the professor walks in the classroom.
“whatever, sim,” you brush him off, and the rest of your sentence gets caught on your tongue. “not like i care what you think,” you wish you could say, despite knowing just how much of a lie it is.
“good morning everyone, i finally have your test from last week fully graded,” your history teacher greets everyone and begins winding up and down the aisles, handing back papers with various numbers scribbled on top of each.
she places your paper gently on your desk, a huge smile greeting your face once you see the large 100 sitting on top in deep red ink.
“don’t start gloating now, princess. i got the same. you're not special,” jake’s words kill your remaining semblance of a good mood, feeling like he’s being meaner than he usually is.
“jake it’s 8 am, stop being such an asshole so early in the morning.” you fight, shoving the paper in your bag unceremoniously, missing the small frown that flits across his features. his thoughts flick back to heeseung scolding him at the party, making the frown grow on his face. you nose scrunches at his actions not turning you on like they normally did, instead just making you angry at him.
he shouldn’t feel bad, he really shouldn’t, and he's tricked his brain into thinking he truly doesn't care. your relationship has always been like this. something about seeing you this weekend made jake extra angry, and you’re the one he needs to take it out on. and if he kills your mood to match his already bad one? then all the better for his ego, annoying you being one of his favorite past times.
he continues his nasty quips throughout the rest of class, ones you try your hardest to ignore but somehow they slip under your armor and make hits at your fragile heart every single time.
after spending your down time studying in the library, you reach your next course and sit next to jake in math, leg bouncing roughly at the anxiety brewing at the thought of losing to jake again.
“oh thank god,” you sigh in relief, a 99 with a large circle sitting at the top of your surprise quiz from last week. jake feels his face twitch as he glances over to find your test sporting a higher score. he never loses to you in math, and he can feel his anger boiling.
“lucky break, y/n,” he bites, not missing the way your eyes turn downcast silently instead of fighting him with a quick, competitive response. jake doesn’t know why the sight of you ignoring him and not even arguing back makes his heart twinge.
class after class for the rest of the week, you keep topping jake’s score, but you can’t bring it in yourself to care. you feel like his combative words are filled with real venom now, versus the usual merely competitive undertones that they carry. sure, you enjoy when he’s mean sometimes, but it feels like he’s somehow crossed an imaginary line between sexy and hateful. and your brain can only take so much negative rhetoric before you’re closing in on yourself, blurring the edges of your consciousness to prevent any more hurt from being cast upon your body and mind. you barely stumble your way through the week, struggling to even drag yourself to class every day, knowing you’ll be met with his usually soft brown eyes staring daggers into your side profile.
you’re so worn down from the emotional toll this week has taken on you that you don’t even care that wonyoung shoves you into another tiny dress and drags you to another party hosted by heeseung. you choose to keep your inner turmoil to yourself, and wonyoung relents, allowing you to have your secrets for now despite being able to sense that something is absolutely wrong.
“jay, give y/n what you gave her last weekend, she needs it.”
“welcome back, pretty girl,” jay greets you, “bad week?” you nod numbly, meeting his gaze with obviously tired eyes. “let jay help you.” he gives you a soft smile, beginning to whip up exactly what he gave you last weekend.
“thank you, jay,” jay notices the smile doesn’t reach your eyes, but he doesn’t take it personally. “anytime, pretty.”
wonyoung grabs the nearest bottle of whatever beer they’ve stocked up on for this so called rager and follows you as you wander aimlessly. she grips your elbow, leading you to an open seat on the sofa in the living room. the party is less packed than last weekend, with only a few people mingling around the house, the living room no longer being taken over by an impromptu dance floor.
“hi y/n, hey wonyoung,” jungwon greets the pair of you, dropping down into the cushion next to wonyoung. “what’s up? enjoying the party?”
you nod simply, nursing your cup gently as your eyes can’t focus on any one thing in the room, vision slightly fuzzy and never once regaining clarity as you let all thoughts leave your head.
“you with us, y/n?” wonyoung waves a hand in front of your face. unbeknownst to you, ten minutes had already passed and both wony and jungwon had watched you as you barely even moved, aside from the cup occasionally being pressed to your lips. “yeah, sorry.” you mumble out. wonyoung gives your shoulder a small squeeze before rising to her feet. “we’ll be right back, jungwon and i need a refill, okay?” you nod as her figure disappears into the house.
a large shadow casts above you, drawing your attention up to meet big brown eyes. “why are you here? here to gloat some more?”
a small sigh leaves your lips as you tear your gaze from him before downing your drink at once, eyes fluttering shut. you place the cup on the coffee table in front of you before looking back up at him, “i don’t have the energy to fight with you right now, jake. please just leave me alone.”
jake sits down next to you, hand resting on your knee as he whispers lowly for only you to hear, “so you’re trying to act like you didn’t just kick my ass all week? you’re not gonna say anything about that?”
you nod a little, unable to meet his gaze, “jake, i’m so tired, please. i don’t want to fight right now.”
seeing the vision of you, a usually fiery, independent, self assured woman, surrendering to his words so easily causes a twitch in jake’s pants, his jeans beginning to feel a little too snug all of a sudden. “is that so?” he teases, his anger from the week still present in the undertones of his speech. “so you don’t even have the energy to be a good rival and taunt me back?”
you shake your head, “jake, please,” you whine, and its music to his ears. he squeezes your knee lightly, invading your space some more. “please what, angel?”
your cheeks burn at the sudden nickname, mouth going dry at the three little words he’s just whispered to you. you stare at him with doe eyes and a shut mouth. “what is it, you can tell me.” he tries to coax the admission out of you.
“just so tired…” you relent, limbs feeling heavy.
jake stands and pulls you to your feet, ignoring how heavy his cock feels behind his denim as he leads you upstairs, “come on, let’s go find somewhere you can lie down.” the sudden kindness he’s showing you would strike you as strange if you were in your right mind, but the fogginess taking over your brain hides how absolutely weird this would be on a normal day between you and jake.
jake tugs the door of heeseung’s room open, guiding you inside before shutting the door and locking it. “lie down.” his voice is gentle, coaxing you into submission and a sense of calm, feeling safer knowing you’re away from the crowd and are able to breathe a little better without a thin sheen of smoke filling your lungs and obscuring your vision.
you obey, crawling under the covers that he’s pulled back for you before he tucks you under the plush material. “you shouldn’t be here while you’re feeling like this,” jake scolds you. your eyes shut gently, already falling asleep with a heavy heart and heavier limbs. jake watches you with a protective gaze as you drift off into dreamland, a sigh leaving his lips knowing you might finally have time to just exist, versus your usual act of constantly pushing yourself to the limit and further.
“you can’t just let people crash in my room, jake!”
“it’s y/n, hee.” jake glances up at the taller man for a moment, “she… something was wrong, but i didn’t want to send her home by herself. wonyoung certainly wasn’t going to go with her.” he scoffs at your roommate’s inability to grasp how strange you were acting. heeseung’s eyebrows shoot up at this admission, nodding slightly. “is she okay now?” he questions.
“she’s still sleeping,” heeseung had caught jake sneaking out of his room trying to get you a glass of water for when you wake up, planning to run up and continue watching you as you slept. not in a creepy way, just in a i don’t want anybody to come in this room trying to fuck on heeseung’s bed while y/n is sleeping there kind of way, as well as a i need to make sure no one tries to take advantage of her kind of way. why he wanted to do all of this, why he was treating you this way at all was still a mystery to him. “didn’t want anyone coming in and waking her up or messing with her while she’s sleeping.”
heeseung scoffs a bit at his answer, “you still don’t get it, do you?”
jake watches him with a blank stare, “get what?” he shakes his head in response, muttering a quiet “nothing,” before peeking inside his room to check on you.
“she’s fine, heeseung.” jake argues, quietly yanking the door shut. “let her sleep.”
heeseung shakes his head, “just let her uber home with wonyoung,” he suggests, testing the waters further to prove his theory is rocksolid.
jake gives him a glare that could kill, “did you not fucking listen to a word i just said?”
bingo.
“i’m kidding, chill.”
jake lets the comment go as well as he can, “if you’re done saying stupid shit, can you go grab me some water for when she wakes up?” heeseung scoffs at his words, but returns shortly with a bottle of water, to which jake gives him a small thank you in return.
“just… try not to be an asshole when she wakes up, okay?”
you don’t know how you got home that night. wonyoung told you it was jungwon ordering the three of you an uber, opting to leave with you since he lives in your building with sunoo and riki as his roommates. the rest of the weekend passes unceremoniously, your color slowly coming back after an absolutely off week. as you slouch down into the chair next to his on monday morning, you can only hope jake doesn’t fuck up your good mood as fast as he did last week.
“had a fun weekend?” you can’t decipher the tone of his voice.
“it was fine, i guess.” you shrug in response. “i don’t remember most of it.” you admit, not even caring how absolutely embarrassing that sounds, especially coming from someone of your academic caliber and positive reputation.
jake’s face seems to drop at your admission, quickly shaking off the expression, “well, are you ready for another week of me kicking your ass?”
“we’ll see about that, sim.” you smirk lightly, feeling your spark in this rivalry returning a bit, along with your deeply imbedded feelings for the man beside you. jake seems to have let go of the intense hatred he was holding the previous week, a friendly feeling returning to your long standing rivalry. “don’t think i’m gonna go easy on you, now.”
jake smiles secretly, happy to see the pep back in your step, so to speak. he hated seeing you the way you were at the party, your eyes looking lifeless and staring into the void aimlessly before he laid you down for a well deserved nap.
“hmm, what’d you get?” you peer down at the paper your professor has just laid in front of you. “97. you?”
“98.”
jake groans loudly, “god, you can’t just let me win, can you?” a smile graces your lips, “nope, you’ll have to fight me for it, sim.”
“alright, you two,” jay teases the two of you and you turn to face him. “y/n, you’ll never guess what today is.” he smiles brightly.
“i’m not sure, what is it, jay?”
“it’s my birthday, and i’m throwing a party at the frat tonight.” you smile at his admission, “will i see you there?”
jake shakes his head, teasing, “no, she’s probably gotta stud-”
“sure,” you interrupt jake, shooting him a glare before looking back at jay, “i’ll be there, jay.” you offer him a small smile, one which he mirrors while jake looks between the two of you with a scowl.
oh, you’re gonna get it.
you arrive at jay’s party, opting for a more casual pleated skirt and t-shirt since jay told you it was casual wear and he wanted a chill vibe, just some close friends. you’re assuming he invited you because of wonyoung, who had to opt out of tonight’s festivities since the poor girl caught a nasty case of the flu over the weekend. you heated up some canned soup for her and made tea before leaving for the night, telling her to text you immediately if she starts to feel worse.
“hi, gorgeous,” heeseung smiles at you, greeting you warmly and placing a drink in your hands.
“hi, heeseung,” you return his smile, watching him over the rim of your solo cup as you take a sip. “damn, this is nasty. what the hell is this?”
he shrugs lightly, “beats me. jay’s mingling instead of making drinks, so sunghoon’s doing the best that he can, i guess.” you nod before bravely taking another sip of the gross concoction.
“where’s the birthday boy?”
“ask and he shall appear,” jay smiles, coming to stand next to heeseung, “hi, angel, glad you could make it.” you smile at the two men towering over you. “thanks for inviting me, and wony sends her apologies. she got sick over the weekend.”
“that’s alright, hope she feels better.” heeseung says before the two of them begin whisking you off into another part of the house. heeseung separates from you and jay to greet a few people, jay’s hand on your waist to guide you without you getting lost. “i heard hoon’s making drinks? this is nasty, jay, have you taught him nothing?” you tease, glancing behind you at a loud noise sounds behind you. after finding nothing, you begin to turn back to jay before your eyes find jake standing with karina. the sight makes your blood boil, but you nearly shiver after finding him already staring over at you and jay out of the side of his eye. you shake off his dark stare, returning to your conversation with jay, not noticing the way his hand hasn’t left your waist despite the two of you no longer moving through the house.
“i’ll be right back,” jake tells karina, no longer focused on their conversation. karina scoffs lightly, knowing this is the second time in two weeks that jake has left her high and dry while she’s been trying to talk to him.
“jay,” jake greets his best friend, earning him a look of confusion from the birthday boy, “y/n, can i talk to you?” you glance at jay with a confused look, the man in front of you mirroring the same expression back at you.
“i– sure, jake.” you relent, setting down your already empty cup on a random surface before he’s tugging your arm, not caring about the searing grip he has on your wrist.
“didn’t i warn you to not fuck my friends?” jake’s hushed voice meets your ears, a frown pulling onto your lips at the question. you don’t remember talking about being attracted to any of his friends at all, let alone with jake himself.
“what are you talking about, sim?” you question, growing irritated at the implication that he probably thinks you’re easy.
“god, you’re so stupid sometimes,” he growls, pressing you against a bedroom door in the empty hallway. “you don’t even see them all eye fucking you? don’t be naive, y/n.”
you shake your head, convinced he’s fucking with you. “jake, your friends aren’t eye fucking me it’s called being friends with the opposite sex, you should try it instead of being an asshole all the time!”
jake yanks the handle near your hip, tugging the door open and shoving both of you inside before locking it behind him. “you drive me up the fucking wall, you know that?”
“the feeling is mutual, sim,” you deadpan. “are you done yelling at me? i’m ready to leave this fucking room and get far away from you. i’m trying to enjoy myself tonight, jake, i don’t need you fucking with my mood again.”
the dam in his mind breaks, and suddenly jake feels all his resolve slip away. he pushes you up against the closed door and squishes you against it. “god, you’re so fucking annoying, you know that? always know how to push my fucking buttons.”
the proximity has you holding your breath, waiting for his next searing words to tumble out of those plush lips.
“stop staring at my lips,” he demands, taking both of your wrists in one grip of his hand and holding them above your head. “you gonna keep making me mad?”
“stop fucking with me, jake, let me leave.” you know your words hold no weight in either of your minds, your body betraying you as your arousal is evident in the way your legs squeeze together.
jake shakes his head, “you need to shut up and take what i give you, since you’re so ready to be a slut for all my friends.” he grips your chin and squishes your cheeks with his other hand. “you gonna behave for me? or are you gonna be a brat?”
you finally relent, letting go of your argumentative front that you’ve put up around him for years as his grip on your cheeks loosens. you relish in the feeling of allowing him to take control, of jake offering you a moment to just exist without any expectations or responsibilities, to let him take care of you completely, “‘m gonna be good for you, jake.” you watch him with big eyes, his stare unrelenting as he watches you for any sort of discomfort.
“you sure you can take it, angel? i’m not gonna be nice.” you nod briefly, trying to use your hand before he grips tighter, “what is it, pretty? you can still back out now.” he tells you, giving you full control of the situation for a moment.
he watches a look flash across your face before you look downwards, embarrassed at the thought of what you’re about to ask. jake tugs your face to look back at up at him roughly, “want you to choke me,” you mumble. he grins wildly at your admission, hand on your chin snaking down to rest at the base of your neck. “like that, baby?” you nod slightly, pressing your legs further together under his intense stare. “tell jake what else you need.”
you take advantage of his momentary kindness to lean forward and capture his plump lips in a kiss, dirty and messy and utterly desperate. desperate for his touch, however you can get it. jake returns the favor, slotting his lips against yours, feeling every crevice of your gorgeous lips under his own. he fights back a moan, knowing he needs to maintain dominance over the situation. he squeezes tighter on your neck and you let out a small moan, allowing him to press his tongue into your mouth. you nearly gasp at the intrusion, relishing in the feeling of him nearly eating you from the inside out.
jake pulls away to stare back at your face, your expression already portraying how utterly fucked out you are just from a few touches. “can’t just take what you’re given, can you? greedy girl.” his tone is laced with warning.
“i can take it,” you argue lightly and he chuckles before moving you from the door to the bed, making you lie down on the mattress in front of him. “promise.”
“i believe you.” jake admits, sinking down to his knees and flipping your skirt up before pressing his nose against your clothed core. “bet you taste delicious, angel,” he stays there for a moment, licking against the fabric of your panties before pulling away. jake stands back up and unbuckles his belt, “another time, baby. need to fuck the attitude right out of you. always getting on my nerves.”
you watch as jake drops his pants and boxes just below his knees, revealing a thick, veiny cock with a blushing red tip. your cheeks go redder at the sight of him, already afraid of the stretch, “you’re so big.” the words tumble out of you without realization, your cheeks burning at the sudden admission.
“i told you i’m the best, baby,” he taunts you, “don’t worry, i’ll make you take it all like the cock slut we both know you are.” jake rips your panties, pulling a gasp from your chest as he holds the tip against your wet folds, the sight hidden from you by your skirt, “god, this turns you on, doesn’t it? when i call you a pretty little whore?” he feels your walls tighten slightly around his tip at his words and smirk casts over jake’s lips. “so all this time, my little angel has been getting wet every time we talk? dirty girl.” you shake your head, trying to hide your embarrassed face as your cheeks heat up. “don’t lie baby, i can feel you clenching around me.”
all the air is knocked out of your lungs when jake buries his huge length all the way inside, your hands going up to grab his biceps for something to hang onto as he begins ravaging you with a brutal pace, “see what you do to me? you make me so fucking angry, i can’t help but take it all out on you.” he feels your walls flutter around him as his thick cock drags against you, feeling every ridge of your pussy as his tip bruises your cervix with repeated precision. “god, you’re taking me so well, tiny little pussy was made to be destroyed by my big cock, wasn’t it?”
you nod dumbly, feeling cock drunk already, feeling yourself slip further away from reality with every drag of his veiny dick passing through you. jake fucks you into the mattress like he’s trying to split your entire body in half. you can’t get enough as jake moves your arms for a moment to tear your shirt off your body hastily, both hands reaching around and unclasping your bra before discarding both items somewhere in this random bedroom. he watches your tits bounce with each deep thrust, “god look at your tits baby, fuck– i could just eat you alive right now.”
“please,” you whine, not knowing what you’re whining for. “please what, my pretty little slut?” you don’t answer him, moaning loudly as he takes both your tits in his grasp, a hand holding each in a grip that’ll surely leave a mark.
“that’s what i thought,” he quips as he continues to plow into you, his head starting to spin from the feeling of your walls sucking him in with every thrust, never fully accommodating his size, “fuck, just take it all like a good cock slut, you were made to take me.”
his squeezing of one of your tits halts, moving down to pinch your swollen clit harshly, smiling wickedly at the groan of pain and pleasure that escapes your mouth. “too much?” you nod roughly, pleading eyes meeting his dark gaze, “too fucking bad.”
jake begins alternating between pinching and slapping your clit, relishing at the slight squeeze each action grants him, feeling himself tumbling to the edge already. “don’t you dare fucking cum,” he warns as he grabs your hips, shoving you up and down on his length like a fuckdoll, and you take it, sitting pretty with gasps leaving your parted lips as he chases his own pleasure. “fuuuuuck,” jake stills, cumming deep inside you, holding your hips flush to his body until he’s milked his own cock dry. you can feel your body on the edge of an orgasm as you wait for jake to finish you off now that he’s cum inside you.
he pulls out, watching his cum drip out of your gaping hole, “god, you still make me so fucking mad,” jake shoves his length back inside roughly, stuffing his cum back into you, “can’t wait to watch you come undone beneath me.” he moans, rubbing rough circles against your clit. you throw your head back, moaning his name loudly.
“that’s it, pretty baby, let everyone know who’s making you feel this good,” jake leans in and bites the skin on your neck, sucking and licking at the spot to soothe it after. he places a sloppy, open mouthed kiss there before leaning up and prying your lips apart, mouth opening obediently. your eyes open in shock, watching him hover above you before he spits in your mouth, then sliding his hand down to rest at the base of your neck, squeezing lightly. “swallow it.” you follow his instructions promptly, a moan escaping your lips after feeling it slide down your throat paired with the pressure he’s applying.
“cum all over my cock, angel,” jake growls in your ear, the grit in his voice causing your dam to break, the rubber band in your stomach snapping before your eyes roll back, colors passing through your vision and limbs feeling numb and tingly as jake fucks you through your orgasm.
“jake, stop–” you attempt to push him off, your actions doing nothing to halt his movements, feeling overstimulated as your orgasm finishes washing over your body. “jake–”
jake leans in, capturing your lips in a messy, sloppy kiss to distract you as he slowly slips out of you, taking his fingers and shoving the cum mixture back into your leaking hole. he pulls away, glancing down at the sight of both of your fluids leaking out of you, groaning at the sight, “fuck, you’re perfect,” his head feels dizzy as he catches your lips again, biting softly against your bottom lip before pulling away again. “let me clean you up,” jake presses a final kiss against your lips, resisting the urge to slip his tongue down your throat as far as it can reach.
he returns shortly with a wet cloth from the en suite bathroom, manhandling you to sit further up against the pillows before wiping you down, getting the cum out of your gaping hole. he returns to the bathroom, wiping himself off before tugging his jeans back onto his hips and tossing the washcloth in the trash. whatever frat brother this room belongs to certainly won’t be missing that…
you stare up at the ceiling, panting and wiping the sweat from your forehead. “fuck.”
“fuck what? fuck you? i just did,” he argues, grabbing your torn panties from wherever they landed in the room and pocketing them discreetly.
“shut up, sim,” you cover your eyes with your arm, refusing to look at him.
“hey, look at me,” jake pries your arm off and your eyes open slowly, the sight of him with his post sex glow knocking the wind out of you. “you okay?” his question is sincere, his gaze on you doubly so. you nod lightly, a small smile taking over your features, “good.”
“can’t believe you ripped my panties…” you grumble, sitting up slightly to look for your shirt and bra. jake’s hands grip your tits absentmindedly, “i’m not a fucking stressball, jake!” jake just laughs, pinching one of your nipples in retaliation, watching the nearly silent moan that leaves your perfect pink lips. “fuck, don’t do that again unless you want another round.”
he perks up at the words, “you really mean that?”
“i–”
a loud pounding on the door startles both of you, “open the fuck up!”
you scramble to grab your bra and shirt, shoving them back on as jake wills his slowly rising dick to lower once more. he glances at you and you nod at him. jake unlocks the door and swings it open, meeting the eyes of a very tall, very angry man.
“get the fuck out, both of you,” he booms and the two of you scurry out quickly, a small giggle escaping your lips at the sight of his bright red, angry face.
“he was gonna kick your ass, jake…” you tell him as the two of you rush down the hallway, unknowingly in the opposite direction of the living room.
“would’ve been worth it,” jake smirks, stopping and gripping your hips lightly, the intimacy of his thumbs rubbing on your bare skin making your head spin, “your pussy is heaven.”
you smile, small and subtle, eyes wide, “not mad at me anymore?”
he shakes his lightly, “could never really be mad at you.” jake offers you a coy smile.
“doesn’t seem like it,” you argue, smile slipping from your features the tiniest bit. “well… every time you make me mad i can just fuck you like that again. is that what you want, pretty girl?”
your cheeks burn at the sudden nickname, “is that what you want, jake?” he nods slightly, “i’ll fuck you whenever and where ever you want if you’ll let me, baby. no strings attached.”
your heart drops at those three little words leaving his lips, hope of jake reciprocating your feeling sinking deeper into the abyss that clouds your mind most days. his offer is a glimmer of hope, your brain reeling to feel him like that again, even if he’s ‘fucking the attitude’ out of you over and over. you nod, “yeah, i’d like that.” you half-lie, continuing to shield your true feelings from him.
“just promise not to fuck any of my friends… you’re mine now.” you nod, heart fluttering at the implication of being jake’s, and the sudden possessiveness he’s now displaying.
jake’s grin grows, pulling you in by your hips for a frantic kiss, pushing his tongue past the expanse of your lips, exploring your mouth with need. you sink into his hold, stomach fluttering at the feeling of one of his hands reaching your ass, squeezing it in his large palm. you groan against his plush lips, allowing him to slip his tongue further down your throat.
“oh my god–” a shrill voice screeching from behind you has you pulling away from jake, seeing sunoo standing there, his hand now covering his eyes, “i’m so sorry, i– jay just told me to round everyone up for cake.” he apologizes and promptly rushes back to the living room.
“don’t worry,” jake whispers, “i can make sure sunoo doesn’t tell a soul, say the word and it’ll be our little secret, angel.”
you nod slightly, staring up at him with wide eyes, “thank you, jake.”
“anything you need and i’ll make it happen,” he promises, giving your ass one last squeeze and a small smack before guiding you forward, “go join the party, i’ll be there in a minute.”
“where have you been, dude?” heeseung questions jake after the cake is cut and shared, prompting the shorter man to shake his head. “nowhere important.” he can see the hidden smile on jake’s face as heeseung watches him, smirking knowingly as he catches your eye in the crowd where you’re talking to riki and waves you over. you excuse yourself and approach the two of them, trying to hide the blush in your cheeks when you glance at jake.
“hi, y/n,” heeseung smiles, “wish you were here earlier, i kicked the birthday boy’s ass in beer pong. it was quite the show.”
you return his smile, “sorry i missed it,” you apologize sincerely, looking down at your plate as you break off another piece of cake to eat. heeseung glances at jake, the smirk still covering his lips. heeseung takes in the way the tips of jake’s ears are turning red as he watches you place a piece of cake in your mouth. “nowhere important, right?” his low tone misses your ears as you munch happily on the vanilla treat.
shit.
jake smacks the back of his head, shooting daggers at his best friend as he whispers, “shut up.”
heeseung leans over to speak into jake’s ear, “just don’t break her heart, jakey boy.”
things are normal between you and jake during the classes you share, for the most part. you can’t stop staring, watching jake and zoning out as your professors drone on about whatever topic you’re covering during the period. you watch his eyes, beautiful and brown, as they stare forward, glancing to meet your gaze every once in a while. you watch his lips, perfectly plump and pink, which tug into a smirk every time jake catches you staring, biting down on his bottom lip at the sight of you watching him.
you take in the overwhelming presence of him, your nerves running in overdrive since the night before, knowing how absolutely stuffed he makes you feel, how jake’s big hands burn where ever they touch, leaving you yearning to be constantly held by him and his soft palms. his hair urges to have a hand run through it, dark and falling across his face in a satisfying way, framing his forehead delicately.
everything about the man beside you overwhelms you, and you can’t seem to look away.
god, you’re fucked.
“what the hell is going on between you and jake?” jay questions as you approach him, nearly falling into him as you try to walk around despite the slight buzz filling your bloodstream.
“jongseong, i don’t know what you’re talking about,” you tell him, grabbing a seltzer from the fridge and cracking it open, not hesitating to take a few gulps before returning your gaze to him. his eyebrow is quirked up when you look at him again, “you’ve never called me by my government name,” jay challenges, smirking with a knowing look.
“shut up,” you move to cover his mouth, to which he swats your hand away easily, his tolerance much higher than yours. “no,” he argues grabbing your wrist as you try to smack him, “i wanna know.”
you narrow your eyes at him, an action he sees right through, knowing you’re not actually angry seeing the blush growing on your cheeks, “nothing is going on between me and jake.”
“no, there’s something there,” jay tells you, “are you two fucking?”
you nearly spit your sip of seltzer out, coughing for a moment as he hits your back lightly, concern washing over jay’s sharp features. “jesus christ, y/n, don’t die in the frat house, none of these idiots here would know how to help you.”
you shake your head, breathing returning to normal, “jay, we’re not fucking.”
“you’re lying,” jay cracks a knowing smile, laughing lightly, “anyone with eyeballs is able to see there’s something there.”
your resolve begins to crumble, the alcohol seeming to take over your brain more and more, “i– i don’t know what we’re doing…” you shake your head lightly, “we… we fucked on your birthday,” you relinquish. “i… i don’t know how he feels about me, jay.” you hear a noise escape your throat, one that sounds far too vulnerable, and you chase the sound with another swig from the can in your hand. “i try not to think about feelings that much, honestly, they’re so overwhelming.”
jay laughs, “yeah… me neither, don’t worry,” he clinks his solo cup against your can and you both take a sip, “who made the first move?”
“jay!” you shove him, “stop asking so many damn questions!”
“tell her not to shove me like that, jake,” jay says, watching you with satisfaction as your eyes go wide and you whip around to see jake approaching the two of you.
“don’t hit jay, princess, he has weak skin,” jake tells you, to which jay retorts with “fuck you, sim, you’re supposed to be on my side!”
princess?
well that’s a new one… all of these new nicknames jake has given you since he fucked you have been driving your head crazy, less than platonic feelings swelling inside your tiny, drunk brain as you stare up at the man who grabs a water from the fridge.
“i’m on no one’s side here,” jake argues, twisting the cap off and taking a sip of water. you watch his throat suck the liquid down, adam’s apple bobbing. your body buzzes in response to the small action, stopping yourself from reaching out and running a finger, or your tongue, over the expanse of his throat.
jay tucks a finger under your chin, pushing upwards to make your jaw return to the rest of your face. you smack him on the chest, “don’t touch me, jongseong,” you warn, trying to ignore the fact that you were nearly drooling over jake right in front of him.
“you wanted him to see you drooling, then?” jay counters, voice low enough for jake to miss it.
“shut the hell up,” you ignore his words, eyes returning to jake who is watching you expectantly.
“i’ll be back,” jay exits the kitchen, leaving the two of you alone in the dimly lit room among the various bottles of liquor lining the island and fridge.
“hi, gorgeous,” jake invades your space, pushing you backwards until your back is pressed against the edge of the cold granite countertop.
“jake!” you place your hands on his chest, trying to push him away, “are you trying to make sure people see us like this?!” jake wraps a hand around you, his palm splayed against your upper back, pressing you closer to him.
“maybe.”
you shake your head, watching his eyes darken as he watches you, “did you have fun talking to jay, baby?”
“jake, i’m not going to fuck him, so don’t even start getting mad,” you warn.
“i know pretty, i’m the only one who gets to see you like that, aren’t i?” your silence paired with flushed cheeks gives jake the answer he’s searching for, grinning in response. “good.”
“meet me in the bathroom at the end of the hall in two minutes,” he whispers into your ear before departing from the kitchen, the words making you squish your legs together. you wait with bated breath, watching as the clock on the microwave ticks to the next minute. fuck it, you mumble before setting your drink down and following him, knocking softly on the door before jake tugs you inside.
“hmm, eager, are we?” jake teases, locking the door and pulling you against him by your waist as he leans against the bathroom counter. “couldn’t wait any longer, could you?” you shake your head, words failing you as your face sits desperately close to his, desire swirling beneath your skin. “my obedient girl.”
“wanna suck your dick,” you beg, jake groaning and leaning his head back at your admission, “fuck, pretty, you can’t just say shit like that,” he pushes you down onto your knees, watching in awe as you instantly begin to fumble with his pants, tugging them down. you watch with wide eyes at the sight of his half hard dick sitting beneath his boxers, placing a kiss against the length through the fabric.
“don’t tease me, pretty girl,” jake warns, his tone conveying all the punishments you’d receive for disobeying him. “yes, sir,” you reply, the words going straight to jake’s cock as it hardens in your grasp. “say that again,” he groans, watching your tiny hand as you’re barely able to wrap all the way around his girth.
“say what again? sir?” you watch his cock twitch in your hand, the sight bringing a smirk to your face, kitten licking his tip before placing a delicate kiss on his slit. “you’re so big, sir, i don’t know if you’re gonna fit in my mouth…” you look up at him, blinking your eyes innocently.
you watch as his eyes darken at your actions, “i’ll make it fit, angel,” he presses on the back of your head, guiding you to take his length in your mouth. you slide down, his long cock pressing into the back of your throat harshly, the girth of it stretching your mouth out. “fuck, look at you– you were made to take my cock like this.” jake groans as he watches you suck him in, “my cock.” he reiterates and you nod around his length, continuing to bob up and down before jake takes control, fucking your face.
you begin to drool around his length as you let him use your mouth for his own pleasure, “fuck, baby, taking me so well– letting me fuck your throat like this, you’d let me do anything to this perfect body, wouldn’t you?” he doesn’t need a reply, already knowing the answer as he admires the way your lips stretch around his length, the sight stirring a feeling deep in his stomach. jake thinks you look gorgeous like this, gazing up at him with wide eyes and a hungry gaze, somehow taking his cock deeper every time.
his tip hits the back of your throat repeatedly as jake fucks your face, chasing his high. you keep your mouth slacked, his girth and length making you feel completely stuffed, “look at these tits,” jake watches your tits bounce beneath your tank top, “fuck, you’re perfect,” jake groans as you reach down and squeeze his balls with one of your hands, the other gripping his thigh to keep yourself upright as you sit back on your haunches.
“i’m gonna cum down that gorgeous throat,” jake babbles, even his mindless near-orgasm ramblings sound like music to your ears. he yanks you back and forth along his length a few more times before shoving your face against his pelvic bone, nose smushing against the space right above the base of his dick. you groan at the feeling of his cum hitting the back of your throat, “take it all like the dirty slut you are,” jake commands, pulling away from your mouth slowly after his balls are empty, watching you with a lazy gaze. “swallow.” you follow his instructions promptly, gulping down before sticking your tongue out for him to examine, the sight nearly making him hard again. “good fucking girl,” he praises you, tugging you up off of your knees to meet your lips in a searing kiss.
you groan realizing jake is tasting himself on your lips, the fact not seeming to bother the man as he pushes his tongue into your mouth hungrily, large hands holding your face possessively. “mine,” he whispers against your lips, feeling as you nod in response. “thank you, baby.” he presses one last, gentle kiss against your waiting lips as he tucks himself back into his jeans. “let me make you feel good, too.”
you shake your head, resting both of your hands on his chest, a yawn rising from deep in your belly, “i’m okay, jakey,” you offer him a smile, “tired all of a sudden.”
“come on, i’ll take you home.”
“i missed you,” wonyoung smiles as the two of you sit together in the library, “feels like that damn flu took me out for fifty years,” she exaggerates, giggling lightly as she sips on her coffee through a small blue straw.
“i know. you’ve missed… a lot.” you cover your face, embarrassment already heating your cheeks. “i… jake and i are sleeping together.”
wonyoung squeals and you glance around worryingly, watching as other students glare at the two of you. you smile in apology, turning to wonyoung and smacking her arm, to which she exclaims a small, “ow!”
“why are you hitting me? this is so exciting!” she whisper yells.
you shake your head, “i mean, yeah it’s exciting, kind of…” you sigh before meeting her gaze, “he doesn’t… it’s… he made it clear that this is a no strings attached kind of situation.”
wonyoung’s eyes go wide, “you’re lying!” you shake your head as her expression shows how much of a hard time she is having trying to process this information. “i– and you agreed to that?”
you nod, shame dusting your face and ears in a deep pink hue, “i just… i couldn’t say no, he had just finished fucking the brains out of my skull, and i think i’m just desperate to have him around in any way that i can… even if it means hurting myself in the process.”
“my poor y/nnie… he still doesn’t know you like him?” you shake your head, to which wonyoung sighs, “it’s been so long, why don’t you just tell him? what’s the worst that could happen?”
“you know exactly what could happen, wony. i could fuck up years of a friendly-ish relationship, and double fuck up the situation we have now. feelings just get in the way of everything.”
wonyoung places her hand atop yours on the table, rubbing the back of your hand in a soothing motion, “well, whatever you decide, it will all turn out okay. i promise. i don’t think jake would ever hurt you on purpose.”
you inhale deeply at the thought of jake caring about you on more than a surface level. “don’t say that, don’t get my hopes up… it’s just gonna hurt more when everything ends up exploding in my face.”
you don’t know how jake convinced you to go to the library with him, citing something about how you’ve been sucking in class these days and he needed to make sure you were studying so that he still had someone to compete against. which was a lie, you were doing just fine in class recently.
you’re absolutely trying to study, but feeling jake beside you makes it an impossible feat. your eyes skim over the digital textbook on your laptop in front of you as jake zones out at random areas of the room, every once in a while his eyes landing on you as he stares for a beat before allowing his eyes to wander around the room once more.
jake’s leg is bouncing up and down as the two of you sit side by side, tapping a pattern on his jeans as he struggles to focus. you eye him up with a confused stare, “what is it?”
jake pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, the sight sending heat straight to your core. “you don’t wanna know, baby.”
his response has a strange bout of confidence sprouting inside your tummy. your hand rises to meet him, rubbing and squeezing on his inner thigh, scarily close to his dick that’s getting harder by the second, “you don’t wanna do that, angel.” jake warns, watching you with a dark gaze. you can see the lust fluttering through his irises, dark and intoxicatingly addictive. you move up to his clothed bulge, giving him a feather light squeeze. jake bites back a groan, his head tipping back as his eyes flutter shut in an attempt to keep his composure. he leans over to whisper in your ear. you can feel his breath on your neck sending shivers up your spine.
“stop, or i’ll bend you over this table right now and fuck you in front of everyone here.”
you gasp in response, grinning as you watch him with a mischievous look in your eye, one that he’s come to quickly recognize since agreeing to your… special relationship.
jake pulls back, his stare darker than moments before and you feel yourself falling into his brown eyes, pupils wide and staring at you as lust dances across his irises. “last chance to back out, angel.”
you shake your head lightly before jake rises, packing both bags in a hurry, tugging you out of the library and heading to your apartment building. “your apartment better be empty, or else wonyoung might get a free show.”
“oh my god, jake,” you’re barely able to keep up with him as he drags you along with him, nearly stumbling over your own feet to keep up. you enter your lobby, leading him to your first floor room and unlocking the door hastily. the moment he’s inside the foyer of your apartment, jake is shoving you up against the door, his lips finding yours instantly. “trying to work me up in front of everyone, baby?” he purrs, one hand cupping your face gently while the other has a searing grip on your hips. every spot he touches burns, watching him with affection in your gaze. “too needy to wait until later, huh?”
you nod dumbly, covering the hand against your cheek with your own, nuzzling against it as you try to hide your growing shame at being so insatiable that you couldn’t even be in public with him for more than thirty minutes before jumping his bones.
“oh, my pretty girl’s all shy now that we’re home? what happened to that brat attitude from before?” jake kisses the back of his teeth before placing a closed mouth kiss on your pouty lips. you hide from his gaze, embarrassed at your bratty behavior from before. “‘m sorry, sir.”
jake nearly moans hearing you use the name he heard for the first time just days before in the bathroom when you sucked his soul out through his dick. he pulls you close in another passionate, messy kiss. “yeah? baby’s sorry?” you nod, watching him with wide, innocent eyes, not seeing the wheels turning in his head as he watches your tiny figure with glee.
jake walks you through the hallway, lips wandering and planting kisses on every bit of exposed skin on your upper half. you lead him to your door, twisting the handle quickly before stumbling inside. jake shuts the door with his foot as he backs you up onto your bed. “i think my baby deserves a punishment.”
jake presses further against your lips, his hands sliding up your frame to hold your tits gently, “could play with these all day,” he mumbles, kneading them in his large hands. you kiss him back slowly, feeling the tension from the past few days dissipate the further he pulls you in, losing yourself in the feeling of his soft lips dancing against yours.
jake smiles as he gives each breast one final squeeze before pulling your sweatshirt over your head, “had i known you were bare under here, baby…” jake sucks harshly on your nipple, your back arching up against his mouth, begging for more.
“you’re lucky i didn’t bend you over that table,” he bites at your breast, leaving a teeth mark on the side of the plump flesh. “everyone would learn fast who you belong to, wouldn’t they?”
you nod, moaning out as he continues his onslaught against your nipple, sucking and biting with fervor, his cock standing tall and proud in his sweatpants.
“you wore those on purpose,” you squeak out between loud moans.
“what? these?” jake motions to the gray sweatpants covering his strong legs, “didn’t know they’d affect you so much, would’ve worn them way sooner if i knew you’d pounce on me like the little slut you are.” he guides your hand to the crotch of his pants, allowing you to squeeze his length through the fabric of his sweats. more wetness gushes out of you at the feeling of the weight of his member, knowing all the damage he can do to you with it. “my little slut, isn’t that right?” you nod diligently, rubbing up and down on his length, trying to rile him up.
jake halts your actions, “naughty whore, can’t even be patient,” he scolds, leading your hand to dip under his waistband. you gasp at the feeling of him not wearing any boxers, allowing you to hold him in your hand, warmth spreading through your body as you jack him off lazily.
jake pulls his sweats down just below the base of his dick and it springs free, hard and ready for you. “fuck–” you groan, watching closely as your hand continues its diligent motions. “love your cock, sir.”
“i know you do, baby,” jake pets your hair gently, “such a good little cock slut, always ready to take me,” he dips his other hand beneath the waistband of your sweats, pushing his hands through your folds. “already this wet and i’ve barely even touched you.”
“just for you,” you groan as he dips one finger inside, pumping roughly, searching for that spongy spot inside of you. jake slips another finger inside, his movements quickening as he listens for the gorgeous noises he loves to hear spill from your lips.
“pull these down,” jake commands and you use your free hand to tug your pants and panties down and off your legs. jake can feel himself salivating at the sight of your gorgeous pussy, slipping a third finger inside next to the other two. he buries them knuckle deep before pulling out, repeating his actions over and over as he watches your facial expressions convey the pleasure he’s bringing you. “fuck, look at you, weak for me and i’m only using my fingers,” the commanding tone in his voice makes you shiver, eyes fluttering open to meet his gaze, dark and swimming with lust. “fuck, jake–” you groan as you feel his fingers begin to reach deeper, your pussy nearly swallowing his hand to the knuckles each time.
“look at how i’ve stretched this tiny pussy out,” jake chuckles, his voice rumbling with need as he glances down at his cock where you’ve halted your handjob, back arching off the bed. he removes his fingers promptly, causing you to whine loudly.
“sir, please–” you plead, eyes brimming with tears, “was so close! i’ll be a good girl!”
jake watches you with amusement, the sight of you whimpering beneath him forcing his brain into overdrive, “good girls do as they’re told. keep jacking me off and if you stop again i won’t let you cum.” you nod at his words, resuming your actions, groaning as you pay extra attention to his leaky red tip, squeezing harder every time you reach the top.
jake dips three fingers back inside you, watching as you squeak out and start panting as he hits a particular spongy spot inside of you. jackpot.
he assaults this spot, other hand snaking down to rub mercilessly at your clit. jake groans as your grip on him becomes tighter as you near your high, “gonna make a mess on my fingers like the good girl you are?”
you nod quickly, mouth hanging slack with your tongue lolling out as you squeak at every jab against your g-spot. “f– f– u– uck–” you scream out between thrusts, your pace on his dick speeding up as you approach the edge.
with one particularly tight yank of his dick and a swipe over his tip, jake cums hard, liquid spurting out onto your chest and some on your gaping hole. he stills his actions for a moment before coating fingers on both of his hands with his seed. you feel his cum inside you, tears flowing at the onslaught of varying sensations on you at once. his other hand returns to your clit, his lips coming to suck on it as he rubs roughly, while still fucking you with his long, slender fingers.
“ahh!–” you scream out, back arching off the bed as the coil inside you threatens to snap, “fuck! jake–” a slap against your clit followed by a harsh suck of the hardened bud causes you to tumble past your precipice, all of your limbs stilling as jake never halts his actions. he pulls away from your clit to look down. the sight of you cumming, liquid spilling everywhere makes his cock jump, “fuuuuuck, baby,” he continues ramming his fingers inside of you with expert precision, “such a messy girl.”
his words bring a burning sensation to your cheeks, trying to scramble away from jake as he overstimulates you heavily, never ceasing his actions, “jake, please–”
“you’ve got one more in you, baby,” jake tells you, “let jake help you.”
jake removes his fingers before sliding home, his thick cock reaching impossibly deep inside you instantly, sucking him in with familiarity and a still present stretch from the sheer size of him. “fuck, your pussy is heaven sent, angel,” jake’s need overtakes him, jackhammering inside of you harshly, your body jerking with each thrust inside of your already abused hole. he snakes a hand around, holding your asscheeks apart with both hands, lightly tracing a finger around the rim of your asshole. “ahh!–” you gasp at the intrusion, “jake!–”
“this belongs to me, too,” jake tells you, slowly pushing the pad of his finger past your puckered ring, “jake!” you scream, eyes rolling back at the feeling of being double stuffed, even with just a bit of his finger breaching your ass.
“i knew you’d be a slut for anal,” jake whispers as his pounding continues, finger slowly pushing further in through your backdoor, “i’ll hit it from the back next time, how about that, my dirty girl?”
you shake your head, your body’s reaction saying the opposite as jake starts to pump his finger in and out of your tight hole in rhythm with the way his cock is pounding your pussy. “moremoremore!”
“yeah baby? more?” jake shoves his finger further, picking up speed in both holes, nearly cumming seeing the bruise already forming on your plush breast from the searing bite he gave it earlier, the imprint of his teeth visible even from a distance. jake uses his free hand to squeeze your throat tightly, “greedy little cock slut always needs more, can’t just take what she’s given.”
your vision starts to go white from the pressure on your windpipe combined with jake’s dick hitting your spongy spot and his finger pumping knuckle deep into your ass, knowing he’s the only one who’s ever been there. your eyes roll back into your head as you cum, the experience feeling different from any other time you’ve orgasmed.
“you trying to make me cum right now? squirting on me like that, baby?” more liquid continues to gush out of your hole, the wetness on jake’s dick making him groan loudly. he pulls his finger from your ass when the liquid is done streaming from your weeping cunt, smacking your ass harshly and groping at your cheek. “next time, i’m fucking this ass.” he gives you another rough smack, this time on the opposite side, before pulling out of you. “right now? i’m gonna fuck these tits.” jake crawls up your body sliding his dick between your plush mounds of flesh, squeezing them tight around his length. “look at you, letting me use this fucking perfect body however i need,” jake groans, pinching your nipple with one of his hands as he pumps in and out, eyes trained on the way your tits nearly completely cover his length. he chases his high, knowing you’re not anticipating his next actions, your eyes fighting to stay open as he uses you as he pleases.
“fuck, you’re perfect,” jake whispers, teetering on the edge of cumming before he slides away from your tits, shoving his length back into your gaping pussy. a few pumps is all it takes before he’s spilling inside of you, cum hitting your walls in long spurts and filling your pussy, dripping out of you and landing on the sheets beneath you. jake fucks you through his orgasm, pushing two fingers into your mouth before rubbing your abused clit with precision.
“no!– no more, jake!–” you try to push him away, overstimulation tingling around your body after two mind blowing orgasms have already rendered you utterly exhausted.
“your body’s telling me otherwise,” jake smirks, feeling your pussy tighten around him with every pump of his cock and flick of your hardened nub, “gonna give you one more, angel. you can do it.”
you argue against him, the little whimpers leaving your mouth betraying your actions. you scream loudly as the wave of pleasure washes over you, and still jake fucks you through it, his movements never ceasing. you still as it wrecks through you, orgasm finally subsiding as jake pulls out of you slowly, hands running up the sides of your body gently, holding you like you’ll break if he presses too hard. he traces the curves of your body with admiration, wondering how he got so fucking lucky to have you beneath him.
“look at my pretty girl.” he smiles as he watches you return to the land of the living, your mind spinning after three orgasms. jake leans over your body, placing gentle kisses all over your face and neck, littering your body with affection. “did so good for me, angel. such a good girl.” you smile as his words register in your ears, the ringing in them finally leaving as your body returns to its natural state of relaxation.
“no more, please,” you beg.
jake nods, offering you a smile, one that neither of you realize has hidden feelings brewing behind it. “no more, promise. my baby did so good.” he stands on the side of the bed, picking you up and leading you to the bathroom. jake sits you on the counter and starts running water, testing the temperature for you before corking the tub and watching it fill with perfectly hot water.
“mmm– jakey,” you mumble.
he turns to you, standing between your legs, rubbing circles on your kneecaps as he watches your drooping eyes try to focus on his face. “still with me, angel?” you nod lightly as he places a kiss on your forehead. “good, gonna get you all cleaned up and then we’ll get some sleep, okay?” you nod again.
jake sits there for a moment, memorizing the lines of your face and the feeling of your soft skin beneath his fingertips. he turns and stops the water from running. “come here, beautiful,” jake lifts you up again and places you into the tub. you sit there, mind still fuzzy, watching the ceiling lights reflect against the surface of the water. jake tugs his shirt off before sliding in behind you, letting your back rest against his chest.
jake grabs your body wash, lathering it between his hands before he gently spreads the bubbles across your body, diligently scrubbing your tired body clean.
“thank you,” you mumble, leaning the crown of your head back against his chest to look up at him, “of course, angel.” he kisses your forehead and you smile at the action, feeling him rinsing the soap from your skin before your eyes flutter shut for a moment.
the sight of you falling asleep against jake gives him a warm feeling in his stomach.
he washes up quickly, trying to not disturb your sleeping form. jake uncorks the bath and stands, reaching for the nearby towel before helping you to your feet. he dries himself quickly after realizing there’s only one towel, and then he’s wrapping you in it and guiding you to step out of the tub, your eyes still conveying how tired you are. jake tugs on his sweats before stepping back into your bedroom, digging through your drawers for clean clothes. he finds a suitable sleep set and a clean pair of panties before returning to your exhausted form standing still in the bathroom, leaning against the countertop.
“alright pretty,” he guides your legs to step into your panties, pulling them up your legs slowly before following them with a pair of shorts, “did so good for me, baby.” he reassures your tired mind, placing a gentle kiss on your hip after pulling the shorts up to rest on your waist.
jake finishes drying off your top half before tugging the shirt he picked out over your frame, helping you get your arms into the holes. once you’re fully dressed, he watches you with an unknown emotion stirring deep inside his body. “nap time,” he offers you a smile before leading you back to your bed, making note to wash your cum covered sheets later once the two of you wake up again. he lays you down on top of your comforter to keep a barrier between the stained sheets and your freshly washed body, crossing the room to grab a throw blanket and placing it on top of you. jake sneaks in behind you, wrapping his arms around your center and resting his head on your shoulder, breathing in your fresh scent, a smell that brings a sense of peace to his otherwise busy mind.
“get some sleep,” jake kisses your cheek then your shoulder before returning his head to the place it feels most comfortable.
“goodnight, angel.”
you slide through the front door of the frat house the next day, watching as yet another party unfolds before your eyes. you glance around, looking for heeseung or jay, or even sunghoon, knowing jake would reveal himself later in the evening when he got tired of watching you walk around in the tiniest skirt known to man, one you wore purposely just to rile him up.
you pass by a few aquaintances as you continue your search, greeting them kindly, stopping for small talk. the hallways reveal none of the men you’re looking for as you glance down the endless expanse of random doors that line the walls. you stand at the bottom of the stairs, about to head up before you see two people nearly fucking on the top of the steps, causing you to turn around and head back towards the living room.
you walk out into the backyard, finding sunghoon talking with someone near the side of the house, beginning to approach them before you stop. their hushed voices reach your ears as a distinct accent hits you.
“there’s no way you don’t like her, man, i’ve seen the way you look at her.”
“sunghoon,” jake warns, “i don’t like y/n, bro. she means nothing to me, seriously. drop it.”
you feel your heart shatter beneath your ribcage, pieces scattering out and stabbing themselves into your organs as you step back into the house, bumping into someone who catches you before you can tumble to the ground.
“y/n, you okay?” heeseung asks as he watches you, searching your face.
“i– i’m fine heeseung,” you try to wrestle from his hold, “please let me go,” you whimper, tears sliding down your cheeks pathetically, trying to hide your embarrassed face from the tall man.
heeseung drags you into the kitchen, thankfully empty of jay’s usual presence, and he lifts you to sit you down on the counter, the cold surface against your bare legs grounding you the slightest bit. “what’s wrong? do i need to call wonyoung?”
you shake your head, burying your face in your hands, sobs racking your entire body. “i’m so stupid,” you explain between tears, “i shouldn’t have been eavesdropping, i really didn’t mean to, but i heard jake talking about me with sunghoon and i–” you whimper audibly, wiping your eyes with your forearm as you look up at heeseung, who is watching you closely. “i like him so much, heeseung, i have for so long, and he said i didn’t even mean anything to him, and now i feel so fucking embarrassed!” you ramble, your mind feeling fuzzy as you try to fight the tears continuing to tumble down your cheeks, “ever since jay’s birthday party he’s been treating me different, and sometimes i guess i had tricked myself into thinking he might like me back… he– he says the sweetest things whenever we have sex, and treats me so gentle after and calls me all these nicknames… i guess he just says that shit to every girl he manages to get in his bed,” your crying has slowed, anger beginning to mix with sadness as your emotions shift slightly.
“i can’t believe i actually went along with his dumb idea,” you scold yourself, “i’m seriously so stupid.”
you can’t believe you wanted so desperately for jake to return your feelings that you let him use you, believing that maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way you did. and he shoved your hope right back in your face just to taunt you with it.
god, this is useless.
you’re useless, your brain reminds you.
maybe jake had a point in using you for his own pleasure. he has never once shown you any romantic interest before you agreed to a change in your relationship dynamic, so why would anything change suddenly at the drop of a hat?
why would you think you’d ever be enough for him?
you shake your head, eyes brimming with more tears at the memory of allowing him to use you without question, wondering if you even meant anything at all to jake, sexually or otherwise. how had your crush gotten so bad that you’d let a man devour you and rip you apart just to leave you to pick up the pieces yourself? the sim jaeyun you found yourself crushing on was leagues different than the man you just overheard, and you felt your stomach sink at the thought of the boy you once knew becoming barely recognizable.
“y/n,” heeseung’s voice brings you out of the fog, “y/n, it’s okay, you’re not stupid.” he wraps you in a tight hug, the tears returning as you soak the shoulder of his shirt. “jake’s stupid if he doesn’t realize what a catch you are, pretty.” he rubs your back gently.
“everything okay in here?”
“not now,” heeseung attempts to shoo jake away, to which the australian boy stands still, watching with confusion. “jake, seriously, go away.”
heeseung stumbles as jake shoves him lightly, “what the fuck did you do, man!”
“what you should be asking is what the fuck did you do, jake,” heeseung glares at him, watching his best friend nearly fuck up everything he doesn’t know he’s been longing for this whole time.
jake lets heeseung’s words slip past him, turning to you, eyes lined with concern, “you okay?”
you watch jake, tears still slowly sliding down your red cheeks, shaking your head, “leave me alone, sim.” the venom in your tone tears at his heart, watery gaze watching him with hatred brewing in his heart, “don’t pretend like you care about me.”
“i–”
“jake, leave before something worse happens,” heeseung advises him, holding back the words he actually wants to say to his helplessly blind and stupid best friend. jake obeys, walking slowly out of the kitchen with one last glance at you, the sight of you crying into heeseung’s hold nearly breaking him in two.
oh fuck.
the tidal wave of emotions hits jake all at once, feelings he’s unknowingly denied since you first met all those years ago beginning to settle into his gaze, watching you with hurt at the way you pushed him away with your words.
heeseung pulls jay into the kitchen as he’s walking by, instructing him to take care of you. heeseung approaches jake, who is standing right outside the kitchen and tugs him further into the house, away from you and your sad eyes. “jake, what the fuck dude!”
“i didn’t do anything!” he fights back.
“why the hell would you say that shit about her to hoon!”
realization dawns on him, bringing jake to rub a tired hand against his face, “god, she heard me, didn’t she?” jake asks sheepishly, to which heeseung hits him in the shoulder, saying “yes, you idiot!”
“fuck…” jake sighs deeply, looking up at heeseung, “i really fucked up, didn’t i?”
“yes, dummy!”
jake pinches the bridge of his nose, biting his lower lip out of frustration, “if i was her i’d hate me right now.”
“did you actually mean all that shit you said?”
“i– i didn’t really think much about what we were doing, but hoon was grilling me and saying all this shit like he always does and i just wanted him to shut the hell up, he was overwhelming me with all his stupid questions,” jake shakes his head, frustration brewing in his stomach.
“you like her, don’t you?” jake doesn’t meet heeseung’s eyes, only nodding and sighing deeply, “i didn’t think i did, but seeing her push me away like that made me so sad, dude. i don’t want her to hate me…”
“sometimes you’re stupid, jake,” heeseung places his hands on his shoulders, “just go, man. sleep it off and give her some space. you broke her damn heart, dude.”
you wake up in an unfamiliar bed, glancing around before realizing you’re still in the frat house. “good morning, sunshine,” sunghoon smiles at you as he exits the bathroom, “about time you woke up.”
“sunghoon… what the hell happened last night?” your mind is running a mile a minute, praying you didn’t sleep with jake’s best friend.
“there was no funny business, don’t worry your pretty little head about that,” he reassures you, “heeseung brought you here after you nearly cried yourself into a coma in the kitchen.”
you rub at your eyes, sighing loudly as the night’s events wash over you suddenly. “jake’s not here, is he?”
sunghoon shakes his head, “no, he’s not here, so don’t freak out.”
you sigh loudly, “are jay and heeseung here?” sunghoon nods in response, “yeah, jay’s probably cooking something up for you right now.”
“morning, sleeping beauty,” jay greets you as you stumble into the kitchen, the clothes against your skin meant for a much larger frame as you nearly trip over the extra fabric hanging off the bottom of your sweatpants, the legs too long for your shorter body. these must be heeseung’s…
“hi,” you return the greeting, sliding up to sit at a barstool at the island. “is… are you guys okay?”
“us?” jay questions, glancing back at you from his spot at the stove where he’s frying two eggs for you, “i should be asking how you are, y/n.”
“i– i don’t know, honestly. my head really hurts.” jay nods his head towards the end of the island, “heeseung left some ibuprofen out for you.”
you take it, mentally noting to thank him later. “how are you feeling about… everything you heard?” jay questions, trying to choose his words carefully.
“i– he really hurt me, jay.” jay can hear the sniffle in your voice, mentally cursing out his best friend for being so damn blind to his own feelings this whole time. “i don’t… i don’t think i’m gonna go to class today. i can’t face him right now.” your voice is small, your spirit broken from what you overheard last night, knowing all of this, all of you, everything the two of you experienced together and made each other feel, truly meant nothing to him.
“eat up,” jay presents your plate to you. “how’d you know how i like my eggs?”
jay shrugs, grinning, “lucky guess,” he lies easily, knowing now wouldn’t be the right time to tell you that jake gave all six of his close friends a rundown on your favorite and most hated foods after getting plastered one night a few weeks ago.
heeseung ends up driving you back to your apartment, despite protests that it’s close enough to walk. he drops you off, making you promise to eat lunch at the least.
you spend the day lying in bed, alternating between crying until you can feel your chest heaving and a dryness in your eyes from having already cried all the liquid out of your body, to taking intermittent naps, snuggling under your blanket, grasping it tightly for any semblance of stability.
of all the people he chose to hurt, it had to be you. you, the person who has been with him through many stages of life, competing closely with him and hiding your feelings from the first day that you met. the doe eyed boy you met all those years ago felt like a distant memory from the man who decided to control your life and mind, using you for his own gain and tossing you aside when he felt it was fitting.
oh the things you’d do to forget you ever met sim jaeyun.
the next day you drag yourself out of bed, attempting to at least look presentable before stumbling into class, walking to the back and sitting next to riki, not daring to even glance in jake’s direction. riki greets you with a slight nod of his head and you offer him a small smile, the most genuine one you can muster up, for him not forcing you to speak. you know your voice will betray you, and the minute you start speaking you’ll cry instantly.
jake can’t stop looking back at you, his heart breaking every time he sees the frown etched into your features, brows tugged down and lips curling into the opposite of what he wants to see. he tries to catch your gaze, but you avoid him completely, “can he stop looking back here,” you mumble, pulling a small chuckle from riki’s lips. “don’t pay him any mind, y/n.”
the class goes by agonizingly slow, each pointed glance in your direction from jake tearing the pieces of your heart further apart. you ignore him time after time until the professor dismisses you, and you turn to riki with pleading eyes. “can i… can i walk out with you?”
“of course,” riki’s kindness makes your gloomy day a little bit brighter as he gathers his things and leads you out of the classroom, using the door furthest from jake. jake watches you leave, sighing deeply, hoping you won’t avoid him forever.
you walk into your next class with jake a minute late, glancing around to see all the seats taken besides your usual one beside the man you’d like to see the least right now. you set your things down gently and take your seat, watching the professor as they drone on about the lesson. you will your brain to focus on the lecture, but the presence beside you is causing a thumping in your skull and a buzz in your bones. jake keeps stealing glances at your profile, watching and holding himself back from reaching out to touch you gently, to calm the leg that you’re shaking beneath your desk.
you spend the period zoning out, not even caring when the teacher hands out the tests from last week, a high score sitting atop your worksheet. jake watches as you pick the paper up, seeing that he’s lost to you again. the realization doesn’t bring him anger or a competitive drive today, no, it brings him an immense feeling of being lost. jake thinks he’s lost apart of himself when you started ignoring him, and he knows it’s his own fault, vowing to heeseung that he’d fix what he broke between the two of you
you leave the classroom as quickly as humanly possible, hoping to escape without jake catching you. “y/n, please, can we talk?” he questions after catching your wrist in his grasp in the hallway.
you shake your head, watching him with a teary gaze, unable to even squeak out all the things you want to say to him. you want to curse him for ever making you fall for him completely. you urge to reach out and pound your fists against his chest, knowing he’s not hurting the way you are. you want to cry in front of him, making him watch to see how he’s broken you down to the lowest version of yourself. but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of any of these reactions, knowing he’d love to see you suffering because of him, knowing he played you just the exact way he planned to.
you yank your hand away from his grip, the skin burning after you rip it from his grasp. you leave as fast as your exhausted, beat down body can carry you, opting to skip the rest of the day’s obligations.
“y/n, here,” wonyoung perches herself on the side of your bed, “i brought you some ramen, heeseung dropped it off for you, said it’s his favorite brand.” heeseung had omitted the fact that this brand is actually jake’s favorite and not his, the sneaky bastard. she smiles as she presents the bowl to you, with some fresh toppings she obviously adding sitting atop the broth and noodle mixture.
“thanks, wony,” you take a bite, groaning at the taste, “this is so good.”
“good,” she watches you eat with worried eyes, “how are you feeling?”
you swallow your bite before looking up at her, “a little better, i guess.”
wonyoung offers you a weak smile, knowing it’s killing her inside to see you going through this situation with jake. “are you going to your next class?” she questions, hoping you’ll say yes, knowing your grades will start to be affected if you keep skipping the way you have the past few days. she also knows all too well that no man is worth jeopardizing your future over, no matter how long you’ve liked him.
you nod, slurping up the bowl’s contents with speed, “yeah, my professor emailed and asked if i was okay, and i don’t want to worry her any further.”
wonyoung nods in approval at your response, “good. just ignore him the whole time, okay?” to which you nod, gulping down the rest of your broth.
you approach your next class feeling a bit better after eating the meal wonyoung so generously made for you, even if ramen is quick and easy to make, she really didn’t have to care for you the way she did time and time again.
you feel a tug on your arm as someone tugs you in the opposite direction of the place you were heading to, pulling the both of you inside an empty classroom and blocking the exit.
you look up to see jake watching you, his eyes less bright than they usually appear to be, the spark you see whenever he’s hellbent on beating you seemingly absent from his gaze.
“please don’t,” you beg him, not wanting to hear him gloat or whatever the hell he’s planning to do here.
“y/n, please,” jake begs, eyes searching your face for some kind of reassurance that you wouldn’t leave, “please, i need to apologize.”
“you don’t have anything to apologize for,” you lie straight through your teeth, “so can i please just leave?”
jake’s pleading voice is slowly breaking down your resolve, “please, can i at least explain?” when you don’t answer, he takes the opportunity to start laying his feelings out on the table.
“whatever you heard me say, i know it sounded horrible, but i didn’t mean it.”
“oh, so you didn’t mean that i meant nothing to you?” he winces at the words that you throw back in his face, knowing that was one of the worst things he could’ve said.
“no, i didn’t mean it,” jake tells you, gaze piercing yours, “i– i was stupid, y/n, you have to believe me. i only said that to get sunghoon to back off, of course i care about you. i’ve spent how many years by your side? and you think i would actually hate you?”
the words ring in your ears, making your head hurt as you continue to listen to him. “i’m so sorry, y/n, i really am. sunghoon wouldn’t leave me alone and i just wanted him to shut up for once.” jake rubs his hands over his face, breathing a deep sigh against his palms before shoving them back into his jacket pockets, gaze meeting yours again. “when we started messing around… i didn’t know how i felt… i thought it was just fun. but every time i saw you i felt weird, and i didn’t know what it meant, i figured it was normal because we’ve been rivals for so long and i’ve always felt this drive to be better than you. but it started feeling different… i started to just want to be around you all the time, whether we were fucking or not, and i kept denying it to everyone who would ask me.”
jake’s mind flashes back to the countless times sunghoon has harassed him, asking when he’s going to confess to you. “i don’t know when i realized it, but i like you, y/n. i guess i have this whole time, and i’m so sorry i made you think that i didn’t.” he resists the urge to reach out and hold your hand in his, knowing the physical touch would likely only bring him comfort, versus the intent being to ground you as well. “i… i really fucked up, i shouldn’t have asked you to be in a friends with benefits relationship, i should’ve known that’s not what you wanted. i’m sorry if you ever felt like i was using you, i… i’m sorry i didn’t realize my feelings sooner.”
jake’s speech knocks the wind out of you as you stare at him blankly, tears brewing in your eyes, “jake, i–” you mumble, mind swimming at his admission. “thank you for apologizing, i– i think i need some time, if that’s okay.” he nods quickly in response, the action warming you up inside.
“take all the time you need. what i just said is a lot, and it’s okay if you don’t forgive me. i just needed to tell you before i lost you forever.”
“i– i’ll talk to you later okay?” jake nods, moving out of the way of the door, watching you walk away. anxiety brews in his gut as he hopes with his entire being that you’ll forgive him, even though deep down he wonders if he even deserves an ounce of forgiveness.
jake concludes that he doesn’t deserve your forgiveness, that he’s royally fucked up and he’s determined to fix what he’s broken between the two of you.
you let your emotions brew for a few days, jake choosing to give you space during class and every other time you find yourself near him. relief washes over you every time you see him and he doesn’t rush to your side, knowing the simple action would just further complicate the already confusing thoughts in your mind.
you’re still obviously hurt by what he said, jake’s words creating a hole in your heart feeling like you wasted so much time loving someone and hoping to be loved back, even agreeing to a relationship you knew you couldn’t handle without your emotions getting in the way somehow.
the sincerity of his apology and the fear in his eyes when he explained everything to you still remains in your mind, all the positive memories you have with jake sitting in the forefront of your consciousness. you are itching to forgive him, but the fear of him breaking your heart again rings through your mind with every passing thought.
you’ve made a decision in your head, praying it’s the right one, not wanting to get burned again.
“can i talk to you?”
jake nods his head, bidding his friend goodbye as he follows you through campus. you stop at a bench near the fountain by the engineering building, watching as the water spouts up in a gorgeous display, zoning out for a minute. jake waits patiently for you to speak as he takes a seat next to you.
“jake,” you turn to look at him, “i… i accept your apology.” jake’s eyes light up at your admission, “i know feelings are complicated, mine certainly are right now, i just– did you know the whole time how much i liked you?”
jake shakes his head, “no, y/n, i wouldn’t put you through that on purpose, i promise.”
you nod in response, watching your hands that are clasped together in your lap for a moment before looking back up at him. “i– do you really like me? you promise you’re not lying?”
jake nods, reaching out to take your hand in his, giving it a small squeeze, “no lies, i promise.”
“what… where do we go from here?”
jake thinks for a moment, not prepared for the question, before sucking in a breath and asking, “how about i take you out on a real date?”
he catches you off guard with his question, “yeah?” he nods, “yeah, pretty. i meant everything i said, i don’t want you to slip away when you mean so much to me… it just took me an embarrassingly long time to realize how absolutely infatuated with you i am.”
his last sentence makes you embarrassed and you attempt to hide your burning cheeks, knowing your ears are betraying you with the tips turning red. “okay, sim, you can take me on a date.” jake’s eyes sparkle at your agreement, relief crashing over his body in an overwhelming display. you smile at the way his eyes shine as he watches you, feeling contentment settle into your heart, as if he’s putting the broken pieces back together slowly, fixing what he accidentally broke inside you.
“jake, where are you taking me?” you question, brow quirked as the man you’ve wanted for so long stands before you, leaning against his sleek red car. the sight of him waiting so casually, eyes trained off at something in the distance, makes your heart flutter.
“hi, beautiful,” jake greets you, grabbing your hand and raising it above your head, guiding you to do a spin for him as he appreciates your outfit. “you look gorgeous, angel.”
“you don’t look so bad yourself, handsome.” you smile at jake as he leads you to the passenger side, opening the door for you and helping you inside. he steps over and takes his seat on the driver’s side, the engine revving to life with the press of a button. “where are we heading?"
jake uses his left hand to steer, the right resting on the gear shift as he takes the two of you off campus, being extra careful as his car now has precious cargo inside. “it’s a surprise,” the midday sun beams down on the two of you as he turns into a neighborhood. you watch his face, appreciating every feature that you’ve admired for years, heart swelling at the thought of the man in front of you reciprocating your feelings.
jake shifts the car into park after a short drive and you look around, taking in the surrounding area. a playground sits in front of you, a small forest sitting a ways behind it, tall trees towering over everything nearby. the sun still cascades through the leaves as jake opens your door, shutting it behind you as you step onto the asphalt of the parking lot surrounding you. he opens his small trunk, pulling a basket out and a small pink and white checkered blanket. you feel a buzz beneath your skin as your eyes sparkle, realizing jake has packed the two of you a picnic lunch for your first date.
jake leads you over to a small patch of grass behind the playground set, the spot having the greenest grass. you wonder if he picked this spot special for the two of you, the possibility of it making your heart soar. he lays the blanket down, flattening it out so no wrinkles are in sight before placing the basket on top and helping you sit down.
“don’t go thinking i’m some master chef now, okay? i had jay help me…” jake says, wanting to hide his face in embarrassment as he pokes fun at himself. you watch as he pulls a variety of dishes out, “but i made some stuff by myself, too!”
this feels strange, but seeing the usually confident and argumentative man you have fought against academically for all these years seemingly doubting himself? it is definitely a different sensation than the ones you’re used to. but the sight made your insides feel fuzzy, butterflies sprouting in your tummy, watching in real time as you feel yourself falling for him even more. “jake, this is lovely,” you place a hand on his arm, his movements halting in response as you reassure him, giving him a light squeeze. “you’re lovely. i’m flattered you did all of this for me.”
“i wanted you to see that i’m serious about this, about us.”
jake takes the plates and bowls out, handing you one, before setting the silverware down in the middle of the blanket. “here, we made some of my favorites and some foods i remember you mentioning over the years… i hope you still like them,” you can hear how nervous he is, “jake, seriously, stop freaking out. it’s just me,” you tell him as he opens one of the glass dishes revealing a bowl of homemade kimchi stew, a dish you know jake has loved for a long time.
“that doesn’t help me,” jake laughs a little at his own embarrassment and nerves, “that’s the whole reason why i’m so nervous… you’re you, and this is my one chance to show you how much i care about you.”
you watch as he opens the next dish, a box of chocolate covered strawberries, “jake,” you glance up, meeting his eyes as you nearly cry at the worried look in them, “i don’t remember the last time i even had these… thank you.”
“i remember you mentioned them sometime in sophomore year,” jake replies sheepishly, scratching at the back of his neck nervously. “holy shit, that makes me sound like such a creep.”
you shake your head, watching jake, “stop it, jake, seriously. i think it’s adorable that you remembered that from so long ago. it’s not weird or creepy!”
jake sees the sincerity in your gaze, letting out a breath of relief, “i… i really like you, seriously, i don’t want to mess up my one chance.”
you grab the sides of jake’s face and gently pull him towards you, capturing his lips in your own, hoping to wash away some of his worries with the action. you feel lighter as you kiss him, his plush, delicate lips feeling like heaven against your own. you missed kissing him, and kissing him now feels so… different. refreshingly so, knowing that the man you’re holding in your arms reciprocates your own feelings that you’ve pushed down and hid from the world for so long.
you pull away after a moment, resting your head against his, “you haven’t messed anything up, jake, okay?”
jake stares into your eyes, his emotions bubbling and growing beneath the surface, watching as he falls more in love with you the longer he watches your gorgeous irises stare back at him, ones that he wouldn’t mind getting lost in. “okay, y/n.” you seal your promise with another kiss, feeling him smile against your lips this time, knowing the man you’re sitting across from is the same one you fell for all those years ago. caring, kind, extremely driven, gorgeous, and above all, captivating in every way, his drive and need to succeed always pushing yourself to be the best version of yourself. and you know his drive to be the best has extended here, going above and beyond to impress you with a sentimental date, the concept of which makes you feel mushy inside.
time passes quickly, conversation and good food flowing between the two of you, giggles and stories being shared, feeling yourself fall further for him the longer you spent by his side. when the sky starts to darken with clouds and the threat of rain, you and jake pack quickly, rushing to the car when raindrops start to fall on your heads. jake drives you both back to campus, the ambience of the water falling on the hood of the car along with the low lull of the radio causing you to fall asleep. jake pulls into his usual parking spot outside his apartment building, picking you up in his arms and setting the picnic basket on your stomach, carrying you to his home, a small studio apartment on the second floor. after somehow unlocking the door without dropping you or waking you up, he sets the picnic basket on the counter before placing you in his bed, tucking you in under his freshly washed blanket. jake busies himself with putting leftovers away as you sleep before coming to join you, sneaking under the covers and spooning you.
jake places a small kiss against the back of your head, watching as your stomach rises and falls peacefully with each quiet breath you take. “sleep well, angel.”
“i haven’t told the guys yet,” jake’s statement shocks you as the two of you walk into the frat hand in hand, a bustling party happening around you. you couldn’t believe after three successful dates and jake asking you to be his girlfriend, that he has kept that from his friends for all that time. “i wanted to tell them together, so they couldn’t bully me.” he jokes, leading you through the house, looking for his three best friends.
you find the three of them standing at the end of a hallway, near the room where you and jake first hooked up. you blush at the sight, glancing up at your boyfriend who gives you a quick wink. “what’s happening in your pretty little head, angel?”
“nothing,” you smack his arm, attempting to push him forwards to meet his friends, “let’s go talk to them before you or i do something crazy.”
“crazy doesn’t necessarily mean bad, though,” jake teases you before relenting, walking towards his friends who all smile at the sight of the two of you.
“i told you so,” heeseung grins the widest of all before jay and sunghoon’s faces drop suddenly, “pay up, jayhoon.”
“stop fucking calling us that,” sunghoon shoves his friend’s shoulder before fishing a $50 bill out of his wallet, jay doing the same but with a $100. “jay you should just be my sugar daddy at this point,” heeseung smirks as he tucks the bills into the inside pocket of his jacket.
sunghoon scoffs at heeseung’s words, shoving his wallet back into his pocket. “heejay will never be a thing, so keep dreaming.” jay teases before looking at you and jake again, watching as you lean your head against his arm as you continue to hold his hand. “glad you came to your senses, jakey boy… i told you it’d work out, didn’t i, y/n?”
“you didn’t say anything remotely close to those words, jay,” you argue, to which he shrugs, “well, i was going to but then you started hitting me.”
“you were playing twenty questions with me while i was in a crisis!”
“we’re actually… i asked y/n to be my girlfriend last week,” jake scratches the back of his head, “so expect to see her around a lot more.”
“ha!” sunghoon smacks heeseung’s shoulder, “pay up!” he sticks his hands out to the other two men, who promptly give him $20 each.
you watch as the money is exchanged, “how much betting on us did you guys do?”
heeseung smirks at the two of you, “a lot. it’s been happening for longer than either of you will ever know.”
“nobody expected jake to actually man up and ask you to be his girlfriend officially this soon except hoon,” jake smacks heeseung and jay at this admission as you realize the trio has known of your semi secret dating the entire time, “what the hell, guys!”
“doesn’t matter, because it all worked out, didn’t it, lovebirds?” heeseung watches you two with a pleased look on his face, “and i knew it would happen, it just took a little while for jake to get his head out of his ass.”
“be nice,” you scold heeseung, “he didn’t know, don’t be mean, heeseung.”
heeseung relents, raising his hands in a defensive manner, “fine, fine.”
the five of you fall into a comfortable conversation, with jay cracking jokes and sunghoon laughing at all of them, heeseung watching them both with amusement in his gaze.
“can we go home? i’m kinda tired…” you ask jake after a while of conversing and enjoying yourself with the four men, staring up at him with two wide eyes that he realizes he’s never been able to say no to, and today will not be the day that he starts. little does he know the ulterior motive brewing in your stomach, wetness growing between your legs since you passed by the room where the two of you first slept together. “sure, pretty. let’s go.” the two of you bid your goodbyes to the trio, watching as they bicker about their betting habits as you head out.
the two of you drive back to jake’s apartment, which will soon be yours since your lease with wonyoung is coming up, and your soon to be former roommate and still current best friend has decided to take a semester abroad, getting into her dream program that she’s been talking about since the summer.
“are you really tired, baby?” a mischievous smile overtakes your features as you shake your head, leading jake to the bed and pushing him to sit on the edge of it. “oh, i see…” jake smiles, hands covering the expanse of your hips as you straddle to sit on his lap.
“want you to make love to me, jakey,” you plead, grinding your core down onto him.
“god, angel–” jake groans at the feeling of you pressing yourself against him, “fuck, you drive me crazy,” he pushes you down further onto his clothed member as you continue your motions, needing to feel more friction. “if i weren’t so hard right now i’d make you ride my thigh forever.”
you groan at his admission, movements faltering and he takes your moment of distraction to pick you up, placing you against the pillows. he pulls back for a moment, tugging his shirt over his head and you gawk at the sight of his toned stomach, only ever seeing it in glimpses during your previous escapades.
“mmm, i could just eat you up,” you tell him, running your fingernails up and down gently along his abs, “can’t believe you’ve hidden this under your shirts all this time…”
“you were itching to get a peek all these years, weren’t you, baby?” jake teases as he takes your shirt off next, tugging your bra off after and pinching a nipple between his fingers. you groan, back arching up as he sucks on the opposite one harshly. “j– jake–” you groan, hands threading into his hair and pulling lightly. he groans against your skin, loving the feeling of the pain rushing through his scalp. “oooh, you like that, pretty boy?” jake moans as you pull his mouth away from your nipple, eyes fluttering shut at the sting traveling through his scalp as you tug at his locks again.
“stop,” jake begs, “another time, baby, let me take care of you tonight.” he sighs in relief as you release your hold on his hair. “alright, sim, you’re free to go this time… but i’ll be saving that for later, baby boy.”
“god, you’re such a menace,” jake groans as his mind returns from the subspace he was slowly slipping into, sliding down the bed until he’s eye level with your core, seeing the wetness nearly escaping from your thin panties. he tugs your skirt off unceremoniously, “been wanting to eat you since the first night i had you, pretty,” jake bites at your panties and yanks them down with his teeth, the sight making you whimper at the pure sex appeal oozing from the man beneath you. jake leans in and dips his tongue between your folds. “fuck, knew you’d taste so sweet, angel.”
jake eats you out like a man starved, slobbering into your folds, pushing his tongue into your pussy, flicking his tongue inside of you. you moan loudly, hands gripping the sheets on the bed, a nearly pornographic sound escaping your lips as jake sucks harshly on your clit, stars appearing behind your eyelids.
“fuck, jake–” you glance down to see the man of your dreams perched between your legs, whimpering at the sight of him biting your inner thighs and gripping your legs tightly, holding them wide open for him to have full access. “you close, angel?” he smiles up at you, the vision of him with your wetness coating his mouth and chin pulling another noise from your parted lips. you nod quickly, “please, jake,” you plead, a request he responds to by continuing his assault on your already abused and leaking pussy, his tongue’s movements pulling a well deserved orgasm from your body, watching as your back arches up, pushing your core further into his mouth.
“jake!” you whine, fluid still gushing out, eyes squeezed shut as the pleasure continues to pass over you in overwhelming waves. “‘s too much!”
“oh no it’s not, my sweet angel girl can take it,” jake argues before biting your clit.
“ahh!–” you scream, the sound bringing a smile to jake’s face, continuing to push you to overstimulation with his wet muscle’s motions against your pussy.
jake finally relents after you’re nearly in tears from the overwhelming sensations he’s putting your body through, bringing his face up to be level with yours, his clothed member pressing against your still dripping pussy, “you’re so pretty when you cry, baby.” he whispers with sincerity, capturing your lips in a quick, searing kiss before pulling away again to whisper, “i only ever want to see you cry because i’m making you feel good, okay?”
“okay, jake,” you whisper in response, smile tugging at the corner of your lips at your boyfriend’s insistence on treating you right until the end of time.
“no more crying unless it’s on my cock,” jake smirks, the words making you clench at your pure attraction and adoration for the man in front of you.
watching jake tug his pants down his legs makes you groan, staring down at the huge bulge pressing against his thin boxers. “stop teasing, jake,” you whine.
“baby can’t wait any longer?” you shake your head, watching as jake pulls his boxers off, the blushing, leaking tip of his cock making your mouth water. “ahh, what an eager girl. if you weren’t dripping onto my sheets right now i’d make you suck my cock. but i’ll be nice and give my baby what she needs.” jake rambles on as you can do nothing but stare at his length, drooling at the sight of it, knowing the stretch it gives you is always delicious, never fully adjusting to his generous size even after all the times you’ve been together.
jake breaches your entrance, letting just the tip sit inside your hole. you wiggle, trying to force him further inside, “patience, baby,” he scolds and you whimper at his strict tone coming out. “don’t want me to punish you, do you?” you shake your head. you know you could take a punishment, but right now you just want jake to hold you close as he makes love to you.
jake slowly slides in further, watching with hungry eyes as your hole takes him easily, “fuck, baby, i’m gonna keep you stuffed, my sexy ass girlfriend deserves to be filled up all hours of the day,” he babbles as he buries himself to the hilt, the snug fit of your walls filling his brain with even more delicious, dirty thoughts.
“mm– feel so full,” you mutter, watching jake’s face with adoration and love in your eyes, “thank you, jakey,” you whimper as he slides nearly all the way out, allowing just the tip to stay inside before pushing back in slowly, groaning at the feeling of your gummy walls sucking him right back in without protest, “god, this tiny pussy was made just for my cock.” you nod in response, seeing jake watching your face now before he’s wrapping his arms around your shoulders, pressing himself as close to you as he possibly can as he presses his face into your neck, sucking and biting at the junction between your throat and shoulder. jake tries desperately to leave marks, wanting to see them on your gorgeous skin when he wakes up next to you the following morning; little does he know you’ll wake him up with his cock in your mouth, mumbling around the dick that pushes an ache to your jaw about how you just wanted to help as you saw him sleeping with a tent in his boxers.
“need you closer,” you plead as jake rocks slowly in and out of you, love penetrating each thrust as he buries himself as deep as possible inside your pretty hole, the sensations pushing jake to the edge, the rubber band in his stomach begging to snap. “ugh–” you groan against jake’s lips as he captures them in a kiss, slow and sloppy but so full of want and need and unspoken pleas of never leave my side.
jake pulls away from the kiss, continuing to push into you with slow movements, wanting to feel every inch of your walls with each drag of his cock, holding his impending orgasm back behind gritted teeth, “tell me what you need, baby, wanna feel you cum all over my cock.”
“just need you,” you plead, eyes watering from the overwhelming presence of jake bearing his body to you, his mind and soul on display as he shows you how much he needs you with each loving action. “just need you,” you repeat, mind slipping away as he continues his movements, hips never tiring as he chases what he knows you need. jake removes one arm from your neck to snake down to your core, rubbing between your folds to gather up your own wetness before rubbing against your clit in the pattern he knows you love.
“fuck– jakey–” you groan, burying your head into the crook of his neck as he stares down at where the two of you meet, mind never getting tired of the visual of you taking him all inside, his length sliding in and out with ease. jake begins to fuck into you faster, nearly rutting against you as he chases the orgasm he knows is brewing in your gut. “come on, my angel girl, make a mess on me,” his words in your ears as you pull away from his neck to look at him. you nearly cry seeing jake meet your gaze; his delicate brown eyes meeting your own, need swimming in his gaze, “fuck!–” you gasp, beginning to babble words that don’t register in your mind as your high washes over you. jake watches your eyes fluttering shut, finally allowing himself to cum with you, pushing as deep as he can. jake watches as your breathing returns to normal, glancing down at the white ring surrounding his length, some of your cum mixture escaping and spilling everywhere. “god, baby, look at you. my perfect angel.” he traces his thumb along your cheek, watching a smile overtake your lips, knowing you’re utterly spent after only two orgasms. the day’s festivities have taken a toll on you, and he can see the tiredness in your eyes as they watch him with adoration.
you smile, “you don’t even know how happy you make me.”
jake cleans both of you off diligently, promising to throw the bedding in the wash tomorrow, knowing the cum would stain if you left it any longer. “i love you,” he breathes out, watching your face for a reaction at his sudden admission. you nearly cry as the words reach your ears, an overwhelming sensation in your gut. “you do?” you whimper, eyesight feeling blurring from the tears accumulating along your lashline. “i do, baby.”
“i love you, too, jakey.” he wraps you in a hug, neither of you caring that you’re both still naked, just needing to feel his hands holding you close to him. your voice is shaky and quiet as he holds you impossibly close, “i love you so much, you don’t even know.”
jake pulls back, holding your shoulders and placing kisses all over your face, on any spot he can reach, “you don’t know how happy i am to hear that, angel. you’ve made my life so much better.”
“now you have a built in study partner for life,” you tease, smiling at his continued onslaught of gentle kisses across your cheeks and nose, on your eyelids and on the corner of your mouth. “for life, huh?” jake teases, watching as your cheeks burn red at the realization of what you’ve said.
“don’t worry, pretty. now that i have you, i��m never letting you go.”
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Little League Karting | George Russell x Reader
Summary: Fighting against Lando's big mouth and fans' speculations, George and Yn somehow managed to keep a special moment hidden from the private eye.
Requested: Yes by anon
Warnings: Pregnancy. Swearing, Fluff. Suggestive comments
2023 season. Pinterest pics
F1 Masterlist
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yn_ln just posted
liked by alexandrasaintmleux, alex_albon and others
yn_ln happy anniversary, georgie. here’s to 5 years together. i can’t wait to have at least 50 more with you
2,992 comments
georgerussell63 happy anniversary, my darling. i’d spend forever with you on that beach
alex_albon still can’t believe he went on holiday without me
→ landonorris he stopped loving us 5 years ago
→ georgerussell63 you know you’re always in my heart
→ yn_ln and this is why @/lilymhe and i are running away together
→ georgerussell63 but, i thought you loved me
user1 another day, another shirtless george pic
mercedesamgf1 the cutest grid couple
→ landonorris actually that would be me and carlos
→ danielricciardo no it’s me and max
→ yn_ln stop stealing my moment
charlesleclerc @/georgerussell63 as director of the gpda, i would like you to hear my complaint against your girlfriend posting shirtless pics of you. it has blinded me, thus hindering my ability to drive on sunday
→ yn_ln maybe if you looked at the track more than yourself in the mirror, you would see better
→ charlesleclerc now i’m complaining that she’s hurted my feelings
pierregasly it wouldn’t be a photo dump without shirtless george
user2 so no ring?
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yn_ln just posted
liked by mercedesamgf1, roscoelovescoco and others
yn_ln my weekend boys
3,850 comments
user3 who’s your favourite
→ yn_ln bono and roscoe
→ georgerussell63 whoa now. i’ll remember this energy when you want me to stroke your back as you fall asleep
→ mercedesamgf1 toto said he would like to talk to you on thursday
→ yn_ln the boss man knows he has a special place in my heart?
→ mercedesamgf1 the question mark makes that doubtful - toto
lilymhe okay but the fit is serving
→ yn_ln had to squeeze myself into those jeans. think i need to stop sneaking a macca’s when george isn’t around
→ lilymhe so long as we can keep our cheeky waffle sundays
→ yn_ln always ;)
→ georgerussell63 excuse me
landonorris fake caption, alex and i aren’t here
→ danielricciardo i think you’ll find i’m her favourite
→ yn_ln my favourite doesn’t race anymore :(
→ georgerussell63 sweetheart, kimi hasn’t raced for over a year
mercedesamgf1 lewis isn’t happy that you chose the photo that makes him look small
→ yn_ln i haven’t yet mastered photoshop. please pass my condolences to lewis for showing him his actual height
user4 my favourite thing about yn’s race weekend posts is seeing how hot she looks in her race day fits
→ user5 yes because she spends fri and sat in Mercedes merch and then SERVES on sundays
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formula1 have added a new YouTube video
user6 not them still being referred to as 2019 rookies like it’s not their 5th year on the grid
user7 did anyone catch what alex said at the end that made george and lando laugh?
→ user8 no i swear it was edited so we couldn’t hear
user9 did you guys see the way alex and george looked at each other? they know something!
→ user10 and the way lando giggled after like he’d done something wrong
user11 not george trying to save himself by saying she’s always in his heart
→ user12 if i was yn, i’d be messaging him saying i caught the ick
→ user13 no because even george looked weirded out after saying it
→ user14 lando and alex immediately taking the piss out of him
→ user15 didn’t he say that to alex and lando once?
user16 lando definitely said something he wasn’t supposed to
→ user17 the fear in george and alex’s eyes before they tried to play it off
→ user18 and we can all tell that little league line was bullshit he made up on the spot
user20 okay so we’re all thinking that one of the grid are having a baby right?
→ user21 the only question is who?
user22 but aside from his brief blunder, the way george spoke about yn in this
→ user23 honestly my goal in life is to have a love like theirs
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yn_ln just posted
liked by carlossainz55, lewishamilton and others
yn_ln don’t mind me, just showing off my extensive hoodie collection
3,002 comments
user1 everyone relax, she’s alive
user2 girl, you can’t vanish for 3 months and then show up just to post hoodies?
user3 i love yn but i cannot pretend that this is acceptable. she abandoned us for months and no apology
user4 no babe, we need you back in the paddock serving face and body
landonorris oi, i’ve given you like five and you can’t be bothered- the audacity
danielricciardo DR3 dominance, baby!
carlossainz55 smooth operator
user5 love that she posts a lewis one, not a george one
→ user6 i find it odd. she hasn’t posted him in a while and he’s not liked the post
→ user7 she only posted it 5 hours ago, give the man time
→ user8 but he’s usually always first and no comment?
charlesleclerc wait, i didn’t realise you were taking options from other drivers. can i add to the collection?
→ yn_ln only if it has ‘just an incident’ on it
maxverstappen1 i’ve got one with giant pockets so you can put all your snacks in it
→ yn_ln ladies and gentleman we have a winner!
→ alex_albon i can’t believe he won
→ yn_ln yeah well he tempted me with pickles and peanut butter
→ oscarpiastri together?
→ yn_ln is that a judging tone!
→ oscarpiastri no! please don’t cry again
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user9 um why is this hashtag trending. let’s not speak this into existence
user10 okay some of you calling us crazy but george and yn are one of the more public couples and now we get nothing?
→ user11 i need an interviewer to ask him about her because the way his eyes light up when he talks about her can’t lie to us
→ user12 yes! if the eyes are sad then we know they’re over
albonooo lily asked me to tell you to stop licking the screen
→ lightningmclerc oh so THOSE hormones have kicked in
→ letsgolando they never left, how do you think she ended up in this situation
→ ynoncrack i am not a horndog!
→ princessgeorge well…
chili55 please don’t have another child if this is what we have to deal with
→ ynoncrack have i really been that bad 🥺 george said i haven’t been that hormonal
→ kiksgomes what is wrong with you, carlos! we just got her to stop crying
→ princessgeorge oh no, what’s up, honey?
→ golflils she was upset because your curls looked amazing and she couldn't run her hands through them
→ ynoncrack oh my god, i am a horndog!
letsgolando all i’m saying, baby russell better be mega adorable after all this
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georgerussell63 and yn_ln just posted
liked by alex_albon, landonorris and others
georgerussel63 baby russell was born happy and healthy two weeks ago. whilst we settle into life as new parents, please enjoy some baby bump pictures to tide you over
10,499 comments
alex_albon i’m so happy for the two of you and can’t wait to meet mini russell
→ lilymhe you’re just glad yn won’t be crying on facetime anymore
→ alex_albon that too
user1 okay but the hand placement wow
→ user2 we all know how they ended up here then lol
lewishamilton much love to the new parents ❤️
user3 oh so the complete opposite of a breakup then
user4 hang on a second. so not only was yn pregnant but they've had the baby? parents for real?
user5 how did gossip girl george russell keep this from us
→ user6 especially when he saw us all theorising his breakup
→ georgerussell63 trust me, it was hard
→ yn_ln he wrote a bunch of tweets defending us on a fake account
charles_leclerc congratulations george and yn. i cannot wait to meet the little one
→ alexandrasaintmleux he's already had a bunch of baby ferrari onesies made
→ alex_albon over my dead body will my godbaby wear those!
williamsracing congratulations. what happy news
→ mercedesamgf1 you can’t have him back
→ yn_ln neither of you can have him over the next month. he’s all mine and bean’s
francisca.cgomes free my girl! those boobs belong to me
→ yn_ln always
→ georgerussell63 @/pierregasly please come get your girl. she's trying to steal mine
→ pierregasly she’s right though. you don’t need to be groping her like that on main
→ georgerussell63 oh no one asked you, “tripod”
landonorris oh, thank god. took you long enough to tell the world he was here. keeping it to myself these past few months was giving me wrinkles
→ user7 they’ve had a boy!!!
→ landonorris crap
→ alex_albon well done mate
→ landonorris but i did so well!
→ user8 omg so it was george and yn who were expecting when lando made up that bullshit about little league karting
→ landonorris hey! i want to see their kid in a go kart so it wasn’t a total lie
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Tag list
@peachiicherries @rosecentury @leclercsluvs (you mentioned wanting to read this on an ask WEEKS ago and it's taken me forever to write it so i am so sorry!)
#formula 1#f1#formula 1 smau#f1 smau#formula 1 social media au#f1 social media au#social media au imagine#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 headcanon#formula 1 drabble#formula 1 one shot#formula 1 fluff#formula 1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 headcanon#f1 drabble#f1 one shot#f1 fluff#f1 x reader#george russell#george russell imagine#george russell drabble#george russell headcanon#george russell one shot#george russell fluff#george russell smau#george russell x reader
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OOHHHHH!! TO END THIS POST WITH THE FIRST SENTENCE OF "JACKET"!! THATS SO COOL!!
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THESE PAST TEN YEARS!! PLEASE CONTINUE YOUR YAPPING TO YOUR HEARTS CONTENT!!
HAPPY TEN YEARS TO THIS BLOG AND JACKET
if you've been here as long as this blog's existence then, know i'm finna yap:
sorry but warning for me and my mental health and my journey here...
smiles i am only human after all <:3 without further ado—
i've put off this post for... many reasons (hoildays, stress, perfectionism, anxiety) but maybe i'll keep this rendition and not chicken out or delete it because it's not perfect?
i really still can't believe i missed the anniversary for this! nov 29th huh? (yes i can actually !!! at the time i had just started a new job and that's where all my willpower has been.) but i fondly remember those ten years ago, that nov 29th is just as close to december anyway. so i always lead myself to think it's dec and not nov! details !!!
i don't think it'd make a difference but i do so want to get this in before the new year... (adding unnecessary stressors to myself smh)
it's been quite a ride through addhell. it's weird... to think how much has happened here. it's insane to think about how this one white hair anime boy changed my live in ways i could never fathom
picture it with me, a no one in a group of friends. with nothing but... the ambition of friendship, and the love of writing to fuel him, and a new username ready to take on the world: mymastermine.
that group of friends holds three: me, my would be DIE, and my would be LP. (does... does anyone remember those days of us three causing chaos laughs - tho mostly two, i suppose) we would make our way into the fandom, make tons of things, meet some people, make things with those people and make friends, lose some people, and grow, grow, grow...
there's just been... so much in ten years. ten years guys !!! that's a lot !!! i was a proud senpai and kouhai all at once! i'd found a really cool sensei. i ran into artists who drew things for me and i wrote for them!
i watched the rise AND fall of void els (raise your hand if you're an oger), in real time watched vMM became a cultural phenomenon (you're lying to yourself if you dont think he was - ykb did something irreversible to the add fandom that day i fear 😂 he's still relevant to this day lmFAO thank ykb for ur service), i watched the top LP/bottom LP debates :/, i'd poked my head into the els tag to see yall fighting but then i'd see some cool things too! i've seen so many cool projects and zines -- hell, got to actually take part in one! (cringe as it was - our writing, not the zine but still proud of doing that !!!)
addcest/hellsword (tumblr) isn't what it use to be though. (hell tumblr itself isn't what it use to be, let's be real LMAO) but... i think that i love that hasn't stopped some of us for cherishing and/or still loving add to this day.
i think if you'd told past me i'd be doing this, writing for one (1) singular anime boy, i wouldn't be surprised - couldn't expect it to go any other way i think
i'm not sure how to feel that ten years later i am still writing for him - it's been quite obvious where i felt it wane (but that was more my life and mental health (was in quite few depressive episodes - still am lmao), and joy - or lack thereof at the times - of writing and placing my joy momentarily elsewhere) but... wow i'm still here? LMAO
but i've met so many amazing people because of him... i've made connections, some not quite lasting, but then... there's always someone else there isn't there?
(i met dez and rain-kouhai for the first time recently! i've met more people for add hell between now and maybe 2-3 years ago! can you imagine that??? people still interacting, still wanting to talk about add - i literally can't! i go on twitter kr/jp and go "wow new add fanart" and feel so lucky !!!)
it's just little joys like this that makes me appreciate such things
i guess what i'm trying to say... thank you add for all the connections i've had and made.
thank you to my original trio
thank you to addhell tumblr... ! (literally would have never known some of yall)
thank you to void els (for gay add marriage lmao but also some more cool friends and mutuals)
thanks discord for hosting gay add ramblings and ao3 for letting me put my gay shit there
thank you - to anyone and everyone who has ever read my work and supported me - friends, mutuals, strangers, anons - and to anyone who's drawn/wrote for or with me! (yes, i think about your comments, your kind words, your support! yes your comment, you!) 😭😭😭 it is the simple act of creating and sharing/encouraging that seriously drives me forward in every word i type... and this alone feels like it's not enough!
but mostly, thank you add, for everything, really
where da hell would this bnuuy be without you?
i was going to... add a more emotional spiel but i think this is good enough, don't nya'll think? :')
"i'm so glad you're still here even after all these past ten years"
you know what? i think i might just be too
thanks for the one whole decade everyone wahoo !!!
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"they shared a bed together." - jacket, nov 29th 2014
#once again HAPPY TEN YEARS MY LORD!!#I really must say this: I was there#I was there when the chaotic trio wrote the stories that helped me deal with the struggles of my teenage years#I was there when your “fights” with your LP cheered me up on the days I felt numb#I still remember the hype I felt every time I saw a new post with your username as the author#I'm not kidding; the moment i get to see one of your post with the magic words of “Tittle” “Pairing” “Words” and “Summary” thats when i kne#I knew i was going to read another one of your fanfics and the joy i would feel after that I still keep it in my heart#I don't want to be cheesy and bore you with my past but up to this date I can say your writing has given me a happiness like no other#I can't even try to explain... I was a teenager who sat in the back of the class with a Nokia Lumina 520 hidden on her left pocket#that teenager after finishing early an assignment or during lunch would take her phone out carefully so the teachers wouldn't notice#and she would read again and again Psykerberserker's and Mymastermine's stories till the bell rang or till the teachers almost caught her#I would like to add that back then I didn't have browsing data so I had to read screenshots or PDFs with the “Copy - paste” version-#- of your writing. That phone wasn't an android or an IOS device so i couldn't use the Tumblr app or read your fics on a browser.#Sadly that phone d!ed but I'm sure if I could turn it on again it would still contain those screenshots and PDFs.#They were my treasure. My joy. And my happiness.#I could still talk more about my past but I thing that's enough. sorry if you had to search what is a Nokia Lumina 520 ^^;;#but I can't go without saying that the day when you post “Tedious Training” it was my father's birthday-#-we were celebrating in a restaurant and I get a chance to get the wifi pass. I was bored so I checked if you post anything and OHH MY GAAA#I wasn't expecting that and I couldn't just read the fic right there so as soon I got home I ran to turn on my laptop#I HAVE READ THAT FIC SO MANY TIMES AND EACH TIME ITS SUCH A THRILL TO READ IT. I LOVE IT I CAN GET ENOUGH#I LOVE LOVE LOVEEEEEE YOUR WRITING!!!#I'm sorry if I sounded so normal/ chill / or calm. No I'm not normal about your writing I'M OBSESSED I LOVE IT.#“Jacket” was the first fic I read about your writing and that's when I fell in love with it.#“Distractions” is what made me realize I love the idea of LP having a tattoo and I'm so glad KOG gave tattoo/marks to DBr on his arms#to read “Psyker's Plan” every Christmas or new year during family gatherings saved me during these holidays#and have I talked about my obsession with “Tedious Training”? No? oh well allow me talk about it with one more tag:#THAT FIC IS SO PEAK!!#the part of Psyker saying: “I see there are no more complains”...“Because”...“I want you”...“Right Now”...“I want to take you right here MM#OHOHOOHOHO!!! THAT PART LIVES RENT FREE ON MY EMPTY BRAIN WITH MY LAST BRAINCELL AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!#I JUST PICTURE YOU LIKE THAT GIF OF A GUY WRITING AND THE PAPER IS ON FIRE AS HE WRITES. TRULY A MASTERPIECE OF A PARAGRAPH!!!
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riding bound abby's strap
summary: abby has teased you all day, so you decide to get back at her by taking away her most treasured sense: touch.
content: dom abby turned sub abby, strap on sex, like very very brief mommy kink? (it was literally one time), dry humping, bondage (pretty vanilla tho, just hands tied by a belt), kinda strip teasing
notes: this is so yummy omg. i've also had this idea for prob a solid two months but i’m just now writing it 🤗
(wc 1.3k)
abby lived to tease you. whether it was fleeting touches or whispering nasty things in your ear in public, she loved to see how you lost all composure from seemingly innocent actions.
today, though, it was too much. she decided to wear her strap the entire day while you two were out shopping, constantly standing behind you and pulling your hips into her own so you'd feel her packing. she also refused to kiss you all day, promising she'd make up for it once you two got home. she'd pissed you off and you needed to get back at her somehow.
with your pent-up frustration, you found yourself straddling abby's lap while she sat at the dinner table, work papers splayed across the stained hardwood. your hips mindlessly ground into the impossible-to-ignore bulge beneath her jeans, moaning while she sucked marks around the pulse of your neck.
snaking your hands down her torso to unbuckle her pants, butterflies warm your lower stomach at a brewing thought. swinging your leg back over hers, you settle on your knees in between her meaty thighs and pull her belt from her waist and place it on the floor near you. you grab the hem of her shirt and rip it over her head, throwing it to the other side of the room and leaving her in her bra.
abby leans back in the chair and smiles at you on your knees before her. "getting straight to the point, are we?" she smirks.
your hands keep moving to undress her, pushing her jeans over her butt and moving her boxers down just enough for her faux clear cock to spring out, your mouth nearly watering at the sight. pressing your lips to the tip, you spit down the length and wrap your hand around it to lube the silicone up.
you then smirk up at her, half mischief and half seduction as you rise from your knees and trail your hand up her chest. walking around the chair to be behind her, you drop a kiss on the crown of her head, her leather belt hidden in your hand behind your back.
her head turns back to look at you, and you grab her chin and smash your lips against hers to distract her as you grab her wrists and pull them together, quickly wrapping her belt around them and fastening the buckle, tightly.
she pulls back from the kiss and flicks her eyes between yours, arousal painted brightly across her features.
"did you just..." she chuckles in disbelief, her eyes squinting. "did you just tie me up?"
"someone thought it was funny to tease me all day, touching me in places you know will rile me up. well, you've touched me enough for today, so this'll have to do." you pat her cheek twice, your words dripping in mock sympathy.
she incredulously shakes her head and smiles, wetting her bottom lip with her tongue. "you know what? you can have your fun," she concludes, sure that she'd be able to wiggle her way out of the restraints before you came so she could properly fuck you the way she wanted to.
"perfect," you breathe out, kissing her cheek before walking back around to stand in front of her. you make a show out of undressing yourself, taking your sweet time with caressing your curves and soaking in how her pupils dilate at the sight.
after pushing your black leggings over the curve of your ass and pulling them from your ankles, you pull the loose-fitted t-shirt over your head, looking at the simple seal on the breast once you drop it to the floor.
all that's left is your underwear and your bra. you kick the polka-dot panties down, but decide to leave your bra on. it was simple: black with small, pink hearts covering the cups. abby seemed to like it, too. her eyes were locked on your bra-clad boobs, only moving to switch from one to the other.
you take the two steps to stand in between her legs, placing your hands on her shoulders to stabilize yourself as you look down at her dick. your eyes catch her pubic hair below the strap, and you think about going down on her with her tied up but she cuts your thoughts off with an impatient groan.
"come on, baby, you wanted to tie me up so bad. play your little game and ride me already," she orders, her eyes drinking you up.
her words and poorly masked desperation leave a warm feeling swirling in your stomach, so you swing your legs over hers to straddle her and grab the base of her cock to line it up.
your jaw drops open as you slowly sink down onto her length, long and breathy gasps making your chest rise and fall as you adjust to the thickness. you hear abby mutter "jesus christ" under her breath, and if your head wasn't thrown back, you'd see her strong arms twitching against the belt tying them together.
her hips jerk up into yours and push the rest of the length into you, making you hiss at the intrusion. "god," you whisper, and lift yourself back up before slamming your body back down.
"i- fuck!" abby yelps, not used to being unaware of the next move.
you fall into a steady rhythm, your thighs lifting and dropping you onto her dick. the way you were moving—the sounds you were making—would quickly push abby over the edge, but she was done letting you take control. she needed to touch you, needed to see the way your pussy swallowed her in with every thrust.
her hands begin to try and undo whatever maneuver you'd done to restrain them, but nothing budged. you notice her abs starting to tighten, a telltale sign that she was getting closer, and begin rocking your hips against hers and rubbing the base of the strap against her clit.
she starts getting frustrated at how you have full control over her, but deep in a place she'd never admit, it spurs her on more.
"wait, baby, wait wait. i can't- fuck. i want my hands. i need to touch you. i need my hands now," she pleads, her eyes starting to water at the oncoming orgasm.
you ignore her and start praising her, knowing it'll make her thighs shake.
"ohh, fuck," you say, your voice 90% air. "it feels... feels so good. you feel so good. always are so good to me, baby."
right on cue, her thighs start shaking beneath you, tears falling from her glossy eyes.
"oh, i can't- i can't, baby. i’m gonna cum," she whines, her groans replaced by needy whimpers.
"come on, mama, let it out," you groan, giving her permission. "want you to feel good. let it out."
she lets out a string of rushed thank yous before her stomach muscles completely tighten as she cums, unable to control the loud whines that leave her mouth as she does. you follow closely behind, allowing the sensation of her cock pushing against your cervix to wash over you.
after what feels like an entire minute, the two of you come down from your highs, a light sheen of sweat highlighting your skin. abby has her head lolled back and is trying to catch her breath, her limbs like jelly after how intensely she came. you suck kisses on her exposed neck while she calms down.
"holy shit," she gasps.
"who would've thought abby anderson could get so whiny?" you tease.
"i just wanted my hands back! god, you're evil."
"i love you, too," you grin.
dom turning into a sub because of desperation kink go brrrrrrrrrr
reblog if you think murder is bad and that children shouldn’t die
also ignore how these tags are it's the only way i could make sure all of them work. little tip to writers: after about an hour of trying ive figured out that only 5 tags can be in one line. every five people you tag, you gotta indent and start a new line. couldve saved me a lot of time ☺️
@abbysbug @victoria9687 @abbys-gay @serevena @r0binbuckleyswife
@moonalumi @atyourmerci @grey-jedi12 @andersonsprincess @bookpagecandlescent
@lilsmartiepants @tohoko @sevenneves @prettyinpinkcat @slagmagnet9000
@msmsmsms8 @thyjinji @lesbian-useless @cattjull @itzkimi
@h00d-tr4sh @abby-anderson-wifey @abbyshands @llllbtrz @thyjinji
@idkwhattoputherelol @she-canyon @ellieisheretoo @mxlti-fand0m-imaginess @picklesarenice69
#mystellenia 𐑂°‧₊#tlou abby#abby anderson#abby tlou#abby x reader#abby anderson smut#abby anderson tlou2#abby anderson x female reader#abby anderson x reader#abby anderson x you#abby smut#abby the last of us#abby x fem!reader#abby x you#abby#abby x y/n#abby x black reader#tlou#the last of us
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three's a crowd! ↠ day 21 ; spitroasting
↠ roronoa zoro x reader x vinsmoke sanji
fandom: one piece word count: 2.1k warnings: nsfw 18+, caught in the act, jealous!zoro, possessiveness, spanking, praise, blowjob, face fucking, gagging, fingering, rough sex, unprotected sex, squirting, overstimulation, cum marking, cum eating, creampie, aftercare, some unintentional homoerotic subtext if you squint
kinktober m.list || read on ao3
Grunts and skin slapping together are the only sounds in the room as Zoro fucks into you from behind.
Your arrangement with him was as simple as it could be, whenever the two of you were stressed, and whenever the other crew members were occupied, you would fuck. It was a lot easier than trying to pick up strangers from whatever bar you could find everytime you guys docked at a new town. The last time that happened, you may or may not have brought back someone that had a hidden vendetta against Luffy, and it resulted in yet another fight aboard the Going Merry.
Oh well. Mistakes happen.
You moan into the pillow beneath you, doing your best to conceal your sounds of pleasure. You were in Zoro’s bed, as all of the crew were out exploring the newest town
Despite that fact, it never hurts to be too careful.
And indeed, you were right. Because not even a minute later, you hear the door to the men’s quarters open and you gasp in surprise. You involuntarily clench around Zoro, making him hiss as you both turn to see who walked in.
Sanji stands in the doorway, jaw dropped and suit jacket halfway off his body.
Zoro turns to maneuver the bed sheets in a way that covers your body from Sanji’s eyes. You could tell that the cook was staring at you, just by the way his eyes completely avoid your gaze and he looks upward as a blush rises to his cheeks. He looks cuter than ever in that moment, and maybe it's because you have a dick inside of you at that very moment, but you desperately want to fuck him to see what other reactions you can get out of him.
“The fuck are you looking at?” Zoro growls out. The hand that was splayed across your hip tightens in anger the longer Sanji stands there. “Fucking scram.”
You could tell by his initial embarrassment that Sanji was planning on leaving, but Zoro’s reaction has him heated up, and you know that neither of them will let the other have the last word.
You roll your eyes and get settled in, waiting for the argument to begin.
Sanji tsks at Zoro, crossing his arms and shaking his head. “Putting her in such a degrading position like that, it’s a wonder she stays with you.”
“She stays with me ‘cause I fuck her right every time. Not like she’d have the same experience with you.”
“I’ll have you know that I’ve never gotten a single complaint about my performance in the bedroom!”
“Yeah, right. Like she’d ever go for you when she has me here.”
“A-actually,” you speak up for the first time during their spat. Both men turn to you, Sanji with a glimmer of hope in his eyes, and Zoro, who’s glare seems to scream don’t you dare, as if he knew exactly what you were going to suggest.
“Sanji,” you swallow, hoping you’re not making a mistake, “you should join us.”
“Join—?” He chokes on his spit, and you can see the way his cheeks turn red from his blush.
“Please?” you put on a classic pout that you know will make Sanji weak in the knees.
Hook, line, and sinker.
He scratches the back of his neck, feigning concession. But you can see the tent in his pants that is clear as day. “If you insist, madam.”
“Madam,” Zoro mutters from behind you, mocking Sanji’s choice of word. You kick at the back of his leg in warning.
Sanji approaches you in the front of the bed (staying as far away from Zoro as possible, you notice) and stares at you hesitantly. You motion him closer, and begin palming his erection through his pants. He moans softly, his hips subtly bucking into your touch.
Zoro, having enough of your attention pulled away from him, begins to thrust back into you from behind. The sudden movement has you moaning, and the force of it pushes you right into Sanji’s crotch.
The ship’s cook grabs your hair by the root and keeps you in place with one hand as he uses his other to undo his pants and free his cock from its constraints. His hard erection springs out, hitting you in the face, and without any prompting you stick it in your mouth, sucking on it furiously.
You bob your head up and down, swallowing him all the way down to the root. You swirl your tongue around the head, and Sanji’s grip in your hair tightens as he groans from the sensation.
“Better not make any noises over there, cook,” Zoro says. “I was planning on finishing.”
Sanji’s response comes back within a second. “I can’t help it when your woman is giving all her attention to me.”
You don’t even need to be looking at Zoro to know what his reaction is to that—you can just picture the glare that he gives Sanji as he slaps your ass and ruts his hips into you more.
The force of his cock filling you to the brim has you moaning around Sanji’s cock as your eyes roll into the back of your head. Your hands grip the sheets below you as you make a feeble attempt to stabilize yourself as you lay helpless between the two men who use your body for their pleasure.
Zoro does his best to ignore Sanji and occupies himself with grabbing the flesh of your ass and spreading you open wider than before. He bullies his cock deep inside of you, and the bulbous head reaches parts of you that have your vision going blurry and your mind going numb, only able to focus on how much he fills you up.
“You see this?” Zoro motions to you, and the way your body shakes in pleasure from his cock thrusting deep with you. “This is all ‘cause of me. You couldn’t make her feel even half as good.”
As you look up at Sanji through your teary vision, you can see the way his eyes narrow at Zoro’s fighting words. Suddenly your nose is pressed up against Sanji’s pubic bone, his cock stuffed all the way down your throat, you cough and gag around him, spit dribbling down the sides of your mouth yet he doesn’t relent.
He has one hand entangled in your hair at the scalp, and the other moves to wrap itself around your neck, gripping it lightly, feeling the imprint of his cock on your throat as he fucks it in and our of your mouth.
You moan around him, relishing in the sensation of fullness that you’re getting inside of you from both ends. Your hands move to grasp onto Sanji’s thighs and you suck down as much as you can on his cock, gagging as his cock reaches as far as it could possibly go within your mouth. Tears start to stream down your face now at the way he pounds himself all the way to the back of your throat.
Sanji looks down at your reaction, and then up at Zoro with his trademark smirk. “Seems like she’s too occupied enjoying my cock down her throat.”
Both men are relentless in trying to prove themselves, and you’re on the receiving end of it. It seems as though you’re never going to catch a break between the two of them. They constantly try and one up each other, with each new action or technique they try on you has you edging closer and closer to your eventual orgasm.
The final straw is when Zoro, through his relentless ruts into you, begins to stick his thick fingers inside of your pussy as well, curling them up in the perfect spots where he knows you’ll fall apart.
And you do. You attempt to pull a hand back and slap him against his arm to warn him or your incoming orgasm, but Sanji’s grip in your hair remains as solid as ever and you don’t have enough strength to pull yourself back.
Your arms flop to your side, weak and useless, the two men being the only things holding your body up now. Your screams of pleasure are muted around Sanji’s cock, but the vibrations from it have him groaning nonetheless.
Your orgasm comes like a colossal wave, crashing down onto you with so much pain and pleasure it becomes too overwhelming to bear. Your whole body goes rigid as you climax. Your pussy clenches like a vice around Zoro’s cock, and your mouth tightens around Sanji. The two men groan in unison as your release washes over you, squirting juices all over yourself and Zoro, who you can hear laughing (and probably mocking Sanji) from behind you.
Neither man lets you rest after your orgasm, though. They both continue to fuck you with intense vigor, as if it’s their dying wishes. It’s Sanji who finally folds first and cums, doing so by holding you by your hair as he smashes your face all the way to the base of his cock. His groans are loud and continuous as you suck down on him furiously, swallowing the jets of cum that shoot out of him.
A mix of your saliva and his cum leave the sides of your mouth as you do so, causing you to make a mess of his cock, slobbering all over it as he guides your head up and down.
“Fuck, so good for me,” he mutters out with his jaw clenched, just loud enough for you to hear, and you preen under the praise.
After he’s done cumming, you open your mouth wide and stick out your tongue for Sanji, showing him your empty mouth from swallowing all of him. And you’re glad you did so, because based on his lovesick expression alone it looked like he was about to cream himself for a second time that night.
Zoro cums soon after, his cock throbbing harshly as he buries himself to the hilt deep inside your pussy. He tends to be quiet when he cums, save for a few grunts here and there as the jets of hot liquid pour into you. But this time, you can hear him uttering praises to you.
“That’s it baby,” is what you hear the clearest through his groans, his voice gravely and deep. “Fuck, squeezing me so tightly. Could die in this pussy.”
If you literally didn’t just have your orgasm a second ago, you probably would have cum again right then and there.
Zoro always came inside of you whenever you two fucked, insisting on going bare. You never minded it; it felt better without a condom on, anyways. But you always knew that the reason why Zoro truly did it was because he loved marking you with his cum, seeing it drip outside of your pussy whenever he finished.
The swordsman reluctantly leaves your pussy after he cums. He watches the way the excess liquid seeps outside of your pussy, which still clenches around nothing, desperately looking for his cock again. He scoops it up with his fingers, pushing it back inside of you and barks out a laugh at the way you moan pathetically and your pussy walls quiver as they constrict around the shape of him.
He takes some of the excess left on his fingers and wipes it across your ass, rubbing it into your skin.
It takes you a couple of moments for you to finally open your eyes and register your surroundings after all of that. Zoro is wiping you with a wet cloth, and you see Sanji coming back in with a glass of water and a snack he no doubt whipped up quickly, then and there.
Once you’re finally calmed down from the overstimulation and cleaned off from all of the stickiness, you roll back into Zoro’s bed with a sigh collapsing from the exhaustion. Zoro moves in next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and rubbing circles into your skin.
Sanji glances at the two of you. “Room for one more?” he asks cheekily.
Zoro glares at Sanji and his arm tightens around you. “Fuck no. Piss off.”
He closes his eyes, and within seconds he’s snoring away, dead to the world.
You look over at Sanji and roll your eyes at Zoro’s words. Silently, you scootch over in the bed, making some room for him. You motion with your hand for him to climb in, and he does so gladly, nestling himself into your body. With Zoro’s arm around you and your face resting in the crook of Sanji’s neck, you’re able to fall asleep quickly and peacefully sandwiched between your two favorite boys, not having a single care in the world.
#kinktober#kinktober 2023#zoro x reader x sanji#roronoa zoro x reader#vinsmoke sanji x reader#roronoa zoro smut#vinsmoke sanji smut#zoro x reader#zoro smut#sanji x reader#sanji smut#opla x reader#opla smut#opla zoro x reader#opla sanji x reader#opla zoro smut#opla sanji smut#one piece x reader#one piece smut
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CALLA
m reader x chaeryeong // 7k words
“You’re gonna be late,” says Chaeryeong, carelessly kicking her feet up in the air off the kitchen counter. “I told you to set your alarm last night after we uh- yeah, then look what happens.”
She’s not wrong here, honestly. You are going to be late. And it isn’t helping your case when the stolen dress shirt from your closet is being worn by her, staring shamelessly at you with an apple slice in her mouth as you’re cleaning the sink.
But here you are making things worse, giving in to the sultry grin that Chaeryeong gives when your arms are wrapped around her waist, crumpling up the perfectly ironed piece of cloth when her hands snake up to the nape of your neck, and upwards. “Can’t you just like- call off today?” she asks, carding her fingers deep into the back of your head, massaging, “It’s always so boring here when you’re gone.”
Your forehead bumps hers, and some of that bedroom hair starts to pool over her right collarbone, compensating for the increasing tilt of your head as the tips of your noses brush together as a small tease as you retreat with Chaeryeong leaning forward to chase that wanting kiss.
“As much as I want to,” you’re telling her, swooping back in for a quick peck across her cheek. “I can’t. Besides, I called off that other time to stay here with you.”
Chaeryeong pouts, eyes fixed on your face as she pulls the upper part of your shirt just underneath the collar, revealing. You take into account the scattered marks of cherry fading across her chest and neck, remnants from a list of preferences she loves you to indulge in: her lips, her breasts - especially when she’s bent over or pressed into the mattress with the end of your cock being the closer.
“I know that look.” You dip your head down at the familiar sight, hands scooching her to the edge of the counter as you feel her ankles hook your backside loosely. “The guilt trip isn’t gonna work on me today honey, sorry.”
Chaeryeong rolls her eyes at that, and blinks. She has this kind of tendency no matter what given situation it may be, for her to let the eyes lock onto something over your shoulder or let the mind just wander. It’s only for a few seconds and nothing more than that, but with the way that her fingers curl around your neck again, darting her eyes back towards you, signaling to something.
“Not letting me go, are you?” You prompt.
“Are you sure you can’t call off again?” Chaeryeong reels you in with the pull of her knees, smiling at the dry laugh leaving your lips. “Please? For me?”
So you lower your guard, tip your head downwards to get those first tastes of her lips. She tastes like coffee, and you’re probably sure that there’s a little bit of ketchup stuck on the outer room of her bottom lip.
You’ll be partial to the playfulness that Chaeryeong exerts, the seemingless gravity that makes everyday worth treading through. If you roll your eyes at her, she’ll do the same thing, because that’s the kind of person that Chaeyeyong is: someone who gets what she wants, even when the common denominator of all things is you.
She’s an easy person to let by. Frankly, you’re quite the opposite.
You like when she has a little bit of an attitude towards you, riling her up and pressing all the right buttons with all this teasing and the usual back and forth banter that ends up with a flying hand to a shoulder or face, but you love when she does that - consider it to be a hidden charm.
“Not today, princess,” you finally answer, a finger treating the corner of your lip as you quickly glance at Chaeryeong wetting her lips some more leaning again but you’re pulling back just a bit just to get the funny little shake she does with her arms when she’s being messed with. “As much as I love to, I’ve got some stuff to be done today.”
“Like what?” Chaeryeong asks, using her hands to shake your waist in place, kind of like a little kid throwing a tantrum in the middle of the grocery store, her whining tone a further emphasis. “If you don’t go in, then-”
“My manager would be on my ass,” you answer for one. “Plus, our project would be pushed back a bit. Worst case scenario: I could get fired since this is the third time in the past two weeks where I had to call off.”
“That won’t happen.”
“You’re right, but I could lose my job if we keep this up. We would lose one of our primary sources of income. Bills won’t be paid, no groceries - imagine the house goes too, now that would be tragic.”
Chaeryeong listens dutifully, but her grip is still somewhat tight on you.
“Is that enough to sway you, my dear?” you ask, thumbs massaging the back of her (your) dress shirt that she’s practically swimming in all of it’s unbuttoned glory. And Chaeryeong here leans her head towards the bridge of her left collarbone, retreating a hand back firmly onto the counter. That same side also opened up a bit to where you could see more of her exposed chest right down the middle. Her thoughts are in order, and her right hand is sending the clear message.
She’s not letting go.
“Tempting,” is what she gives, her voice a bit off, not exactly defeated nor depressed, but firm. She’s pulling you in the more she leans back, flashing those pleading eyes with the hint of lust hidden beneath them. “I guess you can be on time for once.”
Well, fuck it. What’s one more earful from your boss later today when you come in?
Whether or not it’s your fault or Chaeryeong’s will be decided sometime later, but it doesn’t take any more of an ounce in your mind when her arms wrap around the broad shape of your back, feeling the heat of her cheeks grow with every passing second as you’re picking up on the familiar rhythms and movements from last night’s escapades. Through all the hot, slick mouths to the consuming presses of your faces against each other, you’re doubling down your efforts when you lay her across the marble as she tugs your hair gently.
Chaeryeong gets a single leg wrapped around your waist as she shimmies herself down a bit to where the tent of your pants is, the slight raise of her hips hoping to be satisfied with an early form of friction to get a feel of the real thing following the next couple of minutes. You pull back with an audible smack off of her small, plump lips. “Figured you changed your mind?” She asks, and the lazy smirk she pulls is nothing short of playing calm and collected as you snake a hand beneath the dress shirt, feeling up the cold skin since the lack of layers is playing to her disadvantage. “That look in your eyes says ‘yes’ to me.”
“You’re not really offering me much choice here,” you’re saying, thumb grazing the curve of her underboob. Chaeryeong never likes wearing clothes in the morning unless it's just her underwear. Today was certainly no exception.
The more you sink your body onto Chaeryeong’s, the more you’re starting to become more familiar with the sloping curves and lines of her body that your fingers glide over - she’s tightening the noose that’s formed within her arms, slithering along with the additional pull of her ankle pressed into the posterior of your thigh.
It’s the question she asks so innocently, even when her actions don’t really speak for her words:
“I’m always offering you a choice here, babe.” You consider that to every avenue possible, even when you’re bent over the kitchen counter with your girlfriend under you, and she isn’t wrong in this case either. There’s always a choice for you to hide away from the rest of the world with her without having repercussions. There’s always a choice to follow when you’re making her cum over and over and over until the eventual trade off happens in emptying yourself, heaving and exhausted only for the cycle to repeat again not long after. “You just have to think critically here.”
“Which I am,” you’re telling her, a stray finger sweeping the strand of hair stuck to the side of her cheek, meticulously tracing every fine detail along the line of her profile, studying and admiring the beauty right in front of your eyes, where the appearance is all natural and without the added effects of lighting and makeup.
It isn’t any different, this gaze you’re bearing. Call it straight out of a romantic movie, the way that you wait at the bottom steps of Chaeryeong’s office building, waiting for her to get out at approximately five o’clock every day of the week and when she does get out, the glint in your eyes and pretty much everything around just seems to bright up instantly as she gracefully makes her way down like that typical Cinderella story, expect that both of her heels stay on throughout the whole time, but you’d love to put the heel back with it’s rightful owner if it came to that. A fairytale story imitated in real life. You would love to be stuck in that little world with her no matter where it takes you, exploring and sharing the new experiences because she’ll be there right at your side.
But if it’s during the late nights or mornings like these, it usually entails a different story entirely.
Chaeryeong knows what she’s doing at times when you’re up late writing reports or getting those late night reads. You know what she does to you in the mornings especially after a night out with her limbs bundled up all over you beneath the sheets - the eventual mixup culminated after you’ve rucked your fingers deep into her hair, her skin, until she’s a whimpering and whining mess in the dim lights, muscles having a mind and memory of their own in making her feel good. All of this was led from the subtitles advances, the taunts, the hushed whispers of what she would do to you or vice versa.
The wavelength is well connected, you’re still looking deep past those whisky irises of hers, a shimmering sparkle lying beneath as she pulls a lazy smile at the corner of her lip.
“Wanna know what I’m thinking about right now? You ask, pressing your head across the underside of Chaeryeong’s jaw and at the top of her neck. As if it were second nature or just practiced, she inhales deep, arches her back up and away from the counter, giving leeway for your arms as she grasps you close. Closer. As if she’ll melt right into your skin then and there. She’ll want more of you. The touches, the kisses, just anything of substance that makes her feel amazing. Your nose gets filled up with that sea breeze scent from her shampoo the other night, nuzzling at the tilt of her chin when you’re saying, “Forget about work, it’s just you, you, you. It’s all about you.”
“That’s flattering,” Chaeryeong says, moving her head when your lips continue to canvas across the slender column of her neck, leaving her with these quick gasps as her body shivers beneath the dress shirt. “You’re like- so crazy about me. It’s a bit concerning, but when you’re equally insane as me-”
“Chaery,” you say, and even with the low timbre your voice is presented with, it does something to her head, the way her eyes flutter at her own name. The sigh she lets out is heavenly. “You don’t have to tell me. I know.”
And here you catch wind of Chaeryeong doubling back on the defensive, her face flushed as her eyes are fixated on your face again, the breathing suddenly getting irregular but only for just a second - her position is rapidly deteriorating when she averts her gaze away from yours, like she wasn’t the one who swiped your dress shirt for her to put on while you were in the shower, the way she sat so leisurely on the kitchen counter as you wrap up breakfast, and the fact that she got on top of you before you even did all that, fluttering her pussy lips across your growing cock in the hope that you’d give her a quickie.
But here she is, splayed across beneath you. It didn’t matter whether it’d be on the couch, the floor, the bathroom floor, the mattress; anywhere you go, there’s a certain hierarchy to be followed. “God, you’re so effortless with it. You-”
You’re shaking your head here, the air leaving your nostrils hitting right above her lips as you slide your right hand down her waist starts this little aftershock effect of shuddering when your fingertips start to dance along the lacy elastic of her panties, her legs moving with unease as she’s anticipating the inevitable creaming and jutting her hips for more. She hates the teasing to an extent, but knows that you’ll play into her game before she lets you have free reign. “Keep telling me what I want to hear, babe. It’s okay.”
Chaeryeong however, when the right moment matters the most, doesn’t say anything. The only thing coming out of her mouth is another moan when you’ve got a handful of her ass on your palm, pressing your lips and nose deeper into her neck again. Your weight is pressing deeper to the lower half of her body as she manages to get her other leg wrapped around your waist as her lips capture yours, pulling and biting the slick parts to get more out of you. The desperation. She wants it. She needs it. You could agree with the craving aspect all by itself.
“Not hearing anything from you,” you mutter as your lips slide across hers, dragging your hand in this perpendicular motion that catches her panties at the edge, moving it down as the cloth goes along with it. She’s still shifting about underneath, a bit erratic though it fits her so well. You don’t have to say an inkling of praise as to how good she looks when she doesn’t get what she wants. No point in telling because you’ll spread her legs apart and give exactly what she needs before she can even put in a proper request.
“Bitch,” Chaeryeong hisses, the line of her spine jagged in a weird formation as she tilts her head back, muscles tensing as the hooks of your arms really do their work as intended. “Don’t- Don’t do this shit with me. I know what you’re doing.”
Part of the dress shirt falls past her shoulder. Her chest opens up to you as your head goes a bit lower past her neck, letting the pale skin stretch below as the hand focusing on her panties reaches to her thighs. Almost on impulse, probably instinctually, her legs open up revealing the usual site of damage waiting to be bombarded on again, hips moving out of their own will as she keeps on fidgeting at your touch.
Normally you’d be off to work around this time, or hit the front door in the main lobby, but not today. “Doing what, exactly?” you reiterate, fingers grazing her inner thigh as the panties eventually get discarded from her legs with all the moving that she keeps on doing, the bottom of your wrist hitting her aching lips on accident (calculated, actually), “Cause from the looks of it, I’m not doing anything wrong here.” You can’t really help yourself in these types of situations: the teasing, being playful with all of the nonchalance of talking. The first pressure point was the cursing, and that’s already done. What follows with that first barrier cracking in front of your eyes would be all of the swearing and the lovely pleads of her begging - giving it to her like she deserves, in the arched backs, the press of her calf on the small of your back, her toes curling, fingers digging into the back of your head, letting her vocal cords sing as you’re filling every single bit of her fantasy of the kind of unfathomable sex that kind of feels a bit unrealistic; though it’s real, all of it. Like you’re good at reading all of the signs and lines that the body gives without any additional help at all. “I’m just getting you ready. Exactly in the way that you want.”
Boom. Bullseye. Chaeryeong knows all too well, and she’s yours. Her eyes roll back as the upper profile of her teeth catches her swollen bottom lip, because it’s a rinse and repeat of the countless times that you’ve fucked her over and over with your tongue, your lips, your cock. She’ll keep spilling out these praises and swears of you carrying her to bed, or dragging her at times, all of the good and bad things that she’ll late on forget when you’re burying her into the mattress or letting her ride you out in the open air. You’ll be her enemy, and she’ll be yours. But here’s the thing: it cuts both ways.
She gets a nail or two into your nape, a bit too deep, another mark of dishonor. The growl rumbling in your throat finds its way into the upper profile of her chest, but the return of delight coming from Chaeryeong serves as the proper antithesis that cancels it out completely. “Look at you,” you drawl, “I can see the fucking glisten from up here.”
Chaeryeong manages to get an elbow up for stability, leaning back as you find the grooves to grip into her waist, holding the bottom of her thighs with your hips as they finally rest at the edge of the counter.
Your hand works behind the scenes as Chaeryeong keeps her lidded eyes up, just barely. “You-” Is a firm attempt for her to reply to your remark, but when the root of your palm presses down onto her heat, she moves up on reflex, wanting that roughness in the lines to momentarily sate the growing want with every small shift. Her voice hides well under her loud breaths, and all she mumbles off of her lips is a very timid, “need.”
There’s a fair share of sights you’ll drink your eyes into for as long as you need. Oddly enough, the displeasure of making Chaeryeong wait, to whittle her down into nothing less than just impatience and desperation - it’s adorable, because this is payback for what she did to you the night before.
You remain stoic, unfazed. Her eyes keep focusing and unfocusing as her chin goes low, looking up.
“Gotta help me out here, love,” you adjust, swaying your head from side to side slowly as you ease up with another kiss or two, leaving nothing untouched with the soft presses until you figure enough is enough for the time being. “What is it that you need?”
She inhales deeply. Collecting her thoughts. Her favorite kind of truth serum: the neediness. “Need you to feel me.”
“Need me to fix you up,” you rephrase, allowing her a small victory when her arms pull you in again, the taste of your lips too addicting to ignore, holding her close at the waist that makes her stop abruptly. “Make you cum so hard that you’re aching for more.”
The nods she makes are frantic, and you can see the lump in her throat roll downwards as she leans up for another quick kiss to your chin.
“Please baby.” Chaeryeong’s drawing another sharp inhale into her chest when you pick her up off the counter, sitting her upright. Some of her hair catches your cheek, just by a few strands, but she takes this opportunity to recount and compose herself. “For me.”
“You’re pretty,” you huff into her ear and she hums this nice tone against her throat when you’ve slid her right at the edge of the counter, easing up the tension in her body when you flip your fingertips at the growing warmth between her legs. She does the easy part all by herself when she slips out of the dress shirt even more, the bottom part of the cloth rumpling across the smooth surface behind her. “I’ll give you exactly what you need.”
She’s nodding against your ear, you’re smiling deep into her hair. This is the best way to start the morning.
When the two pads of your fingertips make that first dip into her cunt, she’s clutching onto you like her life depends on it. Like the shackles of every chain of common sense she had left finally severed. She hisses again, you realize how wet she’s really gotten, the ruts she continues on doing only makes that craving even more deserving to satisfy.
The quick murmur of a ‘fuck’ doesn’t go unoticed when you’re calculating every move your finger makes as it inches further down the soaking trenches of her cunt. It’s all in the right amounts of pressure, the curls, inching deeper and deeper to elicit these beautiful hymns of pleasure infecting your ears. She’s spreading herself winder, mirroring the stretch of her pussy lips when you finally give her that fill that she’s been wanting all morning. You’ve got all three knuckles up inside her, each move makes her pussy gush around your fingers as you pick up the pace a bit.
Chaeryeong isn’t one to just sit and let anyone do the work for her. She equally wants the effort just as much as you, rolling her hips into your hand as you’re dividing and conquering her body with another fast shower of kisses across her neck and chest. In the ‘ahh’s’ and ‘mmm’s’ and ‘mhm’s’ brings her closer to the edge that she oh so yearns for. Only you can pull it off and out of her in record time.
Her fingers keep traversing into your hair, until you’ve got her in that lecherous spot to where her head shoots back in a momentary shock and buries her chin into the crater where your collarbone is as you can picture the crinkle in her eyebrows. She coos when she feels the ends of your teeth nibble over her neck, adding onto the catalog of bruises from the night prior and where the concealer will have to work a little bit harder when she goes out later in the week.
And you curl your fingers right before the opening, and the thumb on her clit throws itself into the mix. A pinch happens somewhere here too. You’re closing in on the staggered breathing that steadies itself as the wetness starts to seep into your hand. She knows she’s close, and you know her better than anyone when she finally reaches the first layer of her orgasm, holding her at the rim of her ass as the bottoms of her thighs slide across the counter.
“Shh, I’ve got you,” you’re whispering amidst the sucking gasps of her rapture. Her head faces up towards the ceiling, her eyes roll back before they’re fading behind her eyelids. “Some wiggle room as you’re cumming. Thank me later.”
Chaeryeong keeps her lower half moving as she manages to pull your head back so that you can make eye contact with her. Those fucking eyes. The mocha shade of them focusing and unfocusing as her jaw slackens, the shade in her cheeks flushed as you’re grinning of her sought-after reward. You’re pretty sure that she’s mouthing a ‘thank you’, but the whines fill in as the harmonious sound to which you nod at how proud you are of your own handiwork.
She’s riding herself without a single care in the world, chest heaving so high and low deep as the heat’s already spread out to every part in her body.
When you do eventually draw your fingers back from her pussy, there’s a slight coat covering them as you take the time to indulge with your tongue all over them, making her watch as you’re wiping the mess off of your lips. You’re evil, but not that evil. You give her the good grace of making Chaeryeong taste herself, lips and tongue quick to pick up on the spots where you didn’t treat on purpose, watching as she sucks and licks her own slick off that brings a familiar image to foreshadow. The mess. The sloppiness of her. She’s perfect.
You stare for a little too long as she comes down from that deserved high. Her tongue wetting her lips from the aftertaste. She leans back a bit, watches you breathe out the exhaustion as a twinkle shines in her eyes - another spark - gets both hands on the rim of the counter and lets herself down. She’s a few inches shorter than you. Her forehead right at the end of your chin, and here she looks up. It’s like this optical illusion, how she starts to shrink right in front of your eyes.
She sinks down slowly, dropping to her knees, hands at the front of your pants, pulling them.
You can’t let her have a head start, so you don’t even think twice about what she wants next.
It all comes in a black flash. A spring forward in time. She’s on her knees with a finger wrapped around the base of your cock, tongue sweeping the underside as she works her way up the shaft, the heat and slickness of her mouth leaving a trail of her until she’s at the end of it.
“Chaery,” you hiss, eyes fixated at the sight of her pouty lips lathering up your cock in her spit, watching as she gently bobs her way down the line, slurping and hollowing her cheeks to her heart’s content. “Fuck- fucking hell. God-”
A pull back with the graze of her teeth is one thing. The swirling tip of her tongue over the head of your cock is another. Then there’s the effortless dive all the way down at the base. She’s unbridled to do whatever she wants to you, and you would be okay with that. The look up with those doe eyes of hers - and the fucking cross-eyed expression with them does something to your neurons.
She puts most of her hair behind her head while you rest your hand on top, burying your fingers in them. Chaeryeong hums as you test the first thrust of your hips slowly into the choking heat of your mouth. Bit by bit, she takes every inch of you with ease.
You’ll get your face between her legs, it’s already happened.
You’ll get your cock deep into the hollow of her throat, it’s happening right now.
Fuck, and when you pull out to smack the head of your cock across her lips before you see her eyes go wide to that repeated deepthroat motion, she’ll take it well and you’re sure of it.
Doesn’t change the impending outcome whatsoever: you’re still going to be late.
You’re surprised at how the dress shirt has managed to stay on Chaeryeong’s body this entire time, hitting the back of her mouth with obscene precision. She’s giving you this sort of payback when her hands hook to the back of your thighs; they go a bit higher to rest on your ass as she relaxes her throat, resting your cock into the cyclonic heat in every passing stroke.
She gags a bit for a second, the puff of her cheeks letting you know that the choke is a positive implication, and you gasp in surprise.
Her heavenly locks are even messier than they were before, when you’re pumping yourself into her mouth, holding her still to prolong the amazing feeling she has over your cock. The sounds she makes happened the morning before when your body decided to have a mind of its own, in response of the cold air to which Chaeryeong accepted the gift wholeheartedly: fucking her mouth until you’ve got your cum spilling out the corners of her mouth and a few spurts painting her cheek soon after - it isn’t any different here.
You could cum right here, right now, and she’d be happy with the result.
But when her eyes drop low, dead in the water, hazy, the puff up of your chest prepares you for the worst.
She hums. Her mouth slips across your hard length slowly, meticulously. The little notion of control takes over when she drags her lips across the sensitive surface with so much care - so much detail, the grip you have in her hair only makes it much more excruciatingly difficult to keep yourself upright, in the buckling of your knees every few other seconds. You’re not simple to take on, and where she’s gargling all over the length, she diverts some of her attention to your balls soon after, nails lighty dragging across the ridges as you nudge down deeper into the opening inside.
“Umgph,” she finally says when nothing is said except for the leaking gags coming out of her throat, and you’re starting to feel a tad bit dizzier.
You drag yourself out, pull a bit too hard where the roots of her hair are tangled along with your fingers, and she looks up, a third of your cock sticks out to the inside of her cheek, then her eyes roll back. The hollow she does with her cheeks, the suction- the fucking suction.
“Jesus girl,” you taunt, almost defensively. “Fuck. Love it when you do that.”
“Mmph,” she hums, nodding with your tip captured between her lips still. She does a few additional bobs as the clutch of your fingers starts to loosen over her head, slipping, retreats a second later. “Was that enough to convince you to stay?”
The way that you bend yourself down, reach to her level. Her fingers slide over your wrists while your hands get her face in between them, pulling the old bag of tricks and kisses - pulling and biting and sucking off the slop, melding every little part of her towards you. Everything starts to fade out from the outside, as if you’re sinking down deeper into the never ending abyss that’s Chaeryeong.
Except, she’s the one who pulls away first - not you. The irregular breathing returns after a short stint away, hot and haphazardly, rising up from the floor with a hand quickly wrapped around your cock still. “Maybe you need a little bit more persuading.”
“I’m all ears,” you tell her, willingly.
“Really? Okay then. Couch.”
Your cock is tethered between her fingers, following along to the hypnotic fashion in the movement of her hips. She’s gliding along the hardwood floors on the balls of her feet, humming along shamelessly until you find yourself in a usual territory, just a few steps away from the first battleground. Chaeryeong doesn’t let up with the racking of your brain when she twirls around and captures your lips with hers, her hand languidly sliding along your slick cock that shuffles an influx of these scattered breaths to where she’s smiling into your parted lips. Though, she pushes you onto the cushions of the couch, straddling you as she cradles the back of your head so gently, to where you’re looking up and the only things you can feel are the stray strands in her hair brushing along the side of your face as your lips are under attack again.
But your hands have their own ideas in mind, acting as an additional weight to her hips, your cock twitching when the outer rim of her puffy pussy lips, making your lips and hers buck on impulse from the contact, chuckling at the twitch.
“I think teasing you would be better,” she suggests, finally letting herself rest on top of you, the wetness staining the underside of your length, gasping a bit when she realizes that the growth of your cock actually feels a bit thicker than usual. “Wow babe, oh- god. Did you-”
“Could say that I’m properly convinced,” you sigh, dropping your head back when she slides up a tad bit- jesus.
And Chaeryeong nods at the resolve, leaning her head to the left as she manages to get a hand underneath your chin, hips moving dangerously slow on purpose. This can be an agenda of sorts, the usual wake-up routine that you would have no problem in following. Until one of you wants to tear the page to start something anew; you could have the ending of digging your cock deep into her until she’s shaking her head for more.
“Had I done enough already?” she then asks, the drag of her lips past the corner of your mouth, her breath enchanting enough for you to pass out figuratively.
“I’m passive to changing my mind. But seriously, Chaery, your fucking hips-”
She hums and nods, grinding down your cock a bit more harshly. Anything that she does would be enough to make you snap.
“Don’t think too hard about this.” Chaeryeong grins, her soft chuckle in the open space between your lips and hers. It’s a brief moment of embrace - the intimacy - something that happens effortlessly without even the move of a muscle or nerve. You kiss her again, trying to do everything in your power to not give a shrivel of attention in the way that she grinds her pussy over your cock. A tongue gets swept across your lower lip, followed by another sharp inhale; she’s happily skating along your length, makes your eyes drop low, and your head feels dizzy. Only when she pulls away, brushes the tip of her nose against yours, biting her lip down and breathing, “I’m gonna put it in now, okay?”
Your only logical choice here is to look up, watch Chaeryeong’s face as she licks her fingers, runs them through her folds a few times, grabbing your cock carefully and runs your tip across the first waves of heat, sponging up the soakage as she lets herself down; she slides down to a third - right above the halfway point, and sinks soon after.
Her cunt molds around your cock perfectly. At the mere fit of her, your lower half twitches in response. She rests for a second as her eyelids drop from above, frozen. You’re positive that you can’t move either; neither of you want to, because everything pretty much made sense in the moment alone, making you forget about everything else.
“Slow,” you’re telling her, thumbs resting at the creases of her hip. “Slow.” The anchor of your hands to her impossibly small waist guides her in the same motion she was doing a few minutes ago, gyrating her pussy down to the base of your cock. And then she rises, drops her ass onto your balls and the rebound transfers over to your thighs. “Yeah, right there. Good girl.”
Chaeryeong does the same motion again, and slams her ass down. She repeats it, and the second time you’re thrusting up a bit to reduce the impact, but the weight on top of you becomes a bit unbearable, and you’re filling the crater of the cushion once more. You’re going to be fucked, the same can be said for her too; it’s a competition as to who can reach their edge first, or at the very least, who can get so needy for their own release that all bets are thrown off the table and one of you will just fuck the other into oblivion.
“Every fucking time,” she curses, her body almost levitating over your hips at this point. You’re biting down the groan ripping between your vocal cords, each one more aggressive than the last. That’s what she’s working towards - to break you both mentally and physically - bringing out that side of you that’s mere putty one second, make the complete one-eighty to flip her over and make her suffocate through the cushions. You can feel it in the audible slaps her legs sound against yours, the drag of her unbelievably tight pussy piloting the usual aches back to the forefront, unraveling the slack as you struggle to keep it altogether. “Ugh. Amazing.”
“Chaeryeong,” you sputter out, and this in one of the few rare instances where you’re saying her name properly, and the sight above is always something to get lost into; her head falls forward, shielding the sly smirk and whimpering whines leaking out of her lips. She throws her head back when you’re yanking her back down onto your throbbing length - a test run, an assessment. The way that she fits all around you is second to none, the smoothness and intuition to double down serves as a dangerous addiction that you see yourself relapsing in no time flat. “Hold yourself down here, close to me. Bounce on my fucking cock - shit, just like that.”
She nods, her upper half finding a hold as she lets the other do it’s thing, moaning mindlessly and all of the good things about how your cock fills her up so easily. The desperation, the hint of panic, that natural instinct of wanting to be fucked, drench your cock with her slick any chance she can get like right now. Her huffs are starting to pick up in pitch as your hands play second fiddle of driving yourself into her as deep as you can get it, and you start to feel your eyelids drooping while the sounds of her thighs start to fade out between your ears. Keeping it together here was never the option. And she holds herself down at the hilt, grinds a bit once you’ve bottomed her out, gyrating your embedded cock as the press of your fingers starts transforming into this claw-like grip.
Innovative as she is, Chaeryeong moves her legs a bit, plants her feet onto the seat of the couch. Your hands find their way to the underside of her thighs, raising up the intensity with the same motion as before.
“S’that feel good, baby?” She asks sweetly, innocently. “Your fucking cock feels so good. I could live like this if I wanted to.
You’ve reduced yourself to nods. There’s nothing left to be said, this indescribable feeling.
“I’m gonna fuck you now, okay?” The assurance is cute, but with her pretty little body in the form that it is, the flushed face and heaving coming out of her chest almost undermines the appearance entirely.
So you’re back to the drawing board. Square one. Chaeryeong is an endless bundle of lust when she squats down on your cock again, doing exactly as she said. She’s fucking you relentlessly as the entire frame of her body plays victim to the aftershocks of your cock and hips; the crash sending a ripple effect of her ass, her thighs, her tits, all shaking up in different paces of motion, and the feeling is the same result every time.
Everything starts to stir within your body, nearing that eventual end that you and her have been working towards, breaking her body down in endless spires of nerves, right until the very second where she’s clenching around your cock, cumming on your waist. She’s holding herself down to you again, hips moving in this counter-clockwise motion, hoping to reduce the overbearing sensation when she’s peaking again, biting down her scream. It’s in the cinches of her face, the patchwork of scratches forming across your neck and shoulders, the signs of a pretty girl losing their mind over a good dick, wanting to have more like she depends on it.
“Look at you, baby,” you appraise, combing a handful of her hair as you keep up the stable pace of upward thrusts into her cunt. You know how this story goes - how it’ll be from here on out, where Chaeryeong can’t even come up with the right words on the tip of her tongue, when she’s all fucked out where she can’t even think straight, lets you take the reins away from her. It’s a bit of a facade when she’s holding your neck by the arms, the kind of hug in a reunion after for being away for so long, palms pressing down on the small of her back as you get yourself in the prime position to really fuck her in the way that she knows and likes. The inside of her knees squeeze the outer rim of your legs, holding herself in palace as you get the right angle to the degree, fuck her through and through until she’s screaming and cumming the absolute mess out her. “I’ve got you. I’ve always got you. Just relax. Let me.”
Chaeryeong sighs into your collarbone, resting her lips across the skin. You zero in on the imaginary line that you’ve created in your head, gliding into her tight hole. The sound of her slick getting louder and louder with every harsh thrust. There’s also a hint of care in the back of your mind: to not let her squirt over the cushions, since that’ll be another hassle to handle once all of this is over until the next round.
You’re pulling a lazy grin at the corner of your mouth again, and she takes notice, an airy laugh following soon after. Chaeryeong knows that look all too well. She lives to see that look each and every time - to shake your goodwill down and morphing it into mere impulses of her infectious lust, the rawness of which you’ll completely forget what you were doing minutes prior as you’re only fixated on pounding her cunt to where she’ll beg for more, wail when she hasn’t had enough, just a full on fledged mess. Just when she’s got a few scraps of sense back into her head, she pulls her head sideways, and a siren’s call passes her lips, “do it, want to feel all of you.”
Well, you’ll do just that. Chaeryeong’s body is one with yours, her hot breath flushing over your neck, peppering your cheek with kisses and huffing out these sorrowful gasps every stroke your cock does inside her, ripping apart every ounce of self control you have left to give. You’ll bask in the glorifying graces of her rapid cunt tearing your cock, the melting heat amidst the heaven that space between her thighs possesses - each passing movement more addictive as you’re pistoning your cock into her pussy - you’ll fuck her well, you’ll fuck her right. The clench she has on you is too strong, and it’s gotten so fucking simple for her to slide from the head of your cock to where your balls is at. She’ll ride you like there’s no tomorrow, and you would be fine with that.
Harder. Deeper. She whispers into your ear, gasping out more with utter desperation, the voice wracked with pure pleasure, though still stable above the constant slaps your balls and thighs make against her ass; the begging hasn’t stopped too, and she really just wants one thing here from you. She can easily tell that you’re at the edge, the muscles along your cock and around your waist are contracting and relaxing in all the right areas. “Fuck your cum into me, baby. I want it. I want it bad. This pussy is yours. Yours. Own it like you mean it, I want it right in my fucking stomach.”
‘Chae, fuck-” You bite down hard, drag your teeth against themselves. She’s fucking insane. Her pressure is too much on one point, actually on many points. Your mind and body are out of sync - everything all at once is too much to handle. You’ve got no control anymore. “-your pussy, feels wonderful.”
“I know, I know,” she coos, managing to get a thumb across your bottom lip, fingers sliding across your cheek, barely keeping it together from the high ground. Her eyes go cross again, jaw slack when your cock drives itself deep into her sopping socket. “Can feel you throbbing. Fuck me. Fuck my pretty little pussy.”
Your stomach collapses, and you manage to get a few more good thrusts in. “Chaer- god.”
She slams her ass back down as you hold her there, cumming into her cunt. The first few pulses are lethal, and you’re pretty sure you’re seeing white in your head.
“Shh, there we go.” Chaeryeong sighs, hushing you with a palm over your mouth, muffling out the listless groans and curses that are trapped deep within your lexicon. “Can feel your cum- oh my god, it’s so much.” She’s still clamped well around your cock, squeezing you dry and the lazy follow up thrusts wrings out the last savoring pulses of cum where you can get it. The throbbing hotness finally taking rest within her slick.
Though she doesn’t take herself off from you right away, and you’re not bothering the idea of pulling out, because she’s meant to stay where she’s at. Her hips continue to massage your cock inside of her as you’re doing your best to come down from your high. You and her mesh the heavy breathing, the exhaustion washing over you as the lustful aura starts to fade away.
Chaeryeong places her head right next to yours, lightly scratching the back of your head as she lazily looks up to the low hum of your phone vibrating on the kitchen counter.
“I think that’s your boss calling,” she tells you, placing a kiss to your temple, hips slowly grinding against yours to keep your focus on her, a foreshadow of what’s yet to come, “You should probably tell him that you’re coming in late.”
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