#thank you past me for giving up the seat on the plane. thank you past me for deciding to go apeshit and getting rcmh tickets
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I'm having a final destination moment with the Chicago concert. Or is that burnt toast theory...final destination implies it's still going to happen 😨
#intense stomach pain 👍#thank fuck i am in the safety and security of my bedroom with a bucket and not sweating in line for the show#this is. such a strange feeling.#thank you past me for giving up the seat on the plane. thank you past me for deciding to go apeshit and getting rcmh tickets#thank you for the free flight and the every credit card purchase i have made that's earned me points#is this a tad excessive? perhaps. but i am genuinely sweating over this incredibly close call.#holy fuck.
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the boy is mine (l.dh) — part one
PAIRING. haechan x fem!reader (also jeno x reader) GENRES. smut, angst WORD COUNT. 19k CONTENTS. infidelity, alcohol & weed consumption (MC is a non-smoker if that matters to you), explicit smut (dirty talk, fingering, finger sucking, oral (receiving), rimming (receiving), groping/frottage, marking, spit play, (brief) ear play, breast play, creampies/unprotected sex (if you explicitly need me, a stranger on the internet, to tell you not to fuck raw, you are not responsible enough to be reading this. move along now), snowballing, public sex, car sex, riding, bratty dom-leaning switch!haechan, bratty sub-leaning switch!reader, sweet dom!jeno, face riding, handjob, overstimulation (receiving), praise kink (receiving), light degradation kink (giving), mating press, morning sex) NOTES. welcome back to meeeeeeee!!! i hope you enjoy this fic because i worked very hard on it!! please leave feedback if you liked it :) i would also greatly appreciate tips if you really liked it :3 THANK YOU LIKE THE HUUUUUGEST THANK YOU TO BRI (@jalitepng) FOR BETA READING THIS BIG OL FIC :D PLAYLIST. the boy is mine - ariana grande // fantasize - ariana grande (unreleased) // lowkey (feat. erykah badu) - teyana taylor // agora hills - doja cat // pussy is mine - miguel // softest touch - khalid // cut - tori kelly // seatbelt - josh levi // often - doja cat // surrender - nbdy
how can it be you and me? might be meant to be, can’t unsee it but i don’t wanna cause no scene i’m usually so unproblematic, so independent, tell me why ‘cause the boy is mine.
You suppose your fate was sealed from the beginning.
Even as you’re riding in the passenger seat of Yunjin’s car as she speeds down the freeway, your heart filled with a relief and fulfillment you haven’t had for the past six months, you can’t help but feel like something’s… lacking.
“So, spill,” you hear Seulgi pipe up from the backseat. “How many little British boy hearts did you break on your little Oxford trip?”
“Who says I broke any hearts?!” you exclaim with an incredulous laugh, and everyone in the car turns and gives you the same unimpressed look. “Oh, that was creepy. Did y’all plan that?”
“You were gone for six whole months and you want us to believe you got up to no romantic shenanigans? Hm?” Seulgi asks, narrowing her eyes at you, and you narrow yours right back.
“I didn’t break any hearts!” you defend yourself, and Chaewon sighs.
“Did you stow away a cute British boy in your carry-on?” she asks, and you make a face.
“Certainly not.”
“Then there’s a broken heart floating around in Oxford as we speak!” Chaewon insists, and you scowl.
“Let me out right here.” you mutter, turning to open the door on the freeway, laughing as the other inhabitants of the car gasp and shriek in alarm. “I’m joking!”
“You’re crazy, that's what you are.” Yunjin clarifies, and you giggle.
“I was having a laugh.” you say unapologetically. “Anyway, I didn’t really get up to too much in Oxford, really. I was focused on studying, I guess.”
“Oh, lame!” Seulgi boos, and you roll your eyes.
“I’m here now, though, so the hot girl spring and summer can commence!” you say happily, and your friends cheer.
“Winter just texted asking if we got you off the plane okay,” Chaewon announces, and you shake your head.
“Tell her my seatbelt got stuck and wouldn’t let me out and so they took me back to England.” you suggest, and Yunjin snickers.
“Tell her the pilot got confused and took her to the wrong New York. If she asks what other New York, just be like, ‘the other one?’” she adds on, and Chaewon snorts.
“You’re both terrible.” she laughs as she types in a response.
“What’d you tell her?” Seulgi asks.
“That she got held back for getting her bag searched and they found five kilos of cocaine. So they took her out back and made her snort all of it as punishment and now she’s running amok in the city like Cocaine Bear. She’ll beat us back to the house.”
“And we’re terrible?!” you exclaim indignantly.
“Well, yes.” Chaewon replies calmly. “Mine is obviously a lie.”
“Wh— My seatbelt getting stuck isn’t an obvious lie?” you splutter.
“Well, that could actually happen!” she defends, and you blink at her incredulously.
“I didn’t expect the lesbian to forget that scissors exist.”
Chaewon’s jaw drops and she jabs a finger in your direction. “Homophobe!” She turns to Seulgi for support, but Seulgi just shakes her head.
“You’re alone in this one, Chae,” Seulgi giggles. “I laughed, I’m sorry.”
“Man, this is some bullshit.” Chaewon grumbles. “You’re supposed to have my back! We’re… we’re sapphic sistren!”
“You actually did not just say that.” Seulgi marvels. “Sapphic sistren is crazy.”
“I had to pull the gay card to win.” Chaewon says with a shrug. “I’m not sorry.”
“Can we get back on topic, please?” Yunjin laughs incredulously. “Jesus, it’s like if you put squirrels on a podcast.”
“We should make a podcast, actually.” Seulgi suggests, and you nod.
“We could call it ‘That’s Nuts,’” you say excitedly.
Chaewon snorts. “I’m in.”
Yunjin beeps her horn loudly, garnering all of your attention as you all jump in surprise. “We’re outside all spring and summer, right?”
“Well, after work, yeah.” you agree, and she smiles, nodding.
“I don’t want to hear you missed out on a fun fling or opportunity because you were busy working.” Yunjin jabs her finger at you accusingly, and your hands fly up defensively.
“In my defense, doing my job is way less risky than taking chances romantically.”
“Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?” Yunjin complains. “Live, girl!”
“There are gonna be cute guys at the party, obviously. So I will live!” you insist, and Yunjin nods.
“That’s more like it.”
Returning to your thoughts for a moment, it dawns on you that romantic excitement is exactly what you’re lacking. You want to love; you want to love someone and be loved by that someone and for that love to be something beautiful and consuming, and you’re not sure how much longer you’re going to have to wait.
You’re in the middle of making a mental pact with yourself to be just a bit more daring, a tad more forward and bold when it comes to love, when Seulgi and Chaewon laugh loudly at something on one of their phones, snapping you out of your internal monologue, and you shift in your seat, turning to face them.
“I can’t believe you guys left your whole apartment unattended during a house party just to welcome me home,” you sniff dramatically, and Seulgi snorts.
“Anything for you, my friend.” she replies with a playful crinkle of her nose, and you reach out to pinch it lightly.
“Besides, it’s not like it’s completely unattended! Winter’s there.” Chaewon points out, and you raise your eyebrows skeptically.
“Right… what is her non-confrontational ass gonna do if something goes wrong?” you ask, and Seulgi winces.
“Good point. Maybe step on it, Yunjin.”
“I’m already going twenty over the speed limit!” she exclaims defensively.
“You’re not even exaggerating,” Chaewon half-gasps, half-laughs as she leans forward to look at the speedometer. “We might make it there quicker, but we might not make it there safely.”
“We are here for a good time!” Yunjin yells, whipping her hair around excitedly. “Not a long time!”
“Deeply concerning words coming from our driver.” Seulgi snickers quietly, and you nod, turning back to sit in your seat properly. “So…”
You peer at her through the rearview mirror curiously. “So?”
“I’m just imagining Jeno’s reaction when he sees you again for the first time.” She shrugs with a faint teasing smile, and you can feel your cheeks warming as a small smile starts to tug at your lips.
Jeno’s had a thing for you for the past… year and a half—at least, that you’re aware of—and you won’t lie, he’s definitely easy on the eyes and a sweetheart to top it all off. Before you went away to Oxford, you two had built up a bit of a flirtationship that neither of you tried to push further because of your study abroad trip you had planned.
Now, however, you’re back, and you’re admittedly excited to see if it leads to something worthwhile.
“He’ll probably do that little crescent-eyed smile he always does when you spare him a crumb of attention.” Chaewon supplies as you’re lost in thought, and you roll your eyes as Yunjin nods knowingly.
“I’m willing to bet he’s gonna try to be glued to your side all night.” she adds, and you sigh loudly and dramatically.
“You guys are really something else, you know that?”
“You love it!” Chaewon says confidently, and you can’t help but smile fondly, nodding in agreement.
“I kinda do.”
Yunjin spares you a sideways glance that lingers for suspiciously long on your frame, and you raise an eyebrow.
“My eyes are up here.” you joke, waving a hand in her line of sight, “and, more importantly, the road is over there.” She chuckles and relents, refocusing her attention on the road, but she has that telltale look on her face that usually means she has something on her mind. “What are you thinking about?”
“Well—not that I’m judging at all, because, you know… live your life, girl.” Yunjin pipes up, and you turn to look at her, curiously awaiting the rest of her thought. “But are you gonna wear that to the party?”
You look down at your comfortable sweats and hoodie, perfect airport attire, and look back up at Yunjin with a playful frown. “What, is this not cute enough?”
“Well…” she trails off, and Seulgi pops her head forward between the front two car seats.
“No! It’s not a good enough outfit! You’re the guest of honor at your own welcome home party, and you have to come harder than some cozy gray sweats with a hole by the ankle.” Seulgi scolds, and you roll your eyes with an amused smile.
“Obviously I’m not going to wear this to the party, girl.” you laugh, and Seulgi sighs in relief. “I was just messing with you.”
“Well, cut it out! You know I’m gullible.” She frowns, and you reach into the backseat to pat her hand comfortingly.
“All the more reason to mess with you, my love.” you reply with a deceptively innocent smile. “Anyway, when we get back home, I have to shower and freshen up and change into my actual outfit. I also have to sort out the presents I brought back for everyone and make sure Jeno’s cake is still in good shape.”
“I still can’t believe you baked him a cake,” Chaewon marvels. “It’s giving domestic. Housewife, even.”
“Martha Stewart found jobless,” Seulgi adds, and you snort.
“I know this is his favorite type of cake, so I just… thought I’d make it for him.” you mumble quietly with a small, dismissive shrug.
“That is very cute to me,” Yunjin says reassuringly before punching the horn roughly and making the rest of the three of you jump in surprise. “Stupid fucker doesn’t know how to use his turn signal?!”
“Yunjin, calm down,” you advise, patting her knee gently.
“I am calm,” she replies, her tone level, and you pull your hand back, still eying her suspiciously. Sure enough, as she drives by the driver that failed to use his turn signal, she rolls her window down and yells out a string of expletives that makes Chaewon gasp in horror.
As Yunjin rolls her window back up and turns the radio up, you sit back and smile, thinking about how happy you are to be back at home.
You get home an entire eight minutes before your initial ETA, making Yunjin grin proudly when you make the announcement.
After your friends help you bring your luggage up to your apartment, you go into the bathroom to freshen up. After the extensive process that was showering, brushing your teeth, reapplying your skincare and makeup, and applying lotion and getting dressed, you emerge, fresh-faced and victorious, into your living room where your friends lie sprawled on your couch as they wait for you. The only eyesore about your appearance is the large sack you’re carrying of presents you brought back for your friends.
“I’m ready!” you chirp happily, and Yunjin is the first to look up from her phone at you, eyes taking in your casual and comfortable yet cute attire before she nods appreciatively.
“It’s giving Santa Claus,” Seulgi chuckles, gesturing at your large bag slung over your shoulder.
“Ho, ho, ho,” you drawl with an amused roll of your eyes.
“Stop it, Seulgi,” Chaewon scolds before focusing her gaze on you. “You look cute! Bet you-know-who’s gonna be all over you.” she says with a teasing grin, and you roll your eyes despite smiling before you set the bag down and set about getting out your gifts for your friends that are present.
You hand Yunjin a wrapped box of gorgeous shoes from an England-exclusive boutique and she sets about unwrapping it, her eyes widening with excitement as she reveals the present inside.
“Holy shit?” she gasps, gaping at the shoes. “These are perfect!”
“They’re so you,” you agree with a proud nod. “I saw them one day through a window while I was walking down the street and had to stop in and get them for you.”
“My turn, my turn!” Chaewon exclaims eagerly, bouncing in place as you root through your large sack and pull out a small wrapped box, which you hand to Chaewon carefully. She squeals in excitement once she’s opened the present, leaping up and engulfing you in a tight hug. “My perfume! I thought they discontinued it!”
“They stopped selling it in the States, but I managed to track down a store that still had some in stock, so I got you a couple—y’know, so you wouldn’t run out.” you say, smiling, and she beams at you.
“You’re the best.” she says seriously, looking you directly in the eyes to drive home her sincerity.
“I try,” you reply with a nonchalant shrug before reaching into the bag once more and pulling out one last present for Seulgi, wiggling the box at her invitingly.
“For moi?” she asks with feigned surprise, a hand to her chest.
“Indeed,” you confirm with a grin, and she sits forward, taking the gift from your hand and opening it up.
“Oh, my God.” she exhales in shock, staring down at the designer earrings and bracelet set. “These look expensive as fuck.”
“They kinda were,” you admit sheepishly. “All of your gifts were a pretty penny, actually, but you guys definitely deserve them. Those really spoke to me, and I thought they’d look gorgeous on you.”
“Thank you, my love,” Seulgi coos affectionately, standing up to engulf you in a hug. Yunjin and Chaewon join in a brief moment after, the four of you hugging tightly for a lingering, blissful moment.
“You’re all very welcome. Are we ready to go now?” you say, changing the subject with ease even as your voice is muffled into Seulgi’s shoulder, and Seulgi pulls back immediately with an emphatic nod.
“Ready as ever! Our fridge has snacks that are calling to me from over here.”
“You’re such a drama queen.” you scoff in amusement as you all head to your front door and file out after each other.
“Must have gotten it from hanging out around you.” she replies with playfully narrowed eyes in your direction.
“Oh, really?” you challenge, biting back a laugh, and she nods, puffing out her chest comically as she chest-bumps you on purpose. “Assaulting me in the middle of my apartment complex is actually wild and unheard of, and you will be hearing from my attorney.”
“Bring it on, baby!” she urges, and Yunjin rolls her eyes in poorly concealed amusement as you two start to giggle at your antics, the sounds of mirth ringing out in the lobby as you exit the elevator.
“You two are so strange,” she remarks in wonder. “But later for that. Onto more pressing matters!”
“Such as?” you question, holding the door open for Chaewon to follow behind you into the street.
“How long will it take us to get from our house to yours?” Yunjin asks, pulling out her phone to search for it, but Chaewon seems to be one step ahead, already focused on her phone screen.
“The travel time from here to our house,” she announces loudly, squinting at her phone momentarily, “is roughly twenty minutes.” You all stand around Yunjin’s car at your respective doors, waiting for Yunjin to unlock the car so you can get in.
“Hm, yeah? Why so long?” Yunjin asks curiously as she moves to look over Chaewon’s shoulder. “Traffic, huh? …I bet I can shave that time down to fifteen minutes.” Her eyes glint with excitement as she presses her car door remote, the sudden and loud beep-beep of the doors unlocking making you and Seulgi flinch for a moment.
“Dear Lord, help us all,” Seulgi mumbles as you all climb into Yunjin’s car, strapping in before she peels out of her parking space and zooms into the night.
True to her word, Yunjin precariously shaves six minutes off your travel time and you pull up to Chaewon’s and Seulgi’s apartment earlier than anticipated, exhilarated and pumped full of adrenaline.
“Are you excited to be back at La Casa Payasa?” Seulgi asks with a smile, and you nod with a relieved sigh.
“It’s just like I remember it.” you hum fondly as you head up to their door and bring your fist to the door, only getting to knock once before the door swings open and Mark throws himself at you for a hug.
You catch him with a surprised laugh, stumbling back from the impact slightly but returning the tight hug nonetheless. He tucks his face into your neck and mumbles something that you can’t hear, prompting you to pull back slightly.
“I didn’t hear a word you said,” you chuckle, and he pulls back as well so you can see his bright smile.
“I missed you so much,” he repeats, and you coo fondly, pulling him back into the hug.
“I missed you, too!” you chirp warmly, squeezing him in the hug for good measure. When you two pull apart, Chenle’s standing beside Mark and grinning at you. “Hey, Chenle!”
“Hey, stranger,” he teases, pulling you into a hug of his own. “Long time, huh? Let’s hear that British accent you developed over there.”
“I don’t know what you’re on about,” you reply in your best British impression, and he bursts out laughing.
“Man, that’s good stuff,” he chuckles with a shake of his head. “We missed you over here!” he complains, moving to swat you on the arm. “Don’t leave again.”
“I’ll do my best to stick around.” you assure him, and he smiles and nods, content.
“Now what’s with this big ass bag you’re carrying, huh? Did you stow away some British goodies for us?” Chenle asks curiously, pinching the fabric of the sack over your shoulder.
“Something like that,” you say slowly before you set it down and reach inside, handing Chenle and Mark their respective gifts. As they open them, Mark being considerably more careful than Chenle, you wait, hands clasped behind your back and rocking back and forth on your heels.
“How the hell did you get a signed Steph Curry jersey?” Chenle questions, baffled and thrilled, and you shrug with a secretive smile.
“I have my ways.”
“Never mind that—how did you get Frank Ocean himself to sign this album?” Mark asks, downright bewildered, and you shrug again.
“Ways that I have… that are mine.”
“You’re so silly, but this is amazing,” Chenle laughs, hugging you. “Thank you so much!”
“You’re welcome,” you lilt sweetly, and Mark looks up from the Frank Ocean vinyl again to meet your inquisitive gaze with wide, awestruck eyes.
“You’re incredible. Genuinely.” he stammers, and you smile widely as he pulls you into a hug as well once Chenle’s released you.
“I do my best,” you reply happily.
“Wait, also, how was your flight? Anything crazy happen?” Chenle asks curiously, and you pause as you think back.
“Actually, yeah; these two guys got into a verbal argument and then one of ‘em was like, ‘I’ll beat everyone’s ass right now!’ Which, objectively, is a crazy thing to say, but crazier to insist when you’re in a metal contraption thousands of feet in the air.” you start explaining, and Chenle’s eyes widen.
“No way,” he mumbles. “Then what?”
“Then he started threatening the flight crew, and I’m pretty sure he got placed on the no-fly list.” you finish with a solemn nod, and Mark gasps.
“I could never imagine never being able to fly again.” he mutters in awe, and you nod in agreement.
“I know, right? He had it coming, though.” you say, and they shrug, nodding in agreement.
“I guess so,” Mark agrees before his face lights up as he seems to remember something. “Hey, where’s Jeno? He’s been waiting for you to show up.”
“I think he’s with Winter and Haechan right now,” Chenle answers, and you scrunch your face up in confusion.
“Who’s Haechan?” you ask, baffled, before it dawns on you. “Oh, wait, that’s Winter’s new boyfriend?” you ask, and they nod. “I see… well, can’t wait to meet him, I guess.” You shrug indifferently, now craning your head to look around for Jeno.
You spot him before he spots you, the male standing alone texting on his phone by the couch. As if he can sense you looking, he looks up and his eyes lock on yours a moment later, his entire face brightening up as he starts to make his way over to where you’re standing.
By the time he’s where you are, you’re both sporting excited yet shy smiles as he opens his arms for a hug and you step into it. His arms drop to your waist and you wrap yours around his middle as he squeezes you gently.
“Hey,” he mumbles into the embrace, a smile audible in his voice.
“Hey, there.” you greet.
“Welcome back.”
“Good to be back,” you reply with a little grin.
“Did you have a good flight?” he asks curiously, and you nod.
“Minus a crazy guy on the plane, but it all ended fine,” you assure him, and he looks momentarily bewildered but manages to rein in his reaction.
“That’s good, I think… what seat did you get?” he questions, leaving you somewhat touched by his thoughtful questions.
“I got a window seat,” you answer with a smile, and he nods in approval.
“I love a good window seat,” he hums. “Did you watch a movie or nap or something?”
“I napped for a bit, yeah,” you chuckle, suddenly remembering how you’d had a bit of drool dried on your cheek earlier. Subconsciously wiping at the spot, you smile up at him casually. “I’m still a little tired, though.”
He frowns sympathetically before a little hopeful smile appears on his face. “Well, I hope you’re not too tired, because I wanted to give you something.”
Your eyes widen. “You got me something?”
He nods shyly. “I got you something. It’s in my car, though, and I parked kinda far, so I have to go get it. Come find me later when I come back so I can give it to you.”
“You got it,” you say with a smile. “I’ll come find you for sure. I actually have something for you, too, so we can trade.”
“Oh, no way! You’re the best.” He beams, squeezing your waist, at which point you realize you two never let go from the hug. Your cheeks on fire, you withdraw your arms from his middle and he does the same to you with an amused chuckle.
“I’m actually gonna go grab something from the kitchen,” you say, jerking a thumb in the direction of the hallway. “You want anything?”
“Nah, I’m good. I’m gonna run to the bathroom, actually.” he answers, and you nod before you two go your separate ways. You turn back at the sound of your name to see Jeno looking at you with a soft gaze and an even softer smile that makes you feel like you’re a giggly school girl all over again.
“It’s really good to have you back. It really wasn’t the same without you. Seeing all your Instagram stories gave me a crazy sense of FOMO, and our little phone calls here and there really made me miss you even more,” he says sincerely, and you place a hand over your heart, touched.
“I’m really happy to be back,” you assure him. “I missed you.” His brows flick upwards in surprise at your somewhat bold admission, and you blink twice in mild alarm before continuing in a slight rush with, “I—well, like, I missed you, and Yunjin, and Chae—I missed you all, y’know? The story posts were so you wouldn’t forget about little ol’ me. I loved our phone calls, but it’s so much better getting to talk to you in person.”
He laughs lightheartedly and nods, waving you off reassuringly. “I get you. Go get yourself some snacks! We didn’t stock up on your favorites for some random people to eat it all up before you get any.”
“Copy that,” you say with an emphatic nod, saluting him jokingly before heading to the kitchen.
As you’re making your way to the snacks, you catch the eye of a very handsome stranger leaning against the wall in your hallway talking to one of your friends from work. To your surprise, he doesn’t look away from you as you approach, even going so far as to turn his head as you walk by to keep staring at you.
You’re not sure if you’re more intrigued by him than by the challenge he’s posed, but you keep eye contact until you get to your kitchen and round the corner to find yourself a snack.
Moments after you’ve entered the room, you feel someone enter behind you, a smile coming to your lips as you realize who it most likely is.
When you turn to face the newcomer, he’s standing surprisingly close to you, his eyes scanning your face with an intrigue and intensity that leaves both of you a little breathless.
“Hi.” the handsome stranger says as his lips curl into a grin.
“Hi, there,” you echo, smiling back at him. ”Did you follow me in here?”
“Would you believe me if I said it was fate?”
You pretend to think about it. “By the way you watched me walk in here… no.”
He chuckles. “Fair. I had to ask you a question.”
“Luckily for you, I love questions.” you hum, placing both hands on the counter behind you and leaning against it in a silent invitation not only to ask his question, but also to approach.
Thankfully for you, he does both, stepping closer with a small chuckle and asking, “I was wondering if you believe in love at first sight.”
“Oh, brother—” you start to laugh, and he joins you before waving his hands to get you to stop.
“Hear me out!”
“My listening ears are on,” you reply with a smile and coy tilt of your head that definitely doesn’t go unnoticed, based on the way his already probing gaze intensifies.
“Do you?” he asks again, and you think about it for a moment.
“Not really,” you admit, letting out a small giggle at the disapproving look he gives you. “But maybe I can be convinced.”
He smiles widely, looking so bright that it truly dazzles you before continuing on to say, “I’m glad to hear that.”
“Why?” you ask. “Do you?”
“I don’t think I did,” he answers carefully, “until I saw you just now.”
“Oh, brother!” you burst out laughing—half from surprise and half from being flustered by how surprisingly sincere he sounded. In your attempt to recover from your outburst, you catch a glimpse of him to see that he’s gazing at you openly with a fond look in his eyes. “You are really something, you know that?”
He steps closer to you with a heat in his eyes, a glowing ember of intensity burning as he asks, “Something good or something bad?”
You shrug playfully and lean closer, wanting him nearer to you. “Jury’s still out on that part.”
He chuckles and wets his lips before his gaze drops to yours. “Can I present some new evidence?” he murmurs, and you tilt your head to the side as you pretend to think it over. “Has anyone ever told you that it’s really cute when you do that?”
“Of course,” you snicker. “Why do you think I do it?”
“So you’re turning up the charm right now, but you don’t believe in love at first sight?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.
“Is it love at first sight or attraction, sir?”
He grins and steps even closer, dangerously close to touching you. “So you’re attracted to me.”
You look around, confused. “Now who said all that?”
“You just did.”
”I most certainly did not.”
He half-scoffs, half-laughs in disbelief and points at you accusingly. “I heard you.”
“You heard wrong, I guess,” you reply with a nonchalant shrug before patting his chest twice. Your phone buzzes in your back pocket and you both hesitate, neither of you wanting to exit the intimate moment. However, when it buzzes a second time, then a third, you decide to give up and pull your phone from your pocket to check it.
jeno [23:04] hey i’m back
jeno [23:04] i have your surprise :)
jeno [23:05] let me know where to find you
You lock your phone and look up at the handsome stranger with a small frown. “Anyway, this was great, but I have to go find someone.”
He frowns deeply and catches your hand as it leaves his chest, lacing his fingers with yours and looking up at you. “Do you actually have to leave or am I making you nervous?”
“I told my friend I’d find him later, and it’s officially later,” you explain truthfully, and he seems to hear the sincerity in your voice, because he relaxes visibly. “Maybe I’ll find you after?” you offer, and he perks up, gently squeezing your hand.
“I’d like that.”
“Can I get a name? So I know who I’m looking for later?” you ask.
He smiles, shaking his head. “I’ll tell you when you find me later.”
You pout, and he smiles fondly at you. “I guess.” you relent, grabbing the soda and snacks you came to get off of the counter and heading towards the kitchen exit. “See you later?”
He nods resolutely. “See you later.”
You exit the kitchen with a small smile that threatens to take over your whole face if you don’t calm your spirits as you begin your second search of the night for Jeno.
After grabbing the presents you got for him from where you’d stashed them in Chaewon’s room, it doesn’t take you long at all to find him, the male still lingering by the entrance when you spot him. You sneak around a small group of people and pop up beside him, making him jolt in surprise and clutch his chest.
“Hi,” you giggle, and Jeno slumps with relief when his eyes lock on you, a warm smile coming to his face.
“Hey,” he chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.
“So… how do you want to do this?” you ask curiously. “I can go first if you want?”
“No, I want to go first for sure,” he replies with a sureness in his voice that leaves you a little surprised and mildly impressed.
You gesture for him to start, still holding your present for him behind your back, and he retrieves two small, rectangular boxes from inside his jacket pocket.
“That looks expensive,” you say worriedly, and he chuckles fondly before waving a hand dismissively.
“It wasn’t too bad, don’t worry.” he replies reassuringly as he hands you the small boxes.
You gesture awkwardly with your hands still behind your back, trying your best to indicate that your hands are currently out of commission, and his eyes light up with understanding before he’s gingerly opening one of the navy blue boxes.
You gasp once you’ve peered into the box, your eyes wide as you look up at him in surprise. ”Jeno.”
“Is it too much? Oh, God, you hate it. I’m sorry–” he starts to worry aloud.
“Wait—Jeno—”
“I can take it back, maybe, and you can pick out something you’d like more—”
“Jeno?”
“I should have thought it through more carefully—”
”Jeno!” your voice is gentle in tone but loud enough to catch his attention, his worried eyes locking in on yours. “Please relax.”
“Sorry,” he mumbles embarrassedly, looking down at the floor.
“I was going to say that I genuinely love them. The necklace and the earrings are stunning, and they’re exactly my style.” you say sincerely, in awe as you stare down at the beautiful pieces of jewelry Jeno bought you. The necklace is a silver choker, a paperclip-like link type chain with a diamond-encrusted butterfly in the center. The earrings are matching silver hoops with butterflies adorned along the rings of metal, and your jaw drops slightly as you take in the beauty of Jeno’s present.
“You really like it?” he asks excitedly, a hint of worry still in his voice, but when you nod, his brows unfurrow and he smiles widely, relieved. “I saw the set and it reminded me of you. It’s beautiful, classy, and fun.”
You can’t help but smile. “You think I’m classy and fun?”
“Of course,” he answers instantly, and your smile widens as you step closer to him curiously.
“You think I’m beautiful?” you ask with your eyebrows raised, and Jeno visibly swallows.
“I do,” he bashfully agrees, and you coo fondly, wanting nothing more than to set his present down and wrap him in a tight hug. “I really do.”
“Jeno,” you tease playfully, “I’m kinda dying to know what’s in the other box.”
“Oh, yeah!” he exclaims, closing the first box and opening the second as he explains, “I just got them in gold and silver because I know you tend to wear both depending on your mood and your outfit, so I gave you options.”
“Jeno, that is so thoughtful.” you gush appreciatively, and he blushes immediately, cheeks pinking along with the tips of his ears. “I absolutely love them,” you say gratefully, a warm smile curling your lips.
“Thank God,” he sighs with a laugh that you join him in.
“Okay, so… don’t know how I’m gonna top that,” you joke, “but it’s my turn now.”
“You have my undivided attention,” he assures you, and you can’t help but bat your lashes at him slightly.
“I like the idea of that.” you say flirtatiously, and he chuckles, shaking his head in amusement. “Okay, here, we’ll trade and you’ll open.”
“Deal,” he agrees, swapping presents with you. You watch nervously as he unties the ribbon on the white box and lifts the lid. “This looks delicious, holy shit.”
“I made it myself,” you say carefully.
He looks up at you in surprise. “From scratch?”
You nod. “From scratch.”
“That’s amazing,” Jeno marvels. “Isn’t Victoria sponge cake hard to make?”
“Baking is only hard if you can’t follow instructions.” you say with a resolute nod, and Jeno snickers.
“I never thought of you as a rule-follower, if I’m being honest,” he admits.
You shrug. “Rules and instructions are very different to me, but I can be very obedient when I want to be.”
Jeno pauses at that, eyeing you suspiciously. “Oh, yeah? Like when?”
“In the bedroom.” you answer without hesitation, smiling in amusement as Jeno’s eyes widen slightly.
“You never gave off ‘obedient,’ y’know.” Jeno informs you.
“If I can tell you know what you’re doing, I’ll listen to you.” you reply with a nonchalant shrug.
“Yeah? Would you listen to me?” Jeno asks, voice quieter and, if you’re not mistaken, lower than before. There’s a suggestive edge to his voice, playful and flirtatious, but in the way that very much indicates that he’d stop joking in a minute if you were into it.
“Depends,” you answer, smiling up at him. “Do you know what you’re doing in there?”
His responding chuckle is significantly deeper than the ones before it, the sound undeniably attractive as he regards you carefully. “Absolutely.”
“Is that so?” you muse softly, watching him intently. “And I’m supposed to go off of your word?”
“You don’t trust me?” he asks, raising an eyebrow, and you shrug.
“I just tend to learn better from experience.” you reply with a small flirtatious smile that threatens to overtake your whole face.
“Maybe we can arrange that.” he says with a playful grin.
“I’ll keep my schedule open.” you say with a curt nod, and he snorts in amusement.
“Perfect.” he agrees before focusing his attention on the smaller box in his arms. He sets the cake box down on the table by the entryway and unwraps the other, cube-shaped box, his eyes widening with excitement when its contents are revealed to him.
“No way!” he gasps, turning the Big Ben snow globe this way and that.
“I remembered you have a snow globe collection and I thought I could help you add to it.” you explain, and Jeno looks up at you, eyes bright.
“You’re amazing. Thank you so much.” he gushes happily, and you beam at him before waving him off.
“Of course, Jeno. I just wanted you to know I was thinking about you while I was gone.” you say sweetly, and he grins before opening his arms for a hug,
You step into his embrace readily and wrap your arms around his middle, the two of you squeezing each other tightly. When you pull back slightly, you realize Jeno still hasn’t let you go, his arms still securely wrapped around your waist.
“I really missed you, y’know.” Jeno says softly, and your heart warms.
“I missed you too, Jeno. It’s good to be back.” you echo, and he smiles before gently releasing you, his reluctance apparent in the way his fingers linger as they pull away from you. “Oh!” you say, remembering something out of nowhere. “I actually still have to give Winter her present, so I’m gonna track her down and do that.”
“Oh, of course, yeah, go for it. Thank you again—I’m gonna demolish this cake later.” Jeno says, finishing his sentence in a conspiratorial whisper, and you giggle.
“I’m glad. I’ll see you in a bit, yeah?” You reach up and pinch his chin gently, smiling wider when his blush from earlier returns in full force.
Jeno nods shyly, and you release him before venturing further into the party in search of Winter.
Finally spotting Winter across the room on her phone, you cross the living room and tap her shoulder from behind, smiling widely when she turns around.
“Hey!” she greets excitedly, wrapping you in a hug. You two rock from side to side for a moment, hearts full, before you release each other. “What’s up?”
“I just wanted to give you your present,” you say with a small shrug and a smile, and her eyes widen. “It’s nothing crazy!” you warn her, waving your hands dismissively, and she shrugs, reaching out for the gift bag in your hand with opening and closing fists.
“I wanna see! Can I see, please?” Winter pleads, and you give in with a fond laugh, handing over the gift bag.
You wait with bated breath as she opens the present, her eyes softening fondly as she gazes down at the stuffed plushie in her hand.
“It’s so cute! How’d you even find a desert fox plushie?” she asks, in awe as she turns it this way and that.
“I had it commissioned from a toy store boutique only in England,” you explain, and she smiles widely, wrapping you in another tight hug.
“Thank you so much,” she gushes, pulling back from the embrace to clutch her plushie to her chest tightly. “I gotta come up with a name for you, little guy!”
“You do that,” you laugh, moving a stray curl out of her face. “I’m gonna keep making my way through the party.”
“Okay,” she sing-songs. “See you later!”
“See you, babe!” you chirp, waving goodbye before heading back the way you came, deciding to take a detour into the kitchen for more snacks.
You’re barely in there for five minutes, munching happily on salty and sweet snacks alike, before you exit and run almost directly into the chest of someone; the only thing stopping the collision are their quick reflexes as they steady you in place.
“Sorry!” you apologize, stepping back and looking up to your victim before you stop short and a pleased smile curls your lips.
“Hey, you. Was wondering where you’d run off to.” the handsome stranger from earlier says, smiling at you.
“Oh, y’know. Making the rounds, saying hi to everyone. It is my party, after all.” you reply with a secretive smile, and he steps closer with raised eyebrows of intrigue.
“Is that so?” he asks, and you nod, stepping a bit closer to hear him better.
“Mm, yeah,” you hum. “You know what’s weird?”
“What is it?”
“This party is for me, and yet there are people here I’ve never met before,” you muse. “Like you.”
“Maybe it’s a sign you're meant to get to know me.” he suggests with a wry grin, and you roll your eyes with a laugh.
“Good one.” you reply playfully. “So what should we do to get to know each other?” you ask with a playful lilt and feigned curiosity.
“Mm, you could start by telling me more about yourself.” he replies, and you raise your brows.
“‘Myself’ is a very broad topic,” you point out, and he snorts. “Be more specific.”
“Fair, fair.” he agrees with a chuckle. “What are…” he trails off thoughtfully before he perks up again, “your love languages?”
“I feel like this is an unfair advantage sort of question,” you reply with a small pout. (You do not miss the way his gaze softens fondly. Or the way it drops to your lips.) “So, I’ll only answer if you do, too.”
“That’s fair,” he agrees with a smile. “You first, though.”
“Mine are,” you say as you try to recall what the quiz results said the last time you took it, “acts of service, physical touch, and quality time. What about you?”
“Wait, let’s unpack yours first—”
“No, you say yours, then we’ll unpack mine. Fess up, bucko.” you press, poking him gently in the chest.
He laughs at your poke and mini outburst before obliging. “Physical touch,” he murmurs, leaning into your space and smirking slightly when you half-step, half-stumble back, “words of affirmation,” he straightens up and gestures between the two of you casually with a cheeky grin before finishing with, “and quality time.”
“You’re so smooth,” you gush sarcastically, and he snickers.
“Why, thank you. I’d say I try, but then I’d be lying.”
You shoot him a look. “Don’t push it.”
Holding his hands up in surrender, he shrugs. “My bad.”
“As long as you know.” you reply with a sweet smile, and his gaze softens. “What?”
“You’ve got a beautiful smile, you know that?” he murmurs, and your cheeks warm.
“Thanks,” you mumble bashfully, and he coos fondly at you.
“So cute,” he fawns.
You glower at him. “I’m out of here,” you mutter, undeniably flustered and embarrassed about it.
“Aw, come back, cutie—” he slips his fingers around your wrist gently and tugs you closer, smiling when there’s virtually no resistance from your end. “I didn’t mean to make you all nervous,” he apologizes with a playful, teasing lilt that tells you he might not actually be all that sorry.
Turning your nose up, you look away from him even as his hand slips down to let his thumb stroke gently at the back of your hand. At your small intake of breath, he smiles and tugs you even closer—dangerously close, actually—before moving to wrap his hand around the small of your back.
It’s almost as if the Fates themselves decided to intervene, the divine timing is that impeccable.
His phone pings, and he frowns before pulling it out of his back pocket and checking the screen. His face falls visibly and so drastically that it actually hurts you to see for a moment, leading you to avert your gaze politely.
His hand slowly retreats from its original path, and you’re shocked to find that you’re a bit disappointed.
“Do me a small favor? Schedule some time for me later before your busy, busy party ends? I’ll be back.” he says hopefully, squeezing your hand gently before shooting you an apologetic smile and turning to weave between a couple of people before disappearing into the hallway.
You try not to look as disappointed as you feel, but apparently you fail because Seulgi’s by your side moments later from out of virtually nowhere.
“I saw you pouting from all the way across the room,” she chuckles fondly as she strokes your back gently. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m not pouting,” you mumble, and Seulgi raises an eyebrow.
“Tell that to your bottom lip,” she points out, and you tuck it back in with an air of defeat. “Exactly. Now what’s wrong?”
“I was talking to this really cute guy earlier,” you admit with a slowly deepening frown, “but he had to leave really suddenly.”
Seulgi makes a sympathetic hum. “Did you get his name?”
“No!” you complain, and she nods in understanding.
“Well, even if he had to leave, he might come to another party in the future—because he clearly knows someone here, you know?”
“What’s wrong?” Chaewon asks, a tipsy Winter in tow.
“How do you know something’s wrong?” you ask, confused.
“You’re pouting,” Chaewon points out, and you splutter, bewildered.
“I’m not!” you exclaim defensively, and Winter winces sympathetically.
“You are.” she confirms, reaching out and unceremoniously poking your bottom lip before giggling to herself.
“She’s mad her party crush pulled a Cinderella and dipped on her,” Seulgi explains.
“Ah,” Chaewon and Winter both say sympathetically.
“That sucks,” Winter sighs. “Speaking of cute guys disappearing—has anyone seen my boyfriend anywhere?”
“What’s he wearing?” you ask, and Winter moves to answer before Chaewon unknowingly cuts her off.
“It’s so weird that you and Haechan have been at this party for so long and have yet to run into each other.” Chaewon marvels aloud, and you shrug casually.
“I probably walked by him or something and just didn’t know,” you brush it off, and Chaewon nods thoughtfully.
“Walked by who and didn’t know?” Yunjin asks from behind you, and when you turn to face her, she frowns. “Why are you pouting?”
“Mother of God—” you huff, crossing your arms, and Yunjin winces.
“Jeez, tough crowd.” she chuckles. “Walked by who and didn’t know?” she presses.
“Haechan,” you explain, and her brows furrow together in confusion, but she doesn’t say anything.
“Oh,” is all she says after a moment. “Wait, can you, um, come help me with something in the bathroom?” she asks you, eyes concerningly piercing.
“Sure,” you mumble, definitely confused but picking up on her sense of urgency.
“We’ll be right back,” Yunjin explains, tugging you away. “Roommate problems!” she calls over her shoulder, and you grimace to really sell the direness of the situation.
You let her tug you into the bathroom towards the back of the apartment by Seulgi’s and Chaewon’s bedrooms, and she sits you down on the toilet before taking a deep breath.
“I don’t exactly know how to tell you this, but I was trying to find you earlier before this spiraled out of control.” she starts.
“You’re scaring me,” you complain, and she shushes you as she unlocks her phone and starts searching for something.
“You did meet Haechan, actually, but I have a feeling no one told you that you met Haechan.” Yunjin says finally, and you think back to the very small amount of people you met for the first time today, pondering over who it might be before Yunjin turns her phone to show you the screen, and—
“Fuck.” you mumble hoarsely, and Yunjin nods slightly before closing her phone on the screen she’s just showed you of a photo of your friend group, presumably from when you were abroad, where Winter is sitting happily on the lap of— “that’s the stranger I was talking to.” you say sadly. “My party crush.”
“Did he ever say his name?” she asks, and you think back, growing increasingly more irritated when you realize—
“No,” you mutter bitterly, “he must have conveniently forgotten to share that part.”
“Can I say something?” Yunjin says carefully, and you nod solemnly. “I saw you two staring at each other before he followed you into the kitchen.” Your blood runs cold, and it must show on your face, because she quickly adds, “I’m not mad at you, and I’m not going to tell anyone. I’m just gonna warn you, because that staring contest was intense, and I don’t know what happened in that kitchen—I don’t want to!” she says suddenly, putting her hand up to silence you as you move to speak before slowly continuing with, “I just know none of that can happen in front of Winter, so it shouldn’t happen at all.”
“Agreed.” you sigh sadly. “Yeah. I mean, I’m pissed as hell, and I might maim him the next time I see him, but other than that, I guess I’m fine.”
“I mean. yeah. Definitely agree with maiming him, actually.” she agrees after a moment of thought. “Just do something subtle and easy to explain away.”
You smile at her, your spirits lifted slightly. “You’re the best.”
“Love you, girl.” she says sincerely, bending down to hug you before helping you to your feet. “I got your back.”
You head back out there with no pout in sight, only a deceptive smile as you plan your revenge.
It’s not long before the not-so-mysterious stranger comes back around, by which time you’ve fully worked yourself up into a huff about the situation once more, crossing your arms, leaning against the wall, and eyeing him disapprovingly as he approaches.
“Why so serious?” he jokes, and you raise an eyebrow.
“At what point were you going to tell me you’re dating Winter?” you ask, deciding to get right to the point, and he freezes, shock on his face. “Yeah.”
“I’m sorry,” he says immediately.
“For what?” you test him, and he frowns deeply.
“For hiding that from you.” he sighs, and you huff as he continues, “I just really wanted to get to know you, and I felt like I had to hide that because you knowing would ruin it!”
You look at him with an eyebrow raised pointedly. “And what would you call this?”
His frown turns to a petulant pout. “Ruined?” he asks.
“Ding, ding, ding,” you say sarcastically before turning to leave.
“Wait, I’m— I’m really sorry,” he pleads, catching your hand before you can slip away. “Can we start over a little bit?”
“How are we gonna start over a little bit?” you ask skeptically, and he stands up straighter, tugging you a bit closer before smiling hopefully and releasing your hand to wave in greeting.
“Hi, I’m Haechan, Winter’s boyfriend,” he introduces himself as he offers his hand to shake. As you take it, he gently urges you closer with a testing tug before adding, “and I think you’re beautiful.”
“Haechan!” you whisper, half-laughing in surprise, and he shrugs with a sheepish grin.
“Figured I’d lay all my cards out on the table this time.”
“Kinda ballsy, no?” you raise your eyebrows, crossing your arms, and he chuckles.
“I’m a pretty ballsy guy.”
You eye him up and down before tilting your head to the side and saying, “I’m sure.”
“So am I forgiven?” he asks hopefully.
“For now,” you reply after a moment of thinking, and continue at the sight of his excited smile, “but I’m watching you.”
“I’d be upset if you weren’t.” he murmurs, and you roll your eyes with a laugh.
It doesn’t take long for your one-sided animosity to dissipate as you and Haechan manage to fall into a normal enough conversation about your activities in Oxford. At one point, the familiar but unpleasant smell of weed filters into your senses, making you subconsciously wrinkle your nose in distaste.
Haechan raises an eyebrow, amused. “You alright?”
“You don’t smell that?” you ask, and he sniffs the air before he chuckles.
“I’m guessing you’re not much of a smoker?” he speculates.
You shake your head, tipping your head back to swallow the rest of your drink. “Definitely not.” You lick your lips to clean up the remnants of your drink, and barely stifle the laugh that bubbles up when you notice Haechan watching your mouth with both entirely rapt attention and a slightly dazed expression. “See something you like?”
“Sure do,” he breathes, and you yelp, swatting his arm lightly. “You asked!”
“As a joke!”
“Well, sorry for failing to read the room properly. I was a little, um, distracted.”
“Haechan.”
“Hm?”
“Stop staring at my lips.”
“What if I don’t?” he asks, stepping closer to you slowly. “Hm?”
“You’re awfully bold for a guy who’s dating one of my friends.” you murmur back, and he shrugs, smiling flirtatiously.
“I know what I want.” he answers casually, and the resolve in his voice takes you by surprise, leaving you to swallow a growing lump in your throat.
“I’m, uh,” you stammer, looking around for something, anything, that can save you from his intense attention. “I’m gonna go see if they want snacks,” you finally answer pathetically, and he doesn’t buy it for a minute, a smug grin curling his lips before he nods, seemingly complying.
He waits for you to move past him, staying perfectly still and therefore forcing you to squeeze between him and the counter, and head towards the living room before he’s so close behind you that he’s practically on you and only then does he reply, a smile audible in his voice as he murmurs, “Let’s go, then.”
“Hi, my dear friends. Are we having a good time?” you ask as you re-enter the living room and scan over each of your friends, all sitting in a circle with Yunjin’s infamous hot pink bong placed carefully in her lap. The party continues on around them, people only sparing cursory glances at the very occupied couch and nearby seating of Seulgi’s and Chaewon’s living room, but you couldn’t care less about the other guests, instead focusing your attention on your seven cross-faded friends.
Yunjin, ever the lightweight, looks up at you with red-rimmed, half-lidded eyes and a dopey smile. “Never better.”
“I actually just want to say that I missed you so much,” Chaewon sniffles, hurriedly wiping away a tear before looking up at you earnestly. “I’m so happy you’re back.”
“I missed you, too!” you reply, touched, and she sniffles loudly, the tip of her nose pinking in that signature way that lets you know more tears are en route whether she likes it or not.
“I’m not gonna lie, yo,” Mark mumbles, rubbing a hand over his face and looking over at you. “I’m about to be starving.”
“‘About to be starving’ is crazy, actually.” you snicker, and Mark joins in your laughter, his laugh bubbling up inside of him almost uncontrollably.
“Well, you know how it goes; we smoke, we get high, we get the munchies.” Mark explains, and you nod in understanding.
“Mark… I went to England for a study abroad program… not to get a lobotomy.” you say slowly, and he snorts loudly in surprise and amusement. “I remember what happens when y’all get high.” you remind him, and he lifts his hands up in surrender, nodding back at you with a grin. “Do you guys want food from the deli down the block?”
“Yes!” The resounding chorus of assent from all your high friends actually takes you by surprise, sending you stepping back in shock only to stumble directly into Haechan’s chest. He steadies you instantly, hands gripping your shoulders securely, and quietly double-checks with you to make sure you’re actually sturdy before releasing you.
You hate that you found his touch comforting for even a second, trying your best internally to squash the initial attraction you had to him as you attempt to focus on the task at hand.
“Okay, sounds good to me. Can y’all just type your names and what you want in my Notes app?” you ask, unlocking your phone, opening the Notes app, and passing your phone to Yunjin. As your phone makes its way around the circle, you turn slightly to face Haechan, who’s already watching you with an unnerving level of intensity.
“Haechan, why don’t you go with her?” Seulgi suggests, completely missing the warning glare you send her way. “She can’t carry all of that by herself.”
“Yeah, sure, no problem.” he agrees easily, and you purse your lips for a moment, breathing in deeply before turning fully so you’re face-to-face with Haechan. “Looks like we’re gonna spend some more one-on-one time together.” he says with a secretive smile, and you swallow hard, not knowing what to expect from this little excursion.
Your phone eventually makes its way back to you and you look over the orders before putting your phone in your back pocket and heading to grab your coat, Haechan following diligently behind you.
“Okay, we’ll be back soon! Try to hang in there, guys.” you announce, stepping out of the apartment and holding the door open for Haechan, who exits and shuts it behind himself.
As you two make your way down the hall to the elevator, he speeds up slightly so he’s walking in front of you before turning fully around to face you, taking smooth backwards strides down the hall.
“Can I help you with something?” you ask, confused, and he shakes his head with a smile.
“Don’t mind me.” he replies, and you snort in amusement.
“Kinda hard not to mind you when you seem hellbent on staring holes into my face.” you mutter as you press the elevator button.
“Not my fault you’re nice to look at.” he defends himself, and you look over at him instantly, shock written all over your face. “What’s wrong? Surely you’ve heard that about yourself before.”
“I sure have,” you agree readily, sighing in relief when the elevator door opens. Stepping in, you add, “I just haven’t heard it from the mouth of my friend’s boyfriend.”
“Ah, well.” He follows you into the elevator and shrugs with a “what can you do?” type of smile, making you narrow your eyes. “First time for everything, yeah?”
“Yeah…” you reply slowly, regarding him suspiciously. “Let’s try and make that first time the last time, okay?”
“No promises.” he murmurs, a smile audible in his voice. When you look over at him, he winks at you so quickly you almost think you imagined it, and you jolt, making a noise of bewilderment that sounds embarrassingly close to a mix of a squawk or squeak before turning to face forward again.
The weather actually feels quite nice, you realize when you both get outside, a light, cool breeze filtering through the trees, and you and Haechan walk alongside each other for the first two, maybe three minutes in silence before he breaks it.
“Can I ask you a question?” Haechan asks, looking over at you as you two walk to the deli.
“Depends… is it weird?” you return his question with another question, and he chuckles, shaking his head.
“Don’t think so.”
“Okay, then shoot.”
“I noticed your reaction to the smell of the weed smoke earlier,” he recalls, and you hum in acknowledgement. “Do you not smoke?”
“Not at all,” you reply, and he nods in understanding. “I don’t do any drugs.”
“Me either,” he replies, and a mildly surprised smile makes its way to your lips. “Can I ask if you have a reason for never wanting to try anything?”
You’re silent for a moment as you attempt to find the right words to explain yourself and Haechan waits patiently, the two of you walking in a comfortable silence before you break it. “I don’t like the feeling of not being in control of myself.” you say carefully, and he gives you an emphatic nod that piques your curiosity. “You too?”
“Somewhat, yeah, but I was mainly nodding because I completely get it. For me, I don’t like moving any slower than usual or feeling restricted in any way.”
“That makes perfect sense, too.” you say, giving him a firm, approving nod of your own, and he chuckles quietly. “I’ve always wondered about what it might be like to just… mellow out and calm down, y’know?”
“Definitely,” he agrees. “They usually get so… happy.”
“Exactly! Well, except for when Chaewon starts crying out of nowhere.” you add.
Haechan laughs. “Yeah, I don’t know what that’s about.”
“That’s another thing, too.” you say, starting to feel more comfortable talking about it to someone who understands. “I feel like some drugs—especially, like, weed, LSD, acid, shrooms, and stuff like that—they tend to bring out, like, parts of your subconscious that are typically hidden away.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard about that and I’ve definitely seen it happen,” Haechan says, sounding surprisingly solemn.
“Yeah, so… whatever’s going on under the surface in here,” you say, tapping your temple, “is none of my business.” you finish with a resolute nod, making Haechan snicker. “I will simply continue raw-dogging life on this bitch of an earth.”
“That’s so real.” Haechan says through his laughter, making you smile.
“Thank you!” you chirp. “Also, when you say you don’t like moving slower or feeling restricted, do you mean in a physical or mental sense? Or is it both?”
“Hmm,” Haechan hums thoughtfully. “Definitely both. I just feel like… I would describe myself and my lifestyle as somewhat fast-paced, y’know? Like, not really very sedentary, I’m always on the move, and if I’m high off of, like, weed or something, I feel like all I’d be able to do is… vegetate… and I hate the thought of that.”
“That’s so real,” you say, echoing Haechan’s earlier statement. “Well, you know, if you want to move faster, there’s always cocaine,” you joke, and he snorts loudly, clearly not expecting your comment.
“I definitely wouldn’t try cocaine,” he laughs, shaking his head. “I can just imagine my poor mom if I came to visit her one day and I was all strung out and tweaking.”
“Aw, are you a mama’s boy?” you ask teasingly, nudging him with your shoulder.
“Maybe a little bit, yeah,” he admits with a shy smile, and you grin.
“That’s sweet.” you assure him, and he visibly relaxes, laughing with an air of bashfulness. “We’re here, by the way!” you point out, gesturing to the deli less than thirty feet away at the end of the block.
Haechan jogs slightly ahead of you, opening the door and holding it for you to enter.
“Thank you,” you say with a grateful smile as you step inside. The smell of the deli is delicious, the scents of various foods being cooked wafting through the air, and for a moment you half-expect to start floating involuntarily towards the tastiest smelling dish.
“Okay, let’s get these orders in,” you mutter to yourself before making your way over to where the grill cooks are stationed. “Hi, how are you feeling tonight?” you greet politely, exchanging brief pleasantries before continuing on with, “I actually have a pretty big order I’d like to place with sandwiches and sides, but I don’t mind waiting if I have to!”
“Go ahead, miss,” one of the cooks says, and you look down at your phone before starting to read off the orders.
Haechan stands off to the side and watches on as you rattle off the nine different sandwich and side order combos to the cooks, who nod and start to prepare them. When you’re finished, you turn to face Haechan and smile sweetly before leading him towards the drinks and snacks.
“Okay, can you help me carry these to the front?” you ask Haechan.
“Of course, yeah,” he answers, and you start to hand him various drinks and snacks off of the note everyone wrote in.
“Okay, a raspberry peach Snapple for me… a Redbull for you—wait, Haechan, you like Redbull but you won’t try cocaine…? Seems fake,” you comment, and Haechan lets out a shocked laugh before raising his hands—well, he’s holding a drink in each hand, so fists—in surrender.
“Take it easy on me!” he begs jokingly, and you pretend to think about it before relenting with a smile and continuing to collect the drinks.
“Mountain Dew for Seulgi… Sprite for Jeno… oop, and a Sprite for Chenle, too… root beer for Winter… blue Gatorade for Mark… Arizona raspberry iced tea for Yunjin, and finally, that XXX Vitamin Water that Chaewon’s always raving about.” You close the refrigerator door with your hip, the two of you carefully carrying your armfuls of beverages to the counter.
“I never got the Vitamin Water hype.” Haechan admits.
“It’s essentially juice, but like water with a splash of juice, maybe two if you’re lucky.” you say. “At least, that’s what I think, but some of them do actually taste pretty good, too.”
“Hm,” he remarks thoughtfully. “I don’t know, I just never got into it.”
“You got into that Redbull pretty easily though, huh?” you tease, and he laughs, his cheeks pinking ever so slightly, and you’re glad he’s looking away so he can’t see how blatantly you paused to look at him.
“Miss, some of your order is ready!” One of the cooks calls out to you, and you shoot them a thumbs up as they bring two sandwiches and a couple of trays to the counter for you. “Do you want to pay now or when we’re finished preparing everything?”
“Oh, I can pay now! Just let me go get the chips and stuff.” you say before whizzing off to where the snacks are, returning shortly after with Seulgi’s Takis and Chenle’s red Doritos and placing them on the counter triumphantly.
The worker manning the register rings your stuff up and reads you out the total, to which you respond by pulling out your phone to tap the card reader, but Haechan calls your name before you can complete the transaction, making you look over at him in confusion.
“I got it,” he offers, reaching for the card reader with his own phone only for you to shoot him a funny look and nudge his phone out of the way to finish paying with your own phone.
“You didn’t have to pay for it, Haechan,” you assure him. “Think of it as the small fee I had to pay for disappearing from the country for about half of a year.”
“Yeah, but I was being a gentleman.” he protests with a frown.
“It’s okay! Be a gentleman to your girlfriend—not me.” you say with expectantly raised brows.
“I’m trying to impress you, though,” he points out, and you roll your eyes.
“Read the room, maybe?” you chuckle, and he scrunches his nose up in distaste. “Something wrong?”
“I’m not much of a reader.” he replies with a dismissive shrug, and you raise your eyebrows.
“I’m a librarian.” you remind him. “My job is literally all about reading.”
“On second thought,” Haechan blurts out, “I literally read every day, all the time.” When you snicker in amusement, he grins and continues with, “I’m being so serious. I’ve read every bottle of shampoo and body wash in my shower front to back!” he presses, and you burst into laughter.
“You’re ridiculous.” you giggle as you recover from your laughing fit, and he grins shamelessly.
“I made you laugh, though,” he points out with a smug little grin. “So you kinda like it.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you lie with a sniff, looking away.
“You think I’m funny,” he teases, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively as he gets closer. “And if earlier was any indication, you think I’m attractive.”
“Where are you going with this?” you say with a roll of your eyes.
“You like me.” he replies simply, and you choke on your spit.
“Two fairly objective observations are not an indication of me liking you.” you splutter indignantly, and Haechan raises his brow.
“Being attractive is objective now?” he asks skeptically, and you glare at him, turning to the row of deli cooks pretending not to be watching your conversation intently.
“Is he a handsome guy?” you ask them, and they all look between each other with confusion and mild discomfort. “Literally no homo. Please relax. Is he a handsome guy or is he an uggo?” you emphasize, and one of them snorts.
“He’s definitely not ugly, no,” one of the cooks pipes up, and they all nod in agreement. “Handsome guy, actually.”
“Good bone structure,” the cook beside him adds, and you could swear Haechan starts to blush. “Yeah, he’s a good looking dude.”
“Sí, muy guapo.” A cook you can’t even see chimes in, and you and Haechan look at each other, bewildered.
“How many of you are back there?” Haechan asks as he chuckles nervously.
“No te preocupes, amigo.” the same cook says, still concealed from view. “Eres guapísimo.”
“Thank you, guys.” you reply gratefully before turning to stick your tongue out at Haechan triumphantly.
To your surprise, his gaze darkens. “Do that again.”
“No, I’m good.” you reply immediately, fixing your face and turning away from him. “Little freak.”
“Mm, maybe a little bit.” he hums, and you grimace.
“Yuck.” you mutter, narrowing your eyes in his direction. “Get a grip. As I was saying, me finding you funny or attractive has nothing to do with liking you.”
“Why wouldn’t you, though?” he presses, and you let out an exasperated sigh before turning fully to face him.
“You have a girlfriend!” you whisper-shout, confused even further by the way he looks at you, smug and unimpressed.
“So that’s the only thing stopping you?” he says slowly, and you pause as you realize what you’ve admitted to.
“It’s the only thing that matters.” you huff with an air of finality, and Haechan just chuckles, stepping closer.
“Not this? Hm? Not how good—no—how right this feels?” he murmurs suggestively, and you shake your head firmly.
“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” you mutter, and he scoffs in disbelief.
“Are you really gonna keep playing dumb?”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” you sing-song, and he rolls his eyes.
“Sure.” he murmurs, amused.
Desperate to change the topic, you look around, your eyes landing on the bags of food on the countertop.
“Man, those fries smell so good,” you groan, staring enviously at the bag containing Winter’s order of curly fries.
“Mm, yeah?” Haechan hums, looking from the bag to you. He puts a finger to his lips in a shushing gesture and pops open the plastic container. He pulls out a small handful of Winter’s curly fries, about as much as he can fit between his thumb and forefinger, and grins at you, winking before popping one in his mouth.
He reaches his hand out, offering you one of his stolen goods, and you hesitate for a second before deciding to reach forward and take the proffered curly fry. As you chew it, your eyes roll back into your head in ecstasy, the fried good the perfect amount of salty, crunchy, and warm.
“Thank you,” you say gratefully, and he waves you off dismissively.
“You’re welcome,” he replies. “It’s our little secret, okay?”
“Jeez, I just met you tonight and you’re already trusting me with secrets?” you chuckle, and he shrugs.
“Well, should I not trust you?” he asks curiously, and you shake your head instantly in disagreement.
“You can trust me, don’t worry.” you assure him, and he smiles widely, nodding slowly in understanding.
“Great.”
“The real question is if I can trust you,” you continue, and he chuckles.
“You can,” he says confidently, and you raise your eyebrows skeptically.
“How do I know I can trust that?” you ask, and he laughs, rolling his eyes slightly as he leans closer to you conspiratorially.
“That’s just a risk you’re gonna have to take.”
“No, thanks. I’m not big on risks.” you admit.
Haechan tilts his head to the side curiously. “You don’t take any risks?”
You pause to think about it, thoughts racing back to earlier when you made the mental pact with yourself to be more daring and take more risks. “Not really, no. Unless you count letting Yunjin drive.”
He snorts. “I’m talking big risks.”
You stare at him blankly. “Have you ever been in the car with Yunjin?”
Chuckling and shaking his head slightly, he says, “I have.��
“It’s pretty risky.”
“I’m talking about different risks, though. Think harder.” he presses.
You sigh loudly but oblige, thinking about it again. “I guess studying abroad in Oxford felt pretty risky… I was essentially all alone on the other side of the world.”
He shakes his head. “Bigger,” he explains. “I’m talking about something that,” his gaze slowly falls to your lips and he continues, “could go really wrong.”
It feels like he’s hinting at something, and you’re not sure you want to find out.
“Truthfully, I don’t get why I would take risks like those.” you say with a pensive frown, and he smiles, eyes still trained on your mouth with an unmistakable fascination as he steps closer to you, practically cornering you against the snack rack behind you, and if he hears your squeak of alarm, he chooses not to comment.
“It’s about the reward,” he murmurs, his tongue slipping out to wet his lips slowly. “People take risks because they think that the reward is worth it in comparison to what could go wrong.”
“Well, I don’t think most risks I can think of off of the top of my head are worth it,” you say with a stumped pout.
“I can think of one I wanna take right now,” he hums softly, reaching up to rest one hand on the rack behind you, and you balk, finally starting to understand what he’s been hinting at.
“I, um, think that might be too risky.” you reply cautiously, and he chuckles quietly.
“I disagree,” he says plainly. “I think it’d be so worth it.” he breathes out, his gentle breath fanning over your lips, the minty scent tempting you more than you’d like to admit.
“If you try and kiss me right now,” you say quietly, “I will bite your lip until it bleeds.”
He snickers and nods in understanding. “Understood.”
“Is that risk worth it now?” you ask wryly, and he bites back a laugh.
“I don’t know, let me find out.” he says, leaning in closer, and you yelp, pushing his chest reflexively and, when he barely budges, clapping a hand over your mouth and glaring at him as he laughs loudly. “Man, you’re cute.”
“Shut up,” you mutter contritely, moving your hand away when he relents and steps back. “Let’s not ask why I don’t feel comfortable taking risks and ask, instead, why you—” you poke his chest accusingly, “feel so comfortable being so reckless.”
He shrugs nonchalantly, explaining, “I don’t think it’s that I’m reckless—”
“Yeah, right.” you mutter.
He ignores you. “I think it’s that I want to know what it feels like to truly live.” he finishes, and you pause at that, genuinely taking in his words. “Life is too short to be scared to indulge, you know?”
“Well,” you say slowly, thoughtfully, “I guess that makes sense.”
His eyes widen slightly in surprise. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. Maybe I could stand to live a little more,” you ponder, noticing the way his eyes drift down to your lips once more and quickly adding, “but that doesn’t mean you can kiss me. I’ll still bite you.”
“Oh, yeah?” he asks softly, teasingly, and you nod. “What if I said I kinda like it a little rough?”
“I’d say you’re in the wrong relationship.” you blurt out before you can stop yourself, and Haechan’s eyes widen as he points at you with a bright, triumphant grin. “I’m joking! I’m joking.”
“I don’t think you are.” he replies smugly.
“Oh, brother.”
“You think I’m in the wrong relationship?” he presses, and you shake your head vehemently, desperately trying to cover your tracks.
“Only because Winter is not a ‘likes it a little rough’ kind of girl,” you explain quickly.
He nods in agreement. “This is true.” he admits, and you relax slightly, glad he gets your point. “So, who would be the right relationship for me, hm?” he teases, and you groan loudly, tipping your head back in exasperation. “Got any ideas?”
“Nope.” you answer flatly.
He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, leaning closer. “You sure about that?”
“Miss, the rest of your order is ready!” One of the cooks calls out, and you pounce on the interruption eagerly.
“Thank you!” you call back to the cooks before turning to Haechan with a relieved smile. “You know what? We’d better go back before they put out a Missing Persons report for us.” you dodge his taunting question from earlier and carefully remove yourself from your very compromising position, walking towards the counter of the bodega to collect the bags of food. “Are you coming or what?” you huff, attempting to conceal how flustered his previous line of questioning has left you by placing a hand on your hip impatiently.
He shakes his head with a chuckle, but meets you by the door, slipping his fingers in the loops of the numerous bags weighing down your index and middle fingers to relieve you of the burden. He leans forward, opening the door for you and gesturing for you to exit first. “You’re lucky I don’t want to hear any of them complain about their food being cold, because I could do this—” he gestures between the two of you, “all night and then some.”
“That’s great, Casanova,” you drawl, pointing ahead of you down the street towards where you’re heading. “Now walk.”
As you two walk back from the bodega, you can’t help but notice that Haechan’s path keeps veering slightly off-course, the male repeatedly bumping into you as you two walk.
“You good?” you ask finally after what must be the eighth mini-collision, and Haechan chuckles, albeit somewhat sheepishly as he brings a hand up to rub the back of his neck. “Is there a reason why you keep bumping into me? Are the bags throwing you off-balance or something?”
“Would you, uh, believe me if I said that I just like you and want to be close to you?” he answers, and you stop short, blinking at him impassively which causes him to stop walking as well.
“Bold words for someone with a whole girlfriend back at the party.” you reply with a dismissive snort, and he shrugs.
“I don’t know what it is,” he says as you two slowly fall back into a comfortable pace. “I think we’d be good together.”
“Haechan,” you warn.
“You fascinate me,” he admits plainly, staring at your face openly. “I wanna get to know you better.”
“Mm, I don’t know about that,” you say apprehensively.
“I’m gonna learn about you eventually, because I’m not going anywhere.” he replies confidently. “I’m gonna learn everything about you—your hopes, your dreams, your fears—” he leans closer so his breath hits your cheek and continues, “what makes you tick.”
“Well, you wanna know something?” you offer, and he nods instantly, leaning towards you in anticipation. “Something that makes me tick is when guys with girlfriends hit on me very blatantly.”
“Ah, I see,” Haechan remarks thoughtfully. “So I should be more subtle.”
“I—well—no, that’s not really what I meant.”
“Well, what did you mean?”
“Stop saying flirtatious things!”
“So you want me to stop saying flirtatious things—”
”Yes, that’s quite literally what I just said—”
“—and start doing flirtatious things.”
Your mouth snaps shut and you stare at him incredulously. “Not even remotely what I meant.”
“No, I think that’s what you were hinting at.”
“You’re unbelievable.”
“You’d better believe it, baby.”
“Calling me ‘baby’ when you have a whole girlfriend is crazy, by the way.”
“Maybe I’m crazy. Did you think about that?”
“Clearly. I’ll let Winter know her boyfriend is actually an escapee from the insane asylum and she’ll just dump you.”
“So you can have me all to yourself… I like it.” He grins, and you open and close your mouth repeatedly, at a loss for words.
“Where are you hearing these things? Haechan, do you often hear things other people don’t?” you ask with patronizing concern, and he bursts out laughing. “It’s not funny, actually! Maybe I will tell Winter after all.”
“She won’t do anything,” he replies through his laughter.
“You’re right.” you agree in disappointment. “Poor girl. She’d probably think she can fix you.”
“I know what could fix me,” he says, fixing you in place with a serious stare.
“Haechan, you’re kinda scaring me.”
“Relax, it’s nothing crazy.”
“You’re not exactly what I’d consider a good judge of what’s crazy or not.”
“I just want your number, God.”
“Oh!” you reply, relieved, and an equally relieved smile appears on his face. “You’re not getting that.”
“Aw, come on!” he whines, leaning on you dramatically. “How am I supposed to get to know you?”
“Through speaking to me in person?”
“So you wanna see me… in person…” he trails off with a suggestive lilt to his voice, wiggling his eyebrows, and you suck your teeth. “If you like me, you can just say that, you know. I won’t tell.”
“You really are crazy.” you marvel, and he grins over at you.
“Is that… intrigue I detect in your voice?” he teases, and you balk.
“No?” you reply a bit too quickly, and his eyes light up.
“You’re intrigued by me!”
“I just wanna know how and where Winter found your crazy ass!”
“So you can go there and get yourself another me?” he replies, and you groan, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Hate to break it to you, princess, but there’s only one of me.”
“Thank God for that.” you mutter under your breath. “So, do you have, like, a mute button or something?”
“I’ll shut up for the rest of the walk back if you give me your number.” he says with a mischievous smile, and you roll your eyes, Haechan’s ever-so-keen eyes noticing your hesitation. “You’re totally thinking about it.”
“I really want you to stop before you get one or both of us in trouble.”
“I will be as quiet as a street rat if you give me your number and don’t block me before I can text you.”
“Damn, how’d you know I was gonna do that?”
“I know the signs of someone playing hard to get.” he says proudly, and you snort.
“I’m not playing hard to get, Haechan. You’re playing hard to get rid of.”
“And I’m gonna play until I win. Now—your number, please.” He smiles dazzlingly at you, pulling out his phone from his back pocket and handing it to you.
You stare at his unlocked phone then at his twinkling, hopeful eyes before sighing in defeat and taking the phone from his hand to enter your number.
“Hell yeah!” Haechan cheers, and you shoot him a judgmental stare.
“Ground rules.” you say plainly, and he nods, instantly attentive. He is cute, you think reluctantly, especially like this as he hangs on your every word like a puppy. “No texting me suggestive photos.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Keep the texts harmless.” you warn him, and he nods in agreement.
“You got it.”
“And don’t call or FaceTime unless it’s an absolute emergency.” you finish, and he scrunches his face up in confusion.
“What if the emergency is that I want to see you or hear your voice?”
“Absolutely bonkers thing to say with a girlfriend, by the way.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“I have Instagram… just look at my pictures or something, I don’t know.”
“What if I want to see you right then exactly how you are?”
“That’s too bad.”
“Fine,” he huffs, and you already know this is going to be a bad decision. “What exactly constitutes an emergency?”
“Honestly, I don’t know. If you were injured or in danger or something and no one else was picking up?”
“Okay…” he trails off skeptically.
“Even then, though, I think you should just call emergency services.”
“You’re brutal,” Haechan remarks in awe. “I like it.”
“Watch it!”
“Watching,” he replies smoothly, grinning in your direction, and you turn to face forward quickly, hoping he didn’t catch your smile. “I saw that.”
“You saw nothing.”
“You smiled. You like me—at least a little bit!”
“First you’re hearing things, and now you’re seeing things? Maybe we should get you checked out.”
“…We?” he points out with a sly smirk, and you roll your eyes as you trudge ahead and up to the apartment building, repeatedly (and with an air of impatience) buzzing the intercom to be let in.
“Thank God we’re back.”
“Since when was the museum so damn expensive?” Chenle mutters in awe as he forks over the thirty dollars for the admission fee.
“It’s the price of knowledge,” Yunjin sighs with a shrug as she takes Chenle’s place at the ticket till and hands the attendant three $10 bills.
“Psst,” Haechan whispers to get your attention, and you turn your head slightly to see he’s leaning towards you. “This is enough to radicalize me,” Haechan huffs bitterly before releasing Winter’s hand and stepping forward to pay. You notice with a curious tilt of your head that he’s taken longer than the rest of your friends so far, despite using Apple Pay, but you don’t think much of it until he’s walked away with Winter and it’s your turn at the register, where the attendant hands you a ticket with a smile.
“Oh, I didn’t pay yet—”
“The gentleman before you paid for your ticket,” she explains with a small nod, and you pause, mentally buffering before smiling at the attendant, taking the ticket, and walking to join your group.
When you meet up with them, Haechan already has his eyes trained in your direction, his left eyelid dropping down into a secretive wink before he grins at you.
“You’re too much,” you mouth at him, walking up beside him to nudge him with your shoulder surreptitiously. He lets out a small chuckle and shrugs as casually as he can before he tickles the palm of your hand with his fingers in a gesture that has you wondering if he plans to hold both your hand and his girlfriend’s. Before the thought can gain much traction, however, the tour guide for your group appears and introduces herself as she passes out museum maps to everyone in your party.
After introducing herself, she takes you through a corridor to the Egyptian art section, walking you by a preserved tomb and detailing funeral processions and Egyptian customs. The guide herself is very engaging and the artwork is fascinating, but you actually came on a mission to see certain wings of the museum. As she walks you through the Egyptian art wing, you consult your map, trying to see if there’s a point coming up where you can casually separate from the group.
Initially, you were following after the tour guide, but now you’re admittedly starting to fall towards the back of the group due to your lack of interest in this particular time period, when the exhibit at the end of the hallway you just passed catches your eye.
You look around you to see if anyone in your tour group is around, observing that the coast is clear before you attempt to break off from your group and do your own thing.
“And where are you sneaking off to?” Haechan’s voice appears out of seemingly nowhere, making you gasp as you whip your head around to look at him.
“Why?” you ask, furrowing your brows. “Are you gonna snitch on me for leaving?”
“I’m not snitching,” he promises you, and you relax slightly before he continues with, “I’m coming.”
You stop short and look at him like he’s grown a second head. “You seem to be mistaken.”
“Definitely not that,” Haechan assures you, and you roll your eyes before quickly turning to leave. He catches up with you easily, making you huff quietly in frustration, and continues to attempt to persuade you, saying, “You need someone with you in case you get lost.”
“Haechan, if I’m with someone and I’m lost, then I’m pretty sure they’re as good as lost too.” you explain slowly, and Haechan pauses to think, leaving you the open opportunity to slip away from him yet again.
He manages to find you yet again, grinning triumphantly when he does, and argues, “I think you should travel with someone—like me—who has a map.”
“Haechan, I am quite literally holding the map they just gave me.” you remind him, and he seems to buffer in real-time, lips parting to form a shocked little “O” shape that is, for all its silliness, stupidly attractive on him.
You’ll give it to him; he’s definitely not lacking in the looks department.
“Well—haven’t you ever heard of the buddy system? There’s safety in numbers, y’know.” Haechan catches up with you once more as you speed walk down a mostly empty hallway.
“Oh, my God, fine.” you whisper-yell exasperatedly. “Fine, you can come with me.”
He perks up immediately, smiling brightly and you can see his body relax as you gradually slow your pace into a comfortable stroll so he can fall into stride with you.
“Great,” he says happily. “Where are we going first?”
“Well, I really want to see the Greek sculptures…” you half-say, half-suggest hopefully.
“Okay, sounds great; let’s go!”
“Haechan.”
“Mhm?”
“Can you walk faster, please? I’m not trying to lose a whole person in the Met.” you complain, stopping in your tracks and turning around to let Haechan catch up to you. The section you’re passing through is packed, the room filled with the din of various animated conversations all overlapping one another.
“Sorry, I’m just taking in all the art in front of me,” he replies, and your expression softens as you remember that this is, in fact, a museum exhibit you’re standing in and not merely a hallway to where you want to go.
“Yeah, the paintings are beautiful,” you agree, and he looks over at you with a confused look.
“Oh—yeah, the paintings are cool, too.” he answers unconvincingly, and you stare at him expressionlessly.
“What were you looking at if not the paintings?” you ask, confused, and he looks you up and down pointedly as if to answer your question. “You’re ridiculous,” you groan, turning to walk away.
“Oh, come on, you can’t blame me! You in that outfit is a goddamn masterpiece.” he defends himself, and you just sigh loudly as you keep walking.
“Keep up!” you quip, and he catches up to you, leaning down slightly so his lips are by your ear.
“Don’t even get me started on this cute little skirt you’ve got on,” he murmurs suggestively, and an involuntary shudder travels down your spine from the ticklish sensation of his breath on the hair on the back of your neck. “Kinda driving me crazy,” he half-mumbles, half-chuckles.
“It can’t be that hard to drive you crazy,” you point out. “You already live on the corner of Bonkers Boulevard and Delulu Drive.”
“Wow, and you call me a menace?” he snorts in amusement, reaching over to pinch your side in retaliation and laughing when you dance away with a giggle. “Come back, I thought we had to stick together,” he complains.
You roll your eyes but stop just ahead of him, hands placed on your hips as you wait for him to catch up.
“That’s better,” he finally says when he’s beside you once more. “You know, maybe we should hold hands.” he suggests, smiling wider and nodding vigorously in an attempt to convince you when you look over at him with a “no” already on the tip of your tongue.
“And why would we do that?” you ask, tilting your head to the side in a patronizing act of confusion.
“It’s crowded. What if someone walks between us and you turn to enter an exhibit but I don’t see where you went?” He frowns petulantly, and you scoff dismissively.
“You can hold my purse,” you offer, holding it out to him.
“How is that gonna help me stay close to you?” he asks with a frown, and you shoot him a look.
“It’ll help me stay close to you,” you clarify. “All my stuff is in there, so I’m not going anywhere that bag’s not going.”
“Hm. I’d rather hold your hand but I guess this will do.” he sighs dramatically, and you snicker.
“Keep wishing.” you reply casually.
“Oh, I will. Got any loose eyelashes I can wish on and blow away?”
“No.”
“Lucky pennies?”
“I don’t have change. Does the universe take Apple Pay?” you reply in a bored tone, and he snorts loudly in amusement.
“Man, gorgeous and funny,” he sighs contentedly, and it’s your turn to exhale in amusement. “Fine. I’ll wait until 11:11 to make the wish.”
“You know that because you told me what you’re gonna wish for, it’s not gonna come true now, right?” you remind him with a teasing smile, and his eyes widen comically.
“I’ll wish for something different.” he relents, and you can’t help but frown slightly at the crestfallen look on his face. You look around to see if anyone you know is nearby and, seeing no one, let out a defeated yet amused sigh before reaching out and linking your fingers with his. “I knew you liked me,��� he remarks with an air of smug satisfaction, and you scowl at him before ripping your fingers from his.
“...And you’re done.”
“Nope, too late,” he replies with a wide grin as he links his fingers with yours again, either oblivious to the fight you’re putting up or simply unfazed. “We’re locked in now.” he teases, and you raise your brows in a silent challenge.
“Oh, yeah? Should I call you something cutesy like—oh,” you say, stopping mid-sentence and turning to look at him with a slowly growing mischievous smile. “What was that name Winter called you on the way here?”
“Oh, please don’t.”
“Was it Snookums?” you think aloud, and he groans, tossing his head back dramatically.
“Please?”
“Cuddlebug?”
“No—”
“Oh!” you exclaim, snapping your fingers and pointing at him. “Pookie Bear.” you say triumphantly, and the grimace on his face is beyond rewarding.
“You don’t have to call me that,” Haechan says hurriedly. “In fact, I’d rather you not—”
“But I love calling you Pookie Bear, Pookie Bear.” you coo affectionately, putting extra emphasis on the embarrassing pet name to leave it dripping with saccharine sweetness.
“You know what’s kind of crazy?” he asks, and you shake your head.
“Besides you? No.”
“Ha, ha.” he drawls. “What’s crazy is that it’s kinda hot the way you say it.” he points out, and you whine loudly in protest.
“I can’t have anything, man! I get to torment you back for less than two minutes, and your freaky little self likes it?” you gripe under your breath as you pull him towards the large sign indicating the doorway to the beginning of the Greek sculptures exhibit. “We’re here!” you announce happily.
“Anything I should know before we enter this section?” he asks curiously, and you think for a moment before nodding.
“Most, if not all, of these statues have micropenises.” you warn him, and roll your eyes instantly at the immediate amusement on his face. “Keep the dick jokes to a minimum.”
“You got it, princess.” he agrees, nodding cooperatively, and you whirl around to look at him.
“Princess?!”
“You call me Pookie Bear, I call you princess.” he says with a nonchalant shrug, and you narrow your eyes at him in a silent staredown. “It’ll grow on you,” he says confidently as he starts walking into the exhibit.
And as you’re tugged along after him, protesting all the while that “it most certainly will not,” you can’t help but feel like it already has—that is, if the sensation you’re feeling of a lone butterfly fluttering around your stomach has anything to do with it.
“Haechan,” you whisper urgently, shaking your linked hands to get his attention.
He looks over at you curiously, eyebrows raised expectantly, and you point towards a sign in the corridor. “What is it?” he asks. “The café?”
You nod. “I’m hungry.”
“Honestly, I could eat,” he agrees, and you beam up at him, tugging him towards the entrance to the café.
The café is lovely, with a fairly large selection of ready-to-eat foods, and you and Haechan walk around the tables of food before you spot one in the distance and slip your hand out of his to go check it out.
No less than a moment after you’ve let go of Haechan, he practically snatches your hand back up, stubbornly linking his fingers with yours once more.
When you shoot him a look, he just stares at you with a challenge in his eyes, daring you to let go again.
“You’re something else.” you laugh, and he shrugs.
“Give a guy a warning next time,” he replies. “I wasn’t ready to let go.”
“Warning: I’m about to let go,” you say patronizingly, and he just shakes his head. “Wh—no? What do you mean, no?”
”No, you’re not.” he says simply.
“I literally am,” you let out a laugh of disbelief before attempting to tug your fingers from his again. “Haechan, quit being a brat!”
“It’s in my DNA,” he replies with a dismissive shrug. “I like holding hands.”
“Hold your own hand, then.” you snicker, and he shakes his head decisively.
“Like holding your hand better.” he coos fondly, and you roll your eyes. “Just take me with you to check out the food, princess.”
“I’m ignoring that,” you huff, but lead him to the sushi rolls you were staring at nonetheless. “Happy now?”
“Thrilled,” he confirms as he smiles over at you, and you bite down on your lip to hide the smile that threatens to greet him. “What are you gonna get?”
“Nothing crazy,” you muse, picking up a tray and inspecting the rolls inside. “Maybe just this and a drink.”
“Which one’s that?” Haechan asks curiously, peering over your shoulder.
“California roll,” you answer with a smile before reaching into the refrigerated drink section and grabbing an organic peach soda.
Haechan follows your lead, picking up a sushi roll container and snagging a Dr. Pepper from the drink area before you two make your way to the cashier to pay.
The cashier greets you both with a friendly smile and rings you up first. When you’re about to pay, Haechan grips the back of your cardigan and firmly but gently pulls you away from the counter before tapping his phone to the payment screen.
“You didn’t need to do that,” you huff with a frown, and he just smiles as the receipt comes out.
“I’m a gentleman,” he replies simply as the cashier rings him up, and you snort in amusement.
“Is that what they’re calling it these days?” you ask dryly, and he narrows his eyes at you. When it’s his turn to pay, you inch closer to the payment screen in the hopes to return the favor, but Haechan is one step ahead of you, plucking your phone from your hand with ease and pocketing it before tapping his phone to the screen again.
“Yeah, it is,” he replies with a cheery grin, smugness laced in his voice. “Come on, let’s eat.”
You two thank the cashier before heading towards the back of the café, where you sit at the corner table, Haechan sliding in beside you.
“You couldn’t sit over there?” you ask flatly, gesturing to the empty spot in front of you, and he shakes his head with a teasing smile. “Of course not.” you sigh in defeat, instead opening your California roll tray and breaking the wooden chopsticks to start eating. “What’d you get?”
Haechan pauses to look at the label on his container before opening it. “Seaside salmon roll,” he replies, snapping his chopsticks neatly into two before picking up a piece of sushi from the carefully composed roll.
“Ooh, yum,” you say before placing a piece of your own roll into your mouth and chewing, your eyes sliding shut in bliss. “God, that’s good.”
“This sushi tastes like heaven,” Haechan groans happily, and you giggle, your mood lifting with some good food entering your system.
“Hey,” you say as you pick up your next piece, “I just realized; what if they want to get food after this?” you ask, and he shrugs.
“Either we’re not hungry, or we get something small.” he suggests, and you nod in agreement before eating the next piece of sushi.
“Are you gonna be sneaky and pay for that, too?” you ask, unamused, and he nods proudly. “I can pay for my own food, you know; my librarian job makes decent pay.”
“Yeah, well, I can pay, too. My job definitely pays decently.” Haechan replies stubbornly.
“Oh, yeah? And what do you do?” you question.
“I’m a wine sommelier for a high-end restaurant downtown.” he answers proudly, and you purse your lips in quiet defeat.
“That actually does sound like a decent-paying job.” you admit, and he nods confidently. “Well, hey, did you know they sell wine here?”
“Oh, yeah?” he asks, looking around for the wine menu and relaxing once you point it out to him.
“Yep. So tell me, Mr. Sommelier, which wine would go best with my California roll?” you quiz him, and his lips quirk up into a smile.
“What’s the taste like?” he asks, and you pick up a piece and put it on his tray, signaling for him to try it. “Without tasting it, I’d say a nice… light, fruity wine would be good for this.” he suggests before placing the piece of sushi in his mouth. As he chews, his smile widens and he nods in confirmation, adding, “I’d definitely say a nice Pinot Grigio would go great with this. The sweet and light notes of the Pinot Grigio would go really well with the flavors here.”
You’re not going to lie to yourself; it’s a little attractive to see him talk about something he knows so much about.
“Yeah?” you hum. “What about yours?”
“Oh, Pinot Noir, for sure. It’s sharp enough to match the heaviness of the salmon, but not too sweet where it takes away from the overall flavor.”
You nod, taking in the information and secretly composing yourself as your insides squeal girlishly at his confident explanation.
“That’s pretty cool, Haechan,” you remark, impressed, and he smiles in satisfaction.
“Isn’t it? You know, we should go on a wine tasting date some time.” he suggests, and you shoot him a suspicious side glance.
“A wine tasting what?” you press.
“Did I say date?” Haechan asks with a chuckle, and you nod slowly, still regarding him carefully. “I meant outing. A wine tasting outing.”
“Nice save,” you snort, and he huffs petulantly.
“It’s not my fault,” he defends himself. ‘I was distracted.”
You raise an eyebrow skeptically. “Distracted?” you ask, and he nods firmly.
“Yeah, your little skirt is messing with my head.” Haechan grunts, and you look down at your lap with a bewildered questioning noise.
To be fair, it is a cute skirt; your beige and black plaid pleated skirt was carefully selected from your closet earlier and clearly must have been a flattering choice, given that Haechan literally can’t keep his eyes off of you.
“Then look up and not at my legs, silly.”
“But if I look up, I see—” he starts to complain but stops as he does just that, looking up from his—well, your—lap and trailing off slowly as he gazes at you.
You’re pretty sure you don’t need to hear what he was going to say, because his face reads loud and clear; there’s desire swimming clearly in his gaze and his lips are parted ever so slightly as he spaces out staring back and forth from your lips to your eyes.
“If you look up, you see… my face?” you supply in an attempt to help him regain his sensibility, and his lips part more as he struggles to find the right words. “I mean, yeah, and my shirt? Well, it’s a white tank—like, yeah, it’s a little short, but—and this is just a beige cardigan, so it’s not as distracting if you look up instead—”
“If I look up,” Haechan says carefully, “I see you.”
For a moment, you’re rendered speechless as the implications of his words sink in.
Looking at him again, you realize there’s an awe in his eyes as he watches you, an adoration almost, and the context of him seeing you sets in. His eyes rove over your face with an almost greed, darting around rapidly as he frantically takes in every detail he can manage to commit to memory.
He’s not looking at you like he’s undressing you, like he’s groping you with a glance; he’s looking at you like you’re one of the seven wonders of the world—like he can’t quite contemplate everything he’s seeing, but he’s damn sure going to try. His gaze caresses you like you’re an antique artifact at the museum that could break if you so much as stare at it too hard.
Observing the way he looks at you is the closest you’ve come yet to understanding how and why the eyes have been referred to as the windows to the soul. His gaze is so open, so vulnerable and wondrous that you have to ponder, for a moment, if this is what it looks like to fall in love.
You push the thought from your head as soon as it emerges, not willing to give it any space in your mind, but you can’t shake the way his gaze completely unravels you.
He watches you like he can see every complexity of your personality in your pores; like he can see your unspoken words reflected in the gloss on your lips—like your eyes hold the manuscript of your hopes and dreams and he’s about to pore over it, memorizing it down to the letter.
He looks at you like he’s dangerously close to seeing you; you, past your barriers and caution tape; you, with all your intricacies and contradictions; and you, with all the hope and yearning and vulnerability you’ve had since your youth that you’ve been trying to convince everyone is no longer around.
You’re utterly overwhelmed with all the thoughts swimming in your brain at the moment, and one thought swims up to the forefront, displaying itself loud and clear and unignorable.
He looks at you like he’s falling in love.
“Haechan, please stop looking at me like that,” you beg in a whisper, scared to speak any louder in case your voice trembles. Something about the intensity of his gaze is beautiful and terrifying all at once, and you’re not ready for him to see you unraveled like this.
Haechan must be able to sense the panic in your voice, your underlying fear of being truly seen and known undoubtedly ringing out in the silence between you two, because he smiles reassuringly and relents, softening the intensity of his gaze until he’s displaying nothing more than mild curiosity and fascination.
“Thanks.” you mutter shyly, averting your gaze to inspect your cuticles in a feeble attempt to act natural.
“No problem. Can I say something, though?” he asks, and you nod, internally bracing yourself. “Have you heard of twin flames?”
“Yeah, isn’t that like soulmates, kinda?” you reply.
something about him was made for somebody like me baby, come over, come over and god knows i’m trying, but there’s just no use in denying
“Kinda,” he says slowly. “Some people call them ‘mirror souls,’” he explains. “Essentially, they’re two people with an intense soul connection that makes them complete when they’re together.”
You pout thoughtfully. “Like two halves of a whole?”
“Something like that, yeah,” he agrees. “The term ‘mirror souls’ is a bit more fitting, because they complement each other; they’re opposites in crucial ways, but in ways that could either ruin things or make them work really well together.”
”Okay,” you say carefully. “Well, thanks for the mini lesson. Why’d you bring that up?”
“I feel drawn to you.” he explains in a rush, almost like he’s been waiting for the opportunity to say it. “Like, I can’t explain it, but when I first met you, I felt—I don’t know—something.”
“I’d wager that the something you felt was just the blood rushing down to your d—” you remark dryly, but he cuts you off, shaking his head.
“It wasn’t.” he insists. “I felt a connection. And you felt it too—remember?”
“No,” you lie. You remember all too well, actually.
“You flirted with me.” he reminds you with a triumphant grin, and you frown.
“That was before I found out you were dating my friend!”
“So the connection magically went away? Hm? The initial attraction you had to me just vanished into thin air?” he presses.
“I locked it in a closet.” you admit. “It can’t come out.”
“Well, unlock it.”
“I have swallowed the key.” you reply stubbornly.
“Well, I’m picking the lock.” he counters, and you gape at him indignantly.
“You can’t do that!”
“And why not?”
“You have a girlfriend.” you remind him, and he has the audacity to scoff and roll his eyes, making you gasp in horror. “Ooh, I’m telling.”
“Who cares about that?” he asks, waving a hand dismissively.
“Um, gee, I would wager that your girlfriend does.” you reply sarcastically. “And you should care, too.”
“All that yapping—”
“I know this boy did not just say I’m yapping—”
“—and you still didn’t say that you care.” he finishes, and you stop short, blinking at him in surprise. “Gotcha.”
“Oh, shut up,” you groan. “I’m not your girlfriend, you know—I don’t have to put up with this.”
“Do you want to be her?” he asks, and you freeze, staring at him incredulously.
“No? I barely know you, and from what I do know, you like stepping out on your girlfriend.”
“False. I don’t like to step out on my girlfriend,” he corrects you, and you roll your eyes. “I just like you.”
“Stop saying that.” you warn.
“I mean it.” he says simply.
“You’re gonna get us in trouble if you keep talking like that.” you reply nervously.
“The risk is so worth it though, don’t you think?” he murmurs conspiratorially, and you stare at him blankly.
”No.” you reply flatly, entirely unamused.
Haechan pouts—somehow handsomely—and nudges you with his shoulder, saying, “Come on… try living a little.”
“No.”
”You know you want to.” he coaxes, and you grumble unintelligibly under your breath.
”What I want is for you to drop the subject,” you say, batting your lashes at him for the effect. “Pretty please?”
His gaze darkens slightly. “Beg again.”
“I didn’t beg!” you splutter, both indignant and flustered by the shift in the air. “I requested politely.”
“Well, request politely again. You’re really cute when you do that, you know.”
”And on that note, this conversation is over. Now,” you say slowly, patting your lap and nudging him with your shoulder. “I think we should probably get back. Y’know… before they notice we went missing.”
“I guess you’re right,” Haechan agrees with a reluctant sigh, gathering your and his food containers and standing up. “Lead the way, princess.”
“Don’t call me that,” you whisper loudly, and he grins cheekily as you two make your way to exit the museum café.
“Stop liking it and I’ll stop doing it.” He retorts, stopping in front of you suddenly so you bump into him.
“Haechan!” you can’t help but laugh at his refreshingly playful nature, and he looks over at you with a twinkle in his eyes. “Has anyone ever told you you’re kind of a brat?”
“Yes, actually.” he replies thoughtfully. “But it takes one to know one.”
You stop short and he turns back to look at you curiously. “Are you calling me a brat?”
“Yes,” he replies easily with a smile. “Yes, I am.” And before you can retaliate, he’s speed walking towards the garbage to throw out your waste, stopping just in front of the exit to wait for you. When you get closer, still staring at him with narrowed eyes, he shoots you a dazzling smile and opens the door, holding it for you.
”Ladies first.”
“Oh, now you’re a gentleman.”
“What do you mean, ‘now?’” Haechan replies, shocked. “I let you sit first, I held the door for you, I threw out your garbage for you and paid—”
“Which you definitely shouldn’t have done, by the way.” you interject, and he stares blankly at you. “Don’t get me wrong, my wallet and I appreciate you greatly, but I was more than capable of paying for myself.”
“It’s okay,” he muses lightheartedly, shrugging. “You can just make it up to me sometime.”
You pause, staring at him suspiciously. “And how would I do that?”
“I’ll come up with something,” he replies with a small secretive smile.
“I don’t like the sound of that.” you say slowly, and he laughs, throwing his arm around your shoulders goodnaturedly.
“It won’t be anything drastic,” he assures you. “Just something like… a kiss.”
“A kiss?” you splutter, and he grins, nodding. “You’d better be joking.”
He turns his head towards you, tightening his grip around your neck not enough to be overbearing but just enough to prevent you from turning your face away. “And what if I’m not?” His voice softens as he continues, “Hm?”
A long silence passes between you two—far longer than socially acceptable—during which Haechan stares pointedly at your mouth and you attempt to avoid doing the same. After what feels like ages, you break the tension-laden quiet by clearing your throat and walking forward and out of his embrace.
“You’re dangerous, you know that?” you say over your shoulder, and Haechan chuckles as he catches up to you.
“I do.” he replies simply, and you snort. He leans over, bringing his lips to your ear, and murmurs, “And I think you like it.”
TA DA!!!!! i hope you enjoyed your read! the second part will be up in exactly two weeks! reminder that (only if you’re able) tips are very much appreciated, as is positive feedback! if you’d like to be added to the taglist, just shoot me an ask and please make sure your privacy settings are updated accordingly!
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#haechan smut#nct smut#nct 127 smut#nct dream smut#lee haechan smut#donghyuck smut#lee donghyuck smut#will be making a masterlist !!!!!!!! and tagging ppl in the reblog!!#haechan x reader#donghyuck x reader
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pairing; yoon jeonghanx f reader
genre; smut (minors dni), angst, fluff/romance, comedy
summary; being friends with benefits with jeonghan has never been what you thought it would but taking a trip to Paris with him and the rest of your friends while expecting to keep it a secret…that’s something completely different.
warnings; eating/drinking, alcohol, mentions flying in a plane, inaccurate french, a bit of self deprecating thoughts and feelings, hiding a relationship, idiots in love, oral (f receiving), fingering, jealousy, crying (from pleasure and not), petnames, unprotected sex, cum on skin/creampie – as always there might be a warning I am missing but do try.
w/c; 19k and some change (489 words on patreon)
a/n; as always I have to thank @junkissed for not only proofreading but also helping me with coming up with so many brilliant ideas. I also want to thank @wooahaeproductions for lending me her brilliant brain and offering so many beautiful ideas. -- after much thought i have decided to sporadically release some of my older patreon exclusives if and when i am feeling generous. since i am working on tkg and unable to release anything the way i would like to i posted a bonus for patreon subscribers and i am releasing this to you all here on tumblr. i hope you enjoy it. to those of you who were less than kind when i first posted it, i hope this teaches you a lesson of patience and humility. if you had been nicer to me this might have came to tumblr sooner.
before continuing remember reblogs are incredibly important and please read how to support me here
“I’ll try not to slobber on your shoulder.”
You roll your eyes with a faint laugh at Mingyu’s words as he sits on your right in the aisle seat. The “fasten seatbelt” sign had just turned off and a quick glance at your phone told you that the plane had been in the air for about an hour. It was going to be a long 13 hour flight to Paris and while Mingyu was settling in to take a nap, you weren’t sure you were going to be following suit.
Jeonghan purses his lips, watching you shift in your seat. You looked restless and he understood the feeling. While he felt like he could get up and take a walk along the aisle, beside him, Dokyeom was snuggled up against the window, watching a movie on the screen in front of him.
Slipping out of his seat, Jeonghan leans to bump his hip against Mingyu, only to make the man groan, opening his eyes in annoyance. You were looking up at your friend curiously, your brows furrowed as he pursed his lips and jutted his thumb back over to where he had been sitting just a moment before.
“Trade with me.”
Confusion slowly spreads across Mingyu’s face as he looks from Jeonghan to you and back up at the other man. Lifting his brows, Jeonghan sighs and waves his hands as if trying to hurry Mingyu out of his seat, as if he were in the wrong spot, when clearly Mingyu had known he was supposed to sit beside you.
“What? You serious?”
“The fuck, you mean, am I serious? I’m talking, aren’t I?” Letting out another sigh, Jeonghan gestures towards Dokyeom once again.” Gyu…Go sit beside Dokyeom and cuddle with him. Clearly, you both want to sleep and Y/N isn’t going to. I want someone to talk to.”
Groaning, Mingyu looks back at you as you give him a soft, pouty smile, reaching up to pat his cheek as he begrudgingly gives up his spot to Jeonghan. Sliding past the smaller man, Mingyu narrows his eyes at him, only to get a smirk in return as Jeonghan slips into the seat with a happy sigh.
Dokyeom glances over to Mingyu as he slumps down in the seat, pulling his blanket over his legs, as he watches Jeonghan look over at you with a grin on his face. There was something weird about what had just happened but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Shrugging, Mingyu glances towards the movie playing in front of Dokyeom as he leans his head to rest it on his friend’s shoulder, watching it on mute as his eyes get heavy.
“Jeonghan…You are so full of shit.”
Your words draw Jeonghan’s attention as he adjusts his seat, leaning it back to get more comfortable beside you. It was going to be a long ass flight but his traveling companion had just gotten exponentially more attractive.
“Why? Did I lie?”
Rolling your eyes, you glance away from Jeonghan and out of the window as he smiles at you. Yoon Jeonghan was one of your best friends. When the idea of going on this group trip to Paris came up, you weren’t sure if you wanted to go but it had been him who had talked you into it. There were plenty of reasons not to go but in his opinion, there were even more reasons to go.
Your relationship with Jeonghan was complicated. It hadn’t started out that way. You had met him along with the rest of your friends in college. All of you were studying different things but at the end of the day, it was your personalities that had led you all together.
Kim Mingyu had been the first friend that you had made and your gateway into the group. Many others had come and gone but by the end of four grueling years at university, there were fourteen of you that had stuck together and now ten of you are on a plane for a once in a lifetime vacation.
When you don’t answer him right away, Jeonghan lets his eyes run along your neck and up to your pretty face. He had always had a harder time than some of the others when it came to keeping it platonic with you. Then, last Halloween, Jeonghan found out he wasn’t the only one struggling with that feeling.
Maybe it had been the alcohol or maybe it had been all of the tension in the air but in a dark corner of Seungcheol’s apartment, you and Jeonghan had shared your first heated kiss. That kiss had turned into a long conversation the next day, which led to an even longer discussion about how neither one of you wanted to fuck up your friendship.
“We will just have rules, Y/N.”
You had sighed as Jeonghan had run his fingers along your jaw, tilting your head up so he could look at your face as he spoke. You hadn’t wanted to agree to the idea of being friends with benefits but the ache between your thighs every time you looked at him had been enough to keep you listening and to make your lips part as he had ran his thumb under your bottom lip.
“If either one of us wants to stop, we just say it. No deep conversations have to happen. My only rule is that if you are going to fuck someone else, tell me. I don’t want to be second best.”
Jeonghan had listened to you whining softly under your breath as his fingernails scratched along the side of your head at your hairline. He had known you wanted it as much as he did but what he didn’t know was that it was going to hurt you just as much as it was already hurting him. It seemed like such a simple solution to how he was feeling. He would get to have you in his life even more. He would get to fuck you as much as possible, but then you’d leave every single fucking time and it would start to hurt every single fucking time.
Turning back towards Jeonghan as you feel his eyes moving along your skin, you fight the urge to move closer to him in your seat. You weren’t alone on the plane and your friends weren’t that far from you, with Mingyu and Dokyeom sitting diagonally across the aisle and Jihoon and Joshua behind you.
“You could have kept Dokyeom awake to talk.”
Smirking, Jeonghan purses his lips as he moves to lean across you, pulling down the shade on the window, leaving you and him both veiled in the low light of the cabin. You sigh as you feel his fingers slide along your forearm to your wrist, his fingernails causing chillbumps to spread along your skin as he draws small circles on your skin.
“I don’t want to talk to Dokyeom, I want to talk to you.”
Sighing softly, you glance down at your hand as Jeonghan runs his fingers along yours before linking his hand with yours. You knew the light was dim enough that no one would see and that if anyone did, they probably wouldn’t ask too many questions because Jeonghan was just a touchy guy to begin with. What you didn’t know was why your heart was in your throat. You didn’t know why your friend with benefits even wanted to hold your hand in the first place.
“Listen…I’m just saying we already came up with the rooming arrangements before we even got on the fucking plane. Why are you two being such bitches about it now?”
You sigh, leaning against Mingyu’s arm, as Joshua stares at Seungkwan and Chan in the hotel lobby. You already knew who you were rooming with and he was doing a great job holding you up at the moment. It was just the youngest of your group who were being cry babies about their rooms.
“We are here for a week, Shua! If you had to spend every single night in a room with Lee Chan, you’d bitch a little bit about it too.”
Groaning, Jihoon rolls his suitcase towards the group, causing Soonyoung to whine as his roommate swipes the card from Seungkwan’s hand before offering his to Chan.
“Why do I have to lose my best friend over this?”
Jeonghan laughs at Soonyoung’s dramatics as Chan pouts, knowing Soonyoung was going to be upset at him for the rest of the day because of the rooming arrangement. You watch the eldest of the group pat Joshua on the back as he gestures for Dokyeom to head for the elevator.
“Come on, Y/N. You look like you could use a nap.”
Hearing your name, you blink up at Mingyu before offering him a tired smile. There had been little sleep on the plane. You had never been good at sleeping on transportation but between that and Yoon Jeonghan at your side, it had been a battle you were destined to lose.
Holding the door back, Jeonghan purses his lips, waiting for you and Mingyu to get in before he presses the button, causing Joshua and Jun to throw up their hands when the door starts to close in their faces.
“Oops! It’s full!”
You knew Jeonghan was being a menace. The lack of sleep was adding another level to his usual antics. Leaning against the elevator wall, Jeonghan watches as you sigh, your head leaned forward as Mingyu stands beside you, his and your luggage in hand as the elevator climbs. He had wondered on the plane if there was a way to switch rooms but that would be too obvious and Mingyu had already looked like a kicked puppy when he had made him give up his seat.
With a final ding, the elevator doors open to a long hallway. Glancing at the wall, Mingyu mutters under his breath before taking a left before looking back at you with a laugh that comes to a stop to let you catch up to him.
“Come on, Squirt. We are in 546.”
Jeonghan rolls his eyes, following behind you and Mingyu, not even noticing the look that Dokyeom is giving him. While Mingyu didn’t seem to realize the relationship that was right in front of him, Dokyeom wasn’t as oblivious. He knew there had been something different for months, even if Jeonghan wouldn’t tell him what it was.
“Don’t plot his murder yet, he’s not flirting. She’s like his sister.”
Dokyeom’s voice is barely over a whisper but Jeonghan still looks at him as if he is announcing his words to the world. It was that sort of wide eyed, deer caught in the headlights look that told Dokyeom that he was right.
“I–shut up. I know that. He’s just dumb. I’m not doing anything.”
Chuckling under his breath, Dokyeom nods along with Jeonghan’s rambling as the two watch you and Mingyu open your hotel door before you offer them both a quick smile and wave, disappearing into the room and leaving them in the hallway.
“Sure, man. Whatever you say, you have the key.”
Waking up to a dimly lit room, you wince at the pain behind your eyes as you try to look around at the other bed, seeing it still made and empty. There was no sign of Mingyu in the room besides his now empty suitcase at the end of his bed and a few of his things strewn about on a couch in the corner of the room.
You hadn’t meant to nap for as long as you clearly had but the flight had been long and now you were feeling bad about how much you must be missing from the trip. It wasn’t like there was a planned itinerary for every single day, but you did have some plans as a group and with different people. Otherwise, you were free to travel the city or use your time as you saw fit. Apparently, for the first few hours spent in Paris, you saw fit to snore into a very comfortable pillow.
Reaching for your phone, you whine at the headache plaguing you as you look through your texts, seeing a few that you had missed along with a couple phone calls.
[Missed call: Cheol at 11:30 a.m.]
[Missed call: Cheol at 2:16 p.m.]
Cheol: I talked to Gyu. He said you passed the fuck out. Call me later. Wish I was there. 😭
Mingyu: Going out with Shua and Jun~~ be back later. Love you 😙
Jeonghan: Are you awake yet? Let’s order room service.
Sighing, you tap Jeonghan’s message first, hovering over the keyboard before finally replying.
Y/N: I just woke up. Mingyu is out.
Jeonghan had been awake for about an hour longer than you so when you finally text him back, he glances down at his cellphone resting on his stomach with a soft smile. At least he had been smiling until you mentioned Mingyu.
Jeonghan: I know where he is. I wasn’t asking to order room service with him.
Y/N: Fine…
While you didn’t sound entirely convincing, Jeonghan wasn’t going to turn down the chance to spend some time alone with you. He knew where Mingyu was along with Dokyeom and he knew they would be gone, at least for a few more hours.
Sliding off the bed, you move into the bathroom to grab some pain reliever, making it back to the mini fridge by the time you hear the knock at the door. Leaning to pull the door open, you meet Jeonghan’s eyes before his gaze slowly moves over your frame and back up to your face as he slips into the room, closing and locking the door behind him.
“I didn’t think you were ever gonna wake up. I almost asked Mingyu to let me in before he left.”
Scoffing, you swallow your medicine with a gulp of water as you feel Jeonghan’s fingers sliding along your hip. You knew he was kidding, at least mostly. As far as you knew, he didn’t want anyone to know he was fucking you and you didn’t want to fuck up your friendship with him, no matter how much it hurt to be a dirty little secret.
“So he could ask you why?”
Shaking his head, Jeonghan lets you pull away from him as you move back to your bed, flopping down on it with a groan. He had noticed the medicine in your hand and he could see the way your brows were furrowed. He had known you long enough to know the signs of your headaches and when you weren’t feeling well. Sitting down next to you, Jeonghan runs his hand along your leg to the end of your shorts as you look at your phone, responding to the rest of your text messages.
“He could have asked why. I don’t care. You want me to just pick something for us to eat?”
Wrinkling your nose, lost in thought, you glance at Jeonghan as his fingers push under the leg of your shorts, a concerned look on his face. He was full of shit 90% of the time but there were times when the two of you were alone that he made your heart tighten in your chest.
“Mm, yeah. Just gonna call Cheol back and wait for this medicine to kick in.”
Nodding, Jeonghan watches you for a moment longer before leaning in to press a soft kiss to your lips, causing you to close your eyes and return it as your fingers barely hold on to your cell phone. There was no reason for him to kiss you.
When the two of you came up with the rules of your relationship, there were no strings attached. It had started out with no kisses goodbye, but that rule had quickly been broken. Then the no sleeping over rule had been broken more than once by both of you, and now Jeonghan was sending your brain into a frenzy with such a sweet gesture as he smiled against your lips before sitting back to take out his own phone, pulling up the room service menu.
Swallowing hard, you furrow your brows, lifting your fingers to press them against your lips as you make yourself pull your eyes away from the handsome man in front of you and back to your phone, pressing down on Seungcheol’s name. You knew it was late in Korea but not so late that he wouldn’t still be awake.
“Hey…didn’t think I’d hear from you today.”
Seungcheol’s voice makes you pout. You could hear the sadness in his tone as he leaned back in his gaming chair. You had offered to stay back and hang out with him but between his insistence that you go and Jeonghan’s whining, you had paid for your ticket, leaving an injured Seungcheol under the care of your other friends who couldn’t make the trip.
“Sorry, I was so tired from the flight. How are you feeling today?”
Scoffing, Seungcheol looks down at the brace on his knee before leaning his head back in annoyance, not really at your question but at the situation.
“Fine. Minghao went with me to rehab and then Vernon and Wonwoo hung out and played some games earlier.” Pursing his lips, Seungcheol glances out his window at the lights of the city, listening to the sounds of the traffic compared to the quiet sounds of your conversation. “How’s Paris?”
Jeonghan closes one eye in thought before turning his phone towards you to ask if his order was okay, only getting a nod before you sigh and give your attention back to the phone call. You had been disappointed when any of the group had been unable to come along but especially Seungcheol. He and Mingyu were like family more than they were friends and now part of your family had a torn ACL and was stuck in his apartment playing video games and eating takeout while you were visiting a foreign country.
“I’m glad they are taking care of you. We miss you. I haven’t seen much other than the back of my eyelids, Cheollie.”
You say we before you even think about what you are saying, causing Jeonghan and unknown to you, Seugncheol to furrow their brows. It wasn’t like you had lied; Jeonghan had wanted his best friend to come on the trip but it wasn’t like he knew that he was in the room.
“We…” Smirking to himself, Seungcheol shifts in his chair, reaching out to move his mouse across his screen to open his game back up, knowing he was going to end the phone call sooner than he had even anticipated. “Tell Han I said hi. Call me tomorrow. Love you.”
Groaning, you avoid Jeonghan’s eyes as he searches your face, seeing a look of embarrassment wash over your expression. Your relationship with Jeonghan was a secret from most of the group but it had been Seungcheol’s apartment that you had been making out with Jeonghan in and he wasn’t an idiot.
“Shut up… I–Cheol says hi.” Sighing, you watch Jeonghan lean his head back, realizing what had happened as you finished up your phone call. “Love you too; talk to you tomorrow.”
Lowering your phone, you meet Jeonghan’s eyes as he stares at you, tilting his head. You could see the question on his face but you weren’t sure you were up to answering it. Instead, you toss your phone down on the bed and groan as he watches your dramatics, putting his hand back on your thigh unable to stop the smile that pulls at his lips.
“We miss you, Cheollie.” You could hear the teasing in Jeonghan’s voice even as you lifted your arm to rest it over your face. “Why did he assume it was me?”
Groaning his name, you turn on your back, causing Jeonghan’s hand to slide to your inner thigh, where he lets it rest. You squirm slightly, feeling his thumb rub small circles along your skin as he watches you closely much to your dismay.
“Probably because Mingyu is out and he has already talked to him.”
You fail to tell Jeonghan the part about how Seungcheol also knows that you are fucking Jeonghan but he is nice enough to only tease you sometimes about how much it’s going to break your heart one day. Sliding your arm from your face, you sigh as Jeonghan’s fingers start to work into the tight muscle of your thigh. It felt good; it was a nice gesture but you knew there was an ulterior motive to it.
“We can’t do anything while we are here, Jeonghan. We have no idea when Mingyu will be back, and I don’t –”
An annoyed groan slipping from between Jeonghan’s lips makes you fall silent as he slides up in bed and between your legs to hover over you on the bed. Your heart was beginning to race from the image of him above you to the thrill of the situation. You really didn’t know when Mingyu was coming back from his outing and the food could be delivered at any moment.
“We are in Paris and you are going to lay on this bed and tell me that we aren’t going to fuck while we are here?”
Slotting his leg between your thighs, Jeonghan smirks when he hears a whine get caught in your throat. There were many things he loved but one of them was feeling the warmth of your pussy, clothed or not, against his thigh. He loved when you would instinctively start to buck your hips against his leg just from the desire to feel any sort of release because you had to chase it.
“Y/N…baby…princess…my beautiful angel…”
All the pet names that fall from Jeonghan’s silver tongue cause your fingers to dig into the comforter as you try to fight the urge to roll your hips against his thigh. You can’t help but lift your right hand, grabbing for something more substantial, and find Jeonghan’s shirt when you feel his lips press against your neck as he kisses up to your ear. With each kiss, Jeonghan speaks and allows his warm breath to tempt you even further.
“I might actually die if I can’t have you this entire time.” You knew he was being dramatic but you could also feel how hard Jeonghan was getting against your thigh so he was doing a good job of convincing you that he was telling you the truth. “We can be so careful. I’ll make it worth it.”
You knew he would keep that promise. Every time with Jeonghan was worth it. No matter how much you tried to lie to yourself, even the cracks that were starting to line your heart and the stress building in your mind were worth it.
Jeonghan whines your name against your jaw as his hand pulls your hips up and tighter against his thigh. He could feel the way you were starting to roll your hips and it made him want to lay on the bed under you and watch you ride his cock like that until he filled you full of his cum. He wanted nothing more than to keep you like this forever, to make this simple like it was in his head but his heart was making it complicated. His heart had made it complicated from day one.
“Bonjour, service en chambre.”
The voice of someone on the other side of the door and a stern knock pull you and Jeonghan from your lust filled haze quickly. With an annoyed groan, Jeonghan rests his head against your shoulder before nodding against it as the man announces himself again, trying to get any response from the room.
“Oui, une minute, s'il vous plaît.”
Meeting your eyes, Jeonghan takes a deep breath before sliding off the bed to adjust his sweatpants. You could hear the frustration in Jeonghan’s sighs as he ran his fingers through his dark hair, moving towards the door and letting you sit up on the bed. In reality, there was nothing for either of you to be upset about. He had placed the order so it wasn’t surprising that it was being delivered in a timely manner.
“Merci…”
The word falls from Jeonghan’s lips like venom as he takes the bags from the man before slamming the door in his face. Turning back to face you, Jeonghan gives you an incredulous look, finding you pressing your lips together and trying not to laugh at him. He didn’t find anything about the situation funny.
“I got cock blocked and you are laughing?”
Smiling, you reach your hand out to help Jeonghan with one of the bags, taking out the drinks and sitting them on the nightstand out of any danger of spilling, as he grumbles under his breath. You can’t help but laugh again, opening both straws and finding him pouting at you.
“You didn’t even offer him a tip. Are you that pissed off?”
Opening one of the containers with more force than necessary, Jeonghan grabs one of the forks, stabbing at a piece of pasta and lifting it to his lips, still pouting.
“Is your cock still hard and not wet, Y/N? Oh, that’s right, you don’t have a cock that gets painfully hard every time you look at your incredibly hot gi—friend.”
Coughing as he takes a bite of food, Jeonghan looks down as he almost slips up on his wording, hoping you won’t notice. You just furrow your brows, your straw pursed on your lips, as you watch him for a moment before taking a sip and tilting the drink towards him, offering it to him to do the same.
You weren’t sure what you had heard. You knew what you wanted to hear but at the same time, did you? What would that mean? So instead of lingering on it, you focus on the rest of his nonsense, letting Jeonghan off the hook for his slip up.
“No, I don’t have a cock but I do get horny. You act like girls don’t get just as horny as guys. It’s not my fault that I can just hide it better.”
Scoffing, Jeonghan leans towards you, taking a sip of your drink before turning his fork towards you to offer you a bite of the pasta, feeling the warmth that had risen in his neck and face starting to fade. Maybe he had just gotten lucky and you hadn’t caught the word he had almost used to refer to you or maybe you were just being nice. Either way, he wasn’t going to push the subject if you weren’t.
Watching you take the bite from the fork, Jeonghan lets his eyes move over your face, lingering on your eyes. You were so beautiful, it was painful, and he was being honest when he said he didn’t want to waste the time the two of you had in Paris. It would be a waste to fly so far and not indulge in you as much as he could.
You furrow your brows as Jeonghan’s eyes fall to the bed, the two of you eating mostly in silence until finally you are the first one to break the tension as you groan, rubbing your hand over your stomach with a grin on your face. Jeonghan can’t help but smile once again, feeling endeared by you as he takes another sip of drink before putting it back on the nightstand.
“Full?”
Nodding, you stretch on as Jeonghan works to close containers and cleans up, moving around your room. You watch as he glances back at you, his eyes moving along the length of your body, to the arch of your back when you whine into a yawn. Smiling, you reach for your phone, checking your messages, and at the same time feeling him lay on the bed next to you, slender fingers barely graving over your stomach, before Jeonghan slides his hand under your shirt to have contact with your skin.
“I’m not.”
Your laugh makes Jeonghan smile. The smile is genuine and full—not one of his half smiles that he would give to just anyone. No, this smile is one that is meant just for you. Reaching up to take your phone out of your hand, Jeonghan whispers your name and you can hear the need and desire laced in his voice like a question. With your brows furrowed, you can only meet his eyes and nod before his lips are back on yours.
Whimpered moans slip into Jeonghan’s mouth as his fingers slide under the top of your shorts and between your legs. It was one thing to feel you against his thigh and it was another to feel your wet pussy on his fingers.
Jeonghan groans into the kiss. He can’t help the smile that pulls at his lips, feeling you lift your hips towards his hand as his fingers spread your folds. Between breathy kisses, the sticky, wet sounds of Jeonghan’s fingers teasing you are all you can hear, even as you mutter, begging him for more.
“More? Like what? What do you want, beautiful?”
Squeezing your eyes shut tightly, you practically sob out a moan of frustration at Jeonghan’s question. You knew how much he liked you to tell him exactly what you wanted and he knew how much you just wanted him to give him everything. Pushing your head back against the pillow, you bite at your bottom lip only to have Jeonghan’s teeth pull it from yours with a dark laugh.
“What do you want, Y/N? My fingers or my mouth?”
Tears run from your eyes along your temples as Jeonghan’s lips press against yours teasingly. He was driving you crazy with his light touches to your clit, and it was making it hard to think and even harder to speak. Arching your back, you gasp Jeonghan’s name as his thumb and forefinger close around your clit, rolling the small bud between his fingers, waiting for you to speak.
“Ah–fuck! Both…please? Please, just give me both. I can’t stand it.”
It had been longer than Jeonghan would have liked since he had been in your bed and normally he would be more strict. Normally he would make you pick one thing and draw out your orgasm until you were begging him through tears for more, but just feeling your slick arousal on his fingers made Jeonghan weak for you.
Moving to his knees, Jeonghan pushes his fingers into the top of your shorts and underwear. You only manage a soft whimper of his name as he slides them down your legs and tosses them onto the floor before letting his eyes roam over you. Licking his lips, Jeonghan slides his hands under your knees, pulling your hips down in bed as he lays on his stomach so that your pussy is level with his face.
“Fuck…Jeonghan, please? Stop teasin—”
Running his tongue from your entrance to the top of your mound, Jeonghan silences you as he groans to your taste. It really had been too long since he had been between your legs and he was starving. The food had been nothing in comparison to this and he was feeling almost feral after a single drop of you on his tongue.
Long, slender fingers part your folds as Jeonghan moves his other hand from under your leg to circle your dripping hole with his middle finger as you moan his name. He could play you like a well tuned instrument and he knew every note by heart.
Turning his hand palm up, Jeonghan groans under his breath, feeling your warm, soft walls welcome in his finger and tighten around them. He could just imagine how good you would feel on his cock and it had him leaking profusely in his sweatpants as he willed himself not to rut against the bed, lowering his head to flick his tongue at your throbbing clit.
There have been few people in your life who made you feel as good in bed as Yoon Jeonghan and there were none who looked as good as him between your thighs. No one’s hair felt as good between your fingers as you held them against you; their lips wrapped around your clit as their fingers steadily pushed you towards heaven. No, that was only Yoon Jeonghan.
You tasted better than anything that Jeonghan could imagine. He had wanted this from the moment that he had walked into the room and now that he was lucky enough to be between your legs, he could feel his head going fuzzy with just thoughts of you. You were like a drug that he could never get enough of.
It was the feeling of your velvet walls clenching around his fingers as he pushed you over the edge and the sounds of your sweet little moans that caused Jeonghan to almost lose it. Words almost escape between his lips—three little words that could ruin everything. Closing his eyes tightly, Jeonghan buries his face against you to silence himself, enjoying the taste of your cum on his tongue until the sound of your phone causes him to furrow his brows.
Your fingers tear at the bedding under you as Jeonghan tries his best to pull another orgasm from you until the familiar sound of your ringtone starts to play from beside you on the bed. Gasping for a full breath, you glance over to see Chan’s face as Jeonghan looks up at you from between your legs with a disappointed look on his face.
“Let it go to voicemail.”
That was one option but if Chan was calling you, there had to be a reason. Whining, you slide your hand across the bed, listening to Jeonghan groan in annoyance, laying his face against your thigh as you do. Licking your lips, you catch your breath before putting your phone on your chest and answering the phone while speaking, hoping it will mask some of your labored breathing.
“Chan? What’s up?”
Closing his eyes tightly, Jeonghan shakes his head as you answer the phone, knowing he isn't getting laid now. First, the hotel staff had bad timing and now Lee Chan was cock blocking him. Glancing back up at you and the phone, Jeonghan shifts to his elbow, leaning to wipe his lips as Chan finally speaks up, his voice instantly breaking your heart.
“Y/N…I forgot my key. Soonyoung is in the room and won’t answer the phone. He’s still mad about earlier and you apparently have to have the key to get back into the hotel past a certain time.”
Rolling his eyes, Jeonghan lets out a light scoff, causing you to shoot daggers from your eyes in his direction. You could hear that Chan was drunk and you had always had a soft spot for the younger boys in your group of friends. You had taken on the big sister role very quickly and took it seriously. Throwing his hands up, Jeonghan mouths “what?” in your direction at the look of disappointment on your face at his reaction before you simply roll your eyes and slide off the bed to pick up your shorts, sliding them back up your legs as you speak to Chan.
“I’ll come down and let you in and then we will go talk to Soonyoung. Give me like five minutes.”
Tossing your phone back on to the bed, you move past Jeonghan as he whines your name, trying to grab your hand, only to find your fingers slipping from his. He knew he was being selfish but fuck, he felt like he deserved it just a little bit. Every once in a while, people could be a little selfish and enjoy the company of their— Even in his head, he couldn’t think of the right word to call you, so Jeonghan watched you from the bathroom door instead as you freshened up.
“Can we try again later?”
Sighing, you glance at Jeonghan through the mirror as he leans his head against the door frame, a look of disappointment on his face that almost shatters your resolve. You wanted to be less “easy” and say maybe or maybe not but instead you just nod and try to walk past him, feeling Jeonghan’s hand slide around your waist. Soft lips press against yours and you feel your knees start to give at the feeling and at how much you want to pull Jeonghan back into your bed.
“I’ll text you in a bit.”
Six words and Jeonghan leaves you standing in your room, feeling confused and lost. Only the sound of a text and a selfie of a pouty Chan sitting on the steps, asking for a rescue, pulls you back to reality.
Your fingers move along the rows of silk and satin on the rack as you purse your lips. It wasn’t that the dresses weren’t gorgeous. All of them were and all of them cost half of your rent. Mingyu lifts his gaze towards you as he pulls a shirt from a rack, putting it up to his body, before turning towards the mirror to judge his choice.
“You can’t tell what they look like unless you actually look at them.”
Mingyu was your favorite shopping partner. You found out years ago that he loved to shop even more than you did. He had a great eye for what would look good on you and you were grateful for that because you seemed to lack that ability.
“They are so expensive, Gyu.”
Nodding, Mingyu glances at the tag of the shirt held against his chest before sighing and draping it over his arm. You glance up at the man as he moves beside you, being a lot more thorough with the dresses than you had been.
“It’s my treat. We need to find you something pretty to wear for tonight. You are going out with Jeonghan, right?”
You feel the heat rise in your cheeks as you stumble over your feet, trying to take a step away from your best friend. Lifting his brow, Mingyu just smirked, taking one of the dresses from the rack—a long sleeved, soft mint green dress with a deep V neckline.
“I–Mingyu…first of all, no. I can’t let you buy it. Secondly, no… It’s dinner with Jeonghan and Dokyeom.”
Shaking his head, Mingyu moves closer, holding the dress up to you and reaching out with one hand to hold the long sleeve to your arm. Pursing his lips, Mingyu glances over his shoulder at the shop attendant, furrowing his brows, trying to remember anything he had practiced in French.
“Um… Excusez-moi. Salle des vêtements ?”
Smiling, you furrow your brows at Mingyu’s attempt to ask for a fitting room as the girl just smiles at him and lifts her brows, speaking in English as she gestures towards the back of the store.
“There are fitting rooms this way.”
Laying the dress over his arm along with his shirt, Mingyu shrugs before looking back at you as you laugh under your breath.
“What? What did I say?”
“You asked for the clothes room. I mean, not too far off.”
Sighing, Mingyu walks beside you before offering the pretty store attendant a dazzling smile before she leaves the two of you alone to try on your outfits.
“Well, it’s not like that’s the first time I’ve looked like an idiot in front of a woman. I don’t know how to say "fitting” in French.” Offering you the dress, Mingyu lifts his brows as you start to whine, looking at the price tag. “Try it on, Y/N.”
You slide your fingers over the silk, taking the dress from Mingyu, before going behind the curtain. The dress was beautiful. It was not what you would have picked for yourself just because you weren’t sure it was something you could pull off. The V of the neck was deep and would show off your collarbones. It would take at least ten minutes to button all of the buttons that led from your waist to your chest but by the time you were finished, you were even speechless as you stared at the mirror.
Adjusting the white button up over his chest, Mingyu turns to the side and nods at his appearance in the mirror before looking at the curtain you had disappeared behind. He knew you were going to look good but he also knew that your self esteem was going to get the better of you without a little push.
“Y/N…come on, get your ass out—oh…”
Words fall silent on Mingyu’s lips when you open the curtain, your leg peeking from the large slit that rests at the top of your thigh as you move into the center of the fitting room area towards the larger mirror where he stood. You were his best friend and more like a sister but he was also a guy at the end of the day and he had eyes. You were stunning.
“Is it awful? I told you that nothing in this place would look right on me.”
Shaking his head, Mingyu steps behind you, taking your shoulders to put you in front of the large mirror where lights would shine down on you, allowing you to see better how well the dress truly fits you. It hugged in all the right places and flowed in others.
“You are fucking beautiful. Yoon Jeonghan is going to lose his damn mind.”
Jeonghan couldn’t stop staring at you. He knew that the restaurant that the three of you had chosen to go to was nice but when he had met you in the lobby of the hotel with Dokyeom and you had been in that dress... Jeonghan had almost lost his mind.
You smile as Dokyeom walks beside you, his cheerful voice causing your face to light up like a star in the sky, while Jeonghan struggles to think straight. How could anyone be around you without wanting you? Jeonghan wasn’t sure how Dokyeom could act normal around you when you looked like you had stepped out of Jeonghan’s dreams.
Jeonghan was in love. He had known it for a while now but looking at you now, in that dress, under the Parisian street lamps... He couldn’t tell himself it was just lust anymore.
Glancing up at the sign for the restaurant, you can feel Jeonghan’s eyes on you. They hadn’t left you for the entire walk from the hotel to the restaurant. You felt like you were going to float away under his gaze but the only thing keeping you tethered to the ground was Dokyeom.
“The reservations are under your name, Y/N.”
Jeonghan’s voice brings your attention to him fully and you feel your cheeks heat up as if you were standing in front of an open flame. He looked incredible. You were all dressed up. The restaurant wasn’t incredibly fancy but it was considered fine dining so you all wanted to look the part. Jeonghan had chosen dark jeans, a dark button up with a jacket, and brown boots. Everything fits him perfectly and makes your mouth feel dry.
“Right…I’ll check in. Be right back.”
Two sets of eyes watch you but one lingers longer before Jeonghan finally pulls his eyes from the door to focus on Dokyeom with a long sigh.
“Y/N looks fantastic tonight, don’t you think?”
That was one way to put it. Jeonghan just scoffs into a laugh, lifting his hand to run it over his lips before nodding and narrowing his eyes, thinking about how to answer that question and what he even wanted to say. He knew what he wanted but he knew it would upset you if you found out. Fuck it.
“She looks beautiful.” Moving in closer to Dokyeom, Jeonghan watches the man lean his head back a bit, almost out of concern. His eyes widen as if the shorter man was going to hit him before Jeonghan smooths Dokyeom’s jacket and smiles. “If you make up a reason to leave now, I'll give you 50 bucks or literally anything you want.”
Laughing, Dokyeom tilts his head, thinking it has to be a joke, until he meets Jeonghan’s eyes and sees the serious look of desperation in them. He knew that his friend liked you but maybe it was reaching that point where he was willing to admit it to himself and you.
Swallowing hard, Dokyeom glances towards the door to see you smiling at the hostess, your eyes glancing towards him as you give him an apologetic look and say something else to the woman. There was no way he wasn’t going to get a guilt trip from you for leaving but if he didn't, Jeonghan might actually hit him.
“I–fuck man. Y/N is gonna be pissed at me. She’s the one who wanted us to all get dinner together, but...”
One more look into Jeonghan’s eyes and Dokyeom felt his excuse crumble. He could see how important this was to Jeonghan and now it felt important to him too.
“Yeah…alright. I’ll come up–”
“Okay! So she said, like ten more minutes.”
Stepping back from Jeonghan, Dokyeom clears his throat before smiling just a bit too big at you. You knew something was different but you just couldn’t put your finger on it. Jeonghan was pretty good at lying to you or at least at pulling something over on you but Dokyeom wasn’t.
“I am so sorry but I have to get back to the hotel. Rain check on dinner.”
Watching your face fall, Dokyeom feels his stomach tighten as you take a step towards him and he takes a step back, knowing that if you press him too much for answers, he will crumble.
“What? You were so excited. Why?”
Lifting his hands, Dokyeom gestures back towards the hotel and it’s as if you can see the gears moving in his head as he thinks of an excuse on his feet.
“Uh…Min–Mingyu. Yep, Mingyu texted me. He wants my help with something. So I gotta go, right now. Like right now. Bye!”
Starting to speak, you end up closing your mouth as Dokyeom lets out a squeal, quickly moving away from you into the flow of people heading away from the restaurant. Narrowing your eyes, you look back to Jeonghan, who rubs his lips together before smiling sweetly at you and lifting his hand, offering it to you.
“Looks like it’s just us, baby.”
Pushing your tongue into your cheek, you roll your eyes at Jeonghan before turning from his hand, realizing he must have had something to do with Dokyeom’s quick departure. You sigh as you feel his arms wrap around your waist from behind, Jeonghan’s chin resting on your shoulder as he smiles next to your ear before pouting.
“What? Are you mad at me? I didn’t leave.”
Leaning your head away from his lips, you hear Jeonghan let out a long sigh as you all but reject him again. Fingers tighten around your waist, pulling you back against him, and Jeonghan’s brows furrow deeply.
“Y/N…seriously?” A quick glance from you has Jeonghan leaning his head back with a groan before he nods, giving in. “Yes, I asked him to leave. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
Your features soften at Jeonghan’s confession. You had figured that he had asked Dokyeom to leave but you hadn’t really expected him to tell you. You had expected to argue with him to the point that he would lie about it and then tell you the truth around the time for dessert. What was different about tonight?
“I–what? Yes…I didn’t want you to lie to me.”
Jeonghan’s hands slide from your waist as he begrudgingly lets you stand on your own, as if coming to the realization that you don’t want to be held or to hold his hand. You watch as his eyes widen, a small smile pulling at his lips when you slide your hand along his.
“Mademoiselle?”
Glancing up at the woman you had spoken to earlier, you let out a soft breath, giving her a smile and a nod before leading Jeonghan along with you. He listens as you explain that your party has become two and she drops off a menu at the front before leading you and Jeonghan to a table near a window.
Watching you from across the table, Jeonghan takes a deep breath as you look down at your menu, his eyes moving as he tilts his head to see your legs crossed just off to the side of the table. He knew that he should be more civilized, perhaps more respectful but the way the dress was hugging your thighs and the way the slit of the dress was sitting so high on your leg was making his mouth water.
Licking your lips, you start to ask Jeonghan what he is thinking about ordering when you lift your eyes to find his eyes moving along your legs and up your body. The heat rises once again in your neck and up your face at the amount of attention he was giving you. You had known he had been looking at you but you hadn’t expected him to do it so obviously now.
Meeting your eyes and finding you watching him, Jeonghan grins, having been caught by you. He knew he should be embarrassed but instead, he just lets out a breath and shakes his head.
“You are so fucking pretty. I’m sorry… I can’t stop staring at you. That was why I asked Dokyeom to bail on dinner. I wanted you all to myself. I’m selfish.”
Shifting in your seat, you reach for the water in front of you, taking a sip at Jeonghan’s words. You hadn’t expected him to speak so candidly about his reasoning for why Dokyeom had left or why he was looking at you the way he was. You watch his smile soften and his gaze drop to his menu, allowing you a moment of clarity to take your own breath as you get a break from his attention.
“You are selfish.” Your voice is quiet and meek but Jeonghan smiles, letting out an amused breath before looking up at you once again as you continue. “You could have just asked me to dinner on your own.”
Jeonghan swallows hard at your words, his confident facade breaking slightly as he looks down at his menu. Clearing his throat, Jeonghan tries to think of the right words before he finally manages to meet your eyes again.
“Is it shitty of me that I’m afraid you’ll turn me down? So this way, we were all going out. You had more of a reason to be here.”
Your heart shouldn’t be aching the way it was hearing another confession from Jeonghan but it was breaking your heart. You didn’t know how to feel. You weren’t sure what he even wanted you to say. The rules had been clear. You were just friends. Has that changed?
“Jeonghan…”
The whine in your voice sounds similar to a rejection and Jeonghan can’t stand the idea of that so he just smiles and holds up his hands, happy to see the waiter standing beside you. He didn’t want to hear how he wasn’t good enough. He wasn’t Kim Mingyu or Choi Seungcheol. He already knew, but that didn’t make him want you any less. Maybe he could still prove it to you.
Jeonghan was thankful for the wine running through yours and his system as you laughed, leaning against his body. He knew you weren’t so drunk that you weren’t thinking clearly but you were feeling free enough that any of the earlier tension seemed to have melted away.
“It was so good. Those coffee truffles… Jeonghan, oh my god. Babe, will you go back and get me more?”
Hearing you call him babe was like injecting his veins with serotonin. Jeonghan nods before leaning to press a kiss to your jaw as you laugh sweetly. He would give you the world if you asked for it and laughed so beautifully for him like that.
“Mm, I don’t wanna go to bed.”
You pout into your words, looking up at the hotel, as you dig into your purse for your key and Jeonghan holds on to your waist with a grin. You were adorable all of the time but when you were even a little tipsy, you dialed up the cute factor by a hundred, making him melt at the sight of you. Sliding the key from your fingers, Jeonghan listens to your laughter as he taps it against the reader and pulls open the door as you thank him.
“Then we won’t go to our rooms yet. I know a place. I found it earlier.”
Jeonghan piqued your curiosity, causing you to tilt your head with a small, curious sound. Laughing, the man lets you lean on him as he walks to the elevator, still using your key to open it, before pressing the button for the top floor.
“Where are we going?”
You lean between Jeonghan’s legs as he rests against the elevator wall, the quiet beeps of each floor being passed acting as background music. Smiling, Jeonghan slides his hands along the soft silk of your dress to rest them on your hips, leaning his head back against the wall with a small chuckle at your question.
“Up.”
One final ding and the doors open to a long, quiet hallway. You lean back on your heels to look, making Jeonghan hold your wrists to keep you steady. The coast looked pretty clear; only a housekeeping cart and a few room service trays left outside the doors let you know to keep your voices down.
Lifting his finger to his lips, Jeonghan smiles behind his finger as you lower your head to suppress a laugh sticking by his side. The two of you sneak down the hallway, only stopping at the housekeeping cart long enough for Jeonghan to grab a blanket slipping it under his arm.
“Where are we going?”
The question once again slips from your lips as you glance back to make sure no one was following you and Jeonghan as he turns to the left to what seems like a dead end, a door leading to an emergency exit to the roof. Raising his brows, Jeonghan pushes the door with his shoulder and you wince, ready to hear an alarm but when nothing happens except the door opening, your eyes soften and your mouth falls open in surprise.
“Shhh, our little secret.”
Keeping your hand tightly in his, Jeonghan climbs the steps before pushing open a second door, causing you to gasp at the sight. From the roof of the hotel, you can see for miles on a clear night. The lights of the city twinkling and burning like stars and in the distance, even the Eiffel Tower greets you like something out of a movie as you let go of Jeonghan’s hand moving towards the wall lining the entire roof.
Jeonghan just watches you in awe as the wind lightly moves the dress around your legs as you rest your hands on the wall, looking out into the city. Sure, the city was beautiful but it had nothing on you. He had been to more places than most in the group but none of them compared to this... to you now.
“Oh my god... Jeonghan, this is so pretty. I’m so glad you found this.”
Hands slide around your waist as Jeonghan moves to stand behind you with a smile on his lips. He had wanted to wait a bit longer and just watch you but the urge to touch you was just too great. Leaning back against him, you laugh under your breath, sliding your hands over his, taking in a deep breath of the night air. This was perfect. If you could write out how you wish your life could be lived every day and every night, it would be like this. You would be in Jeonghan’s arms, looking out over a beautiful city. But that was a pipe dream.
Nudging his nose against your neck, Jeonghan furrows his brows, feeling your shoulders drop. He could sense your mood changing but he wasn’t sure why. All he knew was that he could and wouldn’t let something so perfect go to waste.
“Can we pretend?”
Jeonghan’s words, spoken against your neck, are almost so quiet that you have to strain to hear them but you close your eyes and furrow your brows in question.
“What?”
Pressing his hands tighter against your stomach, Jeonghan practically whines out his words, causing your heart to tighten and practically shatter.
“That we are more than this. Just tonight? That’s all I’m asking for. I know I’m not fucking worth it… but just pretend for me? One…fucking night?”
If he had any idea what he was asking you to do, it didn’t seem to show. You were already suffering with the arrangement that you had and now he wanted more without actually having more. It was almost unbearable and yet all you can do is whimper out a “yes” and a “please, Jeonghan,” like the pathetic woman you are. You say it because you are irrevocably in love with Jeonghan and you can’t admit it openly to yourself, much less to him.
Turning in his arms, you reach up to cup Jeonghan’s cheek as you feel his fingernails scratch along the silk of your dress at your waist. Dark brown eyes search yours for a short moment until soft lips finally connect with yours, taking your breath away.
Jeonghan was always a good kisser but there was something about this kiss that felt different. This kiss felt desperate, as if he was trying to make a point or to ingrain it into your memory forever, just in case there wasn’t a second chance.
You whine out a soft moan, stepping back from the side of the roof as Jeonghan catches your bottom lip between his. He feels your free hand tug at the front of his jacket as if you are trying to keep him in place but just a few more steps back, he finally stops before pulling away to pick up the blanket he had put to the side.
You watch as Jeonghan lays out the blanket, kneeling down, before offering you his hand to help you do the same. Now it made sense; of course he had a plan. He always did. He was the type of person to think three steps ahead of everyone and usually five steps ahead of you. Carefully moving down to the blanket, you let Jeonghan pull you into his lap, his free hand tracing the line of your thigh and tugging your dress up your legs so as not to cause your dress to rip on the way down.
“You look so fucking pretty tonight, baby. This dress…fuck… I love it but I—shit, I gotta see you. Wanna see you under the stars. Wanna fuck you under them.”
It was cliche and yet Jeonghan’s words had your cheeks on fire. The words had your breath quickening as you straddled his lap, feeling his fingers trying to figure out how to impatiently undo the dozens of buttons as he whined in annoyance.
“Goddammit… There are too many.”
Shaking your head, you watch as Jeonghan glances up at you, mischief in his eyes as he grabs either side of your dress at the front, trying to tug at it to make the buttons come loose. Reaching up to grab his hands, you whine, making him sigh at you, his tongue running across his lips as you pout at him, trying to make him see reason.
“I didn’t buy it... It was a gift from Mingyu.”
Pressing his tongue into his cheek, Jeonghan lifts his brows, learning where your dress came from. He knew deep down that there was nothing between you and Mingyu but that didn’t stop him from seeing red in that moment and it didn’t stop him from making a split second decision. The sound of expensive buttons being flung across the roof makes you gasp as you lean back, looking down at your ruined dress as Jeonghan groans, leaning to kiss over the lace covering your breasts.
“Jeonghan…What the fuck?”
“I’ll buy you another one. I’ll buy you a hundred more. Just don’t say his name again, not tonight.”
Muttering against your chest, Jeonghan shakes his head, sliding his fingers along your shoulders to push the dress down your arms before he looks up to meet your eyes. You see no sense of regret or remorse in his eyes, just lust and something else that you aren’t sure if you can name or that you want to.
Leaning your head back, you close your eyes, feeling Jeonghan’s lips move up the length of your neck towards your jaw. Chillbumps erupt along your skin as his fingers guide your dress down your arms, letting the material pool at your waist when you slip your hands from the sleeves.
“Then don’t leave me like this alone.”
You whine out the words so sweetly that Jeonghan smiles on your skin, a small chuckle escaping his lips before he sits back, shrugging off his jacket, letting you help him undo the buttons of his shirt. Your nails lightly scratch his chest as your eyes take in his handsome face. You had looked at him hundreds of times this closely before but this time felt different and on some levels, you knew this time would hurt your heart more in the morning.
Tossing his shirt to the side, Jeonghan reaches up to cup your cheek, leaning to brush his lips against yours with a soft sigh at the feeling of your kiss. You were giving into a feeling this time and he could tell. Furrowing his brows, Jeonghan uses his free hand to work open the clasp of your bra, feeling it give way as you arch your chest towards him, your hands holding tightly to his biceps as if grounding you to the roof and to him.
Cold air nips at your breasts when Jeonghan slides the lace from your body before warm breath walks across the same path. You feel his hands holding the arch of your back as your fingers push through his hair, a moan slipping from your lips at the feeling of his lips against your skin.
“Please, Jeonghan…”
Furrowing his brows, Jeonghan pauses, leaving his lips pressed against the soft skin of your breast, when you breathe out his name, begging for more. In what seems like just a span of a heartbeat, you find yourself on your back on the blanket, Jeonghan hovering over you, his longer dark hair framing his face as his eyes move over your face.
Lifting your hips, you find yourself shying away from Jeonghan’s attention as he slips the dress down your legs, a shaky breath escaping from between his lips at the sight of you bare in front of him. He knew it had just been a day since he had laid between your legs but every time felt like a privilege, especially this time.
“Holy shit, baby…”
Trying to turn your head, Jeonghan’s long, slender fingers stop you. In Jeonghan's opinion, there was no reason for you to look away or for you to be embarrassed by anything. You were perfect.
Another soft, “please...” reaches Jeonghan’s ears as his thumb brushes under your bottom lip, causing his brows to knit together just slightly. He had heard you beg before; he had even made you beg but he didn’t want to make you beg or want anything this time. Tonight, he wanted to give you anything and everything you wanted. Tonight he wanted to prove something to you, even if it was just pretend.
Watching Jeonghan nod and move back to his knee, your eyes fall to his hands as he lets out a deep breath, working his belt open with shaky fingers. Sitting up, you listen to how Jeonghan’s breath changes when your hands take the place of his, your fingers steadily undoing his belt and his jeans, before you meet his eyes through lowered lashes.
Jeonghan can’t help but smile, a laugh escaping from his lips on an exhale in reaction to even the smallest action from you. There was no denying that he was turned on but there was more to it that even he couldn’t explain in a single night. Shaking his head, Jeonghan moves to his feet, his eyes still on yours, as you watch from the blanket as he sheds the last of his clothes before moving back to his knees and back into your touch.
Leaning his forehead against yours, Jeonghan groans, feeling the warmth of your body against his as he lays between your legs. Sliding your leg along his thigh, you rest your knee at his hip and run your fingers along his arm, enjoying the feeling of the weight of his body even as you ache for him between your thighs.
Furrowing his brows, Jeonghan licks his lips when he tries to move, his hand pushing against the blanket and you cling to him, keeping him close to you. Meeting your eyes, he finds a desperate look in your eyes that he knows he isn’t going to be able to resist even before you speak.
“Just…please? Fuck me, Jeonghan, please.”
He hadn’t prepped you and he hadn’t touched you since yesterday but he could feel how aroused you were as his cock rested between your legs. Groaning, Jeonghan starts to shake his head in a feeble attempt to argue with you and reason with you but when you lift your hips and rub your pussy against him, every thought in his mind is lost. Instead, Jeonghan whispers your name on your lips as you kiss him and beg him again with your hand cupping his jaw.
Nodding, Jeonghan reaches between the two of you, lining himself up with you and listening to your breath hitch as he pushes into your tight walls slowly until he bottoms out, his hips resting fully against yours. With one hand resting beside your head, Jeonghan grips your hip with the other hand, resting his forehead against yours as he stays still for a moment to catch his breath as you clench around him.
The stretch is familiar and yet without the prep, though you had begged him to skip it, you find yourself needing the moment to adjust. Jeonghan wasn’t too big but instead, it was as if his body was made for yours and he filled you perfectly. Once the initial pain of the stretch faded, only the feeling of euphoria and the need for him to move remained.
Lightly scratching your nails against the side of his neck, you swallow hard to catch your breath before nodding and lifting your hips as if trying to urge him without words. Jeonghan groans into a soft chuckle of your name that sounds like a plea for mercy before you swallow the sound with a kiss as your lips find his.
Furrowing his brows, Jeonghan rocks his hips towards yours, filling you once again deeply, causing you to moan into the kiss. Each thrust sends the knot in your stomach to tighten, pushing you towards the edge and your orgasm. The way that Jeonghan seems to know your body and how he finds just the right angle wordlessly, moaning his name as tears gather on the rims of your eyes, makes your head spin.
“Baby…”
The pet name whispered against your cheek so softly that the tears that had collected in your eyes fell on a soft sob as you wrapped your arm around Jeonghan’s neck. You pull him closer to you not wanting him to see you cry from something other than pleasure. Closing his eyes tightly as his lips rest against the crook of your neck, Jeonghan hisses out something intelligible that he is afraid you might hear or he might regret as he feels you tightening around him, your orgasm ripping through you. There were three small words that he had tried so hard to keep to himself that could mean nothing or everything.
With a few more uneven thrusts, Jeonghan follows you over that edge, quickly pulling out of you to cum on to your stomach with a labored, breathy groan, his eyes searching for yours as you avoid him. He could see the tears that had streamed down your face and across your temples into your hair but he wasn’t sure if they were good tears or not.
Reaching up to wipe his thumb under your eye, Jeonghan opens his mouth to speak but the words are hard to get out. There was so much he wished he could say to you if he weren’t so stupid and scared, so instead he shifted to his other hand and wiped the tears from your other eye before using his shirt to clean your stomach silently.
After a few moments, silence was deafening, and you felt like you were going to scream if one of you didn’t speak. It had never been this quiet after you and Jeonghan had fucked but then again, it had never felt like that before. Swallowing hard, you look up as Jeonghan finishes buttoning his shirt, your dress mostly covering your body.
“Jeong—”
“Y/N…”
Both of you stop speaking. Having spoken over one another, a smile lifts at both of your lips and Jeonghan shakes his head, leaning down to pick up his jacket before he moves to put it on you. Moving around you, he meets your eyes as he zips up the jacket before leaning to press a kiss to your lips and you feel your heart beat hard and fast like it’s going to burst or break. You aren’t sure which will happen first.
“Let’s get you to bed. It’s late and I’m sure Mingyu will call the cops if he wakes up and finds you missing from your bed.”
Nodding, you feel Jeonghan’s fingers slide against your hand before his fingers lace with yours and he leads you back towards the door and back to reality, where the two of you could stop playing pretend. You feel the tears once again prickling at your eyes. Sniffling, you will the tears back, at least until you are safe in bed and away from Jeonghan’s watchful eye.
Jihoon lifts his brows as you swirl the wine glass in front of you thoughtfully before taking a sip. You glance towards where Soonyoung is talking to a pretty lady showing him another bottle of wine before you once again frown into your glass. It wasn’t like you to be so quiet or to look so down.
You and Jihoon weren’t as close as some of the others in the group. In truth, you and Soonyoung were closer but over the years, everyone had grown up. Personalities had changed and around a year ago, you had found yourself picking up the phone to text or call Jihoon more often for advice or just to talk.
“Wanna join us for this wine tour, Y/N? You scheduled it.”
Looking up from your glass, you meet Jihoon’s eyes with a look of surprise and guilt. You knew you had been more distracted and distant all day but hearing it from Jihoon’s mouth snapped you back to reality.
“I’m sorry, Jihoon... just a lot on my mind.”
Nodding, Jihoon takes a sip of his wine, glancing towards Soonyoung, who seems oblivious to not only the conversation but any of the tension as he accepts a different glass of wine.
“I can tell. Maybe you need to just tell Jeonghan how you feel about him.”
With your own glass sitting against your lips, at Jihoon’s words, you choke on your wine, watching the man smile and take another sip as if he had just told you about the weather. The sound of your coughing is finally what draws Soonyoung back to you, concern on his face as he pats your back, leaning to look at you closely.
“You okay? Don’t drink it so fast.”
“She’s fine, Soonyoung.”
Nodding, you try to agree with Jihoon but Soonyoung takes the glass from your hand, leading you towards one of the empty tables, making Jihoon follow with a sigh.
“I’m okay, I promise.”
Gesturing his hand out towards you as if to say, I told you so, Jihoon takes the seat across from you as Soonyoung sits beside you, his brows finally relaxing.
“Okay… you wanna keep going?”
Jihoon watches you closely as you consider the question, your eyes falling to your phone in your hand. When you take longer than he feels necessary to answer, he purses his lips, leaning forward to rest his chin on his fist and looking towards Soonyoung, meeting his eyes. The two share a quick, silent conversation.
“I–I mean, yeah, course —”
“I think Jeonghan canceled his plans on Shua today too.”
Blinking a few times at Soonyoung’s words, you take a breath before leaning forward to rest your head in your hands. The warmth of Soonyoung’s hand running along your back is as soothing as it is humiliating as his words echo in your head.
“Y/N… It’s not a big deal.”
Scoffing, you sit up, sniffing back any emotion that has come to the surface, before you look at either of your friends with a shrug. You had been careful. Clearly, Jeonghan had been the one to fuck up but maybe you could still keep this a secret on your part.
“What? Why would I care what he’s doing today?”
Smirking, Jihoon lets out a breath that sounds more like a chuckle as he leans back in his chair, causing you to look in his direction. Meeting your eyes, the man lifts his hands in disbelief at your attempt to lie.
“Really? That’s how you are going to try to play this?”
The look on Jihoon’s face made you want to smack him but you tried to keep a look of indifference on yours. Sighing, Soonyoung just shakes his head, resting his arm on your chair behind your back, tilting his head towards you.
“You are dating him, aren’t you? I mean…kinda what it seems like. He’s all over you and if anyone even looks at you for too long, we get a death stare from him. Even Mingyu…” Smiling, Soonyoung lifts his hand from the chair to brush under his nose, amused as he speaks. “Especially Mingyu.”
Sighing as you lift, you reach for your wine, taking a sip of it and lifting your shoulders in mild defeat. Soonyoung wasn’t telling you anything you didn’t know. After last night and the state of your dress lying in your suitcase, hiding from Mingyu, you knew that Jeonghan had the wrong impression of your relationship with him—or he just didn’t want to understand it.
“It’s not my fault he can’t control his face. At least this isn’t my fault.”
Sharing another look with Soonyoung, Jihoon smiles at you before finally laughing as he looks down at his fingers around the stem of his wine glass.
“Uh, Y/N, you both fucked up if your goal was to keep your...” Furrowing his brows, Jihoon meets your eyes, looking for a bit of clarification, getting none before he continues. “Relationship, a secret.”
Now it was you who needed the clarification. You couldn’t think of a single time that you had been careless enough to make your relationship with Jeonghan as obvious as Jihoon was making it seem. Lifting your brows, you whine Jihoon’s name, making the man lower his head and nod before he continues with his explanation.
“About a month ago, you called me around like, fuck, two in the morning. You were wasted and I’m pretty sure you were hanging out at Cheol’s.” Sighing, Jihoon looks at Soonyoung as if looking for moral support as he continues. “You said something about wanting me to keep a secret about Jeonghan. No matter what I said, I couldn’t stop you, so you told me you were sleeping with him.”
There wasn’t enough wine or water in all of Paris to help the way that your mouth went dry at Jihoon’s words. You knew that you got drunk with Seungcheol on occasion and you also knew that there were a few times you couldn't remember the night before. You also knew there were nights you would see phone calls or texts to friends, mostly Jeonghan, that you couldn’t remember the next day, but never in your wildest dreams did you imagine you would do something like what Jihoon was recounting for you.
Wincing in embarrassment for you, Soonyoung watches you stare at your wine glass for a full minute before you slide your purse on to your shoulder and clear your throat.
“Uh… I’m so fucking sorry, Jihoon. I’m sorry to both of you. For today and for that night. Fuck…for any night that I have done anything stupid like that.”
When you start to stand up to leave, Soonyoung reaches out to take your hand with a frown on his face. You close your eyes, feeling his thumb press against your palm as he grounds you to the moment, his voice soothing you like his hand had rubbed your back moments before.
“No one is mad at you or upset. Honestly, not many others really know. Some of them assume something is up but personally, I just want you both to be happy. You clearly like each other.”
Closing your eyes, you swallow hard feeling tears that threaten to fall as they collect behind your lashes. It wasn’t that simple, but neither of your friends knew that. Shaking your head, you carefully pull your hand from Soonyoung’s.
“I’m just a phase, Soonie. I–I gotta go. Have a good day. Sorry…”
Barely meeting Jihoon’s eyes, you see him start to speak as you reach up to wipe away a tear as quickly as it falls before you slip past a group of people moving into the winery.
“Fuck.”
Nodding along with Soonyoung’s one word response to your exit, Jihoon sighs as you walk out of the door. He felt like he could have handled the situation better but he hoped you needed the push.
Watching Jeonghan from his bed, Joshua lifts his brow as Jeonghan sighs for the umpteenth time. They had plans to go on a walking tour, to see the Eiffel Tower, the Seine River, and maybe even get some food before the end of the day, but now Joshua was feeling like those plans were changing.
Lifting his hand to rub at his eyes, Jeonghan tries to push you from his mind and the tears he had seen on your cheeks as he had walked back to your room with you. He tried to forget the sad smile you had given him as you said goodnight and handed him back his jacket—the jacket he was thinking about putting on for the day. Now the jacket was lying on his bed, and he had stared at it, sighed at it, and walked away from it multiple times as his best friend watched thoughtfully.
“Did the jacket offend your family?”
Laughing into a breath, Jeonghan slides his hand down his face and over his lips as he shakes his head. He knew Joshua was trying to lighten the mood and make him laugh but he had no idea what was really going on. As far as Jeonghan knew, no one knew about his arrangement with you—well, besides Dokyeom but he was clearly just observant.
“Nah…just not sure I wanna wear it.”
Sighing, Joshua purses his lips as Jeonghan picks up the jacket and brings it to his nose, taking in a breath before shaking his head. Either he hadn’t washed the jacket in a long time or something else had happened with it that he wasn’t telling Joshua about, which only meant one thing.
“So, did you wanna tell me what's going on? This have anything to do with the texts I’m getting from Jihoon about how fucking depressed Y/N seems today?”
Furrowing his brows, Jeonghan looks down at the jacket in his hands. It smelled like you, not just your perfume but just you and he knew if he wore it today he would be even more lost in his head. Joshua’s words pull him back from his thoughts but only make him put up an instant facade as Jeonghan smiles and shakes his head.
“Huh? What do you mean? Is she, uh, she okay? Should I text her?” The facade starts to crack the moment he tries to talk about you; no matter how good of a liar Jeonghan could be when it came to you, it was becoming harder to pretend. Licking his lips, Jeonghan looks down and manages to continue what he was saying. “I’m not sure what I could say to help her, but I could check on her if you think I should.”
Laying his jacket across a chair, Jeonghan shakes his head at his own weakness, knowing he must look like an idiot. As Joshua just sighs and sits up on the bed. He knew that look even without actually seeing it. He had been best friends with Joshua Hong for nearly a decade; they were closer to brothers than friends at this point and if there was anyone that it was difficult to lie to, it was him.
“Stop. I’ve pretended not to notice because you two obviously wanted to keep it a secret but I know you better than almost anyone.” Tilting his head, Joshua watches Jeonghan scoff as he listens to him speak. “I thought you would just tell me when you were ready but something happened, so just fucking talk to me, man. I hate seeing you miserable. I don’t like seeing Y/N upset either.”
Reaching up to once again pinch the bridge of his nose like he is getting a headache, Jeonghan moves back to his bed, sitting down on it with a loud sigh. The sigh was one of defeat mixed with relief as he finally met Joshua’s eyes and nodded.
“I fucked up. I could have fucked anyone else and it wouldn’t have mattered but it’s been her.”
Joshua’s shoulders lift as he takes in a deep breath, getting confirmation of what he had assumed to be true. He knew things had been different for months but he also knew that even if Jeonghan hadn’t wanted to admit it to you or to most of the others, he had had a crush on you for years.
“Okay… So, like last night or?”
The question hangs in the air until Jeonghan tilts his head and winces out of embarrassment and anxiety. Joshua had known the answer to his own questions but that hadn’t stopped him from hoping this wasn’t as messy as it seemed. With the look on Jeonghan’s face, he knew it was a potential tangled web that could lead to the end of friendships.
“Shit–I..okay, I mean, I figured, but...”
Scoffing in disbelief, Jeonghan leans over his knees, putting his head in his hands. Had he been that obvious. He knew he had gotten a little jealous lately and maybe a bit more careless when it came to how he was acting towards Mingyu, but otherwise he felt like he wasn’t that transparent.
“I assume you aren’t dating.”
Shaking his head, still unable to meet Joshua’s eyes out of fear of what he will find in them, Jeonghan runs his fingers through his hair and closes his eyes.
“But you are, and correct me if I’m wrong here. You are in love with her.”
Fingers dig into his scalp hard as Joshua says the words out loud so flippantly. Narrowing his eyes, Joshua leans forward to watch Jeonghan as he processes what he had said before he sits up and slaps his hands down over his thighs with an unamused laugh.
“Because I’m an idiot.” Rolling his eyes, Jeonghan still avoids Joshua’s as his voice wavers even slightly. “You know we came up with rules? I came up with most of them when we decided to do this.” Pushing his thumbs into the meat of his thighs, Jeonghan lets out an unamused laugh as he seems to bask in his stupidity and the levity of the situation. “All because I wanted her to agree to sleeping with me because I thought that was the only way I’d get her to be with me.”
While Joshua could see how, where, and why the arrangement came to be, it still made him sad as he watched his best friend breakdown. He had never been in a similar situation and he didn’t think of you in the same way, but he did see how Jeonghan looked at you.
“Why would that be the only way? Why didn’t you just ask her out?” Scoffing, Joshua gestures towards his friend as if trying to get him to see reason as he speaks, his voice kind but firm. “Why don’t you ask her out now?”
Now Joshua was being ridiculous. He knew his best friend was intelligent—perhaps one of his smartest friends—but that idea sounded akin to driving his car into the ocean. Jeonghan wasn’t sure what he would do if he knew for sure that you didn’t care about him in the same way.
“And risk losing one of my best friends? Are you fucking insane? She doesn’t like me like that, Shua.”
Standing up, Jeonghan starts to pace. The weight of Joshua’s eyes is heavy but somehow it is still a comfort, even when he knows that he is frustrated with him. Narrowing his eyes, Joshua looks away from Jeonghan after a moment to look at his phone, seeing a text message from his group chat with Jihoon and Soonyoung. Lifting the phone from the bed, he scoffs under his breath, glancing towards the man in front of him as Jeonghan gnaws at his thumbnail, lost in thought.
"Clearly, she does. Jihoon said she’s not going to make it through the wine tour with them.” Glancing back down at his phone, Joshua texts back as he speaks quietly, knowing Jeonghan is still paying attention to him. “And I know we aren’t going out. You two need to fucking talk.”
Jeonghan’s mouth starts to open, only to close when he meets Joshua’s eyes as he looks over his phone. He knew it wasn’t a suggestion but the idea of it was terrifying.
“Figure it out, Jeonghan. Don’t throw away your friendship and the potential of something else over your pride.”
Sliding off the bed to stand up, Joshua pats Jeonghan on the shoulder, making sure to meet his eyes and see some understanding behind them before heading to the door.
You hadn’t necessarily needed a shower after your failed trip to the winery, but the hot water running over your face and body felt good and it had washed away your tears. The only unfortunate thing was that it only lasted as long as you stayed in the shower and as you sat on your bed, skin still slightly damp under loose clothes, you felt the weight of everything pushing back down on you.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. There had been rules to stop any of this pain and yet from the first time that you and Jeonghan had slept together, there had been pain. You had known then that you should have stopped but you didn’t want to. You didn’t want to stop that time or any other time after it, not even last night, as your heart felt like it was breaking into two. It was only the day after you felt like the most idiotic person on the face of the planet, thinking you could have more with someone who didn’t love you back, that you regretted it all.
Maybe it was time to end it.
Leaning to pick up your cell phone, you stare at Jeonghan’s name for a moment before pressing your thumb down over his name and putting the phone to your ear, listening to it try to connect. Closing your eyes, you take a breath, only to furrow your brows a moment later when you hear his ring tone as if it's just outside of your door.
“Hey, let me in, please.”
His voice was quiet but you could still hear him from two places, your phone and on the other side of the door. Taking a breath, you look at your phone, hearing the sound of a phone call ending knowing that he is waiting for you to open the door.
It was a simple task. Get up, unlock the door, open it, and greet Jeonghan, but as you looked at the door, knowing he was on the other side after everything that had already happened today and after what had happened last night it felt like you were preparing to scale Mount Everest.
With one last deep breath, you move to your feet, take the few steps that feel like miles to the door and open it to meet Jeonghan’s eyes. You weren’t sure what you had expected to see when you saw him. Perhaps you had expected the usual with him—his handsome face and cocky smirk on his face but instead you were met with a solemn look and dark circles from a restless night.
“I just… can we talk?”
Nodding, you step to the side, letting Jeonghan move past you into the room as he pushes his hands into his jean pockets, only to take them out again out of nerves. Jeonghan had always been one of the most confident people you had known but today looking at him, you were seeing a different man.
You were seeing the man that you saw late at night when he buried his face against your neck and muttered sweetly about it being the best place on earth. You were seeing the man who made you cry after those moments when he wouldn’t call you until three days later, seemingly just disappearing. This was the man who kept you on an emotional rollercoaster.
“Yeah…I think we need to. I have something I wanna talk to you about too.”
Closing his eyes for a few seconds, Jeonghan feels his heart in his throat before he tries to put on a facade, not knowing that it’s cracked, when he turns to look at you, offering you a sad smile.
“Yeah? You…you–uh, wanna go first then?”
Maybe after what Joshua had told him, he didn’t have to be the first one to say it. The words were so terrifying to him. Those words made him feel like you were going to run away from him and losing you as a friend and a lover was enough to make him feel like his chest was going to explode.
Shaking your head, you lift your brows, offering Jeonghan an unamused laugh as you move back towards your bed to sit down, pulling your legs up to criss-cross them under you. Watching him move towards you, Jeonghan pauses to meet your eyes before he sits down apprehensively beside you.
“Sure… I’ve been thinking and I love – “ The words get caught in your throat but Jeonghan hears the word love, causing him to sit up, only for his heart to pound in his ears as you keep speaking. “Loved the sex but I don’t think I can do it anymore. You–We said we could call it off at any time.”
The words make sense to Jeonghan but it is like he is in a tunnel where the wind is too loud for him to actually pick up on the sound of your voice as he stares at you, seeing your lips moving. You were asking to stop. You wanted to end it. That wasn’t what he thought you were going to say even if it made sense with the look he had seen in your eyes last night and with what Joshua had said earlier.
“Jeonghan? You—I mean… It's nothing serious. That’s what you said. You’ve made that very clear, several times.”
A smile pulls at Jeonghan’s lips before he laughs but you can tell he isn’t happy and nothing is funny. You know Jeonghan well enough to know when he is deflecting and when he is in pain. Shaking his head, Jeonghan looks down at his hands before closing his eyes, muttering to himself something you can’t quite make out.
“What? You were too quiet, I couldn’t –”
“I just said—I said I’m stupid.”
Neither of you move; the room is silent as you watch with furrowed brows as Jeonghan reaches up to wipe under his eye, keeping his face hidden with his dark hair. You had seen Jeonghan cry before over serious things but something like this—the loss of a meaningless relationship—wasn't something you thought he would be upset over. You, on the other hand, felt like you were breaking as you watched the man you loved be upset, feeling like you couldn’t do anything to help him.
“Don’t say that about yourself. You’ve done nothing –”
Scoffing, Jeonghan glances at you, making you pause when you see the disappointment on his face. Sitting up, he turns towards you, starting to reach for your hand. He stops short, closing his hand into a loose fist and resting it on your knee.
“I have done everything wrong, so I know you want to be nice and tell me to be kinder to myself but, Y/N, I’m so fucking stupid. Is it not painfully obvious that I am in love with you?”
You look at Jeonghan with the same expression as you would a complex piece of literature. It was as if he had just tried to explain your feelings back to you, making you feel exposed to the sun. Shaking your head, you try to come up with the right words, only to let out a soft exhale of Jeonghan’s name, looking away.
Finally scooting closer to take your hand in his, Jeonghan feels the hole in the pit of his stomach struggling to fill as he tries to salvage what he feels like he has ruined. Lifting his other hand, Jeonghan timidly dares to run his fingers along your jaw, turning your face towards him so he can meet your eyes once again.
“I told you yesterday that I don’t deserve this... I don’t deserve you and I meant it, but baby, I love you so fucking much.” Swallowing down his emotion, Jeonghan licks his lips as he searches your eyes, trying to gauge your reaction, his hand trembling against your neck. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry that I did it like this. I told you, I’m stupid.”
It wasn’t fair; none of this was fair. It wasn’t fair that you felt like melting into Jeonghan’s touch or that you wanted to run away from him. It didn’t feel real and you had never imagined that Yoon Jeonghan would fall in love with you. You were just his stupid friend that he happened to be attracted to, but now he was telling you that everything you felt, he felt too.
“What the hell, Jeonghan?”
Your voice causes Jeonghan’s eyes to close; that whine in your voice sounds like the rejection that he was so terrified of. You look over his handsome face, feeling his hand fall from your neck when you make the leap, leaning forward to brush your lips against his.
Jeonghan gasps at the feeling, his hand reaching back out, holding the back of your neck and pulling you in closer, your lips firmly against his as he furrows his brows. He knew that if you actually wanted him to let you go, he would. He would give you anything you wanted. He would have given you anything from day one if he hadn’t been so afraid.
Resting his forehead against yours, Jeonghan listens to your soft breaths, your hands now clinging to the front of his shirt as if to keep him close to you. You hadn’t said anything back but right now he wasn’t sure he even needed you to; he just needed to know that you wanted him and you didn’t want him to leave.
Lips brush against your cheek before Jeonghan whispers your name like a question, sitting back to look at you, searching for his answer. A nod and look of desperation in your eyes is enough for him to pull you into his lap and have his lips back on yours as his hands roamed your back under your shirt, feeling your skin under his fingers.
Whining his name once again, you run your fingers through Jeonghan’s hair as you arch your chest against his, feeling chill bumps erupt along your skin at his touch. There was nothing that you wanted more than that feeling, the feeling of his hands on your body and his lips on your skin.
Whispering “please,” you meet Jeonghan’s eyes as he groans, feeling you roll your hips over his. This hadn’t been his plan but he wasn’t going to deny you. He could feel his cock starting to get hard with every gentle grind of your hips over him and you were driving him crazy while making him fall in love with you all over again as he stared up at you.
“I’ll give you whatever you want—everything—anything; just ask for it.”
Moving to your knees, you rest your hands on Jeonghan’s shoulders, tilting your head to press your lips to his once more before speaking against them as you feel his hands rest under your ass.
“Make love to me then, that’s what I want.”
A breathy moan escapes from between your lips when Jeonghan lays you on your back and hovers over you, brushing his thumb across your cheek while admiring you. He had looked at you before but now he was wondering if he had ever really looked at you. He was noticing little things about the color of your eyes, freckles on your face, and how his heart was beating so hard.
“I love you.”
He had told you that he was in love with you but it was different hearing him say it that way and while he was looking at you like this. It felt real. Closing your eyes you feel the familiar tears start to well up in your eyes causing you to fight them as you reach up to hold Jeonghan’s wrist in case he were to change his mind.
When tears do finally run from the corners of your eyes along your temples, Jeonghan takes a deep breath leaning to rest his forehead against yours letting you cling to him. He knew now that the tears last night were sad like he had feared. Making a silent promise to himself to make up for it, Jeonghan kisses you gently, his thumb brushing away some of your tears as he speaks against your lips quietly.
“I love you, Y/N.”
You nod, nudging your nose against Jeonghan’s as your hands move to find the end of his shirt, working it up his torso. You feel the way his stomach tightens under your fingers when he takes a deep breath before sitting back to let you pull his shirt over his head.
The fabric falls from your fingers onto the bed, your eyes moving from Jeonghan’s face over his chest and down his stomach to where your fingers rest on the top of his jeans. Taking a deep breath, Jeonghan leans his head back to the feeling of your gentle touch and the much needed relief as you work the zipper of his jeans down.
“Fuck…Let me take care of you this time. Please?”
Meeting your eyes, Jeonghan is happy to see the way you bite at your lips, your pretty smile pulling at the corner of your lips as you tilt your head on the bed to look at him almost innocently. Nodding, you lift your hips, letting Jeonghan shimmy your shorts down your legs. Licking his lips, Jeonghan kicks his jeans and boxers away. His eyes stay fixed on you, studying you as if you were a piece of art to be admired.
“I love every part of this and if you want me to make love to you, let me do it right.”
Arching your back, you let Jeonghan slide your shirt up and over your head. He was once again really looking at you as he moved back on to the bed and between your legs. You were bare in front of him and everything about you was perfect as he studied your body. He took note of every single mole and even the smallest of scars, stopping to kiss them on the way to lying between your thighs.
Warm breath causes you to close your eyes and push your head back against the pillow. The first brush of Jeonghan’s tongue between your folds allows the tip of it to tease your clit, make your toes curl and gasp his name.
Getting a taste of you had never been enough for Jeonghan and this time he was going to enjoy it as if it were the last time, just in case it was. He wanted you to remember the way his name felt on your lips. He wanted you to remember how his mouth felt between your legs and how his fingers felt buried deep inside you as he curled them back towards your stomach, making you arch off the bed.
You gasp for a breath between moans. Reaching between your legs, you thread your fingers in Jeonghan’s hair as you push your hips towards his mouth, hearing him groan against your folds. He knew you inside and out and yet he had never made you cum so hard and so fast before.
“Oh my god, Jeonghan, I can’t—ah!”
Using his thumb to rub circles against your clit, Jeonghan watches you lift your hips, searching for your second orgasm, as he licks your cum from his lips. When you fall apart for a second time on his fingers, Jeonghan furrows his brows, cursing under his breath at the sight. There were few things on Earth that were that beautiful.
Fingers carefully slip from you, making you whine at how empty you suddenly feel but once you glance at Jeonghan resting between your legs, sucking his fingers clean, you moan, lifting your hand to cover your face. He was such a handsome man and he was doing something that seemed so dirty.
Smiling, Jeonghan tilts his head while watching you cover your face. He loved that no matter how much dirty shit had come out of your mouth in the past or how much the two of you had done, you always seemed so innocent. You were perfect in his eyes.
Carefully pulling your hand from your face, Jeonghan presses his lips to your knuckles, looking down at you. You can’t help but notice the way your body heats up at the simple action and the way your heart tightens seeing him smile against your fingers.
“You are so beautiful; don’t hide.”
Pressing your lips together, you can only see Jeonghan’s gaze as he moves your hand back to the bed beside your head, his thumb pressing to your palm gently before he lets go completely. You were used to Jeonghan being more rushed with you. Not necessarily rough but you both knew what you liked in bed and it wasn’t that he was treating you like he was now; it wasn’t something you didn’t like; it had just never been on the table. How he was treating you now was intimate; he was treating you like a man in love, like he said he was.
Brushing his lips against yours, Jeonghan smiles, feeling you do the same. He didn’t think there was a need to rush anything, especially if he was going to treat this like it might be the last time. You hadn’t told him how you felt and though he was hopeful, he wasn’t going to put words in your mouth.
You moan softly against Jeonghan’s lips. The tip of his cock nudges against your entrance as his hand runs along your outer thigh to your knee and Jeonghan urges your leg up towards his hip. With his free hand, Jeonghan holds himself steady even as he groans on your lips, feeling your warm, wet walls pull him in and clench around his cock.
Wrapping your leg around Jeonghan’s back, you let your head fall back, his thumb pressing against your skin just under your knee as he thrusts into you slowly and deeply. Pulling him in closer with your leg wrapped around him, you whisper Jeonghan’s name when he doesn’t start moving immediately. You knew that he liked to let you adjust but your desire for him was outweighing anything else.
Nodding, Jeonghan moves his hand from your leg to cup your cheek, resting his forehead against yours as he rocks his hips to meet yours in a smooth, deep thrust that makes you moan out a sound similar to a sob. Jeonghan could tell the difference now as tears started to fall from your eyes, these tears were from pleasure and not because you were sad. These tears he would want to see any day of the week. Jeonghan would die to hear you sob his name as you clenched around his cock and begged him so sweetly not to stop.
“I’m not, baby… you are so fucking perfect. Holy shit, I know I —” Groaning as he feels you clench hard around him, Jeonghan pauses to take a breath before burying himself inside of you as deep as possible feeling your thigh tremble as it rests against his side. “I know I’ve said it a few times now…but I love you. Fuck, I love you, not just this but you. Need you to understand that.”
Your fingers scratch as Jeonghan’s shoulders as you feel the pressure building and the cord winding tighter and tighter as he pushes you towards another orgasm. It’s only his words that keep you grounded and make you whimper his name as you pull his mouth to yours to make him stop talking when you fall apart for him once again.
Trying to breathe into your kiss, Jeonghan furrows his brows tightly, feeling the way your pussy hugs him and then tightens around him like a vice when you cum around him. His thrusts slow only for a moment before becoming harder and filled with even more purpose as Jeonghan starts to chase his own release.
A choke groan gets caught in his throat when Jeonghan cums, filling you with each one of his thrusts. Your fingers dig into his shoulder and bicep, leaving half-moon divots to mark where you have been as he pushes you towards the headboard with each deep thrust.
Soft lips walk across your throat and up to your jaw before finally making their way to your lips, pulling you back to reality. Jeonghan listens to your small whine when he slips from you once again, leaving you empty. Your arms and legs felt like they were being held up by strings until they were finally on the mattress and you found it hard to make them move again, causing you to pout and Jeonghan to laugh softly against your lips at your reaction to how tired you are.
“Tired, baby?”
You nod, leaning your head into Jeonghan’s palm as he brushes his hand over the side of your head and over your hair. Even with your eyes closed, you could feel his eyes searching your face for answers and you knew it was the one he was looking for. You hadn’t been ready to give it to him at first but the more you lay in his arms and even considered anything different, the more your heart told you that you already knew.
“I love you, Jeonghan.”
Finally hearing you tell him that you love him, Jeonghan closes his eyes and leans forward to rest his face against the crook of your neck with a sigh. You can almost feel the weight lift from him as he nods against your skin, placing a kiss on your neck before muttering quietly against the column of your neck.
“I love you, too.”
With his headphones half on his head, Mingyu stands in the doorway of his shared hotel room only for a moment before groaning and lifting his hand to cover his eyes at the sight in front of him. He had assumed that you and Jeonghan were together and after talking to Dokyeom, he knew even more—he knew more of the drama behind it—but clearly, that was hopefully a thing of the past.
He just hadn’t wanted to be privy to it.
Glancing towards the door and hearing the sound of a groan, you smack Jeonghan’s shoulder, causing him to look in the direction of your shocked face. Nothing of what had happened had been the plan, or else he would have told Dokyeom to keep Mingyu out of the room.
“Gyu! Can you go? I am trying to do something here if you don’t —”
"Literally, stop talking to me while you are naked. I’m gonna go stay in Dokyeom’s room.”
You watch the door close, hearing the lock click in place, before meeting Jeonghan’s eyes, who shakes his head like Mingyu has done something wrong.
“He didn’t know. Why are you mad at him? This is his room, Jeonghan.”
Jeonghan silences you with a kiss making you sigh against his lips as he speaks between kisses.
“I’m not mad.” Seeing you smile, Jeonghan kisses you softly once more before cautiously adding, “I just didn’t want him to interrupt my first time actually getting to fuck my girlfriend. Is that so wrong of me?”
Narrowing your eyes, you feel your cheeks burn at Jeonghan’s choice of wording but you still can’t keep the smile off your face, feeling his fingers running along your stomach as he moves to lay beside you, pulling you into his arms.
“Oh? Is that what happened? Is that who I am?”
Jeonghan nods, wrapping his arm tightly around you, pulling you on your side to face him so his fingers can draw small circles on the small of your back as he looks into your eyes.
“I fucking hope so.”
Sitting on Dokyeom’s bed, Mingyu stares at the wall while Dokyeom stares at him, wondering what happened, until finally his friend looks at him and shudders in a full body cringe.
“They were naked and possibly—you know. I will never be the same.”
Making a face, Dokyeom pats Mingyu on the back before tilting his head and shrugging.
“Well, it’s about damn time but better you see it than me.”
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#jeonghan smut#seventeen smut#svthub#svt smut#jeonghan angst#seventeen angst#svt angst#jeonghan fluff#seventeen fluff#jeonghan romance#seventeen romance#jeonghan comedy#seventeen comedy#seventeen
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be still my heart — jjk [two]
the one in which Jungkook lets his imagination run wild and you confront Jimin about your past.
genre : childhood best friends to enemies to lovers, physical therapist!reader x hockey player!jungkook, slow burn, smut, fluff, angst
word count : 5.1k
chapter warnings : strong language, kissing, jungkook is again nervous around Destiny. That's it i guess lmk if i missed anything.
a/n : ohmygod the first part got so much love i just couldn't wait to post this. This one is a bit intense. I love my babiest baby jungkook so much. Please enjoy my lovely people and remember you're so loved :> feel free to send asks. kisses.
Jungkook
During Jungkook’s college days, there was a guy named Oscar who’d sit beside him in class with his round glasses resting on his face. He would bunk classes almost every day which led the ever so curious Jungkook to follow him one day in order to find out what’s so special that he’s even willing to bunk classes for? Listen, the nerdy Jungkook thought bunking classes is bad manners. Don’t come at him.
Eventually, he found himself watching Oscar playing the guitar inside the vacant auditorium and he can swear he’s heard nothing more melodic than that. He figured the guy escaped so he could do what he loves. It was his passion.
If someone were to ask him, what’s his passion? Jungkook would say, Hockey. It pumps him up, it brings him back to life. He was born to do this.
He has seen his older brother playing hockey for as long as he can remember but trying the sport for himself? That never came to him, until his brother thought handing out a hockey stick to a 15 year old would be funny.
Newsflash, it wasn’t funny and as much as he doesn’t want to, Jungkook has no option than to give him the credit for him being here. It’s only right. The moment he held that hockey stick it was like the clouds parted and angels started singing.
This life right here is something he has built with hours and hours of practice, diet, diligence and working himself out until he’s a sweaty mess.
It’s not like every other 28 year old’s life, it’s different as well as demanding but every other 28 year old is also not being thrown into the penalty box like him right?
On a good day he would even call himself a conflict-avoidant guy until it comes to his teammates. Then, he’s an animal, ready to tear down every motherfucker who dares to touch them. Dramatic? he doesn't think so.
Yes, they piss him off but they’re a team, it’s a unified responsibility that they have. You stop at nothing to protect your own. The spark of defensiveness is bound to come to the surface given he's the defenseman of the team.
This is why he’s in here, trapped behind this glass shield as he watches the guys do their worst performance till date. The forward of the opposite team tried to get a fight started making Jungkook see red. His instincts led him to act immediately. He had to do something to put an end to it and breaking the guy’s nose seemed like a nice option.
The lions are not an easy team to play with, they’re hard hitters and show no mercy. That’s what coach has been telling them ever since they landed here. Seems like nobody listened. Fuckers.
Sweat drips from his hair as he watches the game, ears filling up with screams behind him.
“Jeon Jungkook I’ll have your babies”
“Jungkook you’re so hot it makes me insane”
“Oh god this man will be my death”
“He can slap me and I’ll thank him”
God help him. The thing is, the shitshow before him is not the only reason behind him being a mess today. Destiny has been… weird lately. At the risk of sounding like a goner, she’s not acknowledging him at all, like at all.
She used to grab the seat in front of him on the plane whenever the team flew for the games but this time she didn’t so much as look at the poor guy let alone sitting before him. Is she hurt because of last time? Did he fuck up again? This proclivity of fumbling every time he’s around her needs to be checked.
“Dude, we couldn’t have held a candle to them.” says Taehyung.
Ah yes, the guys lost the game if it wasn’t predictable enough and now the coach will have their heads on a platter ready to serve. Well, he doesn't want to do that any more than Jungkook himself does.
Jungkook gets rid of his shin pads, placing them on the bench. “Try saying that in front of coach”
“He’ll understand”
Yoongi glares at him, “The fuck he will. He’s been in our faces telling us how wild it might be over there. Who listened? Because you sure not did, Tae”
Taehyung chuckles in disbelief, propping his hands on his waist. “Dude, you’re targeting me as if I was the one breaking noses and all.”
He gives Jungkook a side eye. Oh he’s so gonna get Tae later.
“You might as well have. And as for you,” he glances at Jungkook, "I'll just hope you come back in one piece."
“Alright, cut it out” Namjoon says as he slips into his practice jersey. That’s so like him. Heading straight for practice after a big game, whether or not they win.
He’s one of the most dedicated people Jungkook has ever seen and you can’t generally get a praise out of him like this.
He blocks out their bickering and focuses on getting out of his hockey pants. A sharp pain shoots up in his knee making him cringe. That’s strange. He doesn’t remember his knee getting involved in the ruckus. Anyway, he makes a mental note of letting Destiny know about it and not repeat the same douchebaggery.
“Hey bud, you doing okay?” Namjoon asks as he’s rubbing the painful spot.
He looks up, “Yeah it’s… it’s just a slight pain. Might be a cramp for all I know”
He pats Jungkook’s shoulder in support, a kind smile plastered on his face. “I hope so and hey, don’t be picking fights like that anymore. You understand?”
Jungkook is quick to defend himself. “But that asshole–”
“I know,” he nods, “Just be careful. That’s all I’m saying. Let it be your last.”
He gives up, nodding his head. “Yeah. I’ll resist”
Namjoon is right. Jungkook did not pick a fight and he knows it. He also knows that Jungkook is always ready to come at his players’ defense, however that might be.
After all, it all boils down to a nasty fight on the rink which is nothing to be surprised about. There have been plenty of fights down here, some resulting in broken limbs and some going as far as a person on a stretcher.
˚୨୧⋆。˚
Nightclubs are hands down Jungkook’s least favorite spot ever. He hates the smell, he hates the crowd and he hates how loud everything gets. If it weren’t for Yoongi, he would be at home chilling or overthinking. No one can tell.
Although, he’s not sure if he can even call that four walled room his ‘home’. It’s not home, it’s just a place he was given to stay at when he joined the federation and while he’s more than grateful for it, an empty, emotionless space where he only exists in can’t be qualified as a home.
However, he can’t stop wanting a place which is only his. A place he can share with someone he loves, wakeup next to her, cook with her, make memories with her. A home overflowing with laughter and giggles only.
Clearly, that murky ass house can never live up to that expectation not when it consists of a bathroom smaller than his fist, a bedroom which can’t fit more than 3 people at once and a kitchen he, for some reason, can’t get himself to cook in. He believes someday he’ll have that albeit the wait.
“Do you think I’m joking?” Taehyung’s voice is louder than ever before because of the surroundings. Sitting beside Namjoon as his hands fist a glass of old fashioned, he acts like he just spilled the most expensive beans.
He dramatically places one hand on his chest and turns to Jungkook, “Dude, tell him. Tell him how I got my dick pierced last week”
A chuckle leaves him, “Better yet, you can lose those pants and give him a live show”
The guys break out in fits of laughter.
“Don’t act like you haven’t seen my dick already, you twat. I did it for my girlfriend alright? Was this close to tattooing her name too but didn’t,” he holds up his thumb and forefinger to show how much,
“I don’t want my guy to swell and look like I accidentally got it stuck between a door or something.”
From his peripheral vision, Jungkook spots Destiny walking up to them looking like an absolute goddess. She’s wearing a shoulder strapped bodycon dress tonight with her hair curled in such a way that it makes her face look more feminine. He has seen so much of her in those scrubs that she’s doing things to him now. Hold your damn horses, Jungkook.
The poor guy can’t so much as look at her for too long or he’ll get hard. That’s something he can’t allow himself to do right here when all his friends are gathered. They’re never gonna let him live that down.
Maybe, when he’s alone he can fuck his hand with the thoughts of her taking him into that sweet mouth she’s got a bold red lipstick look going on. His cheeks turn crimson and he fights back a smile.
“Hey, guys” she greets them as she tucks a hair strand behind her ear. A gold hoop adorning her. God, she’s trying to kill him. She's like Jungkook’s own version of heaven.
The guys all smile up at her like she just asked them to give her a foot massage. Meanwhile, her eyes never land on Jungkook.
“Jimin, can I steal you for a second?” she hesitates.
“Sure” Jimin places down his drink and stands up. He walks up to her and rests his hand at the small of her back making Jungkook’s smile drop. Nice, he's getting jealous over a kind gesture now. Next thing you know, he'll be ending anyone who dares to breathe in her direction.
Namjoon shakes his head as he follows them both with his gaze. “Am I the only one who thinks they’re fucking?”
Yoongi dissolves into laughter while Taehyung spits out his drink. Almost. Jungkook? He finds nothing funny about it but refrains himself from saying something stupid in the heat of the moment.
“There’s some tension, yes. Can’t say anything about the fucking part though” says Yoongi.
“What do you think?”
“What?”
“Do you think they’re shagging?” asks Taehyung in a hushed voice.
“I think you assholes need therapy” With that he rests his own glass of drink on the table and walks away. Their voices calling out to him become more and more faint as he goes on.
He needs to find out what is it that gave rise to this sudden change in Destiny and if he’s the reason for it. His stomach churns as soon as the thought of her having something going with Jimin crosses his mind.
The guys were joking back there and given their proclivity of joking around, he takes their statements with a grain of salt. Howbeit, he can’t help but wonder the same.
The worst thing of all is he doesn’t have any right to feel this way. She’s not his and she might never be for all he knows. So maybe this is for the best, maybe if she keeps on discounting him like this, it would be slightly easier to forget her. Right?
˚୨୧⋆。˚
Destiny
“What do you think you’re doing? This is a men's bathroom?” A guy who must be in his early twenties nearly pokes his finger in Jimin’s eyes. His gaze darts over to you as he gives you a disgusted look.
Jimin levels him with an intimidating glare, “Why don’t you mind your own damn business and we’ll be good. Yeah?”
He flashes you another appalling look, his nose flaring before he walks out. For a second you might even endorse with the guy but in your own defense, the club is buzzing with commotion and there was not a single space Jimin and you found where you both could have a proper conversation without anyone bumping into you. You spent quite the money on this dress and it'd be bummer to ruin it. It’s insane how crowded it is. So, here you are.
Jimin turns to you, his fingers still laced through yours for the sake of your safety. “I’m sorry for that”
You snatch your hand back. “No it’s totally fine. I mean it’s not usual for a guy to bring a woman in here” an awkward chuckles leaves you.
“It is”
Your smile drops, “Huh?”
“They do bring women in here. Well, let’s just say they do everything except have a talk”
Of course they do. God, this is more awkward than you imagined it would to be. You could die of embarrassment right now but if you don’t clear things up with him, it would be more humiliating to simply exist around him. You roll your shoulders back, plucking up enough courage.
“Let’s discuss the elephant in the room, shall we?”
He steps closer to you, just enough to catch you off guard but not enough to knock the breath out of your chest. There is someone else who's been doing that job lately.
“What elephant Destiny? The one about us having the best time together or how you left me the next morning? Alone and pathetic” he demands.
Well, knock me down with a feather.
Your mouth parts in shock, “I left you? You sneaked out, Jimin and you know it”
You wonder if he’s gonna come clean about that. If he’s gonna stop blaming you and take accountability for once. You guys did have the best time together and as short lived as it was, you regret nothing about that night until this point.
Now that he stands in front of you, accusing you of being so cowardly that you dared to leave him, it makes you question your own integrity.
He takes another step forward, automatically making you take one back as he searches your face. “So where were you when I woke up? Where were you when I reached my hand out and didn’t find you lying next to me, huh?” his voice barely a whisper.
Enough. You wouldn’t have bothered to stop the scream that’s begging to leave you had someone pointed a gun at your head. A gal can only take so much before she snaps.
“I WAS OUT THERE SEARCHING FOR MORNING AFTER PILLS”
The vacant bathroom echoes with your own words. The words you were holding back from saying out loud.
“I went in search of those, Jimin. Apparently, that’s what you’re supposed to do when you fuck each other and not take necessary precautions”
He stills, backing off as if you had slapped him. A heavy silence hangs in the air around you.
Jimin’s eyes flash with barely contained astonishment as he looks around trying to find words. When he doesn’t say anything, you take it as an opportunity to continue.
“You weren’t lying about us having a great time together. I accept that, we did have fun and I don’t regret it which honestly, I’m not so sure of now.”
A quick look of hurt passes through his face before he recovers.
“I was planning on staying back too oh… how badly I wanted to stay back but you have to understand that I was also at the prime of my career as a professional physical therapist. I couldn’t afford having a child, Jimin. Back then even the thought scared me. So, I left for a while, mentally promising you to come back. You were sleeping so soundly and you looked so beautiful and I didn’t want to disturb you—”
Your words come to an abrupt halt as he takes a long step towards you, backing you up against the white wall behind.
It’s not the same, your chest is not rising and falling rapidly like it did back then. Gosh, you couldn’t even speak in front of him. This time you’re immune to his eyes, his closeness and his warmth. Is this what they call healing?
“You should have” his brown eyes flash with hunger, “You should have disturbed me, Destiny. I would have woken up, ate you out, maybe fucked you again while wearing a condom, cuddled you and then accompanied you to the medical store.”
Oh fuck no, this is not happening. You’re not getting yourself back into this situation where he charms you with his mere words and leaves you cold. You deserve better than that.
You push him back with your palms on his chest, “Maybe, but I think I wouldn't have it any other way,”
You look straight into his eyes and nowhere else to make him feel how serious you are, leaving no room for uncertainty.
“Bella, my assistant, keeps saying that everything happens for a reason. It’s written up there," you point your forefinger up, "I feel the same about what went down with us. There was a reason why you left, there was a reason behind me not bothering to wake you up."
A bitter chuckle slips through your mouth, “Although, I can’t seem to grasp why the hell are you here?”
The way your heart is beating inside your chest, you might end up on a ventilator. It’s because you haven’t had much control of anything in your life, this feels particularly massive. This is one way for you to take back control, because it’s your choice and yours alone.
You try not to let the tears spill, “I asked you to spare me a few minutes just so I could talk to you about it but this isn’t how I imagined this conversation to go, Jimin. Regardless of that, I need you to do me a favor”
He holds your gaze. “What favor?”
You clear your burning throat, “I’m requesting you to please not initiate any conversation about our past with any of the guys. That could pretty much cost me my job and yours.”
He offers you a stern nod, “You have my word”
With that you turn and walk around just like you always do and always should when it’s time. Only this time, you don’t feel victorious. Instead, the feeling of utter shock rushes through your body because standing outside is the only person you had been avoiding to say the least.
You flinch. “Jungkook?”
He’s leaning back against the cold wall with his hands inside his front pockets, head hanging low. You can’t make his face out because of the darkness.
He frantically lifts up his head when he hears you calling, looking as surprised as you, “Hey, I— wait, why are you coming out of the men’s room?”
You shift on your feet, folding your hands in front of you. “What? OH !! Well, I had some business with Jimin and this felt like a nice place to.. you know”
You can’t talk for the life of you. How do you explain yourself to him without word vomiting? But then you think better of it and just shake your head.
“You know what? Never mind that. What about you? Why are you standing here like someone just broke your heart?”
No fucking way did you just say that. What is this? A bollywood movie? You immediately feel like you hit a nerve when his face falls, causing you to curse yourself.
He’s silent for a moment before he stands up straight. “You could say that”
“Wait, really?”
Yet again you’re struggling to breathe, a spark of curiosity threatening to rise up. Why do you care about his heart? He’s been all but rude to you every day since you’ve begun working by his side so why would you care if someone put his bloody heart in a blender? You have been assigned to take care of his body, what happens unrelated to that is none of your business.
Except, you do. There is a teeny tiny part of you that cares. Though, you can’t say if it’s the doctor inside of you or something else. Something which could ruin you and save you all at once.
“Who is it?” you ask in a small voice.
His eyes rank behind you and he pulls you close to him by grabbing your arm. You see a man passing by, faltering on his own under the influence of probably the sheer amount of alcohol inside him.
When you look up, you have to swallow a gasp. Jungkook’s face is so close to you, you can almost count his moles. The one under his lips is begging to be kissed and you hold yourself back from grabbing him by his jacket as you kiss the hell out of him.
Wait what?!
He looks down at you, his eyes burning with something you can’t pinpoint. It’s like a mixture of anger and adoration. Soft lips brush your temples as your heart beats out of your chest.
“It’s not safe here. Why don’t you go join Bella? If I break another nose it’ll cost me good”
You lean back, still in his arms. It would be nice if you get out of his hold. You should shove him away too exactly like you did with Jimin but for some reason, you can’t. His hold is safe, cozy. It reminds you of your grandmas cookie recipe. Warm and lovely.
“Another nose? Did you get into a fight?”
He breaks away, turning his back to you but you clutch his forearm as you hold him back before he can bolt.
“You know the PR is gonna make your life a living hell. What did you do?”
His jaw sets instinctively as he looks at you for a moment before speaking.
“Destiny, if you don’t want me kissing that sweet mouth of yours and imprint my name on it for once and for all, get the fuck out of here.” he rasps.
That's it. Flashbacks of that night and that fucking dream consume you. It doesn't help at all that he looks so dashing tonight in all black. Black leather jacket, black pants and his black boots. You're having visions you shouldn't have. They're nice. Farfetched but nice, nonetheless.
You release his hand like it will set you have you combust if you keep holding onto it for even a moment longer. You turn around, with the intent of getting out of his proximity when his voice stops you.
“Destiny”
You don’t turn around because something is telling you if you do, you will never be the same.
“My life turned into a living hell the moment you stopped looking at me”
˚୨୧⋆。˚
Jungkook
Jungkook is dying.
Figuratively, of course.
He should have taken Destiny seriously when she said that the PR is going to make his life miserable once he gets to know about the mess he had made. His phone is buzzing on the kitchen counter. He knows who it is but he doesn’t pick up.
Instead, he just waits until it stops ringing. Jungkook can see it all playing out in his head. He will be called to the PR’s office as soon as he enters the academy and the PR is gonna ask him why he did what he did, Jungkook will then tell him that he's a a man of virtue, he will ask him to repent and tell him to fuck off. Very classic. Been there, done that.
He drops his head low, palms splayed in front of him. Calling last night chaotic would be an understatement. He said things he shouldn’t have and heard things he hoped he wouldn’t. It was not deliberate, of course. He would like to call it a spur of the moment.
Alright, he was fucking jealous. There he said it. He was jealous of Park Jimin because that man was touching who Jungkook had been longing for, he was talking to the women Jungkook had been begging to look at him once and allow him to breathe.
When he reaches the academy, he quickly asks about Destiny’s whereabouts and goes on to find her. He thinks his knee needs to be discussed because he can’t risk not playing the next game.
He's not sure if he's prepared for the uneasiness that's about to welcome itself but– god if you’re listening, help him, he prepares himself as much as he possibly can.
Raising his hand to make a fist, he knocks on her office door. This would be his first time inside, if she would even let him in.
“Come in” her voice reaches Jungkook.
He takes a long deep breath and pushes the door wide open. Stepping inside he looks at her sitting in her chair with glasses resting on top of her button nose. She looks so adorable. He doesn’t think he has ever seen her with glasses on but he approves.
“Jungkook? Is everything okay?”
Is it? Why is she acting like everything about last night was a dream? Did I imagine it all? Jungkook wonders.
He slips his hands inside his front pockets and nods, “My knee is acting a bit weird. I wanted to get it checked. See if there’s anything serious.”
She takes her glasses off and rises to her feet. Pointing to one of the chairs, she says, “Sit down and let me have a look”
He does what she asked as he leans back to make himself comfortable. An eerie silence surrounds them, making every inch of Jungkook's body stiff as he grips the armrests of the chair a bit tighter. He doesn’t let it appear that way of course. He’d rather die.
When she’s satisfied, she gets down on her knees and looks up at him. The visual is lethal but not something which he hasn’t already imagined.
He's not entirely proud to say that he has had the privilege of seeing her on her knees in his dreams, in the darkness of his bathroom, in his fantasies. He's seen it all but the real sight nearly makes him blow his load.
What do you think happens to a man who witnesses a queen getting down on her knees for him? Ask Jungkook. Mentally thanking himself for not wearing the sweatpants, he prepares to answer any of her questions.
“Do you wanna tell me what caused this?”
“There um, there was a fight back at the game. I felt a slight pain in the changing room but didn’t think much of it. Thought I’d let you know about it.”
She smiles, “Well I’m proud of you for that minus the fighting part. I’m sure you’ll be discussing that in the PR’s office”
As she’s examining any possible pulls or cracks, he thinks about apologizing to her about last night. To be very honest, he's tired of this awkward silence every time he's around her. Not talking is one thing, walking on eggshells around each other is another. He wants her to behave the same way she does with the rest of the boys.
“Destiny, I needed to talk to you about something”
She looks up again, her eyes filled with curiosity.
“Sure. Was something else hurt during the fight?”
“What? No. I wanted to talk about last night”
She stiffens as her mouth forms an ‘O’ shape. Fuck, why is his heart beating so fast? Wait, is he sweating?
Then she shrugs, talking in a casual tone. “I don’t think it’s worth talking about”
“Why?” Jungkook can’t help but ask.
“Well,” she smiles but it doesn’t reach her eyes, “You and I both were drunk and people do stupid stuff when they’re drunk so.”
“There was not a single drop of alcohol in my system. However, whatever I said was in the spur of the moment.” he says wording his previous thoughts, “I shouldn’t have talked to you like that. I’m sorry”
She’s quiet for a moment before she lowers her head and mumbles something.
“WellIhadasexdreamaboutyousoweareeveniguess”
He lowers down his own head, trying to listen clearly, ‘What was that?”
“I said I had a sex dream about you so we’re even” as soon as the words slip out of her, she claps a hand over her mouth. Her eyes wide as saucers. Meanwhile, he just sits there wondering if he heard her right or his brain is as fucked as his knee.
His mouth goes dry as he keeps looking at her. He feels like someone just dumped a bucket full of ice water on his head. She had a sex dream about him? When? How was it?
“It was uh okay”
Kill him, kill him now because he said that out loud. See, this is what he means when he says he messes up every time he's in front of her. That’s exactly what the last thought that crosses his head before he pulls her by the back of her neck and smashes his lips on hers. Fuck it, he can’t take it anymore.
When she kisses him with the same amount of passion and hunger, he resists himself from hoisting her up on the table and eating her sweet cunt. She matches every movement of his lips. Hers suck his before his take her pink and pillowy ones.
Within seconds, he has her caged in his arms. A low moan slips past her lips as she clutches onto Jungkook's shoulders for support, his fingers digging into the sides of her waist. Is this what feels like to kiss Kim Destiny? Is he actually touching and tasting her?
She tastes like cherries and bubblegum and he swears he's tasted nothing sweeter. He wants to have this taste every day on his tongue, and wants to remember it till the day he takes his last breath. Maybe, even longer than that.
He pulls back and cups her cheek, running his thumb along her lower lip as she catches her breath. She’s got her eyes closed, her chest rising and falling against his. Jungkook can feel her hard nipples through her scrubs.
Someone shakes him by the shoulders and he snaps out, blinking rapidly. He looks around and finds himself sitting on the very chair Destiny asked him to but when a feminine voice calls out his name, it's not hers.
“Well, watching my best friend on her knees in front of my step brother was not the visual I thought I needed”
Turns out, it takes a lot to make that someone up there 'happy' because standing in front of him is his only step sister. It's hilarious how unpredictable life happens to be. After all, not only did he imagine kissing Destiny after she told him about her little sex dream but will now have to figure out how to face his sister without wanting to hurl himself out the window.
Can he catch a break?
Taglist - @keylime4eva @xumyboo @jash719 @dmstoyangyang @pitchblack0309 @withluvjm @chaelvrx @httpjeonlicious @lovingkoalaface @rpwprpwprpwprw (ilusm and thank you for reading <3)
#jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook#jungkook#jungkook fanfic#bts#jungkook scenario#jungkook smut#jungkook scenarios#jungkook x you#bts x reader#jungkook imagine#bts scenario#bts fanfic#bts scenarios#bts smut#bts jungkook#jungkook fluff#jungkook angst#jungkook drabble#jungkook series#jeon jungkook x reader#jungkook oneshot#fluff#caramelkoo
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nothing's gonna hurt you baby II part 1 || joe burrow x reader
description: loving what you do doesn’t always mean it loves you back—it takes more than it gives sometimes
a/n: oh my GOD this is so long. it wasn’t supposed to be this long 😃😃😃😃. pls don’t hate me lol. this might have been the longest time i spent writing a fic too which is insane but i mean the word count speaks for itself HA. i really hope this isn’t total shit. but, so sorry I kept you all waiting for so long!! i really hope this was worth the wait :) i took my time with this one!
also, huge huge thank you to @sofferaddict for inspiring a chunk of this fic! you’re ideas and requests were PERFECT and i hope I did them justice :)
warnings: angst, language, allusions to sex, smut at the end (👨🚲 does this make sense???)
word count: 28.5 k (IM SO SORRY YALL-)
nothings gonna hurt you baby mini series master list (previous parts found here
——————————————————
Walking into Arrowhead Stadium always creates a complex mix of emotions for you; a rich blend of excitement, nervous energy, and uncertainty. It was a feeling that seemed to linger in the air for hours to come, creating an atmosphere charged with both anxiety and thrill. This mix was a given considering the matchup that was taking place, Joe Burrow vs Patrick Mahomes. It was two of the best in the league going against each other, a rivalry that had captivated the entire football community and had become one of the most talked-about spectacles in recent years. Whenever the Bengals went head-to-head with the Chiefs, the tension was electrifying yet frightening. But it wasn't about fear of losing—true fans knew the Bengals were the Chiefs' biggest rivals for the past 4 years and were their biggest threats—it was more about fearing how intense this game would be, but that also created excitement. The excitement came from knowing that this matchup promised to deliver an intense, high-energy, and nail-biting game that would leave everyone on the edge of their seats.
However, this time, you were feeling more excited than usual. Normally, you’d be on the verge of throwing up while walking through the concourse at Arrowhead, the bright red seats in the stands acting as a warning sign that forcefully caught your attention as if something urgent or dangerous was about to happen in the next few hours. This time, however, the bright red seats produced a feeling of comfort and nostalgia, like everything was back to normal while also reminding you of the memories you had here in years past (some sweeter than others).
You weren’t sure why, but playing the Chiefs made things feel like they were truly back to normal, despite the terrible loss against the Patriots the week before. Maybe it was because Joe always played his best against KC, so this game might just light that fire inside of him he so desperately needed last week. Or maybe it was because you knew how last week's loss put the entire team on notice so today's performance should be near perfect and push things back on track since they knew what narratives were being tossed around in the media right now.
Whatever it was, the bottom line was that you felt relaxed and confident—a complete 360 from how you felt last week before the game.
And you weren’t the only one who felt this way today. Joe did too.
For real this time.
Flashback to last night
“I miss you,” he softly said over the phone and pouted as you moved your phone back into your view and flipped over to your stomach on your bed.
“I just saw you a few hours ago,” you giggled. “I drove you to the airport,”.
“Yeah, I know,” he said while leaning back against his hotel bed's headrest. “But I miss touching you and feeling you next to me. That thing we did in the car was nice but that only made me more…you know…after we were done. I just miss you, all of you,”.
You felt your cheeks heat up at his words, remembering in vivid detail what transpired in the car before he left to go board the plane. What started as an innocent goodbye kiss quickly turned into a heated exchange that led to Joe pulling you to the backseat of the Porsche and having his way with you. Even though it had been a few hours, you could still practically feel his hand gripping your thigh right now, feel his hot breath against your ear, hearing his raspy voice chant your name breathlessly over and over. That’s how dazed you still were.
“Simmer down, Burrow. Gotta save that energy for tomorrow,” you smiled.
“I can’t help it when my girlfriend is the most beautiful woman on the planet,” he winked while threading his fingers through his frosted tips. “You're not just beautiful, you’re magnetic. There's something about you that draws me in and doesn’t let me go, not just your looks but the way you carry yourself–confident, sexy, and undeniably captivating. Your eyes are like liquor and your body’s like gold. One thing makes me drunk to the point where I lose all sense and the other makes me greedy for more,”.
“Joeee,” you shied away from the camera and smiled, then hid your face in the soft pillow that smelled exactly like him–crisp and clean, with a hint of his natural musk, and a little spicy–which only made you miss him even more and caused your smile to drop.
Yeah, you missed him too. How could you not? You had gotten so used to having him around all the time during the past 10 months and all of a sudden he’s not and is spending the majority of his time at the facility, that wasn’t something you were getting used to just yet. You were beyond excited that he could now do what he loved which he had been missing for far too long, but you missed him. You missed those peaceful evenings that you two spent together, wrapped up in each other’s embrace, and lounging on the couch while watching a silly movie. You missed those mornings when you’d get to wake up to his adorable smile and gentle kisses. You missed those late nights you two spent out in the backyard, staring up at the stars and talking about life. Now that football had fully begun, these things would become sporadic and you couldn’t help but miss him every single second he was away from you, even if you had just seen him just a few hours ago like today.
“What? It’s true,” he smirked, snapping you out of your trance. “I can’t stay away from you, you know that. I just wanna be around you all the time because of the way you make me feel,”.
He wanted to be around you, he really did. But this is what he’d have to deal with for the next 5 to 6 months and it killed him to not spend as much time with you as he wished. The past 10 months were a blessing in disguise for him; even though he was far away from what he loved to do, he was with the person he loved to love. That’s all that mattered.
But now he was close to what he loved to do, but a little further from the person he loved to love–and that sucked.
“Oh really? How do I make you feel?” you asked while peeking up from the pillow with a cheeky grin.
“Hmm,” he hummed and raised his eyebrow as he pretended to think about how you made him feel. He really didn’t need to think about it, the way you made him feel was so obvious to the point where even everyone around him could see it.
Just that afternoon, after Joe finally got out of the car and made his way to the plane, Ja’marr and Tee noticed that Joe looked happier, livelier, and more radiant than normal. At first, they couldn’t put their finger on what made him feel like that, especially before a game like this where he’d normally be dialed in and visibly numb. But once they saw the Porsche drive away and a girl wave goodbye in the window, they knew exactly what got him to this point.
They dubbed this the ‘Y/N glow’, a playful name for the look Joe had whenever he was around them and was giving off specific energy, a specific energy that they noticed he had around you. So whenever Joe showed up around the guys with this glow–without you by his side–they knew something must have happened before with you to make him like this. They applauded your talents, nothing could make Joe this visibly happy, not even football. The way he remained like this even when you weren’t around was remarkable, it goes to show the depth of your love for him and the profound impact you had on him.
That’s why Joe wanted to be around you at all times, the way you made him feel was irreplicable and so good that he was addicted to it, to you. You brought a smile to his face by doing the most minimal things, making him feel a genuine happiness that football could never bring him. You always had a way of making him feel better, even when he was so far gone that he didn’t even know how to pull himself out of that hole on his own. He needed you, he always needed you. Last week was the perfect example; he was almost too deep into that hole of anxiety and self-doubt and pushed you away again, but you once again came right in with no limitations and pulled him back out. He was so extremely blessed to have you in his corner, and he knew that.
“You make me feel like I’ve already won,” he grinned.
“Won what?” you bit your lip and asked, flipping around onto your back.
“The best trophy anyone can possibly win,”.
“Are you calling me a trophy girlfriend?” you furrowed your brows and asked.
“Oh, no. God no,” he laughed. “I mean, I feel like I’ve already won with you. The greatest thing anyone can have in this world is genuine, unconditional love. I have that…with you,” he said, his tone becoming more serious. “Winning you and your love is the greatest trophy, the greatest achievement I could ever have,”.
“Even greater than a Lombardi?” you asked, a tear forming in your eyes because of the sudden severity of his voice. The combination of his voice and the emotions you were already feeling from being apart from him created a strong mix. If he wasn't currently on Facetime with you, you would’ve found yourself seeking comfort in his pillow, probably crying your eyes out. “Fuck, I miss him,” you thought to yourself.
“Greater than a Lombardi, MVP, and Hall of Fame induction,” he nodded.
“Damn, you really love me,” you giggled as you subtly wiped the tear from your eye, trying to prevent him from seeing that you were a little emotional because you didn’t need him to get distracted.
“Really is an understatement. Loving you is like being on fire because it’s intense, all-consuming, and totally wild. It burns inside me, making my heart and soul come alive. You're the flame I never want to put out, the passion I never want to lose. You're the light in my darkest hours and the warmth in my coldest nights,”.
“You’re so sweet and poetic,” you blushed, giving him a love-struck smile as you gazed deeply into his eyes through the screen.
“And you’re so damn cute,” he smiled as he got up from his bed to grab his water bottle.
You let out a soft chuckle, your heart swelling because of how gentle, warming, and loving his words directed to you were, “How are you feeling about tomorrow?” you asked, getting up from your bed and walking over to the bathroom to fix your messy hair.
“Surprisingly good,” he said as he moved around the room, sounds of shuffling and clanking filling the bathroom as you grabbed your brush. “Practice went well, as you know, and I feel pretty good about where I’m at. Physically and Mentally,” he nodded as he came back into the camera view.
“That’s great, babe,” you smiled, feeling lighter after hearing him say that he feels good mentally. Last week was rough and you did not want to see a repeat of that ever again, especially after how long it took you to calm him down.
“I was too hard on myself last week, can’t let that happen again or I think I’ll be borderline psychotic by week 18,” he joked.
As you spoke, a warm, reassuring smile graced your face. "You're absolutely right. It's not healthy to load yourself with so much pressure. What's important is that you're giving it your all. I want you to know that I'm genuinely proud of you no matter what," you said gently, your hand reaching up to brush back a loose strand of hair.
“Thanks, Y/N,” he smiled. “Kansas City’s always a good game regardless. Tomorrow should be good. Not an easy game, but good. Unlike last week, I feel relaxed and confident. Since I’ve gotten hit a few times, that’s put my mind at ease about the wrist a little bit and I feel good. I’m hoping tomorrow’s game will bring that fire back into the guys, and even me,” he said before unscrewing the cap of his water and taking a big sip.
“I know it will,” you said while grabbing a hair clip. “At least we know Ja’marr will be fired up no matter what,” you giggled, referring to Ja’marrs long-lasting beef with the entirety of Kansas City.
He let out a soft laugh, “Ohhh yeah. He’s amped up for sure,”. He closed his water before returning to the camera with a cheeky grin, “I am too, to be honest, but not only because we’re playing the Chiefs. I’m excited to have you here for the game,”.
“Well, I’m excited to be there for the game,” you winked as you grabbed the phone and went back to the bedroom. “My flight’s in like an hour or so and Emma should be meeting me at the airport so we can fly to Kansas City together,”.
“I’m glad she could fly in for the game and keep you company,” he said, talking about your childhood best friend. “I didn’t want you to be all alone since my parents can’t make it and thank god and my big ass contract for letting me get you guys a suite.. I don’t ever want you sitting in the stands because those fans are intense as hell,”.
“Tell me about it,” you said, widening your eyes. “They’re so fucking loud on TV and in person, it’s like on a whole other level of rowdy fans. I thought Philly had the rowdiest NFL fans but KC might give them a run for their money,”.
“Mmm, I think Philly still wins in that department,” Joe shook his head and said. "But Kansas City definitely knows how to bring the energy, especially when they're up against the Bengals. It's like they're out there with an extra level of fire and even insanity when they're up against us,”.
“Well it’s a good thing you’re Joe Cool and can effortlessly cool them off by doing what you do out there,” you grinned, making dramatic hand movements to emphasize your words.
“Thanks, Y/N,” he chuckled, threading his fingers through his soft frosted tips. “I’m gonna let you go now so you can get to your flight on time. I know you get stressed out at the airport so you should probably leave now to give yourself some grace time,” he smiled. “I think some of the guys are going down to grab something to eat from the conference room so I’m gonna go with them,”.
"You’re probably right,” you laughed and nodded as you reached down and pulled up your sleek, black carry-on suitcase with silver accents. The suspense of the game weighed heavily on your mind as you spoke, "I don't know if I'll get a chance to talk to you tomorrow before the game, so I just wanted to say that you got this, Joe. I know you do. Remember to keep calm, take a deep breath, and dial in on the field. Don't think about anything else–forget about the roar of the crowd, the flashing cameras of the media, the distracting questions from the reporters. Block it all out and do what you do best out there. It's just you and the football,".
"I love you so much," Joe said as if he was lost in some trance, his eyes filled with warmth and sincerity, while giving you a tight-lipped smile. You could see the genuine affection in his eyes as he spoke those words. He valued your words, advice, and honesty more than anything else.
"I love you too," you said, unable to contain your joy as a wide grin spread across your face. Your cheeks flushed with a rosy blush, responding to the intense gaze he fixed on you. His eyes spoke volumes, showing an overwhelming amount of love and endearing infatuation that made your heart flutter.
End of flashback
Hearing him say that he felt good about today's game, with a confident smile on his face and a sense of determination in his voice, was all you needed to fully relax and feel a weight being lifted off your shoulders. You noticed the way his eyes sparkled with a mix of excitement and focus, and you couldn't help but feel a wave of positive energy. You were genuinely excited about the game this time, it was a completely different feeling than you had before last week's game when doubt and nerves had overshadowed your usual enthusiasm.
“Did I mention how amazing you look right now, Mrs. Burrow?” Emma teased as she snapped you out of your trance. You blinked your eyes a few times and realized you were now standing in your suite for the evening which was facing the Bengals sideline, not knowing when and how you even ended up in there. You looked down and noticed you were holding a glass, seemingly filled with a Vodka Cranberry Cocktail, not even knowing how this drink ended up in your hold. “Damn, he has me in a trance even when he’s not with me,” you thought to yourself as you looked back at Emma.
“Em…,” you said to her while giving her a look.
“What? I’m just stating the facts, Y/N. I know that ring is coming sooner rather than later,” she winked. “Joe is so down bad obsessed with you, I really don’t think he can go another year without officially officially marking his territory with a big, beautiful diamond ring,”.
"...Yeah," you giggled and nodded a few seconds later, feeling a little shy all of a sudden at the mention of how obsessed he was with you. The thought of marrying Joe filled your mind with a sense of euphoria and excitement, it was a beautiful dream you craved to turn into reality. The past 5 years with him were nothing short of a fairytale, and you two ruled the kingdom you had built together hand-in-hand with no intention of ever letting go. From the moment you first saw each other, you knew that this relationship would be different; and it was. It was different because you two had a connection that neither of you had ever had with anyone before. A kind of connection that only needed one small spark to fully catch on fire. And that fire burned no matter the circumstance: through the rain, the wind, and anything that threatened to blow it out.
A connection that felt like it was written in the stars–something cosmic, fated, inescapable. Once those stars aligned, everything clicked into place your lives intertwined in a way that felt as natural as breathing. It wasn’t forced and it certainly wasn’t rushed; it was like you were both simply waiting for the universe to do its thing, to bring you together at the right moment. As time went on, you realized just how deeply ingrained that bond was. It wasn’t just the shared laughs, the stolen kisses, or even the way you could read each other without saying a word. It was the way you stood by each other through the storms, the way you’d hold each other’s hands when the weight of the world was too much to carry alone.
Joe had reassured you of his intent to marry you multiple times which only intensified the significance of Emma's words and made butterflies flutter in your belly. Joe knew you were his forever from the second he saw you, it was only a matter of time before he made it clear to everyone. You twirled a strand of your hair around your finger, feeling a warm blush creeping up your cheeks as you tried to hide your smile. “But he’s focused on ball right now and he knows I don’t care when it happens,”.
“We’ll see,” Emma grinned, her tone of voice making you suspicious but you decided to let it go knowing this wasn’t the time to pick her brain about this subject. “But seriously, you look hot as hell right now. Best dressed WAG in the league by a long shot and man is Joe going to die when he sees this look. Taylor ain’t got nothing on you today,”.
"Hey," you snapped as your jaw fell, unable to hide your surprise. "No disrespect to Taylor. We love her, and I know she's on the enemy’s side tonight, but listen, her music has been with us through thick and thin, every breakup, situationship, and boyfriend. Without her, I don’t think I would’ve been able to get over James. Not to mention, I think she subconsciously wrote Call it what you want and King of my heart about me and Joe,".
“You’re right, you’re sooo right,” Emma said as she nodded. “But like, you look great,” she smiled as she gestured to your outfit.
You were wearing a skin-tight, cropped, custom-made, orange Burrow jersey that fit like a baby tee. It was a unique piece, specially made to your measurements and featuring Joe’s name and number. Along with the jersey, you wore your trademark ‘9’ necklace, adding a personal touch to the outfit. The denim mini-skirt complemented the jersey top perfectly, adding a casual yet stylish element to your look. The custom white knee-high boots were a standout feature, with a beautifully embroidered ‘9’ on the bottom by your ankle, fashionably showcasing your team spirit. To top it off, you had a vintage Bengals hat on, completing the outfit with a touch of retro charm. Truth be told, you looked absolutely stunning and it was clear who you were specifically supporting tonight.
“I guess I do,” you smiled, taking a sip of the cocktail that was in your hand.
You spent the rest of the time watching the pre-game warmups, observing how quickly fans flooded the stadium, and listening to how loud it was getting even though the game hadn’t even started yet. There were hardly any Bengals fans around your suite, honestly, all you saw was a sea of red around the stadium–not really surprising since not everyone wants to make a trip to Kansas City during week 2, especially after that loss last week.
“Holy Red Kingdom,” Emma said in surprise, raising her eyebrows as she looked down and saw a crowd of Chiefs fans right in front of your suite.
“Yeah,” you nodded as you looked down with her, your eyes scanning the crowd and only seeing ‘15’s and ‘87’s along with bright red shirts, hats, and jerseys. As you looked around the crowd and glanced down to the right, searching for any signs of orange, you heard loud, obnoxious shouting from below. At first, you thought it was just rowdy fans getting excited for the game about to start in a few minutes. But then the words that followed made you feel uneasy, and you quickly looked in that direction.
“Lookie, Lookie. Looks like we got a little Burrow fan up there,” one of the men said pointing up at you.
“Really?” another man cackled, looking right up at you, his face contorting to a look of surprise once he saw you. “Oh shit!”.
“No fucking way,” another man howled. “I didn’t think that joke of a quarterback still had any fans around. Especially after that embarrassing loss last week against the Patriots out of all teams. Like how do you play that bad against the fucking Patriots during Week 1? And wasn’t he all ‘I feel as good as I’ve ever felt in my entire career’ like two weeks ago? It sure as hell didn’t look like it last Sunday,” he laughed. “He was probably lying to save his ass,”.
“That injury clearly fucked him up for good, there’s no coming back from that. He might as well just call it quits now before he gets hurt again and ends up stuck in the hospital bed, I’ve never seen a more injury-prone quarterback since Andrew Luck, Burrow should stop chasing that trophy and sit back down and think about his health,” he laughed, making a mockery out of Joe’s health and stamina.
“I mean, it’s not like he had much going for him before the injury anyway. He came into the league as this hotshot, sparkly quarterback but has nothing to show for the hype that’s around him except for an embarrassing Super Bowl loss. Not to mention that he was overpaid by a lot I mean, with that contract you’d think he’d won two Lombardi’s back to back,” the other man laughed. “Bitch thinks he’s Pat Mahomes,” the man shook his head and hollered, earning loud laughs and words of agreement from the other men.
“Hey!” one of the other men shouted up at you. “You’re supporting the wrong guy, sweet cheeks,” he slurred as he pointed back to the field. “A pretty lady like you needs to show up for a real man like Mahomes or Kelce. Hell, we’re probably better than that pussy, Burrow,” he snarled, the hungry look in his eyes making you feel incredibly uneasy.
“Oooooo,” another man teased. “She does look like she’d look hot in KC red. Not to mention how bangin’ her body is and that ugly orange isn’t doing her tits any justice,”.
Emma's eyes widened in shock as she whispered, "Oh my god," and placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. The lewd comments from the drunk men made you both furious and highly uncomfortable, causing your shoulders to tense up with nervousness.
“Yeahhh,” the other man shouted, “Come sit down here with us, sweetheart. We can help you take that ugly ass Burrow shirt off and give you one of our shirts to wear…but that’s if you’re lucky,” he winks, earning high-fives from the other men for insinuating something like that.
He was so obviously drunk. They were all drunk.
Your heart raced in your chest, each beat echoing in your ears as a wave of anxiety washed over you, leaving you paralyzed with hesitation. Your mind raced, desperately searching for the right words or actions in this strange situation. This was uncharted territory for you, something you had never expected having to confront so you had no idea what to say or do.
“He’s a failure!”. “Complete waste of talent right there!”. “He can’t even throw like he used to!”. “Career went down the toilet as soon as he was drafted to Shittcinati!”. “He’s one hit away from being done for good!”.
The insults echoed in your mind, each word leaving a harsh mark and adding to the weight on your shoulders you thought you got rid of over the past week. As the crowd quieted for the kickoff, the echoes of their insults lingered. During the chaos, you could only think about Joe, feeling his absence strongly. The hurtful words triggered familiar feelings of anxiety and worry that you had worked hard to overcome before stepping into the stadium and you didn’t know what to do.
“Y/N?” Emma asked as she grabbed your trembling hand. “Are you alright?” she asked as she gave it a gentle squeeze.
“Y- yeah,” you lied as you felt your eyes well with tears. “I’m fine. It was just a bunch of drunk idiots, n- nothing to worry about,” you said to her while giving her a fake, rehearsed smile as you felt that pit in your stomach you got last week come back.
“Are you sure? That was fucking disgusting and so uncalled for, I’m sure we can talk to someone and-,”.
“No.” you interrupted her and said, your voice heavy and almost scared. “I really don’t want to make a scene here and I don’t even think those guys knew I’m Joe’s girlfriend. I really don’t want to be the subject of those annoying headlines over this and make things even more distracting for Joe,” you swallowed.
“But I-,”.
“Emma, please,” you pleaded as you looked into her eyes. “I’m fine,” you lied again, giving her false reassurance by pulling her in for a hug.
You were not fine. Joe. You needed Joe. The one person who could calm you down, get you to relax, the person who would be able to deal with this and shield you from the disgusting comments. “I need you right now,” you thought to yourself as you felt your throat tighten and tears threaten to spill out. You had never experienced anything like this before and although it was just a group of idiotic men that didn’t know you or Joe enough to be saying all of that, it still felt like a punch straight to the gut because the things they were saying were along the same lines of what Joe was saying to you last week, only they were saying it in a harsher more hateful manner. You weren’t even sure if you wanted to tell Joe about this, knowing that it would just become another distraction for him.
“This is going to be a long game,” you thought to yourself after pulling away from the hug sitting back down in your seat, feeling the urge to shrink away and hide. The pit in your stomach mixed with your growing anxiety left a bitter taste in your mouth, making you feel exactly how you did last week during the game.
It felt as if the protective bubble shielding you from the raging storm outside had burst, leaving you once again in the middle of the storm, feeling scared, anxious, and on the verge of being swept away by your thoughts.
“Fuck,” you thought to yourself. “I hope this feeling goes away,”.
A few hours later - End of the Game
It definitely did not go away.
The comments from the drunk fans set the tone for you for the rest of the game. It seemed like everything went downhill from there–for you and for the team. Some exciting, explosive moments had you on your feet but those were tinted by the other, more unpleasant things that happened.
You found yourself once again on the edge of your seat the entire game, but not because of the thrill or because you had adrenaline coursing through your veins. It was for the exact same reason as last week–you were scared, anxious, and upset. The game was neck and neck, a pure nail-biter as usual, and the Bengals put up one hell of a fight and honestly should have won the game, but they once again couldn’t do it.
They played good and way better than last week, but just not good enough.
And then it came to Joe. The one person that had been on your mind since the game began.
Flashback
"Oh my god!" you yelled as you shot up from your chair, your heart palpitating in your chest as you saw Joe go in for the QB sneak. You could see the determination in his eyes as he charged forward, only to get his shoulder rammed into by a defender. In that split second, you knew it was going to be a hard hit. Joe was brought straight to the ground, his helmet knocked off, and he was immediately crushed by several large opposing players. The impact echoed through the stadium as you breathed, praying he’d get up.
“Holy Shit,” Emma gasped next to you, her hand over her mouth. “I hope he’s okay, that looks like it fucking hurt,”.
“Joe, please be okay,” you whispered to yourself, your entire body feeling as if it was just thrown into a familiar brick wall. Immediately, your mind wandered over to the moments he had gotten injured in the past, and what just happened in that play was very similar to what’s happened before. The feeling you got in your body just now was very similar to how you felt in those moments. It was as if you were thrown into the abyss, had your heart torn from your chest, or stabbed in the stomach.
“Not again. I can’t do that again. He can’t do that again,” you thought to yourself as you felt your eyes pool with tears. “His fucking helmet flew off, Emma,” you said as you turned to her, your voice trembling and breaths getting shorter. “And…and his shoulder. The way he went down…,”.
“I know, I know,” she said as she rubbed your back, “But look, he’s getting up and he looks fine”.
You looked back down to the field, watching as Joe grabbed his helmet and stood up with an emotionless look on his face. As you watched him from a distance, you noticed that there was no hint of a limp in his stride, no flexing of his wrist, and no visible signs of shoulder pain. It seemed like he was moving with relaxation and confidence, showing no physical pain as he prepared to rejoin the game.
“See? It’s okay. He’s okay,” she soothed as she swayed you back and forth for comfort.
“Fuck,” you whispered as you slowly nodded, taking deep breaths to even out your heart rate, “He’s okay…He’s fine…,”.
“Yeah, he’s fine,” Emma reassured. “Don’t worry so much. Joe’s a tough guy, a play like this isn’t going to hurt him. Especially now since he’s so so much stronger and tougher, ”.
“You’re right,” you swallowed, trying to calm yourself down by continuing to take deep breaths and using your right hand to gently rub your left hand (the hand which had the veins that led straight to your heart)—a gesture that always calmed you down that Joe discovered. You rubbing your hand didn’t have the same effect as when Joe did it, but it was enough for now.
“I just- they can’t do that again. He could’ve gotten really hurt,” you mumbled.
Even though he looked calm and normal, you started to feel more and more uneasy. At the same time, you began to taste something bitter in your mouth, and it got stronger with every breath.
End of Flashback
The trauma of witnessing his previous injuries had left you with a bit of PTSD. As a result, every time he fell or moved differently, you experienced intense anxiety and fear, believing that something may be seriously wrong.
You had hoped that moment was the only time this evening you’d feel like this, but you couldn’t have been more wrong.
The QB sneak was just one example from this evening.
Flashback
“Yeah, and I thought about bringing Ryland but he had to go into New York this weekend with his brother for the Cage The Elephant concert,” Emma said as she took a sip of her cocktail. You two were talking about needing to plan a double date with the four of you (you, Joe, Emma, and her Boyfriend). She also mentioned that she wanted to bring him to the game this evening but he already had tickets for the concert with his brother and wished he could have joined you all.
“Sooo, I take it you two are getting serious,” you giggled, wiggling your eyebrows.
“What makes you say that?” she asked, taking another sip.
“We never do double dates, Em. Like ever,” you smiled. “Your exes were douches so you never brought them around Joe and me on purpose as a coupley thing but you are with Ryland so something has to be different,”.
“I could say the same thing about you, Mrs. Burrow, Mrs. Quarterback, Mrs. 9, Mrs. Cincinnati, Mrs. Shiesty,” she teased with a silly smile. “You never brought a boyfriend around me like that for the same reason and here we are, sitting in a suite your lover rented for you, watching him play football, while you’re completely decked out in his name and number. You and Joe are like a package deal. Inseparable, attached at the hip, and so obsessed with one another. You are locked the fuckkkk in and I could not be more happier for you,”.
“Emmmaaaaa,” you whined, hiding your face out of shyness.
“I can just hear those wedding bells, Y/N,” she giggled, pulling your hands down. “Here comes the bride,” she sing-songed.
“Rigggghtttt,” you nodded, laughing along with her and glancing back to the field to see if the break was over and to see where your boyfriend was.
You felt your heart drop and a lump forming in your throat as your eyes locked onto Joe, who was standing crouched down on the field. "Oh my god," you choked, the words barely escaping your lips as you shot up from your chair, feeling the adrenaline coursing through your veins. You walked with shaky steps straight to the edge of the suite window, your mind racing with a million thoughts at once.
You saw Joe standing on the field, his back to you, and crouched down; almost as if he was holding his wrist. Your mind quickly flashed back to November 16th, M&T Bank Stadium, the night he got hurt and was in this exact position. “Oh my god,” you said again, this time more panic evident in your voice.
“What’s wrong?” Emma asked as she looked at you.
“Joe…he looks like he’s holding his wrist?” you mumbled as you moved to the side to see if you could get a better look. “Emma, I think something’s wrong,” you said, feeling a wave of nausea come over you.
Emma quickly got up from her seat and walked over next to you, taking a look at what you were talking about. “Are you sure?” she asked with a concerned look.
“It- it looks like it…oh my god,” you said as you felt your throat tighten, then covered your face with your eyes. “No, no, no, this can’t be happening again. Not now,” you sniffled, trying to hold back tears.
Emma continued to look down at Joe with you, her eyes twinkling with amusement and her smile coming back once she got a better view of him. "Ohhhh, Y/N," she laughed next to you, her pleasant voice filling the air. She placed her arm around your shoulder, the warmth of her touch comforting and familiar, and gave you a gentle squeeze.
“What?” you asked her, peeking through your hands.
“Look down,” she said, pointing back down to Joe.
You moved your hands down and slowly turned to your head to look at him and what you saw was completely unexpected.
Joe was tying his shoes.
That’s why he was crouched down.
"He was... he was tying his shoes?" you whispered, feeling your heart start up again and a wave of relief come over you, which swept away the nausea. The sight of him crouched down, looping the laces and tying them into neat bows, reassured you that everything was okay. You have never been happier to see him tying his shoes, doing such a simple and ordinary task.
“Looks like it,” she laughed, then looked back at you and saw your face relax. “You okay?”.
“I think so,” you breathed out, watching him stand back up and walk around like nothing happened. “I just got scared for a second. That position seemed a little too familiar for my liking,” you nervously laughed.
“I get it. This stuff has to be stressful for you because of the wrist. It’s normal to get a bit of PTSD,” she said.
“I think I’ll be dead by Week 18 if I keep freaking out over these things,” you joked, placing your hand over your heart.
Every time he did something different, like flexing his wrist or crouching down weirdly, rubbing a certain part of his body, or sporting a look of discomfort—you were scared shitless. The thought of him getting injured again and having to go through all the pain and suffering was your biggest nightmare.
End of Flashback
Then, it was Ja’marr’s situation on the field, a situation that had quickly escalated as everyone was running on pure adrenaline and anger.
Even Joe, who usually keeps his calm in these scenarios.
Flashback
“Ja’marr looks pissed, holy shit,” you said as you looked down onto the field and saw him visibly angry at the Refs.
“Look at Joe trying to swoop in and save his bestie,” Emma laughed as she pointed towards Joe who was running to Ja’marr, then grabbing him to move him away from the Ref.
“That’s Joe, all right,” you smiled, “Always being Switzerland,”.
You watched as the situation on the field seemingly fizzled out after that, but then also watched as things quickly heated up again and Ja’marr was going right back in. You leaned forward in your seat, “What the fuck is even happening? Why is he so livid?” you said.
“I think it might have been related to the play before but I think the fact that the Ref isn’t talking to him is making it worse,” Emma nodded.
“Yeah,” you said quietly, your eyes widening as you watched Joe come back into the situation, this time his entire body language showing that he was not happy. You watched as he pulled Ja’marr away from the Ref and then tried to speak with the Ref himself, only to be interrupted by Ja’marr again.
“Oh my-,” you began to say before your breath hitched in your throat at the sight of Joe roughly pushing Ja’marr away from him.
"Holy fuck," Emma said in surprise, her eyes widening as she watched the intense scene unfold on the field. Both of you stood there, observing Joe extending an arm to try to keep Ja'marr away, but it was clear that his efforts weren’t working. Joe had to keep pushing Ja'marr back while also giving him a piece of his mind. "Y/N, I've never seen Joe that aggressive before on the field," she pointed out, her voice laced with concern as she continued to watch the tense exchange between the two players.
“Me either. He always keeps his cool, so something bad must have happened for him to get like this,” you agreed, the sight of Joe getting heated on the field both concerning and slightly enticing for you.
“I didn’t know Joe got rough like that,” Emma laughed, trying to lighten the vibes by teasing you, and oh was it working.
“Very funny, Em,” you said, sending her an intense look and trying to hide your smile even though you were laughing internally at what she was implying.
“What? I mean, if he’s like that out there I can’t even imagine how he’s like in-,” she started to say before you interrupted her.
“Emma!” you laughed, your entire body shaking from your reaction. “He’d kill me if he knew we were talking about this,”.
“So that means what I’m saying is true,” she giggled while raising her eyebrow.
You tried to hide your smile by gently pressing your lips together, but the corners of your mouth gave you away, turning up in a slight but unmistakable grin. Your cheeks, with a rosy, playful blush, gave off warmth, revealing everything without you needing to say a word.
“Daaaaamn, Joe,” she smiled. “Well at least now I know that you have a good sex life,” she winked.
“Good? It’s fucking phenomenal,” you nonchalantly mumbled which earned a gasp from Emma.
“Ahhh,” she shrieked, breaking out into a fit of laughter with you.
Although you were taking a lighthearted approach to the situation, whatever happened on the field didn’t sit well with you. You weren’t sure what was going on with Ja’marr and although you were worried about him, your attention was mostly on Joe. His visible agitation, a stark contrast to his usual composed presence on the field, was concerning. He always kept his cool whenever things went sideways out there because he didn’t like getting worked up. After all, that diverted his focus, but this time it seemed like he lost all of his ability to keep calm–which only meant one thing.
It was getting to him. This game was getting to him.
End of Flashback
As the game went on, he only got more and more frustrated. You could tell he wasn’t happy with his performance and the team’s performance by his body language and the grim yet frustrated look on his face.
His unhappiness was justified, this game was brutal and although the Bengals had an answer for every play the Chiefs made, there were too many careless mistakes that ended up costing them the game. One thing in particular that you knew Joe would repeatedly think about was his fumble in the 4th quarter which the Chiefs capitalized on and got a free 6 points from. You knew he’d obsess over that play because it was his mistake that cost them the ball and why they got those points.
If that fumble return didn’t happen, they had a good chance of winning the game, and you knew that thought would haunt Joe for the rest of the night.
You felt awful about the entire thing, how the team struggled against them, how Joe struggled against them, how their ignorant mistakes that should’ve been cleared up were costing them this important game.
And just when you thought it couldn’t get any worse, it did.
Flashback to the last few seconds of the game
“I just…I can’t believe we lost,” you said as you blankly stared out onto the field, watching as the clock painfully ticked down. “We were so close…he was so close, I..,” you started to get choked up and said, clutching your ‘9’ necklace in the process. “And he looks so..he looks so sad and disappointed,”.
Joe.
That is literally all you could think about right now. Not the team, not the fans, not the careless mistakes, not the fact that you lost the game by 1 point and a few bullshit referee calls.
Just Joe.
“I know, Y/N. I know,” Emma said as she placed a comforting arm around your shoulder and let you lay your head on her shoulder.
“And Joe’s probably already beating himself up for this and-,” you began to say before you were interrupted by loud, obnoxious yelling again.
“How does it feel, girls?” the fan laughed as the same group of men from earlier looked up at you and Emma.
“I swear to fucking god,” Emma whispered before speaking up, “Can you all just shut the fuck up for once in your goddamn lives? Leave her alone you miserable freaks,”.
“Oooo, someone’s getting defensive,” the other drunk laughed.
“They seem so sad, awww,” the other man mocked in a child-like voice. “That’s what happens when you support the wrong fucking guy, sweetheart,”.
“He was a shitty quarterback, still is a shitty quarterback, and will forever be a shitty quarterback. You got the short end of the stick, babe,” the other man laughed while raising his cup in the air. “It ain’t too late to switch teams…or switch shirts,” he winked.
“Wait a second,” one of the men said while looking down at his phone. “Holy fuck, look at this y’all,” he said to the other men as he turned his phone around.
“That girl up there is Burrow’s girlfriend. Just came up on my feed,” he said as he glanced up at you and showed you the picture of you and Joe from the sidelines at the last home game which made it onto some sports tabloid.
“No freaking way!” one of the men obnoxiously laughed. “This bitch is his fucking girlfriend? That’s even more embarrassing for her. Supports a shitty ass team with a lackluster quarterback and is dating him? Man, your standards must be low as fuck,”.
You held your tongue, clenching your fists to stop yourself from defending Joe and yourself. You didn't want to create a scene, but the want to speak up was strong. Your eyes burned with built-up tears and you knew that if you let them fall, you wouldn't be able to stop. “Please stop,” you thought to yourself, your entire body telling you that you needed to be in Joe’s arms. His warmth, his touch, and his words were what you needed right now.
"Damn, they’ve been together since his days down in Louisiana. That’s like what? 5 years? Damn, he didn't even bother to put a ring on her finger either. So not only is he a bad football player, but he's also proving to be an even worse boyfriend," one man chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief.
“Or maybe it’s because he doesn’t want to put a ring on her finger. He probably knows she’s a gold digger and is only with him for the money and fame. I mean, look at her? She looks like a slut and is practically asking for all eyes to be on her. Attention whore at it’s finest,” he cackled.
“Or maybe it’s because Burrow wants to keep his options open. He has to be getting models thrown at him left and right, ain’t no way he hasn’t swooped in on one while being with her. He’s definitely keeping his options open until a hot enough chick comes around and he can ditch this girl. And if one doesn’t, he’ll settle for her and have his homemaker around,” one man laughed.
“Please…stop,” you whispered, your bottom lip trembling from the anxiety that was spreading through your body.
“Y/N…let’s just go,” Emma whispered in your ear as she noticed the pain in your eyes.
“Look at her face, I mean she looks fucking embarrassing,” the man snarled, pointing up at you. “You got something to say or are you as incompetent as your little boyfriend?”.
“Burrow needs to put that trash to the side and date someone more on his level,” another man howled. “If football doesn’t work for him—which it clearly isn’t because he succckkkkssss,” he yelled. “Fucking a supermodel will give him a lengthy life in the public eye at least,”.
"Sorry babe, this is what happens when you come into the Reedddddd Kingdommm," the other man said with a sly smile, his voice laced with a hint of mischief as he sang that horrid, cheesy, ear-bleed-inducing tune, his words echoing through your mind along with everything else that was said.
“Don’t say sorry to her? She knew what she walked into when she showed up in that god-awful number, color, and name,” another man laughed, holding his plastic cup of beer in the air.
You thought he was just raising his cup, but you were so wrong. “Go back to Shittcinnati, slut!” he yelled, throwing his cup at the shield of your suite.
“Oh my fucking god,” Emma yelled as she quickly pulled you back from the window, both of you watching the cup hit the window and the beer splash everywhere against the shield.
"W- what," you stammered, your voice trembling with fear and confusion. You felt your throat tighten again as panic set in, and your stomach churned with unease. The room seemed to spin as you struggled to make sense of the overwhelming emotions washing over you.
“Hell no, we’re leaving now. This is fucking disgusting,” Emma said as she left your side, grabbed your things, and then led you out of the suite. You were so in shock that it felt like your mind had detached from your body and as if you were watching everything happen from a distance, unable to fully process what was going on.
End of flashback
You were entirely zoned out for at least 10 minutes as Emma led you down the narrow, dimly lit hallway to the locker room area to see Joe. It was like you were trapped in a dark, windowless room, the air filled with the smell of sweaty players and damp towels. You didn't know where to go, what to do, or what to say. You felt lost, alone, and out of it, as if the world around you had faded. "What the hell just happened?" you asked yourself, getting lost in the endless abyss that was your thoughts to the point where you barely heard Emma tell you she was going to the bathroom. Your brain wasn’t comprehending what had just happened, but your heart was and it hurt. Their comments hurt, the look in their eyes hurt, and you were hurt.
“Y/N?” a heavy yet gentle voice said which snapped you back to the present. You turned your head and saw Joe walking towards you, your face quickly turning to a livelier, happier expression to hide your true feelings, he didn’t need to see you like this; not now. His feelings were what you needed to focus on, and given the kind of loss they just had, you knew he had a lot of feelings; yours weren’t as important.
He pulled you into his chest, tucking your head in his neck and he wrapped his arms around you, “I missed you so much,” he smiled, his strained voice and body telling you how tense he was even if he tried to hide it with his smile.
"I missed you too," you mumbled against him, the rise and fall of his breathing providing a sense of comfort as you felt yourself melt away in the safe bubble that his presence always provided you. The warmth of his embrace surrounded you, and for a moment, everything else faded into the background.
He let go of your waist and moved his hand up to your cheek, pulling you in for a kiss. His warm lips against yours felt like a breath of fresh air, a breath of fresh air he had no idea you desperately needed. Joe immediately sensed the tension in your body as he kissed you. Normally, you melted into him, but this time your posture was rigid, your shoulders stiff, and your movements hesitant. His lips brushed against yours, but he could feel how dry and cracked they were, a telltale sign you’d been anxiously biting at them for hours. Joe knew this habit all too well; it was something you did when you were nervous, anxious, or lost in thought.
After lingering for a few seconds, he gently pulled back, his brows furrowed with concern. His eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made it hard to look away. He could see past the surface–the forced calm and the faint smile. There, in the depth of your eyes, he found what you were trying so hard to hide. The pain, the weight of anxiety, the shadows of doubt–he saw it all.
"Something's wrong," he said quietly but firmly, his voice low. He didn’t look away, holding the gaze as if he dared you to deny what he already knew. His hand gently cupped your face, his thumb rubbing your cheek as he waited for you to let him in.
“N- nothing’s wrong,” you said as you gave him a faint smile, your smile and voice not convincing enough.
“Y/N, I know you. I know you better than you know yourself, remember?” he smiled as he echoed what you said to him last week, “Are you okay?” he asked as he tucked your soft hair behind your ear.
You stayed quiet for a few seconds, not wanting to burden him with your emotions since you knew he already had enough to deal with on his own. But you knew you had to tell him because you couldn’t deal with this on your own. You needed him.
“No,” you replied with full honesty, tears pooling in your eyes as you thought about everything that happened again. You stared deeply into his tired blue eyes, noticing that there was something he was hiding from you too. “Are you okay?” you asked him, praying he didn’t brush you off like he did last week.
“No,” he quickly replied with the same honesty you gave him, his face dropping once he admitted that he wasn’t okay, and you knew exactly why. “But we can talk about that back at home,” he added, a wave of relief washing over you once you heard him say that because that implied he wasn’t going to shut you out again.
“O- okay,” you nodded as you felt him move his hand down to yours, then pull you over to a more secluded area away from the staff, players, and anyone that would overhear anything that was meant to be private. He saw the look in your eyes and that set off a siren in his head, something had happened and you were hiding it from him.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Joe asked again softly as he turned to face you, his voice laced with concern. His hand found yours, his fingers gently rubbing circles on the back of your left hand in an absentminded but soothing gesture that he knew would calm you down. “You look shaken up,” he continued, his brow furrowing as his eyes scanned your face for any clue you might give him. “Did something happen that you’re not telling me about?” His voice was gentle, but the worry in his tone was obvious. His thumb traced slow, rhythmic patterns across your knuckles, a silent reassurance that he was here and that he wouldn’t let go until you told him what was weighing on you.
You took a deep breath before looking into his eyes again, seeing that it was just Joe. You could talk to him; you could talk to him about anything because he made it very clear to you that he was always going to be there for you no matter what. He was your safety net, you could fall back and he would catch you every time.
“Something…something happened up at the suite,” you began to say, Joe’s eyes instantly softening because he knew what you were about to say. His biggest concern, his biggest fear when it came to you and football had come to life.
You took a deep breath, bracing yourself before beginning to remember everything. The words came out slowly at first, but once you started, it felt like a dam had burst. You told Joe everything–their horrible comments, their slurred insults, the throwing of the drink (which really pissed Joe off), and the crude remarks they’d made about you both. Every vile comment they tossed around about you, about your relationship, seemed to sting more as you repeated them.
Joe stood silently, his face a mixture of pain and anger, but his hand never left yours. As you spoke, you could feel the tremble in your voice, the knot tightening in your chest as you tried to fight back your tears. It was clear that repeating everything was breaking something inside you. You paused for a moment, your voice cracking as you glanced up at him and tried to read his reaction.
It broke Joe’s heart to see you like this, struggling to hold yourself together. His chest tightened as he watched you fight back tears, trying to stay strong while reliving something that clearly hurt you so deeply. Each word you spoke felt like another blow, not just to him, but to you, and it killed him that he hadn’t been there to protect you from it.
“Y/N…I’m so sorry,” he softly said as he pulled you into his arms, your tears threatening to come out from this and the way he rubbed gentle circles around your back. “I’m so-,” he started to say before he got choked up. “I’m so fucking sorry,” he finished.
“It’s okay, Joe,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper as you hid your face in his chest.
“No, it’s not,” he said, his voice laced with anger now that he was realizing what happened.
The fans. The fans of the sport he plays. They hurt the most important, valuable, and special thing in this world. They hurt you.
Joe could feel the anger boiling under his skin as he fought back the urge to go find these assholes and teach them a few things about what happened when they messed with the love of his life. He was also considering going out and finding the head of security or someone who handled these things and ripping one to them, but once he felt how you were shaking in his arms, he let those thoughts go. He knew you needed him more than you needed to see those assholes’ heads on a platter which is why he kept his anger inside and instead focused on comforting you.
“I’m gonna see if I can get out of this conference so we can just go home,” Joe said after he pressed a comforting kiss to your head.
“N- No,” you said as you moved your head from his chest. “I don’t want you to skip out on it because of me,”.
“But baby-,”.
“Joe, no. Please,” you pleaded as you cupped his cheeks and ran your thumbs along his soft skin. “I’m going to be fine, I promise. You still have a job to do and I don’t want to take you away from that,” you said as you gave him a small smile.
His heart broke as he saw your bloodshot eyes, knowing he was the reason you were in this situation. He felt so guilty, realizing that if it weren’t for his presence in your life those men wouldn’t have said such awful things to you.
What hurt him even more was knowing he couldn’t be there for you the way you truly needed. He could listen, but it wasn’t enough. He felt helpless, wanting to fix everything but knowing all he could do right now was hold your hand while you tried not to fall apart.
“Are you sure? I don’t fucking care about standing in front of a bunch of reporters who are going to ask me the same exact question 10 different times. I care about you and making sure you’re okay,” he said as he placed his hands on yours and gave them a gentle squeeze before kissing your palm.
You took a deep breath and then looked back into his eyes, seeing deep anger & sadness in them. Although you wanted him to skip and comfort you, you didn’t want to take him away from what he had to do. You never wanted to take him away from football. “Positive. Go do what you have to do, I’m going to be fine. Besides, I should get going for my flight,” you said, trying to give him a reassuring smile.
He took a deep breath as he felt himself being pulled in two different directions. He wanted to stay with you so badly but one, he knew you wouldn’t let him, and two, he wasn’t even sure if he was allowed to skip the conference. He gave himself a mental slap out of guilt for leaving you before giving you a small nod, “Okay,” he said. “I’ll see you in a few hours,” he added as he pulled you back into his embrace. “I love you,” he said as he dropped a kiss on your forehead.
You pressed a gentle kiss against his neck before tucking your head back into his chest, “I love you too,” you mumbled. The heat of his skin radiated against your cheek, and it only made you feel worse. You knew that the warmth wasn't just physical; it mirrored the anger and frustration building inside him, the emotions he was trying to hold back for you.
“Nothing’s gonna hurt you, baby,” he whispered in your ear before holding you tighter. “Not as long as I’m here,”.
You took another deep breath as you felt yourself melt away in his arms, wishing for him to never let go because this hug was the only time you felt at ease all day, but you always had the worst luck.
“I gotta go,” he said softly, pulling away from the hug. The look on your face stopped him for a few seconds–it was a mix of hurt and longing that pulled at his heart. Every instinct in him screamed to pull you back into his arms and never let go, but he forced himself to step away, even though it felt like the hardest thing he’d ever done.
“Okay,” you nodded, looking down at your feet as you took another deep breath and tried to hold back your tears for maybe the 50th time in the past hour.
He used his hand to lift your chin up before cupping your cheek again and pulling you in for another kiss, this one filled with passion & reassurance. As he pulled away, he whispered “Everything’s going to be alright,” against your pink lips. “I promise,”.
Just before stepping into the conference room, he looked back at you. His heart dropped as he saw you close your eyes and take a deep breath, your hands subtly moving to wipe away the tears you thought you had hidden from him.
“I hate this fucking city. She doesn’t deserve any of this,” Joe thought to himself as he turned around and walked into the room, the tension in his body palpable as he struggled to keep his cool.
No one could disrespect you like that and get away with it. Joe wasn’t going to let it happen, even though he knew you didn’t want him to say anything because you wanted to avoid a scene. His protective instinct was stronger than his desire to keep the peace, it was always that way with you.
A half-hour later
The next half-hour passed by quickly and before you knew it, you were back on the plane and heading home. Joe had chartered you and Emma a private plane for your trip home and at first, you were slightly annoyed by his grandness–telling him that you didn’t need all this and that you were just a girl and could go on a normal flight like everyone else–but now had gained a new-found appreciation because you really didn’t want to be around other people right now. This private flight gave you the quietness you so badly needed, or so you thought.
You changed into something more comfortable, slipping into one of his sweatshirts that still carried his comforting scent, a comfort that helped calm you for the moment. Emma was curled up in the back, taking a power nap while you scrolled through your phone, watching clips from the game. The familiar sounds and sights provided a distraction, even if just for a little while.
You found yourself laughing at a clip of Joe making a funny face on the sidelines, “His football faces are hysterical,” you mumbled to yourself before you saw a notification pop up on your screen.
It was a text from your sister with a link to a tweet.
your sister: link 🔗
your sister: what’s going on??
You raised your eyebrow out of confusion before tapping on the link, your eyes widening as you saw the caption of the video that was tweeted.
“Click here to see a rare statement made by Joe Burrow regarding his personal life and his girlfriend, Y/N,”.
“Oh, fuck,” you whispered, feeling your stomach churn. A wave of nausea washed over you, tightening your insides and catching you off guard.
When you clicked on the video, you felt the wave of sadness come back as you saw Joe standing at the podium. He looked tired and worn out, with his face showing how exhausted and defeated he felt. As you watched him, you felt a sense of worry and concern, realizing the seriousness of the situation.
"How frustrating is this loss, Joe?" a reporter asked him.
You watched him take a deep breath before answering the question, hesitance clear in his body language. “As frustrating as I’ve had,” his words were weighed down by the burden he carried in his heart. “This one stings a bit, we just couldn’t get it done. Felt good about the game plan, I was seeing it well…uhh..you know, just didn’t do enough to get it done,”.
You had a single tear running down your cheek, showing that the strong emotions you were trying to hold back were breaking through the wall you built. His words painted a picture of pain, a picture of pain you had never seen. He wasn’t acting like his usual self and you had never seen him so low after a loss, and that’s including the Super Bowl. Was this because of you? Or was this because of the game?
Whatever it was, you could tell he was hurting. He was hurting badly.
“Where do you go from here? 0-2 isn’t unfamiliar territory for you, but where does Joe Burrow go from here? How are you feeling? What is the level of urgency?” another reporter asked him, Joe’s eyes dropping down to the side as he avoided looking into the reporter’s eyes.
“I need to give him a hug,” you thought to yourself as you let out a soft sob. You just wanted to take all of his pain away, he didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve to feel like he let anyone down like this loss was all on him. He didn’t deserve to hurt like this.
“Uhh,” he nervously mumbled. “I still feel good, you know…There’s a lot of work to be done, a lot of things to fix,” he sighed as he looked down for a few seconds. “The urgency is very high. We just need to go out and get a win. We have to do better, I…I have to do better,” he added, his shaky voice breaking your heart. His voice cracked on the last part, a sound you hadn’t heard from him before. It was subtle, but enough to break your heart. The vulnerability was right there just beneath the surface like he was walking on the fine line between keeping it together and falling apart. His eyes shimmered in the bright lights of the room–though no tears fell–and for a second, you thought he might break, but he held it in.
What you saw was the kind of pain that came from someone who felt like they were carrying the world on their shoulders and didn’t know how much longer they could keep standing.
The clip then cut to the end of his press conference. Usually, he’d glance around the room before saying, “Thanks guys” and walking off the podium, but this time he didn’t exactly do that. He did his normal look around the room, but instead of walking off, he spoke up again.
“Before I go, I just wanted to say something and I know this is very uncharacteristic of me but this is the only way I could think of getting this across,” he said as he looked around the room for nods of approval, which he got.
He couldn’t keep it in, he had to say something.
“I know I usually don’t talk about my private life or my girlfriend, Y/N,” he said as his eyes drooped to the floor but quickly moved back up. “And I do that to protect her and a part of my life that I keep very close to my heart, but silence can only protect things for so long. She’s been to every single one of my games for the past 5 years and not once has she ever felt scared, harassed, and disrespected–but she did tonight and I couldn’t do anything to help her.
So that’s why I need to say this,” he continued, his voice becoming stronger and more determined. “If you have something to say about me, my career, my life–literally anything,” he paused, gripping the podium even tighter as if it were the only thing keeping his emotions in check. “Say it to my face.”
There was fierceness in his tone now, a protective edge that cut through the room. “Y/N didn’t sign up for this life. I did,” he said, his voice stable and full of confidence. His eyes scanned the crowd, daring anyone to say anything to him.
“The awful things that were said to her this evening are things I would have never thought would be said to her, but here we are,” he sighed. “And I know you all are probably confused as to what I’m talking about, but there are people out there who know exactly what I’m talking about and that’s what matters. In all the years that she’s been with me, not once has she ever been in this position before, and the fact that this happened here? Tonight?” he added while shaking his head, his piercing eyes now filled with fire.
“She doesn’t deserve to be treated like this just because she supports me. So from now on, if anyone has something to say, leave her out of it. The fans tonight…they should be ashamed of themselves for harassing a girl that they don’t even know. That’s not going to earn you any brownie points with anyone. It’s just downright disgusting, pathetic, and embarrassing. This woman has been by my side through thick and thin, through every single up and down since my first year at LSU. She knows me better than anyone does, and she’s the single most important thing to me—even more important than football. She’s my support system, my best friend, home in human form, my person,” his eyes darken, anger and protectiveness mixing together.
“Nobody has the right to make her feel unwelcomed because she’s my girlfriend. Nobody has the right to pass any lewd comments about her. Nobody has the right to say anything about our private relationship. If I ever hear anyone say a single thing about her, I’m not going to just brush it off,” he said, his words as sharp as the look in his eyes. “I protect the things I love which means I will protect her no matter what. Call me out, insult me, trash my name all you want. But I draw the line at Y/N. If you have anything to say, say it to my fucking face. Leave her alone,” he said before pausing for a few seconds. He held the silence that followed for a few more seconds, the severity of what he was saying took everyone by surprise because they had never seen Joe like this. The looks on all their faces told him that they heard him loud and clear even though none of this was directed at them. Then, with a last look at the room, he pushes away from the podium, his broad shoulders tense and stiff from anger, and walks off without another word.
“Oh my god,” you sniffled, wiping away the tears that were rapidly sliding down your cheeks. “Oh my god,”.
You couldn’t believe he actually said something, and he said it so publicly.
Joe was never one to speak so candidly about his personal life, especially when it came to you. He was always careful, intentionally private, keeping the most intimate parts of his world hidden away from the scrutiny of the outside. It wasn’t that he didn’t want people to know how much he cared about you–if anything, it was the opposite. He knew all too well the potential effects of letting everything out in the open; the extreme opinions, the relentless criticism, the intrusion into your lives that could come crashing down if he let his guard down for even a moment.
He always tried to shield you from that. His love wasn’t about grand displays or public statements; it was in the quiet moments, the gentle looks, and the way he held your hand just a little tighter when the world around him was too loud. He kept you out of the spotlight as much as he could, not because he was ashamed, but because he wanted to protect you from the ugly side of his world–the part that didn’t care about your feelings or boundaries.
But even Joe knew that silence could only go so far. Eventually, its weight would press down, creating a wall between you and the life he lived every day. And tonight, when you felt disrespected and harassed just for being there for him, it broke the carefully kept distance he’d worked so hard to build.
So now that he had actually said something, you couldn’t help but feel a little worried. You were a lowkey kind of girlfriend; the majority of fans knew you were dating Joe but you were never the kind of girlfriend to flaunt that you had the most desired NFL player wrapped around your finger. What he just did…what he just said put the spotlight on you and you were terrified that this would do more harm than good. Especially for him.
But you knew that this was Joe.
Your Joe.
You knew how much he tried to keep this part of his life away from the public eye and the fact that he went out and said something was enough to tell you that he wouldn’t let anything hurt you. He wouldn’t ever do anything to hurt you, he meant what he said.
Nothing was going to hurt you as long as he was with you.
An hour or so later
“I’ll see you soon, okay?” Emma said to you as she pulled you in for a hug, swaying you back and forth on the doorstep of your home.
“Are you sure you can’t stay until tomorrow?” you asked as you pulled away from the hug.
“I wish I could but you know I have that meeting in the morning,” she pouted as she picked up her bag.
“Right,” you nodded. “Get some sleep on the flight, okay? It’ll be pretty late by the time you get back home and you need to be fresh tomorrow for your big meeting,” you added.
“You need to get some sleep too, Y/N,” she said while patting your back. “I know Joe is only an hour or so behind you, but you should get some sleep. Today was rough,”.
You wished you could get some sleep, but your mind was moving at the speed of light right now so sleep was completely out of the question. You were wide awake. “I’ll try,” you lied with a faint smile. You knew Joe would be wide awake too, his brain was probably moving faster than the speed of light and you could just picture him staring out of the plane window, jaw clenched and eyes focused as he thought about everything over and over. He’d go through the motions of what went wrong, then run through it again and try to find ways he could’ve fixed it–even though the game was longgggg over.
But that was just Joe. This was a part of his process and there wasn’t much you could do other than be there for him whenever he got out of his head and needed someone to talk to.
“Don’t worry too much,” she added with a sincere smile. “Everything will be fine as long as you have Joe with you,” she said, her words matching exactly what Joe said to you earlier and what he showed during his press conference.
“Yeah,” you breathed out, “I know,”.
She was right though, it would be fine as long as he was by your side. You needed to keep reminding yourself that he wouldn’t let anything or anyone hurt you.
—
After finishing up your conversation with Emma, you walked her to her waiting Uber and exchanged one last goodbye before watching the car pull away. As you came back into the house, you sank down onto a barstool at the kitchen island, your mind swirling with a mix of emotions and thoughts that needed sorting.
You thought that Joe would most likely be in a mood once he got home since he had all the time on the plane to drive himself insane by reliving the game over and over. You hoped his mood would be slightly better than how it was last week after the game, not knowing if you had it in you to deal with everything if he came home with the same mindset and attitude as last week.
Add the fan situation to the mix and then you had the perfect recipe for a ‘stand-off angry Joe’ who would blame himself for absolutely everything and push you away while he self-destructed. You knew he would blame himself for the drunk idiots and their disgusting words towards you even though it was far from his fault, and you knew that it wouldn’t be easy to get him to move past it. You just couldn’t have him shut you out again, you needed him to talk to you more than anything this time.
You shook your head, “Stop, Y/N. He said he’d talk to me once he got home and he meant that. He knows that he can’t put himself in that situation again and shut himself down. I don’t need to worry,” reminding yourself of what he said to you earlier and the week before. “If he happens to be in a mood then I just need to do something to stop him from being in a mood. He’ll open up to me on his own terms, I can’t push him too hard,” you nodded as you looked up.
You wanted to talk to him about everything more than anything, wanted to pick at his brain and allow him to open up to you, but you knew better than to push him too hard. He hated being cornered, but you also couldn’t let him hide under his shell. Easing him into it and allowing him to naturally come to you is what you needed him to do. If he came back in a mood, you knew you’d need something to act as a buffer, something to soak up the weight of his emotions before they pulled him back to the edge like last time. You needed to do something to ease his tension while distracting him for a little bit before he started to unpack the weight of his emotions onto you.
Your eyes moved to the TV, putting on one of his favorite movies would work, right?
“No, he’d just zone out and think about the game,” you whispered to yourself as you slipped off the barstool.
Your eyes then moved to the couch, cuddling would work, right?
“Mm, Mm,” you shook your head. “Quiet time and cuddling would let the voices in his head get louder,”.
Your eyes moved toward the kitchen, and suddenly an idea sparked as your eyes landed on the small orange pumpkin decoration you’d placed by the knives–an early start on your fall decorating. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as the solution hit you. "Pumpkin pie," you whispered to yourself, a grin rising on your face. "Obviously."
Pumpkin Pie was more than just a dessert for Joe; it was more of a feeling of comfort or a reminder that even when everything felt like it was crumbling, there would still be little joys to be found in the little things. You could never get sick of the childlike smile on his adorable face when he gets the first whiff of cinnamon and nutmeg. You wanted to see him that happy all the time, and you were determined to make that happen.
“Hopefully that’ll work if he comes back acting like The Hulk,” you giggled as you walked into the pantry and started gathering all the ingredients you’d need to make his favorite dessert. This was a great distraction (for the time being) for him because it would let him drift away from football for a little bit. This was a great distraction for him and an even better distraction for you, even if you didn’t want to admit it. Deep down, you were still shaken up over everything that happened at the game, and sitting in this big, empty house with nothing but your thoughts for company? You knew exactly where that would lead. You had just as much of a tendency to spiral as Joe did, maybe even more than him sometimes.
You might not have realized that by focusing so much on his emotions, you were ignoring your own. You were used to being the calm and steady support for him, but it took a toll on you. Comforting him and worrying about his stress made you bury your own feelings, convincing yourself that they didn't matter as much as his.
By concentrating on him, you could avoid dealing with your own feelings, which is exactly what you’re doing right now. But eventually, everything you were holding back would catch up with you. For now, it was easier to pretend that baking this pie is enough, that it's the solution to both your problems.
—
The hour passed by pretty quickly as you worked on the Pie for Joe. You found yourself forgetting about the game as you bounced around the kitchen while you made the sweet dessert for him. Baking was often a big stress reliever for you and you always found yourself letting loose while accidentally covering yourself in loads of flour and sugar. You loved to bake and Joe loved to eat what you baked, it was the perfect dynamic.
You had placed the Pie in the oven not too long ago and were now cleaning up, the TV in the background however had quickly snapped you out of your playful daze.
The channel on the TV was showing an analysis of the game and your ears couldn’t help but perk up every time they mentioned Joe. They were showing constant replays of all the moments Joe was frustrated during the game, on the field, and on the sidelines. They were talking about how the Bengals should have won this game and how Joe outperformed Patrick. They were saying that this loss would for sure put a dent into the team’s confidence going forward, even going as far as talking about how their playoff odds were rapidly decreasing as well.
“A bunch of fucking idiots,” you mumbled under your breath as you stared up at the TV, your eyes welling with tears yet again without you even realizing it. How could they count them out so early? How could they count out Joe so early?
Then the TV showed a clip from his post-game press conference which really did it for you because you had to hear him mention the events from earlier that you were trying so hard to ignore.
“It was just not a good day overall for Joe. He didn’t play as well as he usually does, even made some terrible mistakes that were very unlike him to do…and his post-game conference showed a side of him none of us have ever seen. He seems distracted, unlike how he usually is out on the field. Was last year the last time we saw that ‘Elite QB’ that he claims he is? Is there a bigger issue than the team’s unpreparedness that is affecting his game? Is his personal life burdening him and serving as a distraction?” the analyst said.
You knew how intense his life was, and how demanding football could be. You had always tried to make things easier for him. But what if in trying to be supportive, you were unknowingly adding to the pressure?
Was his personal life burdening him? Were you burdening him?
“Why does this always have to happen to him?” you sobbed, the words coming out before you could stop them. It was like the emotional dam you had built had just burst and all the feelings you’d held back for hours–maybe even longer–were rushing out. Your floury hands gripped the counter as your tears fell down and mixed with the sprinkled flour all around the marble top.
You couldn’t keep it in anymore. The pressure, the criticism Joe was under, it was all so suffocating. Every time he had a bad game or a few bad moments, it was like the world turned against him. People couldn’t wait for him to slip up just so they could tear him down.
“He works s- so hard, they just don’t get it,” you cried as you wiped your eyes with the back of your hand. “He’s trying so hard, they don’t see how much pressure he puts on himself,”.
But this wasn’t just about him, it was about you too. The pressure you put on yourself for always being the strong one, being strong for him, was suffocating. You were tired of acting like it didn’t hurt; the comments and the criticism not only about him but about you too.
“Is it my fault? Am I pushing him too much? When I tell him how great he is and remind him of all the amazing shit he’s done, is that making him feel too pressured to be that guy again?” you sniffled.
You were starting to blame yourself for everything, which is the last thing you should have been doing. This was far from your fault, but your brain was so clouded by negativity and the lingering words of those drunk men for you to be able to think clearly. All you could see was everything you said to him that could have made him lose his focus and cause all this. You couldn’t see that this was all because of everything else around him—the media, the outside noise.
“And I shouldn’t have told him about what ha- happened at the suite,” you said as your sobs got louder. “He’s not focused because of me. It’s my fault,” you cried, your breaths getting shorter and shorter as your heart started racing.
Before you think about anything else, you hear the buzzing sound of the garage opening fill your ears.
Joe was home.
“Fuck,” you quickly wiped your tears and switched the TV to a different channel before he came in. He didn’t need to see you like this, especially since you thought that him seeing you like this was the root cause of all of this. You were supposed to be strong, so you needed to act like it. His support system crumbling wasn’t what he needed right now because who would be there for him when he needed someone?
You heard the door open behind you and quickly fixed your face before you turned around to see him, and what you saw broke your heart again. You immediately noticed the bags under his eyes, the defeated look on his face, and his miserable body language.
You patted your floury hands on your sweatpants before walking over to him, grabbing his wrist, and pulling him in for a tight hug. You felt him relax against you before you placed a hand around the nape of his neck and pushed his head into the crook of your neck. “Hey,” he whispered against you as you started threading your fingers through his hair.
“Hi,” you whispered as you placed a kiss on his warm cheek, feeling him let out a breath that sounded like he’d been holding it in for a while.
“I missed you,” he said while slightly shifting his head to look at you, an adorable boyish pout on his face.
“I know,” you smiled at him while leaning down to press a kiss to his lips. “I missed you too,”.
He leaned down to your neck, “Was your flight okay?” he asked you as he peppered it with slow, soft kisses, his gentle touches slowly relieving the tension you had inside of you.
“Yeah,” you lied, not mentioning how most of it was spent thinking about everything he said in his post-game press conference. “Was your flight okay?” you asked him.
“It was alright,” he sighed. “I didn’t get much sleep so I just killed time by staring out the window or reading that book you got me,” he said.
“Wait, are you tired?” you asked as you let go of him; thinking that he’d be wide awake was a mistake. Why would he be wide awake? He had a rough game and even rougher post-game, he was probably so tired.
“No, No,” he shook his head, his hands settling on either side of your hips and preventing you from moving too far away from him. “I’m wide awake but I tried to sleep on the plane just to pass the time. Obviously, that didn’t work though,” he softly laughed, his nose wiggling a few seconds later. “What smells good?” he asked, that childlike smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he caught a whiff of the cinnamon and nutmeg.
You let out a small giggle before leaning up to press another kiss to his lips, “Pumpkin Pie,” you said a few seconds later, now feeling his hands wrap around your torso.
“For me?” he asked while raising an eyebrow, a playful smirk rising on his lips. His hand slipped under your shirt, the warmth of his hand radiating through your skin and sending waves of comfort throughout your body. It was as if his touch had the power to quiet every worry in your mind and body, grounding you in a way he didn’t even realize.
You let out a dramatic sigh, “Nah, it’s for my other 6’3 quarterback boyfriend. He should be coming around in a few minutes,” you teased.
“Ha. Ha,” he laughed monotonously before continuing, “The only 6’3 quarterback boyfriend you need is already here. Thanks, baby,” he smiled a few seconds later as he pulled you even closer and pulled you up for a kiss. This one was a bit spicier than the others as his lips were instantly tugging on your bottom lip while he casually slipped his tongue into your mouth, earning a soft but sultry moan from you. His laugh vibrated through his chest and into the kiss, a shift in his energy fully visible. It was playful but with an edge.
“Mmm,” you hummed as you placed your hands on his chest and gently pushed him back. “As much as I would love to keep that going, you’ve got a sweet treat to eat,” you winked.
“Oh,” he said while raising his eyebrows. “Okay, let’s go upstairs then,” he smirked while grabbing your hand and jokingly pulling you towards the stairs.
“Joeee,” you said while pulling him back. “Not that kind of sweet treat,” you added which you received a pouty look from him in return. “...Okaaaaay, maybe later?”.
Normally he’d respond with another flirty comment but when he stared into your eyes a little more carefully and noticed how red and puffy they were, all playfulness left his body as all he could think about was the fact that you had likely been crying, likely because of him and he knew that.
“Y/N…” he began to say before you interrupted him.
“Come sit down, I’ll pull the Pie out and cut you a slice,” you smiled while grabbing his hand and leading him back over to the kitchen island, not giving him a second to say anything. Even when you were clearly upset, you still were only thinking about him.
“I don’t deserve her,” he thought to himself as he watched you plaster a smile on your face and focus on him and only him. “I don’t deserve her at all. I feel so guilty for everything that happened to her, especially because it’s all my fault, and she’s still only thinking about me? ”.
You oftentimes did this, focusing on Joe and only him while ignoring everything else around you. He was the center of your universe and everything else around you faded into the background. This habit of yours formed early on in your relationship back at LSU. Then, it was all about supporting him through his tiring practices, stressful exams, and important games. You devoted yourself to making sure he felt loved, understood, and cared for while he tried to make his mark on the field.
And now, even after all these years, your habit still hasn’t changed.
Joe saw it every time, the way you focused on him, how you gave him every ounce of your attention all the time. He didn’t say much about it, but you knew he noticed. The look in his eyes would always soften, as if he both loved and hated the fact that you put him first.
It had been like that through the whirlwind of college football, and now in the glimmer of the NFL spotlight. You were always by his side, pouring all of your energy into him and sometimes leaving none for yourself. He knew you like the back of his hand so he could tell when you were giving more than you could handle. He appreciated you so much, you were his anchor but he worried about you–worried that you carried too much of his weight without letting yourself be vulnerable too.
Even tonight, when you should’ve been taking care of yourself, you were focused on him–it was always him. It had been this way for so long, and while he knew you’d never stop looking out for him, he hoped that you’d let him do the same for you on the same level you did for him. As much as he needed you, he also knew that you needed him just as much, even if you didn’t always admit it.
“What did I do to deserve you?” he said again, this time out loud as he slipped onto a barstool and rested his chin on his hand.
“Great question. You must have done some severe manifestation to bag me,” you teased as you spun around to take out a plate from the cabinet.
Joe let out a soft chuckle, “Severe manifestation, stalking your Insta for about 2 weeks to see if you had a guy already before asking you out, memorizing your class schedule and your favorite lunch spots so I could ‘accidentally’ run into you…it’s all the same,” but stopped once he saw you take only one plate out from the cabinet. “You’re not eating?” he asked with furrowed eyebrows.
“Not hungry,” you said while flashing him the fakest smile possible as you placed the plate down in front of him before turning around to pull the Pie out of the oven. Who were you kidding? You were so hungry to the point where you could legit eat one of those fake display fruits people put out. The only thing you’d had to eat today was a bottle of orange juice and a few bites of a banana muffin this morning—other than the Vodka Cran you had during the game. You just didn’t think you could stomach anything during or after the game because your stomach was in literal knots.
You hoped that he didn’t realize you were lying to him but one thing about Joe was that he could always tell when you were lying to him. He paid extra attention to the little things about you–the sudden lightness in your voice, avoiding eye contact with him, and the oh-so-obvious fake smile. He hated when he noticed these signs because that meant you weren’t being truthful with him for whatever reason.
Without saying a word, he got up from his chair and walked around the island to the kitchen cabinets. You saw him moving out of the corner of your eye just as you were closing the oven and carefully placing the warm pumpkin pie on the counter.
“What?” he asked you, noticing that you were staring at him as he pulled out another plate and set it on the island next to his.
“Why’d you take out another one?” you asked him before you moved the Pie plate over to the island and set it near the dinner plates. Joe let out a soft laugh, the adorable crinkles in the corner of his eyes popping out as placed a gentle hand on both sides of your shoulders from behind and walked you back over to the island barstools.
“For you, silly,” he chuckled in your ear, then pressed a quick kiss to your cheek before walking back to the kitchen.
“But I’m not hungry,” you said as your eyes followed him around the kitchen, watching him take out a knife and a can of whipped cream from the fridge.
“Look at who you’re talking to,” he smiled as he began cutting a slice of Pie. I know you like the back of my hand, Y/N. I know you haven’t eaten anything all day because I know you never eat before or during a game because you want to wait so you can eat with me. Also, you feel like if you eat something you’re going to throw it up during halftime because of your nerves,”.
Your eyes softened as you watched him set a slice on your plate, and then use the whipped cream to add a small heart on top.
He knew you and your habits all too well. You shouldn’t be surprised though, this was Joe. He noted and noticed everything about you and had been doing it since the day you first met. It first started off as him noting how you liked your morning coffees before classes (so he could show up at your dorm with it and have an excuse to walk you to class) and noticing how you’d start fidgeting with the birthstone ring on your right hand whenever you felt anxious in crowded public settings (parties, at his practices, his games). Whenever he saw you doing that, he made sure to stop whatever he was doing and tend to your needs–doing whatever you needed him to do without questioning it.
Now, it had led to him noting how you liked your morning protein smoothies (so he could make them for you, obviously) before you went in for your morning workout in the gym he had designed for the both of you in your shared home. And then it was noticing all your little habits, such as fidgeting with the birthstone necklace he gave you—which had his birthstone on it—whenever you felt anxious now.
Reminding yourself of how beautifully things had changed and flourished in your relationship, how Joe so easily flipped your entire world upside down by just looking into your eyes one hot afternoon during a football practice you and your friends stumbled into, always brought a smile to your face. Even in moments when you were far from happy.
That was just the Joe effect.
You watched as he set a slice on his plate, then added whipped cream to his before placing everything down and joining you on the other side of the island. He sat down on his stool and turned to look at you and saw that you were too far from him, which he wasn’t having for even a second.
“Mm Mm, too far,” he shook his head as he grabbed the beam of your stool and pulled you over, a small shriek leaving your lips at how he easily pulled you over as if he was pulling a feather over.
Your knees were pretty much bumping into each other, that’s just how close he pulled you over. It was such a small gesture, but the significance was far more deeper. He wanted you close in every single way possible.
“My big strong man,” you giggled as you placed a hand on his knee, giving it a soft squeeze and then starting to rub it through his sweatpants’ fabric. He leaned over and started peppering featherlight kisses around your jawline and down to your neck, his lips so soft and plush-like. “But I really don’t think I can stomach the Pie regardless of how good it probably is,” you laughed.
Joe leaned back to stare into your eyes, the redness in them mocking him and his efforts to make you feel better. It was a reminder of how well you hid your feelings from him, something you both had in common. You both would hide your feelings from each other in order to protect each other. He wanted nothing more than to sweep you up in his arms and take away the hurt that hid behind those beautiful, tear-stained eyes, but this was all he could do for you right now without pushing you too much.
“Please? For me?” he pouted, sticking his bottom lip out and placing his hand over yours which was rubbing his knee. He cupped your hand and flipped it so he could intertwine your fingers, then picked it up and pressed gentle kisses on the back of your hand while staring into your eyes. Both actions cause a feeling of comforting warmth to fill your stomach.
You really didn’t feel like eating anything, but you did all this to take his mind off the game and lighten his mood, and not doing what he asked wasn’t going to help at all. The pouty look on his face was your biggest weakness so that wasn’t helping either, you could never say no to that adorable face. “Okayyy,” you giggled, giving in to his ask and then seeing his entire body light up when you grabbed the fork.��
“That’s my girl,” he smiled as his baby blue eyes lit up with a warmth that made your heart skip a beat. He then leaned in and pressed another soft kiss to your cheek, the gentle touch lingering long enough for your belly to flutter.
He then picked up his fork and dug into the pie, taking a big, generous first bite. His face went from playful to pure bliss at the first taste of the cinnamon and pumpkin. “Oh, babyyyy,” he groaned, closing his eyes for a second as he savored the taste. “This is so fucking good,”.
“That sounds all too familiar,” you smirked while raising an eyebrow at the sounds and words that left his mouth.
“Dirty dirty mind,” he shook his head and laughed while chewing on the pie in his mouth.
You smiled as you watched him take more bites of the pie, feeling a bit better because of his reaction. The tension in your body, for a second, seemed to fizzle out as you watched him enjoy what you did for him. The warmth of the kitchen, smell of the fresh pie, and the soft sounds of the TV in the background made everything feel normal again–like a safe space where you both could just be yourselves.
He took another bite, his eyes darting over to you as you continued to stare at him with hearteyes, “I’m serious, you’ve outdone yourself,” he said, his voice muffled with a mouthful of pie. “Don’t know what I’d do without you..or this pie,” he winked.
“I love you,” you blushed as you leaned over and pressed a wet kiss to his cheek.
“I love you more, but,” he said as he swallowed the bite in his mouth, “You’re still not eating,”.
You looked down and saw the fork in your hand and the untouched pie next to you, realizing you were so caught up in watching him that you hadn’t had any of the pie yourself.
“Oops,” you said while pursing your lips and staring down at the dessert.
Joe used his fork and stuck it into your pie, slicing a generous piece out before using his other hand to lift your chin. “Open up,” he said, raising his eyebrows and holding the fork in front of your mouth.
You laughed softly, “Seriously?”. The look in his charming eyes told you that he was 100% serious.
“Come on, you’ve gotta eat something,” he insisted, his tone a mix of teasing and genuine sincerity. He moved the fork closer, allowing the sweet smell of pumpkin to enter your nose while he rested his other hand on your knee this time, squeezing and rubbing just like you were doing to his knee.
You rolled your eyes before leaning in and opening your mouth to take a bite, the moment the pie touched your tongue you felt the warmth and sweetness explode in your mouth. Man, were you good at baking.
Joe attentively watched your reaction as you chewed on the slice of pie, a look of satisfaction on his face as he watched you swallow the bite. “See? Isn’t that good?” he asked.
You nodded, not being able to hide the smile rising on your face. “Yeah, you were right,” you giggled, the spices lingering on your tongue. “That’s soooooooooo good. But I think it tasted even better because you were feeding me,” you winked.
“Well, there’s more cominggggg,” he grinned as he stuck his fork in your pie again and picked up another bite before bringing it up to your mouth. “Woooosh,” the noise coming from his mouth mimicking a rocket ship as he zig-zagged his hand around.
You smiled and stared at him for a few seconds, your heart swelling at the look in his eyes. It was a look of comfort, of relaxation. Last week, the look in his eyes was cold, it was tense. But this time, it was just filled with ease and love and it was all because of you.
“Aaaaah,” you said as you opened your mouth for another bite of the delicious pie being fed to you by your favorite person on the planet.
—
After letting him feed you the rest of your pie, he gathered your dirty dishes and brought them over to the sink before coming back to his barstool and sitting down next to you again. He leaned over and captured your lips in a sweet kiss, the taste of pumpkin on both your lips making it even sweeter than usual.
“Mmm, that tasted good,” you hummed as you playfully bumped his knee with yours. You were expecting a flirtatious response from him, somehow roping in the concept of sex into the conversation because he seemed to be in that mood earlier, but instead, he just stayed quiet while staring down at the counter.
“Uh, oh,” you thought to yourself, your hips squirming in your seat at the sudden change in the atmosphere. It felt as if the room got darker, maybe even colder–just like the inside of Joe’s brain. You brought your hand up and started rubbing his back, “You okay?” you asked, nervously biting your lip because of the look on his face.
“Yeah, just thinking,” he sighed, placing his hand on your knee again.
“Thinking about anything in particular?” you said while giving him a heartfelt smile.
He took a deep breath before responding, “Talk to her, Joe. Don’t push her away again,” he thought to himself. “…D- do you think we can talk about it? About the game?” he quietly asked you, meeting your eyes a few seconds after saying that.
Joe tried to forget about it, and he did for about half an hour because of you and the pie you made for him. But he knew better than to keep everything in like that, knowing what would happen if all that stayed inside of him and built up. He refused to go back there, especially after getting a flashback of what that felt like last week.
The sudden change in his voice, his eyes, and his body language threw you for a loop. You thought this would distract him for a bit longer, but it didn’t.
But wait. Why did you want to distract him for longer? You wanted him to open up to you, confide in you. So why did you want him to not think about the game?
Was it because you were the one who didn’t want to talk about it? You didn’t want to unpack those feelings, not his, but your own?
“No. He needs me right now. I can’t let my feelings get in the way,” you thought to yourself, “Be strong for him, Y/N. Stop being selfish.”
“Y- yeah,” you nodded. “What’s going on in your head?” you asked as you slid your hand up to his hair, threading the strands through your fingers while lightly scratching his scalp.
“I’m just so frustrated, Y/N,” he sighed. “We were supposed to win, we were going to win,”.
“I know,” you said, letting out a shaky breath as your body braced itself for whatever was about to come out of his mouth.
“And I played like total shit. That fumble just gifted them 6 extra points and if I didn’t lose the ball like a fucking idiot, we would have likely won the game,” he said as his eyes welled with tears. “And we’re right back where we were. 0-2 as fucking usual and it’s my fault,” he sniffled.
“It’s not your fault, Joey,” you frowned. “The whole team could have done better, especially the defense. You did so good, much better than last week,”.
“Not good enough,” he said, his voice laced with self-criticism. “It wasn’t good enough…I wasn’t good enough. I try so hard, you know? I do everything I’m supposed to, even more, 90% of the time. But things..they..they never go my way,” he added, the crack in his voice breaking your heart for the millionth time today.
“I know, Joe. Trust me, I know,” you said as you lowered your head to catch his eyes. “But you can’t be this hard on yourself, you know that right?”.
“The flags, the Ja’marr thing, the stupid fucking mistakes. It all just went to shit so fucking fast,” he said as he turned to meet your eyes, ignoring what you said. “And our playoff odds keep decreasing which makes this even worse. If we go 0-3, I don’t think-,”.
“Joe, stop,” you said while moving your hand to cup his cheek. “You’re doing it again,”.
“I just…I can’t help it? I just feel like I let everyone down again,” he started to say and quickly kept going once he saw you start to open your mouth to say something. “And I know. I know what you told me last week, I heard you loud and clear. I thought I could go out and get it done this week and I acted like it too. During practice, in the press conference, over the phone to you, in the locker room to the guys–but once again I fucked up, and look at what happened,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper as you saw his bottom lip start to quiver. “I k- know why we lost but I do- don’t at the same time?” he choked out, a single tear falling from his eye and sliding down his cheek. “I did everything I could and I still feel like I’m letting everyone down,” he repeated, his breaths getting shorter. “Especially you,” he whispered.
You felt your eyes pool with tears, your emotions threatening to spill out as you stared at him. Seeing him like this, weak and questioning himself, was the one thing that could break you into a thousand pieces. He was so confident and strong in the face of adversity but in these quiet moments, those voices in his head were the loudest and he couldn’t help it. The doubts crept in and he started to undermine his success, and that shattered you.
Watching him struggle with his confidence cut deeper than any of your own insecurities. You knew how much he gave to football, how much he sacrificed for this, how much he loved what he did. It crushed you to see him struggle like this and for a second think that he was letting anyone down. To you, Joe was more than enough–on and off the field–and seeing him question that was making you feel an unbearable amount of pain.
“Joe,” you whispered, your voice shaky just like his. “You’re not letting anyone down. Especially me, I swear. You don’t see yourself the way I do,”.
You saw his glossy eyes soften, searching yours for any sort of comfort and relief but as he gazed into your eyes, you knew he could see the emotions you were holding back. The mix of fear and love, concern and support. His vulnerability mirrored your own, and that made this hurt even more.
“I know you feel like you’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders and it feels like those shoulders are wobbly right now,” you nodded, feeling the tension–the burden of everything he carries both on and off the field radiate through his eyes. “But I promise you, Joe,” you whispered. “You’re strong enough to handle all of this. Even when it feels like too much, even when you doubt yourself. You’ve shown how strong and capable you are time and time again and everyone knows how talented you are. Don’t let one game define a legendary, history-making career, Joe. Don’t let yourself forget who you are. You have all of this because of your talent, your success, and your abilities. You’re the kid from small-town Athens, the third-stringer from Ohio State, the star quarterback of the LSU Tigers, and the franchise quarterback of the Cincinnati Bengals. But most importantly, you’re one of the best to ever step onto that field and hold onto that football. Don’t forget who that kid is, who that boy is, who that man is, and who that player is. I know it feels like you’ve been hitting wall after wall every season, feeling like you’re losing something each time you get onto the field but everything you lose is a step you take,” you said. “You make mistakes, you learn from them, and you revise and get better each time. That’s what you do, Joe,”.
“Don’t feel pressured to do everything on your own. You don’t need to blame yourself for the loss, you don’t need to blame yourself for the slow start. You don’t have to do this alone,” you continued, your voice raw but completely reassuring. “Everyone’s here with you, Joe. I’m here with you. We’ll carry the weight together, okay?”.
“No.” he shook his head. “You don’t…you won’t do that,” he said, his voice rougher but still laced with a tone that made you want to never stop crying. “I don’t want you in any situation like that, not after what happened today,”.
You felt your stomach churn at the mention of today’s events. You really didn’t want to go there, but you knew you had no choice. Majority of the reason Joe was upset was because of what you had to deal with during the game. Yeah, he was frustrated about the loss, but the way you were treated made it so much more worse because that was a direct hit to his heart. “Joe, I-,” you began to say before you heard a soft sob come from in front of you.
“I’m s- so sorry, Y/N,” he said as he looked back into your eyes, his tears now fully streaming down his face. “I’m so fucking sorry that you have to deal with all of my shit. And year by year it just keeps getting worse for you and I can’t do anything to stop it. When I first started off in the league, your only worries were if I was able to go out there and throw the ball and have a chance to show everyone what I was capable of. N- now, you have to constantly worry about my in- injuries and what people say about m- me,” he sobbed, his tears falling faster and his body starting to shake.
You quickly reached out for him, placing your hand on the back of his neck and pulling him over so that he was laying his head on your chest. “Joe, baby,” you whispered, cradling his head as you tried to keep your tears at bay.
“Y- you had to pick up so much slack every time I g- got hurt,” he cried into your chest as you threaded your fingers through his hair. “You did so much for me that nobody ever saw, nobody will ever see. And they treat you like that? Because they fucking hate m- me?”.
“Shhh, shhh. It’s okay, Joe,” you calmly said to him as you leaned down to press a kiss to his hair. “I’m fine, I swear,” you sniffled, holding back your tears as best as you could.
“N- no,” he continued, “You’re not. I knew you were crying b- before I got home. It was because of me, right? Because of what I said in the press conference?” he asked, looking up at you through his wet, glossy eyes.
Your eyebrows softened, and before you could even find the right words, your eyes said everything for you.
“I knew it,” he continued as he hid his face in your chest again, your shirt fully soaked from his tears.
“J- Joe…,” you trembled, taking a deep breath before continuing. “Stay strong, Y/N. He needs his support system right now,” you thought to yourself. “Please stop crying, baby. Please? You don’t need to apologize for a single thing,” you continued with a more stable voice. “I know you’re trying to protect me,”.
“Yes, I do," Joe choked out. "Because now you have to worry about getting insulted and harassed by random fans who have some vendetta against me, but think it’s okay to take it out on y- you." His voice broke, and you could see the guilt flooding his eyes. "You’re the only person who’s truly stuck by my side through everything. You do so much for me, and you don’t deserve to be treated like that but you are, because of me. You had the most awful things said to you and it was all my fucking fault. It was my fault you were crying. It was my fault you couldn’t enjoy the game. It was my fault that earlier after the game, you felt like you had to hide this from me,".
He took a shaky breath, the weight of his words hitting him harder as he continued. "You can’t even go to a fucking game without getting hurt because of me," his shoulders trembled slightly. "I- I’m always hurting you, aren’t I?" he wept, those last four words coming out in a broken whisper as if they physically pained him to say. His grip on you tightened as if you were the only thing holding him together and preventing him from crumbling into a pile of dust.
Hearing him say those words ripped you apart. He was hurting, and it shattered you to think that he saw himself as the cause of your pain.
“Joe,” you said as you tightened your embrace around him, “You’re not hurting me,” you added as you gently cupped his face with one hand. “You’re not,”.
“You’ve never hurt me, Joe. Not once,” you said as you wiped away the tears that were freely falling down his face. “What those people say, what they do–it’s not your fault. None of that is in your control and it doesn’t, for a second, change how much I care for you. How much I care for this world you’ve built for us,” you blinked your tears away and added.
Joe shook his head, refusing to accept your words, but you continued on regardless. “You mean everything to me and I’m not going anywhere, no matter what. You’ve never once hurt me in the 5 years we’ve been together. You’ve never given me a reason to think about running for the hills, never given me a reason to ever think about what my life would be like without you. You’ve showered me with so much love, so much happiness that I never thought was possible. You are perfect, Joe. In every aspect. It’s going to take a lot more than just some idiotic, insecure, flawed football bros to get to me and leave your side. Hell, the entirety of Kansas City isn’t even enough to pull me away from you,” you said as you leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Please stop blaming yourself for what other people do. It’s not your fault that the team lost this game and it’s not your fault that some men in this world just have small-dick energy all the time,” the last bit of what you said lighthearted on purpose.
You notice a small, brief smile begin to form on his face after you finish talking. It was faint, but it was there. Seeing that smile, even just a glimpse of it, filled your chest with relief. Your words had reached him, if only a little. “I love you, Joe. I love you no matter what,” you said while resting your chin on his head and holding him close to your heart as you felt him start to loosen up.
“I- I love you too,” he whispered against your chest, pushing himself deeper into your embrace and wishing he could just melt into your body and forget about all his worries.
In that moment, you could feel how much he needed this–how much he needed you.
Your words and your touch were his anchor, his support. You grounded him when the weight of everything threatened to pull him under and in these quiet moments, that anchor allowed himself to be vulnerable and to lean on you completely. And you were more than willing to hold him up, even if it meant setting your feelings aside.
You moved your hand to his back, gently rubbing circles around his frame in soothing patterns to ease his discomfort. “I’ve got you,” you whispered softly, feeling his breathing even out second by second. “Nothing’s gonna hurt you, baby,” you whispered before holding him a little tighter.
An hour later
You got him to calm down a little, but deep down, you knew this wasn’t something that could be fixed in one conversation. It wasn’t just about losing the game tonight, it was about you. And when it came to you, Joe never played around. This wasn’t going to be an easy thing for him to move past and the look that lingered in his eyes told you that. Honestly, you hadn’t even moved past it yourself. But you didn’t want to unload your feelings onto him, not right now. He needed you to be his rock, his safe place, and you couldn’t let yourself add to the storm swirling in his head.
You brought him upstairs a little after he stopped crying and calmed down. You told him that he needed to shower, not because he stank, but just so he could wash the day off himself.
While he sat on the bed, you went into the closet and pulled out his favorite pair of sweats, clean boxers, and a comfortable shirt for him and set them inside the bathroom before turning the shower on and setting it to the temperature you knew he loved. You then motioned for him to come inside with a sweet smile on your face.
“Your shower awaits, my king,” you playfully bowed and said, earning a soft chuckle from him. “Thank god he can still laugh,” you thought to yourself.
“Thank you,” he rasped with a smile, his voice still scratchy from crying earlier, as he slid off the bed and walked to the bathroom where you were, “My queen,” he added with a soft kiss to your lips.
After watching him get undressed and slip into the shower, you quietly went back out to grab another shirt to replace the tear-stained one that was clinging to your body. When you stepped back inside, the sound of the water running and the silhouette of Joe moving against the foggy glass filled the space. You walked over to the vanity, setting the shirt down on the counter. For a second, you stood still, gripping the edges of the counter. Your eyes met your own reflection in the mirror and you saw the undeniable tiredness behind them as well as the redness from the tears you shed earlier. Your eyes softened for a second, the urge to start crying coming back but before a tear could fall from your eye, you wiped your eyes, “Hold it together, Y/N,” you whispered to yourself. “He needs you right now,”.
“Y/N?” a voice from behind you asked.
You quickly turned around and saw Joe peeking his head out from the shower, his hair soaking wet and water droplets sliding down his body and onto the floor. “Can you come in, please?” he asked with a pout.
You quietly stared at him for a few seconds before quickly breaking eye contact and flinging your clothes off so you could join him, which resulted in another adorable chuckle from his lips. You needed to wash the day off just as much as he did.
Once you slipped into the shower with him, the heat of the water instantly embraced you. Before you could fully settle in, Joe pulled you into him, his hands gently gripping your waist as his lips found yours with a frantic intensity. The way his lips were moving against yours was deep, raw, and full of emotion. He needed to feel you, he needed to remind himself that you were still there and that you weren’t going to leave.
His hand slid up your back, which was now wet as both of you were standing under the rainfall shower head, his gentle fingers tracing shapes around your back as he deepened the kiss. Your arms wrapped around his neck, one hand moving into his wet hair as the other hand rubbed his shoulder.
His lips didn’t leave yours for a single second as the water poured over both of you. Every inch of your skin was drenched, the droplets sliding down your body, but that didn’t matter. The water was washing away all of the emotions of the day and was leaving you two in your own intimate bubble. However, nothing about what was happening in the shower carried any sexual energy, it was pure love and comfort. You could feel that he needed this more than anything, and you were right there for him.
His hands continued to roam around your body, slowly but deliberately as he continued to remind himself that you were right there with him. A few seconds later, his lips left yours as he started trailing soft kisses down your wet jawline and neck. Each press of his lips against your skin felt like an apology and a promise all at once–his way of saying that you were his safe space, his sanctuary, and that he was sorry that something came so close to infiltrating his safe space and that he promised it wouldn’t happen again.
He then moved his forehead to rest against yours, briefly staring into your eyes, before mumbling, “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” while gently squeezing your hips.
You looked into his tired baby blues before cupping his face with your hands, “It’s a good thing you’ll never have to find out,” you whispered, then leaning forward to capture his lips in the soft kiss again, your noses brushing against each other as you pulled him in closer.
You felt awful that Joe was feeling like this–mentally, physically, and emotionally exhausted. You wanted nothing more than to kiss his worries away and get rid of all the doubt and the pain by doing such a simple task. He didn’t deserve to feel this pain, this disappointment, this self-doubt. He worked so hard for everything, for football, for you–and seeing his hard work not pay off felt like a constant punch in the gut. Nothing hurts worse than seeing the person you love give their all to something–no matter how draining it was–and for it to rarely give anything back.
It was even more painful when you saw him cry because of you. The thought of you being a burden, you adding to his stress, was still stuck in your mind. You felt guilty because most of this was your fault. If you weren’t there, then those men wouldn’t have said anything; Joe wouldn’t have a reason to feel this guilty.
He blamed himself for the entire situation, and you blamed yourself. Except, he was being open about his feelings with you and you weren’t. The roles were reversed from last week. You were shutting him out in order to remain strong for him, and he knew that which made him feel even guiltier.
“I love you,” he said in between the tender kiss, snapping you out of your daze as his hand cupped your cheek and thumb traced your cheekbone.
“I love you, forever,” you replied, your hand pushing his lips back onto yours. He needed to remind himself that you were still there, but you needed to remind yourself that he was still there too. Even if you didn’t want to admit it to him.
—
After helping him shower, you finally got him comfortable in bed. The tiredness on his face was evident, but his mind was clearly still spiraling. It was a long day, emotionally draining for both of you, but you knew he needed rest more than anything right now.
You slipped into the bed next to him, immediately turning to your side and pulling him into your body. His hands instinctively wrapped around your waist as he laid his cheek against your chest, your hands threading through his damp hair as you pressed light kisses around his face.
“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he whispered a few quiet minutes later as he looked up at you with his tired eyes.
“Shh, Joe,” you cooed as you moved his head back to your chest. “It’s okay, you’re okay, I’m right here. Go to sleep, baby,” you added with a kiss to his forehead, your heart breaking at his confession because that meant you were right; he wasn’t over it.
He gave you a small nod before taking a deep breath, “I love you, Y/N. Thank you for everything you do for me,” he whispered, pressing a few kisses to your chest before fluttering his eyes closed.
The rest of the hour was spent like this, with Joe wrapped tightly around your body. His head rested against your chest as you contuted to whisper gentle sweet nothings into his ear in hopes of soothing his restless mind. Occasionally, you’d press soft kisses against his forehead, his hair, and his cheek–each kiss adding to the palliative effect. Slowly, the tension was leaving his body and his breathing evened out. Your fingers continued to move in his hair, your nails lightly scratching his scalp which you knew always calmed him down. “I love you,” you repeatedly whispered with a gentle kiss to his temple. “I love you too, like a lot a a lot,” you said, echoing what he often times said to you.
About thirty minutes later, Joe was finally passed out like a baby, his face relaxed and free from worry. You glanced down at him, a soft smile tugging at your lips at the sight of him peacefully asleep and because of the sound of his soft snores.
“Thank god,” you whispered, relief washing over you because you got his brain to turn off for the night.
But unlike Joe’s brain, yours was still moving at the speed of light. Now that everything around you was quiet again, the voices in your head got louder. Normally, you were usually the one who had trouble falling asleep and Joe would be there to help you, but this time it was the opposite.
You stared up at the ceiling for a few minutes, hoping and wishing that doing this would bore you to sleep somehow, but you were so wrong.
You let out an exhausted sigh before reaching over and grabbing your phone from the nightstand, making sure to quickly dim the brightness so it wouldn’t wake Joe up. “Looking at old photos always calms me down,” you whispered to yourself as you opened the photos app on your phone, getting ready to do what you did last week after you and Joe’s argument. Looking through old photos, specifically from happy moments, always seemed to calm you down in moments just like these.
You made an album specifically for photos of you and Joe in your photo app; it was like a little treasure box of memories that always brought a smile to your face. It was also your secret weapon for moments like these–when things got heavy and you needed a reminder of the simple times.
You tapped the randomizer button, your usual go-to when you wanted some nostalgia with a hint of surprise. This button would pull up any photo from any year, any moment, without any warning–which is why it was so special. You never knew what photo you would see, but it was always guaranteed to be a moment worth reliving.
You tapped the button, this time a photo of the two of you from 2020 popped up on your screen.
You were in the driver’s seat of the new car Joe had just bought and he was right next to you holding the camera–a pure, deeply in love smile and look on both your faces.
Flashback to 2020
“God, this car is amazing,” you smiled over at Joe as you turned onto the next street in your neighborhood.
“I know right?” he nodded. “It feels like we’re gliding on the clouds or something, it’s so smooth,”.
Currently, you two were driving around your new neighborhood that you had just moved into in Cincinnati, a few months post-NFL draft. Joe had recently purchased his first luxury car with his contract money, a beautiful sleek Maybach, and you were spending the evening driving it around and enjoying your quiet time together in your new city.
Joe drove you around downtown Cincinnati first–both of you making a list of food places you were going to try, parks you were going to visit, and the prime date night spots–and then offered to switch places with you once you got back to the suburbs area. At first, he was going to let you drive around the city instead of him, but you were way too scared that you'd end up hitting something or crashing to let yourself even think about sitting behind the wheel. But, after a half hour of him sweet-talking you and reassuring you everything was going to be alright while driving, you were now in the driver's seat and were whipping the car around like it was no big deal.
That was the Joe effect.
"I love dating a rich man," you winked at him, earning an eyebrow raise from him that would send you straight to your knees if you were standing up right now.
"Well, I love being a rich man who can spoil his sexy girlfriend at any time he feels like," he smirked.
"Are you sure you don't love being my passenger princess even more?" you giggled as you reached over to turn the air conditioner down when you saw him pull the sleeve of his hoodie down. "You look pretty damn comfy over there," you said while looking down at his feet, which were only covered with his socks as he decided to take his shoes off.
"Oh, baby I am comfy," he groaned. "This seat is like a marshmallow or something," he sighed as he wiggled his shoulders against the seat.
"I told you," you smiled, hitting the right turn signal as you approached the stop sign. "I just wish we could figure out how to set up the audio system. I'm missing our music right about now and was hoping we could do some car karaoke today," you sighed as you turned right and started going down another street.
"Yeah, I know," Joe sighed next to you, cupping your upper thigh with his hand, prompting you to glance down for a second. "Ah, ah," he shook his head when he noticed you looking down, "Eyes on the road,".
"You better not move that hand any higher, Burrow," you said while giving him a heated look, knowing his hands were dangerously close to a certain spot.
"I won't, I won't," he nodded with a cheeky smile, knowing the hold he had over you. "But anyway. Since we don't have music to keep ourselves entertained, how about a short, our version, game of 20 questions?".
"Oooo," you said with wide eyes. "I love that idea!” you chirped. “Let’s make it couple themed too, to add to the vibe,”.
“You got it,” he smiled over at you, his heart swelling as he watched you sitting so relaxed next to him, driving your new car, in your new neighborhood, in your new life together. It was silly, but he couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe he was getting to do this with you, the one he loved the most. Back at LSU, the thought of this happening was a dream for him even though he was watching it all unfold right under his nose. It didn’t really hit him that you two were doing this–starting the next phase of your lives, the adult phase, the phase where you were together together in every single aspect–until you two had signed the lease for your first home together last month.
“Okay, the first question for you,” you smiled. “What’s the romantic thing you’ve ever imagined us doing together?”.
Joe looked ahead on the road as he thought of his answer, but he really didn’t need to think for that long because the answer was so obvious as he’d thought about it about a hundred times every night before going to sleep. “Getting married,” he turned his head and smiled at you.
Married.
You felt your stomach do a backflip when those words registered in your head. He’d never said this to you before or ever brought up the idea of getting married, even though it was all you could think about after your first date back at LSU. You thought that it was just your brain getting overexcited at the possibility of your childhood fantasy of marrying Prince Charming coming true–and your first date together solidified that he was the Prince Charming you were waiting for–but you had no idea that he felt the same way.
“When we’re ready, of course,” he added, snapping you out of your trance.
You looked over at him, your eyes twinkling with love for him which made his heart skip a beat. “Really?” you breathed out.
“Hell yeah,” he smiled. “You’re my girl, my lady. My one and only. Why would I want to pass up on making an extraordinary woman like you, my wife?” he asked with an adorable smile. There was a certainty in his voice, a certainty that left no room for doubt. Joe had always been sure of you, even when you got in your head and questioned things. The way he said it, with that cute, boyish smile, it was impossible not to feel it too–the deep love and the absolute certainty he had in the two of you.
“I love you,” you pouted, watching him lean in and press a quick kiss to your lips.
“I love you more than anything in the universe,” he winked.
“Okay, my turn again,” you beamed as you looked back onto the road, Joe nodding beside you and rubbing his thumb across your thigh. “If you could describe our chemistry in a sentence, what would you say?” you asked him.
Joe’s eyes sparkled with a soft smile as he thought about your question. “I’d say our chemistry is like lightning in a bottle–rare because so many people search for what we have their entire life, unpredictable like anything could happen which keeps us on our toes but also not too unpredictable because we’re lightning in a bottle so it’s contained and secure, and full of energy, but always electric whenever we’re together,”.
“So sweet and poetic,” you smiled as you glanced over at him. “If football ever gets boring, I think you should write a poetry book."
Joe chuckled, his hand still resting on your thigh as he gave it a playful squeeze. “Oh yeah?” he smirked. “Think I’ve got what it takes to be the next great romantic poet?” he winked, clearly amused by the idea, but the way he looked at you–like you were his muse–made it feel like maybe he could.
“Mhm. I think you can write a better Sonnet 18 than Shakespeare did,” you teased.
“I appreciate the confidence,” he grinned as he moved his hair back with his fingers. “Okay, I have a question for you,”.
“Shoot,” you replied.
“What’s the most enticing way I can wake you up?” he smirked, the energy in the car going from playful to sensual within 5 seconds of him saying that.
“With your head in between my thighs,” you blushed. “That feeling of your soft scruff rubbing against my skin, your beautiful nose against my clit…Ugh, it’s too perfect. Best way to wake up,”.
“Damn, you didn’t even have to think about that one,” he laughed.
“Nope. It’s happened all too many times for me to prefer any other way of getting woken up. Except for that one morning, the morning after the date you told me you loved me, when that almost made me miss my psychology exam,” you giggled. “Then I would’ve preferred a coffee to wake me up but every other time, that’s the best way,”.
“Good to know,” he chuckled. “Okay, next question. If we could have a dance party, just us, what song would you dance with me to?”.
“Teenage Dream, Katy Perry. Duh,” you grinned. “You make me feel like I'm livin' a teenage dream, the way you turn me on, I can't sleep, let's run away, and don't ever look back, don't ever look back,” you sing.
“My heart stops when you look at me, just one touch now baby I believe, this is real, so take a chance and don't ever look back, don't ever look back,” he sings along with you.
“Damn, okay Katy,” you giggled, applauding his ability to stay on the pitch and sing with you.
“Thanks, babe,” he smiled, doing a little bow in his seat.
“Oo, I have another one. What’s one thing you love about me that you don’t tell me enough?” you asked him with an eager smile.
“Hmm, that’s a good one,” he said, biting his lip as he thought carefully about what to say. A few seconds later, he looked at you with an almost shy smile. “How strong you are,” he said. “You don’t realize it, but you’re the strongest person I know. You always take care of everyone else–your friends, family, me–without ever asking for anything in return. And you never give yourself enough credit for how much you handle. I don’t tell you that enough, but I see it every day,”.
“I’m gonna cry,” you pouted, placing your hand on his which was resting on your thigh. “I love love loveee you,” you said as you brought his hand up, intertwined your fingers, and brought it up to your lips for a kiss.
“I love you,” he smiled, those three words always coming from his lips and never getting old or redundant. Since he said it so often, it was a constant reminder of how deep-rooted his love was for you. He was all in for you, so infatuated with you to the point where being without you caused him physical pain.
You turned onto the next street–the street where your house was–which signaled the game was coming to an end. “Since we’re almost home, I take the final question,” Joe smiled as he sat up in his seat and reached down to slip his shoes on.
“Okay,” you grinned.
“What’s one thing that I could do that would turn you on immedi-,” he began to say but before he could finish answering you interrupted him.
“The eye-brow raise,” you blurted out, a crimson blush rising on your face at the mental image of him doing the one thing that sent you straight to your knees in front of him.
“Oh?” he said, surprised at your straightforwardness.
You slowly turned your head to him, your eyes widening when you saw him doing said eyebrow raise at you right now as you turned into the garage of your home. “Joseph Lee!” you shrieked, slapping his thigh gently.
“I mean, we are home now,” he laughed, the smirk on his face screaming trouble. “At least we won’t have to get the car dirty,”.
You stared at him with your jaw practically on the floor before he laughed again and used his hand to close your jaw. “Just kidding,” he smiled, “Maybe..” he added with a whisper.
“Mhmmmm,” you squinted your eyes and nodded as you turned off the car.
“Anywayyy,” he said as he unbuckled his seat belt and turned to you. “You like driving the car?”.
You unbuckled your seatbelt and turned to face him, matching his movements, “I mean Of course, who wouldn’t? It’s a Maybach,” you giggled.
“Great, it’s your new car,” he grinned.
Your eyes widened, “What?” you gasped, your voice filled with disbelief.
He laughed, his smile getting even bigger at your reaction. “Yup, it’s all yours. Figured it was time you had something this valuable to match how valuable you are,”.
You stared at him with a mix of emotions swirling in your body, “You’re kidding right?” you asked, half expecting him to say it was a joke. “I thought this was your car?”.
“Nope. I’m getting a Porche for myself. This one is just for you, a special car for my special girl,” he smiled.
You blankly stared at him for a few seconds before sliding your Uggs off and hopping over the center console, into Joe’s lap. You couldn’t believe that he just bought this car for you, something so expensive and grand. It was just for you.
He really loved you more than anything in the world, and everything he did just showed you how all in he was for you. This was another thing added to the list, a very long, lengthy, beautiful list.
You didn't even ask him for anything, he just knew.
“Woahh, hey,” he laughed as his hands instantly went to your waist.
“I fucking love you,” you grinned as you started attacking his face with kisses. “Like I seriously don’t deserve you at all,”.
“You deserve everything and more, baby. You deserve the world and I can���t wait to give it to you,” he said to you, the look in his eyes sending chills down your spine.
“Thank you, Joe. Thank you for all of it,” you smiled before you started peppering kisses around his jawline, feeling his scruff against your lips.
“No need to thank me. You deserve it for all you do for me,” he smiled.
“I do need to thank you,” you said as you pulled away from him and looked into his eyes, your eyes now filled with mischief and pure heat.
He raised his eyebrows at your teasing expression, “Okay if you insist. But how so?”.
You looked him up and down as you licked your lips, an idea sparking inside your head. You leaned forward and placed your lips at his ear, “I think we should christian the new car? For its other use, not just driving. What do you think?” you whispered to him.
“I think that we should get the car dirty,” he smirked as he moved your head back to his view and started kissing his way down your neck.
“Huh, that’s funny. I was thinking the same thing,” you smirked as you pulled his face back up to yours.
End of Flashback
The photo then changed to another one from 2020. This one specifically was from January 13th, 2020.
You were in Joe’s apartment, tangled in the sheets of his bed with him, and he was holding the camera in front of you both as you both sported lazy, high-on-the-feeling type smiles on your faces.
“That was a fun night,” you smiled, immersing yourself in the memory again.
Flashback to Joe’s apartment – January 13th, 2020
“Fuck, that was good,” Joe breathed out as he fell back against the sheets, turning his head over to look at you to make sure you were alright.
“You have...a lot of energy,” you panted with a satisfied smile as you came down from your high, turning your head to look over at him through his messy hair.
“I feel like I can run a marathon,” he lazily chuckled as he propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at you.
“No running marathons tonight, we’re celebrating,” you winked as you leaned forward to press a kiss to his bicep.
“That’s okay, I’ll just use my energy on you,” he smirked, “If you can handle it,”.
You let out an offended scoff, “Excuse me? Think I can’t match your stamina?”.
Joe looked around the room, avoiding eye contact with you as a smirk tugged at his lips. You grabbed a pillow from behind you and gently slapped his chest with it, “May I remind you of your birthday last month?” you giggled, reminding him of that very very long night you two spent in his apartment celebrating his birthday, alone.
“Okay, Okay,” he said, taking back what he said. “Fair point. You can handle it,”.
“Damn right, I can. I’m a National Champion’s girlfriend now, I can handle anything,” you smiled as you laid back against the sheets again, stretching your arm out to cup his face and rubbing your thumb along his cheek.
“I’m really glad you didn’t mind celebrating here, just the two of us,” he said a few quiet seconds later as he moved your hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss to your palm.
“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else or with anyone else, Joe. You’re all I need,” you said to him as you pulled him down and pressed your soft lips against his.
“That’s great because,” he said between the kiss, “I really didn’t want to be out there tonight,” he said as he went back to your lips, maneuvering himself in the sheets so he was on top of you again.
The LSU Tigers had just won the National Championship just a few short hours ago at the Mercedes Benz Superdome in New Orleans. The entire city was alive with celebration and excitement, and the team was riding the high of their victory tonight. While most of the players and their partners were hitting up every club and bar on Bourbon Street, you found yourself in a quieter, more intimate setting.
After wrapping up his media appearances for the night, Joe surprised you. You thought you two would just go with the rest of the team to whichever bar they wanted to raid first but Joe just had a feeling you were slightly opposed to the idea of bar hopping all night because he knew you didn’t really enjoy getting blackout drunk in order to have fun, and he was the same. So instead, he took your hand and led you to the car, alone–just the two of you.
The streets, the media, the entire state was buzzing with thrill and excitement over tonight’s game and Joe’s NFL ready performance, but Joe was only thinking about you. He knew how great the game was, how good he looked, and what this meant for his future as a Pro. But he could care less about all that right now. For him, tonight wasn’t about the parties, the lights, or the drinking–it was about sharing this moment with you. The person who had been with him since the start of his journey down here.
“My little hermit crab,” you giggled as you pulled away from the kiss. “Even when it’s all about you, you still want to hide away in your shell,”.
“Well, I’m not alone in my shell,” he pouted, “I have you and that’s all I’ll ever need,”.
“I love you,” you said as you brushed your nose against his. “And I’m so proud of you,”.
“Babyyy,” he shyly said while stuffing his face in your neck to hide his rosy cheeks.
“What?” you said as you looked down at him. “I think I deserve to tell you how proud I am of you an unlimited amount of times tonight,”.
“You’re gonna get tired of it,” he mumbled against your neck as he was pressing sloppy kisses around the bare skin.
“Oh, I am never getting tired of saying it I’ll have you know that,” you said as you stuffed your hand into his hair and played with his curls. “You always find a way to make me prouder so I’m always going to have something new to be proud of,”.
“...Keep talking,” he said a few seconds later as he moved his head so that it was laying in your neck.
“Gladly,” you said as you pressed a kiss to his forehead, your voice soft and filled with emotion. “Do you even realize how far you’ve come? You’re not just the guy who won the College Football National Title tonight. You’re that kid from Athens, Ohio who fought his way from being a third-string quarterback–someone who people didn’t believe in, someone who thought his shot might never come as he sat on the bench for every game,”.
Joe stayed quiet as he listened closely to what you were saying to him. “You broke free from that, baby. You took every challenge, and every setback, and used it as fuel to get here. You didn’t give up when things weren’t going your way, and now look at you? National Champ, Star QB, and a leader of a team that believed in you because you believed in yourself,”.
“That little boy from Athens has come so far. So far from throwing a football in front of twenty, maybe thirty people at a pee-wee football game, to throwing a football in front of thousands of fans with even millions more watching from TV. You’ve worked so hard for this and I want you to be as proud of yourself as I am of you. Because tonight…you didn’t just with the trophy. You proved to yourself, you proved to everyone, that betting on yourself always works. That you are so much more than everyone gave you credit for. You proved that Joe Burrow is that guy and is going to be that guy for years to come,” you added, feeling him hold onto you a little tighter as you continued talking.
“You did this, Joe. You did the damn thing you always dreamed of doing as a little boy. And this wasn’t just some lucky break, this was you turning that dream into reality. Every time you threw a football in the park with me when you got here, every practice, every struggle–it brought you here. You didn’t let anyone’s doubts or opinions stop you. This win, this night–it’s everything you’ve worked for, everything you’ve earned. And it’s just the beginning of your story. Who knows where you’re going to end up after the draft, but all I know right now is that you’ve done what you set out to do. Whether it’s to the NFL or wherever life takes you, you’ve shown nothing can hold you back. The sky isn’t the limit, Joe,” you said while feeling him press a kiss to your jaw and then a wet droplet streaming down your neck, likely a tear droplet from his eyes. “Little Joey Burrow from Athens who used to look up at the sky, dreaming of moments like these? He’s made it. He’s touched the sky. And now, nothing is stopping him from reaching even higher than the sky,”.
“I am eternally proud of you,” you said, ending your sweet speech with another kiss on his forehead.
You hear Joe’s soft sniffles come from under you, “I love you, Y/N. I really fucking love you. I think out of everything that’s happened to me since coming to LSU, including tonight, you’re by far the best thing. I don’t know how I lived my life all those years without you, to be honest. And I know I can’t live the rest without you either,”.
“Aww, Joey,” you cooed. “I can’t live without you either,” you said as you brought his face back up to yours and mashed your lips against his. “I can’t and I won’t,” you said as you pecked his lips. “Can I go where you go? Can we always be this close, forever and ever?” you asked him, the look in both your eyes answering that question for you both without needing to say anything.
“You don’t need to ask me, baby. You’re going where I’m going whether you like it or not,” he smiled. “It’s you and me for infinity,”.
“Good,” you nodded, a warm feeling in your heart as you two lightly touched the topic of your future together. “I’m not letting go of you if you want me t-, ahhh!” you shrieked as Joe grabbed your waist and easily flipped you over so that you were on top of him.
“What were you saying?” he smirked as his hands gripped your waist with an intensity that matched the look in his eyes.
“Damn, you’re strong,” you giggled as you leaned forward and moved his hair out of his eyes, your bare breasts dangling in front of his face which was all he could think about now.
“Damn, you’re sexy,” he groaned as he slid his hands up your bare back, pushing you forward so that he could latch his mouth onto a nipple.
You fluttered your eyes closed as you felt him swirl his tongue around your sensitive bud, “Ohh, yeah,” you whispered, your hips rocking against his as a jolt of pleasure vibrated through your tired body.
“Mm, I wanna taste you,” he said as he pressed kisses along your sternum before moving to your other breast. “I think I deserve a sweet treat for winning the Championship,”.
Joe’s breath hitched as your hands slid up his chest, your fingernails gently scratching his skin, His eyes darkened as they locked on yours, the intensity between you building with each parting second.
“I mean, it’s only fair,” you shrugged playfully, your voice soft but laced with desire. You bit your lip before adding, “But I want to ride you,” meeting his gaze with a look that spoke volumes. There was a fire in your eyes, one he couldn’t resist, one that seemed to pull him in deeper.
He swallowed hard, his body already reacting to the heat between you, completely mesmerized by the way you looked at him. “Damn,” he whispered, his voice raspy as he slid down on the bed and brought you with him. "You always know exactly what to say to drive me crazy,"
“I know,” you winked, “It’s my job,” you added before you felt him grip your waist again, this time feeling him lift you from his hips and onto his chest.
“You ready?” he asked you, making sure you were alright even though this wasn’t the first time you’d done this before.
“Oh, hell yeah,” you grinned as you spread your legs wider and moved onto his face, lining your slick core with his mouth.
A few seconds passed by as you got comfortable, his hands tightly gripping your waist and your ass as you let out a few breathy moans at the feeling of his perfect, ski slope nose rubbing against your aching clit. “Joe,” you whimpered.
He looked up at you and the sight of you biting your bottom lip and holding onto the bedframe was enough to make him cum without you even doing anything to him, he was mesmerized by you.
He used his tongue to lick a long stripe across your slit before thrusting his tongue into your core, your hips beginning to gently rock back and forth against his face. “Mmm, fuck,” you moaned, a warm feeling fluttering through your belly as you felt yourself getting lost under his touch.
“Fuck,” he blubbered underneath you, “You taste like heaven,” he said while closing his eyes and gripping you even tighter. The feeling of his scruff against your bare skin was driving you insane. There was legit no better feeling on this planet than feeling his scruff in between your thighs.
He continued to lap at your folds with his skillful mouth, even looking up at you with his wild eyes a few times and noticing how you threw your head back each time his lips latched onto your clit, even how you fell a little forward when his nose would rub against it. He was as skillful with his mouth as he was with his hands, both always moving with precision and perfection on you. He always knew what to do in order to send you over the edge, he knew your body like it was a road he’d driven down over a thousand times.
“Joe, fuck…you’re so- you’re so good at t- this,” you moaned, stuffing your hands into his fluffy, disheveled hair as you rocked your hips back and forth a little harder.
Your grip on his hair was as tight as the grip he had on you, both of you steadying yourselves due to the intensity of the pleasure unfolding between you. “Yeah, just like that,” you whimpered after you felt him move his hand to your wet heat, his thumb grazing over your bundle of nerves as you felt yourself inching closer to your orgasm.
You tugged on his hair a little harder, this time earning a moan from him that vibrated through your entire body and sent you straight to heaven for a second as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, “Ah,” you whimpered as you felt the band in your belly tighten with each expert flick of his tongue and scratch of his scruff against your core.
“I’m gonna cum, baby,” you whispered as you closed your eyes, your entire body hotter than the sun with the way his mouth was going unhinged on your soaked core.
Joe opened his eyes and glanced up at you, a feeling of accomplishment and pride coursing through his veins, and it wasn’t because of winning big tonight. It was because of you. Because he was the only man on this planet to get you like this.
He latched his mouth onto your clit, flicking the bud with his hot tongue as you felt your high starting to come over you with each nip and suck of his mouth and the feeling of your waist being squeezed by his big hand.
“Joe…Joe…Joe!” you screamed a few seconds later as you felt your orgasm cut through you, your hands gripping the bed frame so that your tight grip didn’t end up ripping his hair out. “Oh my god, fuck,” you whimpered as you felt your release fall into his hot mouth and his tongue continuing to work you through your high.
“I love you,” you breathed out a few seconds later once you looked down at him, feeling him smile into your drenched heat as he continued to coax you through your high.
And in that moment, you once again realized that there was no other place you both would rather be right now. You were away from the noise, from the flash of the cameras, from the distractions. This felt like the real celebration. The one that mattered the most. Joe had achieved one of his dreams, and the only thing that made it sweeter was sharing this private, intimate moment with you.
All the sacrifices, sleepless nights, countless hours of practice–it all led to this. And the one person he wanted to be with, more than anyone else, was you.
You were both exactly where you needed to be. Together. And that was the real victory.
End of Flashback
You snapped back to the present when your phone turned off and the light was no longer reflecting onto your face. Your face felt wet, as well as your eyes as you looked down at your phone which had droplets sliding down the screen. You didn’t even realize that while reliving these memories, you started crying.
You swiped at your face, trying to wipe away the tears as if you could get rid of the feelings that had overwhelmed you. You glanced down at Joe, praying that none of this had woken him up–which thankfully it didn’t.
“Everything was so simple back then,” you thought to yourself as you felt a few more straggling tears slide down your cheeks. You missed those times, those times when your only concerns were what bag and clothes he was going to bring to his first practice as a Bengal or what team he’d end up going to post Natty win & NFL draft.
And now? Now there were so many concerns, worries, and thoughts that needed to be sorted. But why? “When did everything get so complicated?” you asked yourself as you glanced back down at him, his puffy eyes still closed and his mouth slightly open as the soft snores continued to come through. “Why did everything get so complicated for him? Why is he in so much pain? He doesn’t deserve this…he works so hard. He does everything he needs to do. He does so much for me and for this life, we built,” you thought to yourself again as you felt your stomach drop.
You wished you could do something to help him, do something to just fix everything that was bothering him. But you couldn’t.
The only thing you could do was remain strong, remain as his anchor, and prevent him from going under.
Even if sometimes you felt like you were about to go under yourself.
You leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead before whispering, “I’m so sorry Joe. I wish I could take away your pain, I wish I could make this better. You deserve the world and I’m so sorry that I can’t help you in the way I should be,".
"I’m sorry," you whispered again as you felt another tear slide down your cheek.
–To be Continued–
#joe burrow#joe burrow x reader#joe burrow imagine#joeburrow#joe burrow fic#joe burrow smut#joeyb#joe burrow fan fic
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O9 stuck with you — mile high club !
scaramouche x gender neutral reader
The universe had blessed you with great looks, an overflow of talent, and a great personality. But you couldn’t have it all, which was why your irrational fear of flying was a great target for your friends to bully you for.
It was a great insecurity of yours, but you knew they meant well.
You hadn’t slept a wink the night before as you started to accept your fate of sitting next to the higher evil for an entire flight – Scaramouche.
“Don’t look so down,” Venti tries to comfort, his mouthful of powdered donuts, “You can just sleep the entire time.”
“As if I would feel at ease sleeping next to him,” you mutter, “He’d probably push me off the plane.”
You spare a glance over to where Scara was seated beside his members, the other three loudly playing a game of UNO as he flipped through some manga with his headphones on. He looked up and caught your eye, raising a brow as you quickly avert your eyes. Unlike him you were unable to sit still.
“Alright, it’s time to board!” Jean says, shuffling through a stack of passports, she hadn’t trusted any of you to keep them on yourselves, “It’s a private plane so once everyone is settled we’ll take off.”
“Don’t have to tell me twice,” Lisa laughed as she slid past Jean to start boarding with a face mask already applied.
You let yourself fall back and let everyone go ahead of you, fidgeting with your necklace as you ended up right behind Scaramouche.
The airplane cabin was a tight squeeze as you and Scaramouche were forced into a small space together. The plane was smaller than usual so it could land safely on the island and Jean had thought making you guys fly economy would get you ready for the harsh reality of the island. And just your luck, you had a window seat. Once you were seated you couldn’t help but give sporadic glances towards the glass. It didn’t look very strong.
Whenever you had to board a plane you usually had Xiao or Lumine beside you, and they’d let you grab onto their arm during takeoff. It was a stupid fear, you knew that, but it didn’t stop the anxiety bubbling its way up to your skin.
You were so out of it you didn’t even comprehend the man you hated was less than a few inches away from you, giving you judgemental glances as you kept wringing your hands and rocking back and forth in your seat. You hadn’t even called him ugly yet. Even he was confused at the sudden lack of hostility.
Scaramouche glanced at you with a mixture of annoyance and disbelief as he was in his seat beside you, “Get up,” he demanded sharply.
“What?” you mumble, not registering his tone as you start staring out the little glass window. God, how high were you guys going to fly?
“I said get up and switch seats with me. Are you deaf?” The forcefulness in his voice left no room for argument.
You hesitated, looking down at your shaking hands. “Really?”
Scaramouche huffed as he stood up, yanking you up from your seat and gesturing for you to move before taking your previous spot without a word.
“Thank you,” you sigh, feeling a bit of the tension in your shoulders release. Still too distressed to realize you were thanking Scaramouche out of all people. It was the equivalent to thanking the devil for world hunger in your eyes.
Scaramouche rolled his eyes, “Don’t thank me. I did it because your shaking was annoying,” he grumbles, reaching over to grab your hand and wave it around to prove his point.
As he took the window seat, he noticed your continuous anxious peeks towards the window. Without a word, he reached over and pulled down the window curtain with a decisive motion, blocking out the view that was making you more uneasy by the second.
The pilot announced that it would begin its takeoff, and you immediately felt your heart race, trying to control your breathing. Scaramouche, who had already hooked on his headphones, still couldn’t tune out your incessant fidgeting,
With a roll of his eyes and an exasperated sigh he gently but firmly pushed your head between your knees. “Just stay like that until we’re steady,” he instructed, his tone less harsh than before as he kept his palm on your upper back.
Once the plane leveled out and the turbulence eased, Scaramouche pulled you back up by your collar.
“God, you’re pathetic. You better not throw up on me,” he said with an edge of irritation, but there was a hint of something else in his voice that you couldn’t quite place.
Overwhelmed by fear and unable to focus on his insults, you instinctively grabbed his arm, clinging to it as if it were a lifeline. Scaramouche glanced down at you, surprise flashing in his eyes. For a moment, he seemed at a loss for how to handle the situation.
With a sigh that spoke of reluctant empathy, Scaramouche allowed you to hold onto his arm. He didn’t pull away or complain, simply letting you grasp his arm tightly until you began to calm down.
“Just… let me know when you’re ready to let go,” he muttered, his usual bravado tempered by a rare moment of patience as he turned his head away, burying it in his other palm.
You nodded, still gripping his arm but feeling your fear gradually subside. After a few minutes, when you felt more composed, you slowly released your hold. The post fear clarity hit you hard.
“Thanks,” you said quietly, the gratitude in your voice palpable despite the strained circumstances.
Scaramouche just huffed, turning his attention back to his phone. “Whatever, try not to lose it on me again or I really will throw you off.”
As the flight continued, the atmosphere between you and Scaramouche shifted slightly. For the brief few hours in the sky, he went easier on you.
It was odd to not be treated like dirt by him for once. Oddly nice.
The island was serene at night. The gentle lapping of the waves against the shore provided you with a soothing lullaby and a sight just as enchanting. You’d always loved the ocean, the crispy and fresh scent it brought you. You walked along the beach, relishing in the sensation of burying your feet in the warm sand in an attempt to clear your mind.
You couldn't sleep, the anticipation of tomorrow's filming gnawing at your nerves. The beach was mostly empty, save for a solitary figure sitting by the water. As you approached, your heart jumped into your throat, a rush of fear surging through you.
"Relax, it's me, dumbass," came a familiar, exasperated voice. Scaramouche.
"Great," you muttered, feeling your heartbeat slow to a normal pace. "Just what I needed."
"Can you go away? There's so much beach to sit on. I'm trying to have a moment," Scaramouche said, his tone dripping with irritation.
"You aren't the only one who can have an emo moment," you shot back, plopping down a few feet away from him. "Why are you even here?"
"Same reason as you," he replied, staring out at the ocean.
The silence stretched between you, the only sound the waves breaking on the shore. After a while, you broke the silence. "I could push you in right now, you know."
"I can swim, idiot," he replied, not even bothering to look at you.
“Another thing you can do,” you mutter, bringing your knees up to tuck under your chin. You look to your left to see Scaramouche drawing circles in the sand.
"Sometimes you don’t realize how good you have it," you whisper, but in the quiet of the night he hears it and looks over at you.
He scoffs, "You think I have it good? You're welcome to take my place anytime."
“I’m just saying, It’s annoying when you’re the only one I keep losing to,” you murmured. You needed to tape your mouth shut, at this point you were just giving him more ammo to fight you with. Your inferiority complex didn’t need any more reasons.
“God, you really are stupid,” Scara says, his tone dry. Before you could haul his ass into the ocean, he continues,
"Just because you keep losing to me doesn’t make you inferior," Scaramouche says so quietly you almost miss it, his voice surprisingly gentle. "Are you that stupid? If I'm the only person you can't beat, then that’s a win." He looks over to where you were peering at him, “Why am I even competing with someone as idiotic as you?”
You looked away, his words not sounding like spewed garbage once in your life.
A few more minutes passed in quiet contemplation. Eventually, you stood up, brushing the sand off your pants. "I'm going to the kitchen for a snack."
"Why are you announcing it?" Scaramouche scoffs, finally glancing over at you.
You shrugged. "I don't know."
To your surprise, he got up and followed you.
"Why are you so obsessed with me?" you grumbled.
"I'm literally just hungry, you self-absorbed freak," he shot back, but there was a gloominess to his tone that made you glance at him with a bit more curiosity.
You’d only stepped into the kitchen that afternoon during the tour, so you spent a good five minutes looking for hot cocoa powder as Scaramouche was no help whatsoever.
Scaramouche watched you with a judgemental eye as you dumped too much powder into a cup of milk and turned the heat on too high, causing the drink to froth and overflow.
"That's gross," he finally said, pushing you aside and taking over. "You're doing it all wrong."
"Like you could do any better," you retorted, but you watched as he made the cocoa, and you had to admit it looked better than your attempt. He even found marshmallows and threw it into your cup, leaving his empty of it. He started walking back to the dorms, and not wanting to be left behind you trailed behind him, steaming mugs in hand.
You hissed as the heat permeating through the mug scorched your palms.
“You really can’t do anything,” Scaramouche drawls, taking your cup away from you as he went ahead of you.
“I don’t need you to hold it,” you huff, jogging to catch up with him.
As you entered the common area, everyone was gathered around, playing the board games that Yoimiya had brought.
Childe looked up and grinned while rolling a pair of dice, "Hey, look, matching hot cocoa! How cute."
Lumine smirked. "Awww, you two are such couple goals!"
You and Scaramouche immediately started squabbling, your voices rising in indignation. "We're not a couple!" you both shouted in unison, glaring at each other.
“You guys are even in sync!” Aether sighed, “Goals. Literal goals.”
“Whatever,” Scaramouche huffed, placing your mug back in your hands and shoving past you all to head to his room.
“Awe, not going to join us for Monopoly?” Venti calls out.
Scaramouche answers by slamming his door shut.
stuck with you!
masterlist — prev | next
sorry if u aren’t actually afraid of heights i wanted to include that scene so yn has to be a wuss sorry xx me personally tho i love flying
i hope i wrote modern yae well? i listened to a bunch of voicelines to figure out how her and scara wud interact in this universe 😭
please comment on the masterlist if you’d like me to use your user as a fan in the au!
synopsis — after the disaster that was the live award show, where you and scaramouche got into an argument on stage after both of your groups got a tie for top artists, your guys' PR teams have been in shambles trying to scrape up your mess. that's when the idea to send you both off with some other idols to a remote location for a survival dating show to mend your public image comes up. before you know it your bags are packed and you’re on a plane to a remote island. the only obligation is you need to end up with scaramouche at the end of the show, whether you end up liking him or not doesn’t matter to your managers as long as the show’s ratings stay high. whatever you do in between to get there is up to you!
notes — chat did we enjoy this chapter
taglist — @na1lea @cindywasneverhere @lunavixia @aestherin @mlaakai @camvrin @retiredmommylover @iheartpieck @jangyung @cartierfiles @loveariel @silly-ez @mochipls @pomeiu @chuuismylife @flowerypesky @creammpuff @justanothertiredreader @boxdisappeared @kissmiere @kissingkzuha @webbywill @kazusboyfriend @s3xpistolss @pjsucks @bunns-wonderland @lordbugs @localgirlywithnolife @kosumos @danfelions @featuredtofu @pinxeajin @herebyaccident0 @haeunoo @scaradooche @pglt19 @chemiru @childesbabygirl @simonisferal @shutingstar @vxcmx @domimiki @ttalgi @esuz @tokkishouse @kitsuvil @scarasmood @ihearttori @nomurahayami @starringyau @androxphobic @kazuhasbabe
#scaramouche smau#scaramouche x reader smau#scaramouche x yn#scaramouche x reader#scaramouche x gender neutral reader#scaramouche x male reader#scaramouche x y/n#scaramouche x you#scaramouche texts#stuck with you smau
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Turbulence
You join the mile-high club with a mysterious English gentleman.
A/N: First BT fic! Been obsessed with this movie, and just had to make something with one of our favourite assassins. I had to do a weird amount of research on flying for this... It won’t be my last so follow for more! :)
Set pre movie.
Word count: 2.5K
Tags: SMUT / Porn with little plot / Minor spoilers for references in Bullet Train (2022) / Unprotected sex / Creampies / Hookups / Mentions of birth control / Quickies / Canon-typical language / Canon-typical banter / Minors + Ageless blogs DNI
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome onboard Flight 4B7 to Tokyo. We are currently second in line for take-off and are expected to be in the air in approximately five minutes time. At this time, we ask you to please fasten your seatbelts and secure all baggage underneath your seat or in the overhead compartments. Please turn off all personal electronic devices, including laptops and cell phones. Smoking is prohibited for the duration of the flight. I’m Goldie, and thank you for choosing our airline. Enjoy your flight!”
Hanging the speaker up, you smoothed out your skirt as you fixed yourself to take the final walk before take-off. ‘Goldie’ wasn’t your real name of course, but a nickname given to you by a sleazy boss. You would’ve hated it, but you found that it greatly helped with creepy passengers who were searching for a place in the coveted ‘mile high club’, or those who simply flew with the intention of sleeping with flight attendants across the world. On the contrary, it was always cute when toddlers cooed your name from across the plane, calling for you as if you’d known them their entire life.
As you pushed past the curtain to the business class, your eyes fell on a pair of men; one dark-skinned with curly dyed hair, the other with long, slicked back hair and a moustache. They wouldn't have been anything out of the ordinary had the moustached man not been holding a phone to his ear. Great. There was always at least one person who never listened to the announcements, but there was something about those who rode in first or business class that held a different kind of entitlement entirely.
Swallowing, you put on your best customer service and sauntered over to them. The dark-skinned man noticed you first, raising his brows before nudging the one next to him, who seemed deep into an important, but strained, conversation.
“...Yeah, yeah. We get the kid and the briefcase, then the train to Kyoto...Yes, we know who we’re dealing with, I forwarded Lemon the briefing. Right, can we go now? Take-offs in two minutes --”
“Excuse me,” you cut in. “You’re going to need to hang that up...”
The man did a double take, holding his phone away from his ear as he glanced up at you. If it wasn’t his old English accent that captivated you, it was his eyes, a striking blue with hints of grey that seemed to stare directly into your soul.
“I’m going now.” He said snarkily to the person on the phone before hanging up, placing the object into the pocket of his navy-blue suit before staring up at you with a charming, but cheeky smile.
“My apologies darlin’,” he said, his voice as smooth as butter. “Work won’t give us a break.”
“Don’t I know it?” you replied, shifting your weight as you prepared to move on. “Thank you, sir. Enjoy your flight...” you said before looking down at his hands; strong and adorned with gold rings.
“...Nice watch.” You finished with a knowing smile. Given the parts of the broken conversation you’d heard, and the elaborate way they were dressed, you figured that they were at least some kind of secret service members - not that it was any of your business, of course. Still, there was something particularly arousing about the blue-eyed man in the three-piece navy suit with the nice watch, and you couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if you broke your ‘no-sex-on-the-job’ rule, just this once. If he wasn’t busy with mission stuff, of course.
“Thank you, sweetheart.” He replied, the corners of his eyes wrinkling as he smiled, watching you as you walked off, admiring the questionably short length of your skirt in the process. Sitting back in his seat, he chuckled to himself before turning to see his brother Lemon hastily swiping through the movie selection on the screens.
“The fuck are you doing?”
“Tryin’ to see if they’ve got Thomas...” Lemon said matter-of-factly. “It’s alright though. I always come prepared.” he finished, tapping his laptop pointedly. Tangerine frowned, shaking his head as he sat back in his seat, side eyeing you as you made your way to your jumpseat in the corner.
It was going to be a long journey, but at least he had a nice view.
.・゜゜・ ・゜゜・.
As soon as it had been safe to take seatbelts off, you’d wasted no time in making your way back down to the business area. The best part about the job was that you were able to walk about, getting a good glimpse at the passengers you thought were attractive – all under the guise of providing good customer service. The man with watch was reading a book, whilst the other seemed engrossed with whatever was on the screen, with his fingers covering his face in a concerned manner. They seemed like polar opposites, yet seemed to work so well together, something that made your job a lot easier when it came to seating passengers. If only everyone was like them.
If it hadn’t been obvious, you were rather interested in the blue-eyed gentleman in particular. Whilst he hadn’t given you definite signs he was interested, you fixed your make up in your compact mirror regardless, and opened a button on your blouse so it was just a little lower than industry guidelines. It never hurt to try, and it certainly wasn’t as if you were going to see him again.
Smiling, you guided a cart down the narrow aisles, stopping at the pair of men.
“Refreshments?”
The dark-skinned man, ‘Lemon’, as he had been referred to, answered first, eagerly pausing his screen to speak to you.
“I’d love somethin’, love,” he said, holding the same accent as his partner. “D’ya have anything fizzy?”
“Of course,” you hummed. “We have Coke – regular, Diet and Zero, Dr Pepper, Sprite, some SanPellegrino --”
“I’ll have a Coke, love. Make it Diet...” he said, and you nodded, quickly finding the box for the right can. “It’s a shame ya don’t do any bubble milk tea up here...I got a real craving for one...”
You laughed as you handed him the can. “Luckily for you Tokyo is full of great places to get one. You probably could even find one in their vending machines...Don’t get those in the West, do you?”
“Certainly not in London,” he chuckled, opening the can and taking a swig before pursing his lips and tapping a finger on his chin. “Say, I don’t suppose you could settle a little argument for me, could you?” “Oh here we go...” the other man interjected, drawing himself from his book to huff and look between the two of you. “Fucking unbelievable.”
Lemon rolled his eyes.
“That SanPellegrino of yours...Which flavour do you sell the most?”
You bit your lip.
“Depends...It’s usually lemon because people think it might taste like lemonade. The orange one never goes to waste, though...”
Lemon gave the other man a pointed look, and he scoffed before looking at you.
“Not to completely waste your time, love, but if you had to choose between a lemon or a tangerine...” he didn’t finish, probably because it would’ve pained him to, and moved his hands as if he were balancing weights on scales.
You stared blankly between the two men, confused but utterly endeared.
“Tangerines are good on their own, but lemons are far more versatile...” “See?” Lemon said triumphantly, celebrating with himself before shaking your hand. “Pleasure doing business with you, darlin’.” He grinned before restarting his movie, moving on as if nothing had happened. You chuckled to yourself, conscious of the hundred other guests that needed you, but looked back to lock eyes with the other man, ready to ask him the same question. He wore a knowing smirk on his face, the curve of his pink lips still evident under his thick moustache and tutted chidingly.
“Really thought you’d be on my side there, sweetheart,” he sighed. “Suppose you can’t trust everyone, can you?”
“I’m sorry,” you pouted. “You must give it to him though. Lemons are pretty good.”
“Darlin’ I don’t have a problem with the message, but the messenger,” he said, nodding to the man next to him. “He’s a grown arse lad watching Thomas, that one.”
You chuckled, glimpsing at the screen to see that it was indeed correct. Shaking your head, you scanned the crafted features of his face before raising a brow.
“So, what’s your poison?”
“A gorgeous lady pushing a cart, it seems.”
“Smooth,” you hummed, unable to ignore the way a dangerous heat shot through your stomach and down to your core, making your legs feel like jelly. He’d hardly done anything, and yet you were under his spell. “What would you like to drink?”
“Nothin’ at the moment, love,” he grinned. “I’m a bit peckish, if anythin’...”
Sighing, you quickly checked the man out again, this time eyeing his body. Broad shoulders, muscular thighs, thick legs...The total package.
“Hurry, up! I’m thirsty!” Someone from across the aisles said. The man was about to argue, but you halted him, nodding in the direction where the voice came from.
“I tell you what,” you said softly, lowering your voice as you stared into his eyes, your composure so controlled that it would’ve been impossible to tell that your heart was pounding in your chest as you spoke. “-- Us staff have our own snacks. If you meet me by the toilets in fifteen, I can get you some...”
“Don’t leave me hangin’, sweetheart.” The man grinned, not-so subtly uncrossing his legs and giving a cheeky wink before you headed off down the aisle. Gripping onto the handle of the cart, you tried your hardest to walk straight, excitement boiling in your loins as you counted down those fifteen crucial minutes with every strained smile at a customer.
.・゜゜・ ・゜゜・.
He was there when you arrived.
“Took ya’ long enough -” was all he said before cupping your cheeks and pulling you into a passionate kiss, pressing your body against the wall of the bathroom. It was by far the most glamorous place to have sex, but there was something about the sleaziness of it all (with such a put-together man, nonetheless) that made it that more enticing. His scent was an ode to his masculinity; aromatic and woody, and it consumed you as he kissed down your neck, nipping at your collarbone as his large hands caressed the sides of your body. You moaned, writhing your front against his pelvis, desperate to feel the outline of his erection against your own. Admittedly, you weren’t entirely sure what to do with your hands, settling to drape them around his neck in fear of messing up his hair. He seemed like a man who took pride in his appearance, and he certainly wasn’t going to be able to fix it up in an airplane bathroom.
“Feel me, darling. I don’t bite...” he whispered, his hands now sliding between your thighs as he fought to push your panties to the side. You took this as a hint, and you combed your fingers through his roots with one hand, whilst the other fumbled to undo the button on his trousers, difficult to do with his considerable bulge. You let out a broken gasp as you felt his cock, likely over average sized with a nice girth, and he shuddered in response.
“Goldie, is it? You’re a naughty one...” he sighed, slipping a finger into your wet cunt.
“Mhmmm,” you crooned. “’S nickname. I don’t suppose you’ll give me yours?”
“You’re a bright bird, ‘m sure ya figured it out.”
“Tangerine, huh?” you hummed, throwing your head back as he began to finger fuck you, his gold rings adding the extra girth that would prepare you nicely for his cock. “I like tangerines...”
“Ya didn’t seem to back there.”
“Well, give me a reason to...” you chuckled, and he grinned, grunting before he hoisted your leg up around his waist, his cock dangerously near your entrance.
“Better be quick,” you teased, staring at him through your lashes. “They’ll get suspicious if I’m not back in five.”
Tangerine chuckled.
“I can do that. Just know it’s not a reflection of me at my best.” he sniffed.
“Good to know.”
Your words were unfounded as he pushed into you, his girth filling you completely as you moulded perfectly around his cock, gripping onto his shirt as he began to buck his hips. The man grunted, accosting himself to the feel of your warm, wet hole – raw and unfiltered, sighing into the nape of your neck as he fucked you. He steadied himself with his hands, gripping onto your thigh with one as the other rested above you, lending him the luxury of staring into your eyes as he drilled you.
“God...” you panted, your lips wet and raw from his kisses. “T-Tan -- You’re so good...”
“That’s it, love,” he beckoned, words rolling off his tongue like honey as he rolled his hips deeper into you. “Say my name...”
“Tangerine...” you whined, eyes fluttering shut as you drowned out the vacuum-like ambience around you, focusing on the small grunts and sweet nothings the man whispered into your ear, his warm breath sending chills up your spine. The room around you was making a slight creaking sound, and you barely even cared that your calf was banging slightly against the door.
With every passing second his thrusts became more focused, solely intended to bring you both to that point of ecstasy- yet you didn’t doubt that Tangerine was the kind of man who made sure you finished, even if he himself didn’t.
His hair was beginning to become undone now, brown strands falling in front of his face, just barely clouding his vision, but enough to make him look even hotter. Both of your shirts became more and more dishevelled as he pressed up against you, the muffled sound of his clothed thigh against your bare ones becoming more frequent as he growled, the sound coming from deep within his muscular chest.
“Fucking hell, darlin’...’M gonna make a mess...” he hissed through laboured breaths. “I’ve gotta pull out --”
“It’s alright,” you lulled, and you could’ve sworn that his cock twitched at the phrase. “I’m on the pill...”
“You naughty girl...You’re gonna get me in trouble --” he groaned, throwing his head back as he gave you a few fast and sloppy pumps, shutting his eyes as you clamped down on him during your own release, creaming around his cock as he filled you with his own. You dug your nails into his clothes as you rode off your respective highs, hair and clothes askew as he rubbed small circles your trembling leg before lowering it to the ground.
Panting, there was a brief silence as you dressed yourselves, with Tangerine preening himself in the tiny mirror.
“You look good as gold.” You said with a smirk, fixing your hat.
“Thanks,” he said with a broad smile, popping some gum into his mouth as he looked you up and down. “You’re a dime a dozen, y’know? Fly this route often?”
“Sometimes,” you hummed, opening the door so that the sign no longer read ‘occupied’. “Why, are you thinking of coming back?”
“I’ll be headed to Kyoto,” he said, looking around before he stepped out. “Maybe I’ll catch you there.”
“Yeah,” you grinned, fixing the final button on your shirt. He’ fucked you so good you could barely even remember what your next journey was. “Maybe.”
#florence writes!!#tangerine x reader#tangerine bullet train#tangerine bullet train x reader#bullet train imagine#aaron taylor johnson x reader#aaron taylor johnson imagine#bullet train x reader#x reader smut#atj x reader#atj smut#bullet train 2022
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Semi final surprises \\ Alexia Putellas x Williamson!reader
Tensions are high in the Arsenal dressing room as the do or die game is less than an hour from starting. I tie the last knot in my laces before walking out with the rest of the girls to start warm ups. After a brief warm up with the rest of the starters, I sit down in the cubby next to Leah’s and notice a few notifications from Alexia. Before each game, Alexia always sends multiple voice messages. I play the first one and hear the thick Spanish accent come through the headphones.
Hi my love, I know you have the headphones on. I will send you the voice messages.
You will do so well today. Play your heart out, score some goals and take it in.
I love you and I am so proud of you superstar. I’ll see you in the next few days when you visit.
I smile at Alexia’s English and send a reply. My phone goes back into my bag just as Leah bumps my leg to gesture that it’s time to go.
I quickly change into the game jersey and line up with the rest of the girls. I see the Lyon team on the other side of the hallway and I move behind Caitlin in line. I feel a small hand in mine and see a young girl about 6 or 7 years old smiling up at me. I talk to her for a little bit before we go out to the bustling crowd that is the Emirates.
As we all wait for the formalities to conclude, I notice my mascot shivering slightly. I ask her if she wants my jacket and she nods. I take it off and wrap it around her shoulders. A small thank you was said and hug in return made some fans cheer at the interaction.
A short huddle later and the second semi final of the champions league is underway. With Wolfsburg shockingly beating Barcelona a few days ago, the Spanish team will fail to get their three-peat this year. A whistle pulls you out of your thoughts and your teammates start to get into position.
Lyon wasted no time in attacking, taking most of the possession from the first whistle. The Arsenal attackers, Alessia, Caitlin and I drop back into defence while trying to regain the ball to take up field. The deadlock breaks just before halftime with Lyon scoring the first goal. As the French team celebrated, Kim pulled us all into a huddle to motivate us for the rest of the half.
As I walk back with Alessia, I look back and catch Leah’s eye. I give her a slight nod and returned one as to silently say stay calm and focused. No other chances came Arsenal’s way in the first half so I walk into the locker room with my head down, about to give up. After a pep talk from Jonas and a motivational boost from Kim, the team were ready to face Lyon for another half.
As both teams jogged out, Alexia weaved her way through the crowd to get to her seat. Of course her plane had to be delayed and then no taxis or Ubers were at the arrivals part of the airport. Luckily, you had shown Alexia how to watch your games so she didn’t miss anything on the way over to the stadium. As Alexia got on a flight straight after a day of interviews and photoshoots, she came without any luggage. Excusing herself as she moved past people, Alexia finally reached her seat.
In the 70th minute is when the dynamic shifted in half. I try to sneak past Vanessa Gillies but she slide tackles straight into my ankle. I fall to ground screaming and the medic rushes over. I get a bandage wrapped around my ankle as there’s a decent cut. I put everything back on and the game resumes. I see a Lyon player get organised for the free kick, in a pretty good spot and I give Steph a look and hold up 2 fingers for a tactic.
Steph kicks the ball and I watch as it comes towards me. I quickly look in front of me and see Leah so I jump on her slightly to get a better angle on the ball. The ball flicks into the bottom corner of the net.
Equaliser. 1-1.
I run to the corner flag and turn around to be pulled into a group hug. The roar from the crowd was deafening as we regrouped and focused on the remaining 20 minutes.
As time was counting down, I was getting exhausted but I knew I had to keep going. Leah makes a crucial slide tackle and quickly spots me near the box. She kicks the ball over the Lyon defenders and with pinpoint accuracy, it lands on my foot, making it a perfectly timed volley. The familiar swoosh of the net is all I can hear as I drop to my knees in disbelief. Leah was the first on the floor with me and other teammates soon followed.
“You did it y/n/n”
“Games not over yet Lee”
In a matter of minutes the final whistle blew and Lyon bodies fell to the floor in distraught. Legs are exhausted, minds numb. While around the pitch Arsenal teammates and staff were jumping, screaming and crying all at the same time. Leah and I found each other first, hugging for longer than usual. This was our moment. One we’ve been waiting for since we were at the academy. After shaking hands with Lyon, the team and staff went on a victory lap. Walking with Leah and Steph, waving into the crowd when someone caught my eye.
“No way”
There was the love of my life wearing a red and white scarf and of course a Barça baseball cap. I sprint over to Alexia with a wide smile on my face. Alexia opens her arms and I jump the barricade to get into her arms, the place I call home.
“You came. I thought you had photoshoots and media” I say as my voice is raspy due to yelling in the game.
“Of course. I wouldn’t miss this for the world mi amor”
It has been speculation for a while now that you and Alexia are dating, with both of you posting subtle hints on instagram stories and posts. This moment just confirms all the fans TikTok edits and endless stalking they have done. Without another thought or care in the world, I grab Alexia’s cheeks gently and kiss her gently.
“I love you” I murmured against Alexia’s lips.
Alexia smiled as she replied “Te quiero más”.
I got called over by Katie and Caitlin as the group stopped staring and continued their victory parade around the ground. Alexia nudged me to go and said she’d wait here when I finish.
As I walk around the ground, nothing can beat this feeling. I have my sister and best friend with me in the final and the love of my life is by my side cheering me on. How can it get better than this?
#womens soccer#woso soccer#woso#woso x reader#woso imagines#woso imagine#alexia putellas x reader#leah williamson x reader#arsenal x reader#woso community#arsenalwfc#awfc
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a dark heart is beating and waiting for you
summary: Carmy doesn't have his own place back in Chicago yet, so being the good friend you are, you invite him to stay at your place.
title from: "In The Room Where You Sleep" by Dead Man's Bones
word count: 1.6k
content warnings: none!
side note: did you guys know Dead Man's Bones is Ryan Goslings band, did you guys even know Ryan Gosling had a band
divider by @strangergraphics
"It's really no issue, Carm.." You tell him as you pile his luggage into your car. You've taken care of all of his bags, so he's stood awkwardly with his hands in his pockets.
You push down on the trunk, closing it hard. Carmy's brow is furrowed when you look at him. You can see him chewing on the inside of his lip. You grab his hand and give it a squeeze, causing him to look at you.
"No big deal. Promise." You study his face, and he nods, relaxing his brow. You usher him into the passenger seat, wanting to get to your apartment before it gets dark and traffic gets bad.
The drive from the airport to your place is an hour drive, which isn't a surprise to you or Carmy, but you're only a 20-minute drive from The Beef. So you take what you can get.
You spend the drive together catching up and berating Chicago driver's for their idiocy, making snide comments about their lack of turn signals and forcing themselves in your lane. But it's Chicago. You've not known anything else.
When you park, Carmy is out of the car quickly, making a beeline for the trunk before you can protest.
"Hey!" You call at him, taking your key out of the ignition and climbing out of your car.
"Can't help me if I've already got my bags..." Carmy tells you, closing the trunk with his free hand. Your eyes fall on the suitcase he's left on the street, but before you can grab for it, Carmy snatches it up.
"You've been on a plane all day. Give it to me." You reach for his suitcase, but he switches it to the side you can't reach.
"I can carry my own bags. Wasn't even that long of a flight.." Carmy assures you. You huff at him in frustration, fumbling with your keys to single out the building key.
"Fine, asshole.." You grumble softly, locking your car as you head towards the steps to your apartment building. Carmy follows you up the front steps smugly, thanking you when you keep the front door open for him before turning to the second door. The trip up to your apartment is a short one, taking the stairs up to the second floor and down the hall to the door at the end.
"Not the best place, but... I mean, it's a place," you tell him as you put the key in the lock to unlock your door.
"'M not gonna judge ya.." Carmy says softly, following you as you walk into your home.
The place is cozy, walking into the kitchen immediately. You've decorated it in a way that is so.... So you.
"This is it," you tell him, looking over your shoulder to smile at him. "Oh, um... Salem should be around here somewhere hold on.. She can be a little shy."
Carmy watches as you set your keys on the counter and venture further into your place. He takes in the kitchen and dining area, not too cluttered with the small amount of space. He leaves his bags by the door to follow you as you duck into your living room.
"Salem," you call softly, shifting the blankets to see if she's burrowed in any of them. "Where are you, my beautiful baby?"
Your living room is littered with blankets and posters and plants. You've filled the space with so much of you that it's hard to picture it any other way.
"She's not in here," you tell Carmy, slipping past him so you can go to your bedroom next door.
"Salem," you call sweetly, making a beeline for your closet as Carmy stands in the doorway.
"There you are!" You gasp when you see her, presumably curled in the shadows of your closet. Carmy hears soft chirps as you lean down to pick her up. "Want you to meet someone, baby."
In your arms, when you turn back to him, is a small black cat. Her name should have given it away. You cradle her like you would a baby, holding her softly against your chest.
"Carmy, meet Salem. Salem, meet Carmy." You walk over to him with your cat in hand. She's smaller now that she's closer to him. You gently grab one of Carmys' hands, bringing it up to Salem's nose. Once she's comfortable with it, she's nudging her face against his fingers, leaning out from your chest.
"She likes you!" You cheer softly. The grin you give him is bright, watching the both of them interact in front of you.
"She's tiny.." Carmy mutters softly, petting her head and listening to the murrp she lets out, thinking his words are meant for her.
"She was the runt," you tell him. "She was much smaller before, but now she's like... perpetually normal kitten sized."
Salem seems content to rest in your arms, so you let her, carrying her with you as you go back to the kitchen.
"She usually takes longer to warm up to people, but she seems to really like you." You tell Carmy as you place her gently on your counter. The action makes him cringe a little. You scoop up his suitcase, carrying it so it leans against the wall and in between the living room and your bedroom. You leave his backpack on the counter, not wanting to mess with his more personal items.
"We can get more for food tomorrow, I don't have a lot in means of like... Ingredients for things, but I can whip us up a box pizza in 20 minutes." You look at him from where you stand beside your dining table. Salem is stretching from where she stands on the counter, trying to nuzzle her face against Carmys arm.
"That works," Carmy says, absentmindedly reaching out to pet the cat preening for his attention.
"Great!" You grin, slinking past Carm to get to your freezer. "Go, sit, I'm going to put it in the oven, and we can catch up more."
You shoo Carmy out, giggling as Salem jumps down from the counter to follow him to where he sits at the table. Your night is spent catching up with Carmy at your table, eating the box pizza you cooked for both of you, and petting Salem as she switches between the both of you, chirping when she realizes you're not really paying attention to her.
When it starts getting later, Carmy asks you about pillows and sheets for your couch. The question makes your brow furrow, mouth twisting in confusion.
"What do you mean?" You ask, fighting a yawn.
"Sheets for um... So I can sleep on the couch?" He asks like it wasn't obvious.
"Not gonna let you sleep on the couch.." You mumble, rubbing at your eyes. "We'll just... Share m'bed.. Like we used to.."
Your reasoning shuts Carmy up, and when you look back at him, his cheeks are flushed. You sigh as you get up, Salem winding around your legs as you walk to Carmy's side.
"Go change.." You sigh softly, nudging Carmy's arm with your own on your way by. Salem chases after you as you go to your room to change into your own bed clothes. You close the door to just a crack and can hear Carmy getting his things from his suitcase. The bathroom door shuts outside of your bedroom, and that's when you start getting ready yourself.
When you're done, you pad out to the kitchen, turning off the lights that overcast it. Carmy leaves the bathroom as you're cleaning up, setting his clothes in the suitcase he's placed on your couch. Carmy looks comfortable in a way that makes your heart tug. Dressed in pajamas with the backdrop of your apartment makes this whole night seem much more domestic than it should.
Carmy stands awkwardly next to your table as you finish cleaning. When you walk past him to go to your room, he follows quietly as if waiting for permission that he actually could be in your room. You're surprised when he doesn't follow you around to your side of the bed as well. He watches as you slip under the covers, his face still flushed slightly when you look at him.
"Come on, Carm.." You sigh, looking at him as you lay down. Salem jumps up at the foot of your bed, curling around your feet. You're already falling asleep with your head resting against the pillow.
Carmy slips under the covers, keeping himself tucked against the far edge. In your half awake wisdom, you can't imagine why Carmy would want to be so far away from you. You had slept next to each other as children and a few times in high school, so you weren't sure why this would be any different. The idea confuses you, and you can't fight a way your brows furrow.
"Don't have to stay all the way over there, Carm.." You mumble, your voice deep with sleep. "Not gonna bite.."
You reach your hand out to him, fingertips brushing his forearm, causing him to pull back slightly. You bring your hand back, resting against the pillow you're lying against.
By way of apology, Carmy brings his hand from where it lay under the pillow and places it over yours. He wraps his fingers around yours, and you rub your thumb over his knuckles softly. You're not sure what possesses you, but you bring his hand to your lips, placing a gentle kiss to the back of it. You can hear Carmy inhale softly at the feeling before you're placing your hands back on the mattress between you.
That's how you both fall asleep. Hands clasped together against the sheets, facing each other, waking up at different times to take the other in.
Both content, safe and together.
Together again.
#saltnsugarbear#saltnsugarbear promptober#bearblrpromptober#not enough sugar#carmen berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto x reader#the bear fanfiction#carmy berzatto fanfiction#carmy berzatto imagine
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Middle-Class Seats, First-Class Fun pt. 2*
Summary: The sequel to Middle-Class Seats, First-Class Fun
You find yourself sat next to the Harry Styles on a plane.
And what better way to get to know each other than a quick induction into the Mile High Club?
Word Count: 2.1k
(Thank you for letting me spam you guys for one whole year🥹💞 I love you!!!!!)
*Contains Mature and Explicit content! Please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞 You are so much more important!*
“Hi, Stranger.”
Harry grins as he pulls the small door shut, secluding the two of you in the world’s smallest bathroom. “Hi.”
“Gonna be honest, I didn’t expect you to show,” you admit.
“Oh?” His arms cross as he takes a step closer, effectively closing the only gap between you. “And what about our earlier conversation suggested I wouldn’t?”
“Well, maybe the fact that you’re all talk and no game,” you retort, eyebrow raised as you look up at him. “Or the fact that you don’t seem like the quick-airplane-bathroom-fuck type.”
“I have a song about eating pussy, is that not enough?” he teases, a smirk dancing across his lips. “I feel like that should solidify my case.”
“Yeah, you’d think…but no.” Your eyes trail across his jaw, drawn to the sharp curve, intrigued by the subtle beauty. “Maybe if this were the first-class bathroom. Which would make a lot more sense for you.”
“What’s wrong with coach?”
“Nothing. When you’re poor. Which you’re not.”
“And that has to do with us fucking…how?”
You hesitate, mouth clamping shut. “I…don’t know.”
Nodding with an amused grin, he reaches out to place his hand on the small sink and lean forward, trapping you to the wall. “I think you’re nervous.”
“Well no shit, Sherlock.”
He hums, kind eyes helping to relax you. “Guess we’re both more talk than game.”
And maybe you are. Maybe this is nothing more than you calling his bluff. Or calling your own. Maybe this was you getting swept up in the idea of Harry Styles. The man, the myth, the legend. Maybe you just wanted to prove to yourself that you could.
Either way, despite the nerves, you’re oddly tantalized by the idea. Wanting to seize the moment, the opportunity that most people would kill for.
So, you surge forward, and press your lips to his.
It’s a hesitant kiss. On both ends. The first few seconds a tad awkward as you work to wrap your heads around how you got here. How you really feel about it.
And then…something changes.
He steps closer, straightening up to deepen the kiss, and you nearly wilt when his large hand slips around the back of your neck to keep you against him.
Things suddenly feel effortless. Practiced yet relaxed. Mouths and tongues moving together like they were always meant to. Molding seamlessly until all of your air belongs to him.
His other hand finds a home on your hip, pushing you against the small bathroom wall while his knee takes its place between your thighs.
And when he finally pulls back to rest his forehead against yours, it feels as though everything makes sense.
“We can go back to our seats,” he whispers, giving you an out.
But you don’t want an out.
“No,” you murmur, fingers tangling in the shirt on his chest. “No, you promised to make me scream your name. Can’t pussy out on me now.”
The smirk returns as he brushes his thumb along your cheek. “So I did. But I guess it depends on which name you call me by.”
Your breath hitches.
“You can call me Harry,” he begins softly, dipping back down to ghost his lips across yours, “or you can call me Daddy.”
And discovering that Harry Styles has a Daddy kink makes more sense than it should, and you have to grin as you press your mouth to his.
“Okay, Daddy,” you agree, just to watch him swallow. “Then why don’t you make good on your promise to fuck me?”
You watch the most beautifully dark expression flash across his face before he’s grabbing onto your waist to spin you around.
Your cheek is pressed to the wall while those large hands that have been taunting you for the past half hour begin to tease you again. Crawling up the inside of your thigh until he can grab onto the waistband of your jeans and yank the material down your legs.
“Just so you know,” he grunts in between the rustling of his belt, “I’m normally pro-foreplay. But I figure we don’t exactly have the time right now.”
“I know,” you agree. “It’s fine.”
He reaches around your hip to slide his palm down your cunt, and you sigh when you feel him cup you in his hand.
“What’s this?” he hums, rather sadistically as his nose brushes against your cheek. “Guess I didn’t need to work you up, anyhow. Seems you’re already dripping for me.”
Your lashes flutter as he kneads your pussy for a moment before he lets go to take hold of his cock.
“So, what’s it gonna be, angel?” he whispers, dragging the tip through your throbbing folds just to make you whimper. “You gonna be loud for me? Or are you gonna be quiet?”
More of a rhetorical question, you figure, because the answer is given to him when he pushes in, and you moan fervently.
He chuckles from behind you before it melts into some sort of delicious grunt. “That’s it. So fucking tight, darling. Take it, just like that.”
He pulls out, giving you only a second of reprieve before pushing back in. Stretching you a little more as he drives himself deeper into your cunt.
Your lip flies between your teeth as you swallow a string of curses and whines, desperate to feel him in every way possible.
“You all right?” he calls, and you feel his fingers gently squeezing your hip for reassurance.
It makes you smile. “Yeah,” you say back, nails scratching down the wall. “Go. Keep going.”
He obliges, working himself in at a quicker pace, and you see him watching out of your peripheral.
He seems mesmerized by the way his cock disappears into you. Addicted to the sounds now beginning to echo around the small space. Mixing in beautifully with his soft pants and your anguished whimpers.
“S’a good girl,” he murmurs beneath his breath, almost as if it wasn’t meant for you. “Fucking taking me so well, look at you. Pretty pussy just stretching for me. Likes having Daddy’s cock, doesn’t she?”
And maybe you shouldn’t be surprised by the filth coming from his mouth, but you are, and it makes you clench until you’re both gasping.
“Shit, angel,” he groans, burying himself a little deeper as you keen. “Like it when I talk to you like that, hm? Not so vanilla now, yeah?”
You want to thank your lucky stars for that damn book that led you both to this moment, nodding quickly as you squirm back against him. “Yes, Daddy—”
He pushes in to the hilt, overcome by the pleasure your words provide. His chest presses to your back, and instantly, you reach over your shoulder to grab onto his curls. Needing to hold him in some way.
“Fuck,” you sigh, vision hazy as your body works to accommodate him. “Okay go. Go, Harry, go.”
He smiles at the use of his name, and it does something strange to the butterflies already fluttering in your stomach.
“Okay,” he agrees, pulling back and readjusting his grip on your waist to keep you steady. “Be good, yeah?”
The faster pace begins. Hard thrusts that nearly knock the wind from your lungs as your body shakes with each snap of his hips into yours.
It’s oddly satiating. Perfectly full and teasingly relentless. Quick fucks aren’t normally your forte, but this? With Harry? In the world’s tiniest bathroom?
Euphoria.
“Fucking squeezing me, darling, shit,” he exhales, gripping you tight in his hand. “Pretty little pussy looks so good clenching around my cock. Like it, angel, don’t you? Like letting me fuck your sweet cunt the way you’ve been needing?”
And you don’t know how he knows you’ve been so desperate, but he does, and it makes you mewl as you drag your nails down his scalp.
“Oh, I know,” he coos but it’s dark. “Can just tell. So fucking cock drunk. Desperate for anything I’ll give you. Even let a stranger fuck you, hm? Let me take care of you the way you deserve?”
“Yes,” you breathe, mindlessly reaching back for his other hand. Once you find it, you intertwine his fingers with yours and drag his palm up toward your neck. Placing it against your throat until he seems to get the hint.
He says nothing, simply squeezes you in his grip. Until the corners of your vision get fuzzy, and the small bathroom gets smaller.
“That’s it,” he hums, almost as if luring you into the darkness. “Let go for me, baby girl. Just like that. Daddy’s got you.”
Everything is heightened. Every sense, every second. You can feel his facial hair rubbing against your cheek. Can feel the calloused tips of his fingers cementing to your exposed skin. Can taste the drink he had on your tongue.
There’s a knock on the door. A hard tap, and Harry’s pace doesn’t falter for even a moment as he calls, “Fucking occupied,” before slamming back into you.
The noise you make is loud enough to be heard by whoever was on the other side. Perhaps his intention, and it makes your pussy clench once more at the thought.
“Bet you’d look fucking perfect on your knees,” he continues, unrelenting. “With my cock down your throat. Fucking drooling for me. And you’d take me, wouldn’t you? Take my cock like a good girl. Make me proud.”
The suggestion is exciting. The image in your head of you looking up at the glorious stranger from your place on the floor. Getting to feel him on your tongue. Down your throat. Anywhere he’ll have you.
You bet he likes to see his cum painted across a partner’s skin. Likes to run his fingers through it. His tongue. Collect it and taste it before spitting it into their mouths.
Your entire body shudders from the mental picture and even if Harry doesn’t know what garnered this response, he seems pleased with it. Tugging on you tighter until you’re practically sitting on him.
You’re running out of time. Running out of willpower, and he releases your throat to find your clit. The first time he’s truly touched it, and the sensation that follows nearly kills you.
You hadn’t anticipated being so sensitive, but you are, and it’s apparent to you both from the way you jolt when he pinches you.
“Oh?” He’s chuckling again, entertained by your reaction. “S’that all it takes then? Poor little cunt just needs some extra attention?”
He presses into you and begins to rub small, hard circles along the delicate nerves. Ignoring your cries and pleas for more.
Instead, his foot kicks your legs further apart, and his mouth attaches to your neck. Nipping just below your ear as he whispers, “Bet you taste fucking divine, hm? Bet I could write a whole song about the way this pussy tastes.”
He lets go just to bring his hand to his mouth. Sucking on the soaked digits and groaning in your ear.
A shiver rolls down your spine before he drags his saliva coated fingers back to your clit. “So fucking sweet, angel. But you already knew that, didn’t you? S’why you were teasing me all fucking day. Cause you knew I’d get addicted to you.”
You’re so close to release, you can see it. Can actually see the blinding stars barreling toward you like meteors.
“And what if I am, huh?” He goes faster. Gets sloppier. Needing to get you both there. “What if I’m fucking addicted to you now? What if I can’t go without the taste of you?”
“Have it,” you sough, rolling your hips back against his cock. “Have me, Harry, please—”
“I will,” he growls, and you feel his cock twitch the closer he gets. “Fucking will, angel. Need you to come for me, yeah? Come for Daddy. Let me feel you around me, darling. Right fucking now—”
Everything is a blur. Maybe he comes first, maybe you do. It all melds together until it’s one, long string of orgasms and pleasure.
He doesn’t let you go for quite some time. Pushing you to the very brink, making sure it goes as far as it can. Even after you’ve come down and are squirming away from the ministrations to your clit.
The sadistic need to make sure you’re ruined is evident, and he only stops when you begin to collapse in his hold.
“Okay, easy, angel, easy,” he whispers, grasping onto your hips to keep you upright. “You’re all right, yeah? You okay?”
You nod weakly as you catch your breath, and he takes this as a good sign. Allowing you to stand on your own when you’re ready.
But he doesn’t go far. He bends down and pulls your jeans back up. Makes sure you’re all right.
You notice he purposefully leaves the mess between your thighs, and when you shoot him a questioning eyebrow, his only response is, “For later.”
Which you don’t mind at all.
I KNOW, I KNOW IT'S BEEN FOREVER!!!! I'M SO SORRY BUT THANK YOU FOR STICKING WITH ME AND BEING SO NICE, ILY ALL 😭💞💞💞
Previous Part:
~ Middle-Class Seats, First-Class Fun
~ Other Harry Blurbs
~ Full Masterlist
Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282
I'm also tagging you guys from the first part just in case, but if you've already moved on, I can absolutely understand 😭💞: @blackbookwhore @nellylayhoohoo @22fallenangel22 @watercolorskyy @ilovedilfs32 @nicodoesntexist @lelenikki @happypoptart
#harry#harry styles#harry edward styles#harry styles imagine#harry styles blurb#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fan#harry styles smut#harry styles x you#harry styles x reader#smut#harry styles one shot
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calling hotch daddy at work as a joke only for him to pull you into his office in an angry fit because he is HARD HARD
uh huhhhhh he definitely would!! *mdni!*
“three…two…one, go!” reid hollers, pulling his arm back before surging forward, you copy his movements, both of you letting go of your paper aeroplanes at the same time
yours glides steadily and mostly straight, diagonally across the room where as somehow, reid’s pulls up after takeoff, “cmon,” you exclaim, throwing your hands up
before you can say or do anything, aaron walks into your planes flight path, coffee in one hand, file in the other. “oh! aaron!” you gasp as the point of your paper aircraft hits him
he sighs, turning to look at you and reid, “really, you two? again?” he raises an eyebrow and wipes his file on his trouser leg, wiping spilt coffee off of it, “we’ve talked about this guys”
“sorry sir” reid almost winces as he speaks, fiddling with his fingers as he talks before taking off across the room, no doubt going to see where his paper plane ended up
you don’t move from your spot, a few feet away from aaron’s office, “sorry daddy” you giggle at him as he nears you, “will definitely, probably do it again” you joke
“my office, now” aaron talks lowly, using the hand holding the file to shove at your shoulder, turning you around to face his office. your eyes widen as he ushers you into the room and towards the seat in front of his desk
he moves silently around his office, putting the file in a tray, sliding his mug of coffee onto the sideboard and as he rounds the desk towards you, he shuts the blinds, closing you off from the rest of the office
“aaron i-”
“daddy? really?” he asks, cutting you off as he sits on the edge of his desk, your knees bumping against his legs, the closeness making your breath hitch
a blush creeps up your neck as you scramble to find words, “it was a joke?” it comes out unsteady, like a question. you rub your hands over your skirt and avert your eyes, unable to look up at him
“really? was it?” aaron’s voice is low, sending shivers down your spine and leaves your heart racing in your chest, “look at me” he huffs, tilting your head back himself, knuckle under your chin, “was it?”
your tongue darts out, swiping across your bottom lip as you stare up at him. slowly you shake your head, words failing you while your breath speeds up
aaron stands up and pulls you up too, turning you around to trap you between him and the edge of the desk, “look what you did,” he almost whispers, pressing into you slightly, chest to your back and judging by the hardness pressing against you, cock to ass
gasping, you press back into him, “aaron,” you whine softly. he leans forward, planting his hands on the desk either side of you, crowding into your space, it makes you dizzy.
“that’s not my name sweetheart,” he hums slowly, teasing. his tie bumps against the dip in your spine and the metal of his belt rubs against your ass, through your skirt
he takes a hand off of the desk, sliding it up your leg and underneath your skirt, hitching it up until your panties are on display for him, “come on honey, what’s my name” he urges you, like he needs to hear it, eyes fixated on his knuckle which ghosts over your panties, barely touching you
“daddy”
“good girl” aaron sighs and without warning he presses down against your clit causing a gasp to escape, tumbling past your lips much louder than you expected, aaron tuts behind you, “gotta be quiet honey, we don’t want everyone in the office knowing you call me daddy”
thanks for reading! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a kiss if you do, mwah ily !! send prompts to my ask box!
#❥ my works#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner smut#aaron hotch imagine#aaron hotch#aaron hotch smut#aaron hotch x reader#criminal minds smut#❥ aaron hotchner#❥ aaron hotchner fic rec#❥ aaron hotchner drabbles#❥ my aaron works
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𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐁𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒 – 𝟐𝟕
𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍: 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐩 (𝟏)
↬ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐉𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
↬ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬!𝐀𝐔, 𝐂𝐄𝐎!𝐉𝐚𝐲, 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
↬ 𝐜𝐰: 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫-𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐛𝐯𝐬𝐞, 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫
↬ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟓.𝟐𝐤 (not proofread!)
↬ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞, 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬, 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲. 𝐀 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐚 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐚 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐡 𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐥'𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐂𝐄𝐎.
"Is this your first time on a private jet? You seem so nervous."
Jongseong says playfully, his eyes roaming your pretty face as he allows himself to take in your side profile and every little detail of it.
You've been staring out of the little window for the past five linutes, nervously fidgeting with your jewelry and desperately trying to find a comfortable position in your large seat.
And despite the fact that Jay's more than just aware of your current emotional state, he can't get over how good you look in his private jet. It's like he chose it to fit you and your visuals all those years ago and for a moment he actually loses himself in the mental image of flying you around the world.
But, just as usual, all those thoughts and fantasies will remain nothing but illusions. Considering the fact the CEO's been trying his best to come up with a way to tell you about what he's been up to these past few days, Jay's had no choice but to accept every single one of your possible reactions. The ones where you don't hate his guts and actually stay by his side are his least favorite, simply because they give him false hope and his heart can't take any more of that.
Jay's very much aware, why his actions are morally wrong and even if he doesn't actually regret them, he wholeheartedly understands why you'd eventually react the way you probably will.
But regardless ofyour reaction, Jay always stands true to his words, so no matter what, he'll make sure to fight for you until the day you devote your whole life to someone else and even after that, he'll forever hold you close to the most sacred parts of his heart.
The longer he looks at you, the more he loses himself in the sweet embrace of your presence and the mere thought of having to let go of you hurst his soul but at the end of the day it's nobody's but his own responsibility to take.
As you turn to look at him with those pretty eyes of yours, Jay feels himself ringing with his own conscience as the urge to keep you safe and protected from the things he's been dealing with overwhelms him but he knows he has to tell you.
"I've actually never been on a plane before", you reply and chuckle nervously, your words surprising your boss and for a moment you feel slightly ashamed, only for all those worries to disappear as soon as Jay's lips stretch into a gentle smile.
"It's overrated, really", he says and from the honest expression in his eyes you know he's serious, "it might be a little scary at first but once we're in the air it's quite nice."
"Thank you for the reassurance, Sir", you sigh and finally feel your body relax, yet there's still this little bit of tension lingering in your muscles.
"Do you want me to sit next to you? Maybe that'll make you feel a little less anxious", Jongseong hesitates a little with his offer, just because he doesn't want to make you uncomfortable.
He knows you're basically dating Kim Jiwoong at this point, his friends have made sure to let him know about every single picture you've posted in relation to him and Hao's been quite enthusiastic about the two of you and even if he hates your boyfriend's guts, he'd never want you to think he doesn't respect you and your relationship.
On top of it all, to you, he's still just your boss, no matter how much he wants to change that, he'll have to accept it for now.
"Unless you don't feel comfortable then–", "Yes, please, Sir", you suddenly blurt out and look at him with big, glossy eyes and for a moment the whole world comes to a stop.
Jay has bever seen eyes as pretty as yours and with every passing minute of your little plea echoing in his head, he feels like he's going absolutely crazy.
Without another word, Jongseong casually gets up just to plop into the big seat right next to yours, a big smile on his lips as he finds comfort in the thought of you associating him with safety and protection.
That's all he wants. To protect you and keep you safe, to heal your wounds and take care of you the way you deserve it. There's this urge in the depth of his chest which becomes more and more unbearable as time passes.
You have absolutely no idea what's going on in your boss's head as your gaze shifts to meet his, yet the way his eyes are filled with nothing but adoration and gentleness has your heart skipping a beat.
This can't happen.
Not when you've actually started accepting the way things are between the tweo of you.
Not when you've finally come to the point where admiring and adoring him from afar has imprinted itself onto your brain.
Not when you've barely stopped yourself from falling in love with him.
You're quick to avert your gaze again, too scared of possible consequences it might come with and as you turn away from him, you miss the wave of disappointment washing over his features.
But it's okay. Jay know you're not quite there yet. He knows you need time even if he's currently running out of just that.
With a soft sigh, you watch the pretty stewardess politely greeting the two of you before she offers you something to drink and then proceedss to fo through the security checks with you.
You're not even necessarily scared about flying, but the general concept of something so big and heavy flying in the air with absolutely no problems sends shivers down your spine.
As the engine of the plane starts, you feel all the colour disappearing from your face, your hands tightening their grip on the seat as you try to prepare yourself for what's to happen.
You have no idea what to expect, yet the last thing your mind would have ever come up with is the suddenly feeling of Park Jongseong's big hand gently pulling yours away before intertwining your fingers with his own.
With your brows raised in surprise, your head basically shoots into his direction and all of a sudden, this very familiar feeling of being absolutely safe and protected overwhelms you.
"Tell me about the boys from your block", he suddenly says and smiles at you encouragingly, "it'll distract you and if it gets too much, just squeeze my hand, okay? Can you do that for me?"
For some reason, the softness of his usually so stern voice sends a jolt of hot arousal into the lower regions of your body and if it wasn't for the anxiety crippling up in your bones, you would have pressed your thighs together to just get rid of that awful tension in your cunt.
"Yes, Sir", you whisper and subconsciously mimic the way Jay's deeply inhaling and exhaling, his action essily calming your strained nerves and before you can give it another thought, you find yourself rambling about those few boys you've come to love and appreciate in the past three years.
You tell him about Doyeon and Seyeon, two brothers whose parents have abandoned them after their seperation, who have basically worked extra hard for everything they've achieved in all these years of being alone.
Of course you don't forget about Woohan, the young boy who has amde it his mission to interrogate every single guy who comes to pick up his favorite noona, just to make sure she doesn't get her heart broken again.
A little hesitant yet still enthusiastic do you start talking about the three oldest boys who have actually gotten into several physical fights with your ex boyfriend when he refused to accept your decisions and still showed up at your doorstep.
Jay never once looks away from your face, he takes in everything you say and saves it in the back of his mind as he can't help but adore you even more for the devotion and love you have for those kids.
By the time you start rambling about the other kids, the stewardess suddenly comes back and lets you know that taking off your seatbelts is okay now and with your brows furrowed in confusion you look at your boss, who's still firmly holding your hand.
"We're in the air now", he chuckles and gently caresses the back of your hand with his thumb, "you did so good for me. I'm proud of you."
His words hit you like a tonne of bricks, right in the stomach.
It takes you a whole minute to regain your composure because you've never been praised before. There's not an ounce of faux sympathy behind his words, every single one of them is honest and genuine.
He's actually proud of you.
"T-Thank you so much, Sir", your voice is a mere whisper and for a moment you actually contemplate whether or not to just crawl onto his lap and stay like that for the rest of your life.
You just know his hugs feel like the comfort of a home you've never had.
"You know you can call me Jay or Jongie, whatever you feel more comfortable with", he suddenly says and gently pulls his hand away from yours, not ready to push his luck, "but I don't mind the Sir either. Please, just know you're one of the few people who can call me whatever they want."
Yeah, at this point Jay's definitely not referring to his own name anymore.
You might think it's about all the formalities, when in reality there's a very specific yet oh so forbidden title flying around in his head and since your very first day, Jong's been daydreaming about hearing you call him just that.
Yet another fantasy he'll have to keep hidden in his heart and his mind forever.
"I know", you sigh and push your lips into a pout, "I just respect you a lot and it feels weird calling you by your name. I promise I'm trying my best!"
You chuckle softly and play woth the hem of your skirt, not realising just how much Jay is currently enjoying the close proximity of the two of you.
"I know you are, Y/N. You always do", he replies calmly and the longer he looks at you, the more his heart breaks as he thinks about how this might be one of your last conversations.
He's definitely going to miss your voice. But also the enthusiasm in everything you say as well as your precious smile.
"Have you looked at the menu yet? I know you were too nervous to have breakfast so don't hesitate to choose multiple dishes", Jongseong says and leans back in his seat, throwing his head back to calm his racing, aching heart only for the pain to get even worse.
The following hour is filled with random conversations about your mutual friends as well as both of you checking E-Mails, responding to a few and setting up a schedule for the next week. Jongseong actually manages to keep you busy enough to the point where the landing basically rushes past you.
Neither one of you gets the time to settle into the apartment first as you barely make it on time to your first meeting of the day due to traffic.
Once the third and last meeting of the day rolls around you're utterly exhausted. You've been the one to set up and organize his schedule for the past four months and despite recently starting to follow him around as his personal assistant, you would have never expected it to be even more exhausting and stressful than the ones in Seoul.
The thought of Jay working so hard all the time breaks your heart because from Yeonie's as well as Sunghoon's stories you can tell he barely has time for himself.
And as you find yourself in the backseat of the company car right next to him, you can't help but let the urge to take care of him and take some off the pressure and weight off his shoulders take over you.
Not even in a sexual manner but rather being there for him, showering him in affection and words of affirmation, giving him the energy and attention he deserves and just being his personified comfort.
Unfortunately those thoughts will forever remain nothing but part of your daydreams.
Once the two of you make it to his apartment, you feel the exhaustion of your twelve hour day finally get the best of you and all you can think about is taking a nice shower and them jumping into a bed which probably costs more than your monthly rent.
Jay casually greets the people in the lobby with a stern smile, his phone pressed against his ear as he waits for his mother to pick up and for some reason you can't help but feel slightly envious.
You wish you had a parent to call at the end of a day like this and the more you listen to the heartwarming conversation between your boss's and his mum, you feel this very familiar heaviness pn your chest returning to its place.
"This is your room", Jay suddenly whispers as soon as you pass one of the two bedrooms at the right end of the big hallway and with a grateful nod you thank the portier for his help and push your suitcase into your assigned bedroom.
You'd lie if you said watching Jongseong open the door to the room right across from yours didn't surprise you but for some reason you're not nearly as uncomfortable as you initially thought you'd be.
Knowing yourself the exhaustion and tiredness of today is gping to be enough to keep those stupid nightmares away and hopefully give you a full night's sleep.
After inspecting the room as well as the bathroom, which easily leaves you stunned with their sheer size, you're just about to take off your sweater when the sudden but gentle knock on your door startles you.
"I know you just want to rest but there's something I need to talk to you about", Jongseong says through the door and maybe it's the tone in his voice or maybe the choice of words but regardless of the reason, it triggers your anxiety and within a single second your heart starts thrumming in your throat.
You make your way to the door, yet can't even get yourself to focus as you try to think of possible reasons why Jongseong might be upset with you. You start going through every single meeting, every sentence, every single word you've uttered the past few hours just to realise that this was by far one of your best days on the job and that might be exactly why you're even more nervous.
While you're desperately trying to read his tone, Jongseong's about to throw up from the anxiety and pain boiling in his blood.
He's never felt like this before.
Everything he's done in his life he stood behind. Every decision, every action, every sentence, every word. So why is it that he'd rather set himself on fire than owning up to his actions and dealing with the consequences this time?
Maybe because this time he actually has someghing – someone to lose.
Maybe because this time he's going to be the reason for your pain and your tears.
Maybe because this time he's going to turn into his biggest nightmare.
But no matter what, he has to tell you about this. If he really wants you to know how much he cares about you and your well being, there's absolutely no going back from this.
Yes, he did what needed to be done all while being fully aware of your possible and understandable reaction, but none of that makes this any easier.
As soon as you swing open the door, Jay lets his eyes roam your face; the fesr and nervousness in your besutiful, soft features make his heart drop into his stomach and with a soft sigh he accepts his defeat.
"Don't be nervous, you haven't done anything wrong. You did excellent today." The words of reassurance leave his lips before his brain can overthink them and Jay actually hates himself for giving you yet another glimmer of hope just to shatter it all with his confession.
"Okay", you finally let out the breath you didn't realise you were holding in, "come in, please."
Jongseong watches the way you lead the way to the little couch on the other side of the room, patting the empty seat next to you with the sweetest smile on your lips and for a moment he actually considers keeping this little secret to himself just a little longer.
He can tell how much you're struggling to read his body language and he's unapologetically glad about it. He doesn't want you to see how miserable and pathetic he feels.
"Do you remember what happened the night of Sunghoon' birthday, Y/N?"
That's good. A question to start the conversation and see just how much you remember might make leading it into the right direction a little easier.
Might.
"Not really", you reply shyly, a little embarrassed yet aware that Jay would never judge you. Call it a gut feeling.
You carefully watcv your boss shift in his seat, he's already gotten rid of his jacket and the vest, leaving him in a simple white dress shirt and the fact he's rolled up his sleeves does not help your chaotic mind at all.
Why did he have to be so fucking attractive anyway?
"You were quite drunk, so I thought it'd be best if I brought you home so I did. Dohyun helped me bring you inside and once I lay you onto the couch, I thought you had fallen asleep but you had actually started crying."
Jongseong tries to stay as neutral about it as possible, simply because he doesn't want you to feel embarrassed or ashamed but from the way you suddenly hide your face behind your hands, he obviously didn't do a great job at that.
"No, stop", he quickly says and reaches for your wrists before wrapping his own around your hands and pulling them into his lap, "it's okay, really."
"I feel so ashamed", you whisper and feel the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, "I'm so sorry, Sir."
"Don't. Tears aren't something to be ashamed of", Jong's rather fast to stop you from overthinking his words, something he's been doing a lot more than you had realised these past few weeks.
"What I'm about to say isn't about the fact you cried, it's the reason for your tears", he explains and for the first time since the two of you had met, Jay actually looks away first as the shame now gets the best of him.
"Oh", you say and attentively let your eyes roam his side profile, the pretty little birthmark on his neck catching your attention the way it always does and beforr you can kose yourself in thoughts of kissing it, you pull yourself back into reality.
"You kept talking about your brother and how the things he's said are true", Jay finally manages to say, the words heavy on his tongue, the anger and wrath for your family even heavier on his chest, "and I really need you to listen to me first before making any decisions, okay? Please, Y/N, hear me out first and then you can hate me as much as you want."
"W-What? Why would I hate you, Jay?"
Your voice is small and fearful. His words and the lack of eye contact genuinely scare you because if you didn't know what to expect when he knocked on your door a few minutes ago, you're even more clueless now.
How could your mental breakdown about your brother's behavior possibly lead to a reaction like this from him?
"Because I – fuck – I did something I'm not proud of. I take full responsibility and accountability for my decisions and don't regret any of them because I know I did it all for you. To protect you, to keep you safe."
In response to those words your heart slams into the bottom of your stomach and you subconsciously dig your nails into his skin, yet not letting go of his hands as you crave his presence now more than ever.
"J-Jay, what are you talking about?"
The confusion and fear of what's to hit you breaks his heart into thousands of pieces but he knows he has to do this.
He has to.
He can't build anything on lies. He's not his father. He has to keep it absolutely real and honest with you or he'd be nothing but a cheap copy of the man he's despised all his life.
"I care about you a lot more than you think, Y/N", he whispers and for the first time in months, he feels tears pricking at the corners of his eyes, his heart breaking agonisingly slowly for the tenth time within just a few minutes, "and not just in a boss-employee kind of way."
If it wasn't for the feeling of his warm skin against yours and his beautiful face so close up to yours, you would have actually believed this current situation to be a dream.
How the fuck did you go from being exhausted and tired to adrenaline pumping through your veins because your boss, the one who's not only rejected you before but whom you've been trying to forget about for weeks, is basically confessing to you right then, right there.
But for some reason you can't let yourself indulge in the relief and happiness filling the tiniest bits of your heart; the air too heavy and intense.
"Jay, I don't understand what's going on", you whisper and finally allow the tears to find their way down your cheeks, "you rejected me."
"I know, Baby, I fucking know", Jay suddenly hisses through gritted teeth, his anger belonging to nobody but himself for making you go through this when he could have been more mature about this literally three weeks ago, "but I only did it because I thought it's the best for the both of us."
"You broke my heart", you breathe and move to pull your hands away from his grip, only for him to scoot closer with them still in his own, "I thought you didn't want me because I'm not enough."
"W-What?"
Jongseong never knew a single human bei g could experience this much pain from just a few words but your honest confession has shown him a whole new level of torture.
"I thought I was–", you bite back a soft sob, barely able to hold it together as the memories from that night start flooding back into your head, "not pretty enough. Not hardworking enough. Not good enough. I thought you rejected me because I'm not a girl like – Shiah or Miyeon."
Hearing those names from you actually makes his broken heart skip a few beats and i that exact moment Jay decides to devote his whole life to make sure thoughts or doubts like that never, ever cross your precious mind again.
"Oh, angel girl", Jong sighs and wraps his fingers around your arm, gently pulling you closer to his body snd before he can even initate it, you find yourself straddling his lap.
Everything you've been holding back these past few weeks, all those bad thoughts and doubts, emotions and words are finally getting the best of you and as you bury your face in the crook of Jay's neck, you feel the burden finally being lifted from your shoulders. And your chest.
"I've never, ever seen a woman like you, Baby", Jay whispers into your ear, one of his big hands gently caressing your back as the other massages your scalp and for a moment everything about your current position feels like a dream.
You've only given him your hand once, on your first day. And yet here you are, comfortably seated in his lap.
And nothing has ever felt as good and right as this.
"Yes, you're not like them and that's exactly what's driving me crazy about you. Please, forgive me for ever putting those doubts into that precious brain of yours."
And just as usual, you can't find it in you to doubt his words and the meaning behind them. Jongseong doesn't lie and you know this.
"Look at me, Baby", Jongseong breathes softly, his heart hammering against his chest as his body finally processes the fact that you're actually sitting on his lap, "come on, I wanna look at your perfect face."
You hesitate a little, too aware of your tears and too overwhelmed by his confession.
Your body isn't playing along and your brain's a complete mess. All you want to do is fall asleep exactly like this, yet you also can't get yourself to deny his gentle request.
"There you go, that's my good girl", Jay gulps harshly as the words leave his lips, he knows he's overdoing it but he doesn't scold himsemf for it as he knows this won't last and he has no choice but to make the best of it.
"My pretty girl", a soft sigh hits your face and you finally allowe yourself to mimic him as you lift your hands to take his perfectly sculptured face into your palms, "I'm so sorry I'm making you go through this. I did something unforgivable."
"N-No", you say quickly and shake your head, too captivated by just how much pretuerwhe is this close up, "it's okay. We can work through this if you still if want to."
You pause a little before looking back up into his eyes again.
"If you still want me."
The way Jong starts nodding his head almost hysterically startles you, but doesn't fail to ease thw heaviness on your heart at the same time.
"I want you so bad, Baby", Jay gulps again, thsi time barely swallowing his tears, "but I know you won't want me once you know what I've done."
Yet again, a wave of confusion hits you.
"I thought you meant the rejection", you say and look at him with a blurry vision, "what else – have you done?"
A beat of silence fills the room. The tension is thicker, heavier, stronger than ever and for the nth time within just a few hours Jay feels the urge to simply run away and never look back. But how could he ever leave you, his precious girl, behind?
"After you cried in my arms about the things your brother has been telling you about, Sunghoon told me you don't have any contact to anyone in your family so I've had someone look into your family because I wanted to know what you've had to deal with."
And in that particular moment, you can actually hear the shattering of your heart before the sharp pain rushes through your veins.
You feel yourself freezing in the midst of your touch, tears simply running down your cheeks as the feeling of betrayal overwhelms you.
Yet, different than you would have expected from yourself, you actually manage to mutter the first question that pops up in your completely empty brain.
"W-Why?"
"Because", but the words stay stuck in his throat as a veil of tears blurr his vision at the realisation that he's actually lost you now.
"Answer me, Jongseong", you say, your voice still as small as ever, your heart too broken for your body to raise it's volume and all of a sudden the feeling of sheer mental and emotional exhaustion finds its way back into your veins.
"Because I wanted to hurt them."
And there it is. Nothing but the actual truth.
Something he's yet to admit to himself because even if your safety and protection are and will forever remain his number one priority, the urge to revenge your pain has made itself comfortable rathee high up that list.
"What?"
This time, that tiny word holds actual confusion.
What does he mean? What is that supposed to mean? Why would he, someone who doesn't even know your brother's name, hurt him? All because you cried because of him?
"They hurt my Baby and I wanted to hurt them back. Every single one of them. Every single one of your brothers. I wanted to destroy their lives and have them regret the way they treated you for the rest of it. I wanted to take revenge for you, Baby", the last word is nothing but a whisper.
"But – wait – you know what they've done to me? What they've put me through? How – did you have someone hack into my phone? Be fucking honest with me, Park Jongseong."
All this time Jong's been craving to hear his name from your lips but now he actually despises it. All this anger and disappointment in your voice makes him hate his own name and everything it stands for.
Yet, just as he's told himself, there's now backing out of this.
It's the truth and nothing but the truth from now on.
"No", he says quickly, and looks at you with teary eyes, "I had him look into your family only. Their financial, medical and criminal records, no chats or phones and any other devices."
"Wow", you breathe and pull away from him yet for some strange reason you don't feel the need to get off of his lap.
No matter how hurt you are, you're not quite ready to let go of this feeling just yet.
"I'm sorry", Jay finally apologizes, "I know I should have just asked you but after hearing you cry so much and talking about yourself like that I just couldn't help it. You're – just the thought of people hurting you has my blood boiling."
"You just hurt me", you say and hate how your bottom lip suddenly starts shaking as another row of tears find their way to freedom, "I just – feel so betrayed, Jongie."
His name is drowned in one of your soft sobs but to his surprise, you don't pull away even further but rather bury your face back into his neck.
Maybe he hasn't lost you after all.
"I know, angel girl", he sighs and allows his own tears to stream down his temples as he throws his head back and pulls your closer against his strong chest, "I'm so fucking sorry."
"S-Sorry isn't enough."
A few moments filled with nothing but the sound of your sobs fill the silent space of the room, each one slashing a knife through his heart and pushing him even deeper into the pain of hurting you, his most precious treasure.
Telling you how he feels wasn't supposed to be like this.
Jong loses track of time as he tries his best to calm you down and by the time your cries finally die down, he notices the steady movement of your upper body and the lack of motion in your limbs.
You cried yourself to sleep.
In his arms.
Because of him.
← 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 — 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 →
(A/N: the promised cliffhanger BUT dont worry, next chap's written too so i'll give y'all exactly what asked for 🫣 thank you so much for all the love babies, you're truly the best! feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!🩷🧸)
TAGLIST CLOSED: @soonigiri @xrr-s4sha @kwiwin @heelcvr @deobitifull @kpoprhia @doodlelibrary @abrazosolorcereza @certifiedmoa @sleeping-demons @heerinnie @ohmy-moonlightx @heeswif3y @hoonieluv @fakeuwus @jjaeyuns @cheybabey @ineedsomezzz @super-amberlynn @kshoshi @tinie03 @soiimo @mimikittysblog @primroselover @heebrry @jebetwo @donghyckl @07myonlylove @enhamysunshines @quemirasboboandapaya @lostwonderwall @seuomo @enhaz1 @teawithbucky @beomgyusonlywife @dammit-jjk @lhsvibez @azurez @boutyouwonu @finchyyy @ocyeanicc @jaylaxies @glitterssim @in-somnias-world @zerasari @spookyauthorspopmusictrash @capri-cuntz @fluerz @3amstarlight
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Love At First Sight
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Princess!Reader
Word Count: ~1.6k
Warnings: fluff
Summary: It's your first time in America, and you do your best to blend in. No one needs to know who you really are, and you're really good at playing pretend.
Play Pretend Masterlist
Square Filled: "stop. just stop." for @mfbingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
x
You look out the window of the plane in thought. The decision to leave everything you’ve ever known wasn’t rash but it didn’t make it any easier. Nineteen hours on a plane really gives you time to think about the new life you’re stepping into. Someone in the States is waiting for you, to take care of you and help you through this difficult time.
What is America like? You’ve never been there but have always wanted to go. You only know what you’ve heard from stories and other people’s experiences. It’s so big that there are more than five different time zones. You were never able to travel to different countries for your protection but America seemed like the dream to be.
Now it’s reality.
When the plane lands, you watch everyone get out of their seats and grab their bags from the compartments above. Just follow what they do. No one is out to get you. You’re safe here. You grab your bag and hold it close as you wait for your turn to get off the plane. People get off like sheep in herds. You’re not sure what to do or where you’re going so you follow the flow of traffic. Some people break off to grab something to eat or use the bathroom but the majority of people head down to the baggage claim to gather their bags.
You wait patiently as the conveyor belt brings out the bags. You tried to be as inconspicuous as possible so you had gotten a plain black one. That was a mistake as most of the bags are black. You put a pink princess sticker on the top so you’ll look for that. You grab the right bag and haul it to your side before looking around the busy airport.
People pass by you in a hurry to get on with their lives but you’re not sure what to do. There are two police officers with dogs near the sliding doors, so you head over there while being careful not to run into anyone or get in anyone’s way.
“Excuse me?” Both offices turn to you as the dog sniffs your leg and bag. “Do you know where pick up and drop off is?”
“Yes. Right through these doors and to the right.”
“Thank you.”
You leave and head right where the officers directed you. The only thing you know about the person meeting you is his name, Don Stockwell. Someone very close to you trusts the man you’re meeting, and you trust your friend with your life. If he says this man is good then he is good. Some of the crowd clears out as people get picked up, and you see a sign with your last name on it. Thank God.
“Don?” you ask as you approach him.
“Y/N?”
“Yes.”
“Wow, it’s nice to finally meet you. Come here.” He pulls you in for a hug which you return. When you pull away, you notice a scar running across his face starting from his forehead down to the opposite cheek. He’s not ashamed of it or anything because his hair is slicked back when it’s long enough to cover most of the scar. “Let me get your bags.”
He places them into the trunk of the car before the two of you get in. He waits for the road to clear before pulling onto it.
“You look terrified, my dear. Don’t worry. Ben told me everything before you arrived. I’m going to take good care of you.”
“Okay,” you chuckle nervously.
Don drives you into the city of Quantico where there is a line of small houses. These houses don’t have driveways so people are forced to parallel park on the street. The house is small length-wise but has what looks to be three stories high. It’s white with three steps leading up to the front door. It’s small, quaint, and quiet. Everything you’ve wanted for the past year. Only recently were you able to actually go after what you wanted. Don takes your bags inside, and the inside is even more beautiful than the outside. Right off the bat, there is a slim staircase on the left side by the wall. The front door opens to the living room and behind that is the kitchen. The only thing separating the kitchen from the living room is a half-wall. It keeps the floor plan open while still separating the distinctive rooms. There is a door presumably to a basement underneath the staircase but with a padlock on the door.
“So, here’s what’s going to happen now.” Don sits on the staircase at eye level with you. “You’ll introduce me as your uncle who you’re staying with. Your parents are out of town and won’t be back for a while due to work.” You nod in understanding. “I’m working on getting your documents ready like a new birth certificate and a driver’s license.”
“I don’t know how to drive a car.”
“You don’t need to. Everyone carries a license here.”
“Oh, okay.”
“I also got you a job at the new coffee house down the street. It’s within walking distance so you don’t have to worry about using public transport or driving. It doesn’t pay well but it’s not meant to. I’ll pay all the bills here. This job is just meant for you to blend in for a while.”
“When do I start?”
“Monday.”
“Thank you for everything you’re doing for me. I know it can’t be easy.”
“Don’t mention it,” he waves you off. “I’m going to make it an early night but feel free to make this place like home.”
He gets off the stairs and heads to the second floor where the bedrooms are. This is nothing like what home is like. This entire house is the size of your bedroom back home but you’re going to make the most of this situation. After all, you asked for this. You take both suitcases upstairs to your bedroom which is also small. There is a small book corner where the window juts outward. A small bench rests below the window, making the room appear bigger than it normally is.
You start to unpack your things and see some of the items you took from home. Your parents must be worried sick about you but you needed this change for yourself. Both your parents were arranged to be married back then like tradition, but you didn't want that for yourself. You love them with all your heart but they didn’t understand when you told them you wanted more from life than luxury and marrying for politics.
Your past will come knocking eventually, so you’ll get as much as you can from this new life as you can before you’re sucked back into it.
Come Monday and you’re standing outside the sleek and modern coffee shop named “The Coffee Shop”. The place is already busy but you hear that’s normal for this type of establishment. You walk inside and feel slightly overwhelmed by the amount of people. The only way you could be around this many people back home is if your mom or dad and your bodyguard were in the room.
“Can I help you?” a woman asks.
“Um, I’m looking for Cindy?”
“That’s me. How can I help you?”
“My uncle, Don, said to come in for work on Monday. Is that right?”
“Yeah, he said you’d stop by.”
“Thank you for this opportunity.”
“Don’t mention it. Follow me.”
Cindy takes you behind the counter and to her office to give a bit of training. Since The Coffee Shop is slammed, she can’t give you proper training. For now, you’ll be stocking stuff and cleaning what you can until it starts slowing down. You wrap the black apron around your waist and immediately get to work. You watch everyone work like a well-oiled machine. Everyone has a part to do and a place to be in. You’re kind of in the middle of everyone’s way.
“Sorry,” you mutter when someone knocks into you.
That work is becoming your new favorite since you must have said it at least twenty times in the first hour alone. You try not to be in anyone’s way as you restock the items and clean the countertops. You pass by one of the machines that has a drink set up to it but no one is around to take care of it. How hard could this be? You press a button on the front of it and thick fluffy cream comes squirting out the machine.
“No!” You press some more buttons to make the machine stop. “Stop. Just stop.”
“Push the button on the side to turn it off.”
You look at the man who spoke to you. Your hand slips off the machine and into the pile of cream on the counter. You quickly turn the machine off and give the stranger a shy smile.
“Can you tell it’s my first day?” One of your coworkers gives you a scowl when she realizes the mess you made. “Sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it. I get feeling overwhelmed,” the man says.
“Spencer?”
The man gets up and walks to the pickup counter to grab his order. Instead of leaving, he walks right back over to you.
“I’m Spencer Reid,” he smiles.
“Y/N.”
“I have to go but will I see you here tomorrow?” You can’t find the words so you nod. “Good.”
You watch Spencer go with a slight smile on your face. Something clicked for you when you first looked into his honey-brown eyes. You felt something that you have never felt before. Not even when you were forced to be with Henry. What’s the saying? Love at first sight? You’re not sure if it’s real but you definitely felt something for Spencer.
You just hope you don’t ruin it before it has a chance to be something real.
x
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#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid angst#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fluff#criminal minds angst
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Mother's Day surprise | Caitlin Foord x Reader
Where you use Mother's Day as a disguise for a different kind of surprise
Woso masterlist | Words: 1.3k
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“Hey baby,” You greet your girlfriend in the bathroom, while hugging her from behind. She was getting ready for an Arsenal morning training session. After placing a few soft kisses onto her shoulder you continue your sentence, “I’m off to run some errands, do you need something from the store?”
Caitlin turns around in your hold, “Could you get some more of those protein bars you got last time?” You smile and nod, feeling accomplished on finding something new that your girlfriend loves. She pecks your lips and puts her arms around your shoulders, bringing you in for a hug.
“Oh, and don’t forget our Mother’s Day facetime call with my mom at two!” She says as you step out into the hallway. “I’ll be there. I should be back home before you are.”
You make a quick stop at the grocery store to get Caitlin the protein bars she asked for, before you drive to the airport. Technically you were running errands, so you didn’t lie, it’s just that the errand was to pick up her mom, sister, and her sister’s fiancée from the airport.
Jamie notices you first, and runs up to hug you. “It’s been too long!” Renae is close behind and joins in on the hug. Lastly Simone arrives by your side, she goes in for a big hug as well. “Thank you so much for flying us out here, it really means the world, darling.”
When everyone’s baggage is in your trunk and the Foord family is situated in your car, you make the drive back to your home. “So, how is my future daughter in law doing?” Simone asks you from the passenger seat. “Simone, you know she has to say yes first, right?” You chuckle. “I do, but Cait would be a fool to say no.”
The rest of the drive you catch up with your girlfriend’s family. Back at your home they all plop down on the couch, exhausted from the long flight. You get everyone something to drink, but they are way more interested to see the ring you had picked out. Jamie had helped you pick it out, but she thought it was even more beautiful in person.
When you hear Caitlin’s car pull up, you quickly hide the box, and walk towards the door. “Hi love, I missed you.” She says and immediately falls into your arms. “Hi baby, I missed you too.” You peck her lips and close the door behind her. “Can you close your eyes? I have a surprise for you.”
She closes her eyes and lets you guide her to the living room. “What is it? Did you find me another flavour of those delicious bars?” She was really too pure for this world, the little things meant so much to Caitlin. “I think you’ll like this better than a protein bar, baby. Open your eyes and see for yourself.”
Caitlin opens her eyes, and her mouth falls open in shock at the surprise in front of her. “Wait, what? What are you guys doing here?” She stares at the trio in front of her, overcome by emotions she runs into her mom’s arms with teary eyes.
“Y/n flew us out here for Mother’s Day.” After hugging both Jamie and Renae as well, Caitlin turns to you. “Thank you so much, you are the best. This is so amazing.”
You hang out with her family in the living room for a bit longer while Caitlin takes a quick shower, before you’d all head over to a nearby restaurant for lunch.
After lunch you suggest going for a stroll around town, having the travelling trio as an excuse to hide behind. With them having sat in a plane for so long, and then making them sit in a restaurant, giving them the opportunity to stretch their legs seemed logical.
Caitlin had no idea you were leading everyone towards the spot you were planning to propose to her. The spot you had gone to every couple of days for the past few months. The spot you had arranged for a professional photographer to meet you at. The sport where you would ask one of the most important questions of your life.
You grew more nervous by the minute, as you walked up the path you had walked so many times recently. Caitlin was too busy into conversation to notice your nerves, but Jamie noticed and walked in step with you. Jamie knew exactly how you felt, having experienced the same nerves that you were feeling when she proposed to Renae. She puts her arm around your shoulder and gives you a quick squeeze, “You’ve got this.” She whispered into your ear.
One more corner and there would be a lookout spot over the pond you were walking past. You relaxed a bit, when you saw that there were no people at the look out spot currently. You apparently knew your girlfriend better than you thought you did, ‘cause when Caitlin’s eyes fell on the lookout she instantly dropped the conversation with her mom and grabbed your hand, pulling you towards it. “This is such a pretty spot! Jamie, can you please take our picture?” Instead of taking a picture, Jamie started filming, aware of the photographer hidden away.
“You should do one where you’re looking out over the pond, it would be so cute.” Renae suggested, winking your way when Caitlin had turned around. This was it, this was the moment. You look out over the pond together, but after a few seconds you turn towards Caitlin, and get down on one knee. The box taken out of your pocket seconds ago, now open towards her, waiting for her to notice.
Your heart was beating a million miles an hour, as Caitlin turned your way. The moment she realises what is happening, she gets teary eyes. “Caitlin Jade Foord, you are an incredible person, and you have been my rock over the years. I love you so much, and I cannot see my future without you in it. Will you make me the happiest girl in the world and marry me?”
Cailtin started nodding her head midway through your sentence and once you finished your question she voiced the answer that went along with her head movements. “Yes! A thousand times yes!”
After putting the ring on her finger, she pulls you up and brings you in for a hug. You were living in your own world, not even having noticed Jamie stepping to the side, and the cameraman moving forward. Together they captured every moment. From the proposal itself, to breaking apart from the hug, to sharing a kiss, to Caitlin properly looking at the ring for the first time.
She turns around to her family with a big smile on her face. “Wait, they knew. You flew them in for this, didn’t you?” You nod, “I mean I would’ve flown them in just for Mother’s Day too, but I know how much you love your family, and I didn’t want them to miss this.” Caitlin hugs you again, before pulling you towards them.
You share some hugs with them while they congratulate the both of you, before you take a few more engagement pictures showing off the ring.
It’s crazy to think that Caitlin was your fiancée now. You couldn’t stop looking at the ring for the rest of the walk back home. The rest of the day was filled with joy and happiness, together with your fiancée and her family.
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caitlinfoord and y/n_y/l/n posted
caitlinfoord: I still can't believe this is real. So ready to marry you, and spend the rest of our lives together💍❤️
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don't push your luck | knj
you’re asked to present at an important meeting, but of course, your rival has to come along for the ride.
✨ title: don't push your luck | one-shot ✨ pairing: namjoon x f!reader ✨ genre/au: angst | ex college rivals, e2l, co-workers, one-bed trope ✨ rating: pg-18 | ✨ word count: 6.4k ✨ warnings: language, joon loves to call reader a lot of pet names, suggestive language, they're both kinda jerks to one another, they've also known each other for a long time (and slept together once), both are literary agents, mentions of surgery and cancer, banter, mentions of alcohol, they sleep in the same bed, there is a small hug, reader has misconceptions of joon, did i mention angst?, reader likes to blame namjoon for her shortcomings ✨ a/n: hi--so this was originally supposed to be out for joonie's birthday lmao and here it is a few weeks later. don't be afraid to let me know what you think. i love hearing from readers.
“Hold the door!”
A heaving sensation fills your chest and you feel out of breath. Everything you could imagine going wrong before a flight happened—your alarm wasn’t set, the Uber arrived late and hit every traffic light, security ‘needed’ to rifle through your suitcase for suspicious items, and the stupid expensive carry-on you purchased has given up on you.
“You made it just in time,” the attendant smiles and scans your plane ticket.
“Oh, thank god.”
You’re grateful to be in first class and now you can finally relax. It’s even better when you look at your row and the seat next to you is empty. There are a few glares from other passengers, but you don’t care–you’ve made it, and that’s all that matters.
When you settle into your seat, you check your phone for any last-minute work emails. The flight attendant announced the plane was ready to taxi for take-off. They ask everyone to be seated and buckled.
As you’re ready to plug your earbud in, you hear a muffled bang from behind. Peering over your shoulder, you realize you’re in the row before the bathrooms. Great, you think, that’ll be fun. You can hear clinking and clanking from the bathroom door along with someone shuffling out as the door slam shuts.
“Sir, please take your seat. We’re ready for take-off,” the flight attendant says.
The man clears his throat. “Oh, yes, of course. My seat’s right here.”
You look up to see none other than the person who has become the bane of your existence, Kim Namjoon. They say keep your friends close, but your enemies closer and he loved to be so close to you alright–everywhere you are to be exact.
Your jaw clenches as he plops down beside you. A few seconds later, a woman emerges from the bathroom. She brushes past the attendant, holding a card between her fingers as she peers down at Namjoon. “That was fun. Call me sometime,” she grins while walking away.
“You’re disgusting.” A shiver runs down your spine as one can assume what they were doing in there.
Namjoon gives you puppy eyes. “You’re so mean to me,” he pouts, folding his arms against his chest as he looks down. Not a split second later, he turns to you with a smirk. “I can rock your world whenever you want, angel.”
If only he could see the smoke fuming from your ears. He would never let that one time you slept with him go, would he? It was a moment of weakness you wish you could take back.
You scoff at his comment. “I can’t believe they just let anyone on airplanes now.”
His eyes rake over you. “I could say the same about you,” he retorts.
“What are you doing here, anyway?”
“What do you think I’m doing here, darling?”
Your body cringes at the stupid pet name. “Oh, I don’t know, to annoy the fuck out of me?” you say, flashing a wry smile.
“Ah, yes. That’s on my itinerary too, but you know I can’t resist an all-expenses-paid trip when it’s offered.”
This was your chance to make an impression on one of the biggest publishing houses. But with Kim Namjoon tagging along on this little trip? He will consume your thoughts because you can’t think of anything else when he’s around–plotting and scheming ways to take you down.
“Just stay out of my hair tomorrow.”
Namjoon sucks his teeth. “Wish I could, sweetheart. But, whatever Ms. Davis wants, she gets.”
A part of you wondered if Namjoon was sleeping with her to get to the top of the food chain, like the vulture he is. You shivered at the thought of the two in compromising positions. Namjoon’s college shenanigans were something that continued even into adulthood, you guessed.
The blinking cursor in this blank Word document has been mocking you, thinking you’re a clown. But you blame Kim Namjoon. He’s pushed his seat back, legs crossed and reclined, hands behind his head as he’s laughing obnoxiously at the movie on his computer screen. Every stifled laugh and clap has you rolling your eyes.
You can’t concentrate when he’s around, and that’s how it’s always been since sophomore year of college. The countless conversations with yourself because you had to be ready with a witty remark in case he is a smart-ass about anything and everything.
It was a sweet relief when you walked across that stage to shake the president’s hand and retrieve the rolled-up paper. And when you lifted your tassel from one side to the other, you exhaled because you never had to cross paths with him again.
That is four years into your job, and who shows up sitting in your office? None other than Kim Namjoon–your old academic rival.
You’re 29. No man should have you gritting your teeth, ready to claw at him. Then again, he’s no ordinary man–more like the devil incarnate. He makes your skin crawl. His presence makes you want to jump out of a window–because he’s suffocating, and the air in your lungs doesn’t exist.
Okay–maybe you’re exaggerating. But right now, you want to spill your glass of red wine just so he’ll have a stained shirt.
Your mouth twists as you nudge the giggly goon head. He takes off the noise-canceling headphones. “What?”
“Can you zip it? I can’t concentrate,” you say, repositioning in your seat.
Namjoon snickers. “Aw baby, you weren’t able to concentrate before I even started the movie. What makes you think me turning it off will help now?”
With a click of your tongue, you’re unsure why you even bothered asking him, so you return to your blinking cursor and blank document.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we have begun our descent into New York City….” the announcement continues.
Guess it didn’t matter, anyway. You’ve spent two hours unproductive on a flight while Namjoon lollygags. At least you’ll have time to work on your presentation in peace when you get to your hotel.
You notice the way he walks and the way his bag is slung over his shoulder-practically about to drop, and you can’t forget the stupid overcoat that’s a tad too big for his frame. The crooked black tie contrasts against the crisp white button-down, and you want to help him fix it, only to make it snug enough to choke him a bit. It’s the way his cheeks lightly push against his thick black-rimmed glasses when he smiles, and his crescent eyes disappear, then immediately he widens them. It’s the way his hair falls perfectly above his glasses, and he daintily moves it away like the unflawed prince he is.
You hate you notice all these details about Kim Namjoon, but you’ve been around him long enough to have your guard up in case he pulls any funny business.
He doesn’t even care to check in at the front desk. Instead, he runs off to the bar when he sees a beautiful woman walking the same way.
You’re third in the check-in line, and you can’t help noticing the crowd hanging out in the lobby. Everyone’s dressed as some kind of anime character. It almost makes you feel underdressed in your plain white tee that’s tucked into your jeans.
A nudge from the side causes you to catch your footing. You clench your jaw before breathing out a sigh of frustration. He’s like a fly that won’t leave you alone.
“Want a sip? I think you could use a drink,” Namjoon says, tipping his glass toward you.
“I don’t drink on business trips.”
“Damn, baby. Lighten up. One drink won’t kill you,” he raises a brow and smirks. “Maybe it’ll even warm you up to me.”
If only your eyes could shoot laser beams every time he opened his smart mouth. Facing him, you took a step toward him, pretending to pick off lint from his coat. “It’s cute you think I’d warm up to you,” you pout.
Namjoon gives a lopsided grin, licking his lips. “Don’t worry, love. I’m sure we’ll become real cozy.”
When it’s your turn at the front desk, the receptionist flashes a warm smile, asking for your information. “Is this man with you as well?”
“No,” you say.
“Yes,” Namjoon chimes in.
You roll your eyes, glaring at the man who is the bane of your existence. “No. Nope,” you say, shaking your head. “He is not with me. He needs his own room.”
The receptionist doesn’t respond. She types and clicks around on the computer, her eyes darting around the screen. “I’m sorry ma’am, but it looks like we only have one room left,” she says, avoiding your gaze.
“What do you mean there’s only one room left?” you articulate, gritting your teeth.
The receptionist clicks around her screen again. “Again, I’m so sorry, ma’am. But we’re overbooked because of the anime convention in town. We can book this room for the two of you or give you a free hotel stay for another time to compensate for the inconvenience.”
Free hotel stay for another time? It wasn’t an option at the moment. You needed this hotel room to prepare for your presentation tomorrow.
Someone cosplaying as Sailor Moon walks past you and Namjoon. His elbows are propped on the counter as he faces toward the lobby. He turns to you. “Guess we’ll just have to share,” he raises a brow and licks his lips.
“You cannot think I’ll sleep in the same bed as him. I’d rather burn in hell instead.”
Namjoon turns to the receptionist. “She’s joking. She doesn’t want to sleep in the same bed because she knows she can’t control herself around me,” he grins, holding his hand out for the key card. “We’ll take what you have, love.”
You grumble, muttering curses under your breath as you grab your things, heading toward the elevator. First, he shows up unannounced, and now you have to share a room with him. Let alone a bed? What’s next? He’ll take over your presentation, you bet.
Namjoon whistles a cheerful tune while strolling down the hallway. How is he like a ray of sunshine right now? But to you, he is like a lingering cloud ready to rain on your parade.
When he reaches the door, he turns to you, still whistling, tapping the keycard against the sensor. The door almost slams in your face. You’re struggling to keep the heavy door open while dragging in your luggage.
“Really?” You huff with irritation in your voice.
Your eyes follow him as he makes himself comfortable on the bed. He’s lying down, his legs are dangling off as his feet touch the floor. And you hope the phone screen illuminating his honey skin drops on his face. You’re vile, you know. But Namjoon’s like an itch you can’t seem to reach.
Setting down your things, you walk over to him, slotting yourself between his legs, arms folded against your chest. “What are you doing in my bed?”
He chuckles, placing the phone beside him. He props himself up on his elbows, eyes raking over you. “Waiting for you to hop on, baby,” he sneers, patting his thigh.
How are you supposed to get any work done if he’s around invading the very air you breathe?
“In your dreams, Joon. You’re sleeping on the couch.”
“Oh, baby girl. You don’t even wanna know what you do in my dreams.”
His dreams, huh? You’ve wondered how many times you’ve shown up. “Let me guess, am I strangling you?”
Namjoon sits up, pushing himself off the bed to stand. It forces you to take a step back. There’s a moment of silence before he speaks, “Actually, you’re the one who likes it, remember? Not me, princess.”
You’re inches away from him and you hope he doesn’t see you visibly gulp. It’s like everything is stripped away when Namjoon’s around. As much as you try to hide it, you hope he can’t see through your bullshit.
Clicking your tongue, you try to compose yourself, tilting your head as you gaze into those dragon eyes. “Keep dreaming, Joonie because that’s the closest you’ll ever come to fucking me.”
“Again—” he corrects you. His gaze turns dark as he scans you from head to toe. He grasps your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Come on, love. Don’t you want another taste?”
You roll your eyes, pushing away his hand. “Another taste of Kim Namjoon?” you tut. “Please—I eat boys like you for breakfast.”
A stupid grin spreads across Namjoon’s face. His scent invades your space again, making you step back. “Well, I’ll be sure to serve you breakfast in bed tomorrow. I hear the sausage is great.”
You huff a breath, glaring at the tall, beefy man. “I swear to god, Kim Namjoon if you don’t stay on your side of the bed—there’s gonna be hell to pay!”
Namjoon puts his hands up in defeat. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll keep my package safe, but it's cute you think your mouth is big enough for me.” He raises a brow, gently nibbling on his bottom lip.
You scoff. “Don’t flatter yourself, Joon. Always talking a big game, but you gotta put your money where your mouth is love.” You almost retch as the last word rolls off your tongue.
The night you slept with Namjoon was a hazy one. You blame the wine that was coursing through your veins and the critique you received from your professor—it messed with your head and you wanted nothing more than to get your mind off it. Namjoon was in the right place at the right time—annoying you like always. Naturally, he wouldn’t shut up, so you shut him up. One thing led to another and before you knew it, you had slept with your rival.
Walking away, you grab your bag, breathing a sigh of relief once you’re out of the room. It’s a stupid game the two of you have played since college—he riles you up, and you retaliate, but you would try your best to not let him get to you.
You spent the last few hours sitting in the hotel’s bar, with headphones on as you clicked and clacked away at your laptop, finally getting your thoughts onto this Word document. There’s no music playing. You wanted to drown out the noise of the crowd.
As you’re facing out toward the lobby, you look up, glimpsing the bane of your existence, Kim Namjoon. You watch as he makes his way out of the hotel lobby, and now is your chance to sneak back up to the room and have some quiet for once.
When Namjoon’s out of view, you gather your things, making your way back up. As the door closes, a breath expels from your lips and you can finally breathe again.
Sitting down at the small table, your stomach growls, a reminder that you had ignored for the past hour because this presentation was more important than nourishment. You’re more than halfway finished, and your reward would be a delicious meal.
It’s nearly 9 o’clock, and your meal is nowhere in sight. The outline is finished, talking points are ready to go, but your laptop is dead, and with your luck, you forgot to pack the charger.
You want nothing more than to disappear and crawl into a hole and never come out of it. You’re ready to jump ship without a lifejacket—it’s practically what you’re doing going into this presentation. If only you had more time to prep instead of being thrown into this so last minute. Maybe you shouldn’t have told your boss you’re always ready for whatever’s thrown your way.
The rumbling in your stomach continues, but you’d rather wallow in self-deprecating thoughts than fill your belly with a delicious meal.
Why can’t things go your way for once?
As you’re sitting on the couch beside the window, a sprinkle of rain falls, and it’s perfect, actually–matching your exact mood. You place your chin against the jade-green velvet-colored couch, breathing a sigh of frustration.
How are you meant to get others to care when you're apathetic about why you got into this profession in the first place? You remember discovering your first author and how they made you kick your feet and giggle all night. The feeling of watching someone grow from a small audience into a commercial success made you love your job, and when you and an author are on the same wavelength and both so passionate about a story? You were unmatched when the stars aligned.
But this trip was a different story. You had been working with this author, but Ms. Davis asked Namjoon to chime in, and once something is in Namjoon’s hands, it’s never yours again. It was like a repeat of your college years.
So when Ms. Davis asked you to fill in for Namjoon, you jumped at the chance because you had missed this story and this author, and you hoped Namjoon didn’t distort the beautiful story and world that she had built. You get why everyone fawns over Namjoon. Admitting it crushes your soul just a tad, but he’s smart, charming, suave, and not that bad to look at. You just wished he’d let you have a win now and again. You’re tired of being second best.
When you hear a beep from the door, you sigh, throwing your head back. You don’t acknowledge your roommate for the night and instead focus on the rain droplets hitting the window. Pulling your knees toward your chest, your arms rest on them along with your head as you stare outside. You’re not in the mood to deal with Namjoon right now.
A delectable aroma fills your nose when Namjoon’s presence occupies your space. He sets something next to your feet while on the couch. You look at the box and then at him.
“What’s this?”
“You need to eat.”
“I already ate,” you lie, and your stomach growled, loud enough you’re sure Namjoon heard it too. You make a face, clenching your stomach, hoping it doesn’t do it again.
“Just eat,” he says, bending down to grab the box for you.
“Is this your way of poisoning me, so you can do the presentation tomorrow?”
Namjoon scoffs. “No, actually. It’s me being a decent human being. I saw you at the bar, and I know how you are when you’re in work mode. You forget to eat.”
There’s a fire rising in your chest, and you want nothing more than to be left alone. “I didn’t think the devil had a heart,” you quip back. It’s easier when he isn’t, makes you feel less of an ass—and so much for not being in the mood to argue.
He tuts. “Why are you always like this? Even when we were in school together. You’ve always hated me.”
Maybe it’s how everything’s been handed to him on a silver platter–like how he doesn’t have to work his ass off just to get a sliver of recognition. Maybe it’s because he could be the good guy, but he chooses otherwise. Maybe it’s because somehow he always shows up wherever you are, ready to take things from you.
“I don’t have to explain myself to you.”
“Fine, starve. I don’t even know why I tried.”
You groaned. “Can you just go away? You’re so annoying.”
“Me? Annoying? You’ve had a stick up your ass ever since you saw me on the plane, and I haven’t done shit to you. I’m here out of courtesy for our boss. What am I supposed to do? Say no?”
“Yeah! You should’ve.”
Namjoon shakes his head. “God–there’s no winning with you, is there?”
You ignore his comment, shifting in your seat, eyes focused on the rain again.
His jaw clenched as he backed off. “I was trying to be nice–break the ice, but it’s useless when I keep hitting a wall with you. See you later. I need a drink.”
Your eyes squeeze shut when the door slams. Sometimes you wonder if you’re too harsh or if you channeled your hatred toward something else, if it would benefit you more. But this was the circus of you and Namjoon–mortal rivals, nothing less, nothing more.
It’s well past midnight when you illuminate your phone for the third time. You’ve been tossing and turning, panicking about tomorrow’s presentation. Maybe you’d have to forgo using a slideshow and go off your outline. Graphic design isn’t your passion anyway because Canva was your best friend for presentation templates.
You had prepared yourself for having to share a bed with Namjoon, but you can’t help but notice that he hasn’t returned from wherever he went. You wonder if this was it–if it was the final straw for him, with you and your bitchy attitude.
As you’re on your phone, going over your outline, a beep from the door alerts you that Namjoon is back. You quickly stuff your phone underneath your pillow, turning in the opposite direction with your back facing him.
“Yeah, mom. Don’t worry. I’ll be back.” His voice softens when he sees the lights are out.
An indistinct voice is heard from the other end, but you close your eyes, pretending to be fast asleep.
“Yes, I have it on my calendar and already asked for the days off. I’ll be back before your surgery.”
You feel bad listening in on his conversation and even worse when you realize his mother is having surgery.
Namjoon hums. “I love you too, Mom. I’ll see you next week. Mm–bye.”
He sets his phone down and cards his hand through his dark hair, but it softly falls back in place. You can hear him ruffling through his bag before he walks off to what you guess is the bathroom to wash up.
You turn over when there’s a sudden ache in your side. Your eyes open to see the light shining from underneath the door, and he’s pacing around as he brushes his teeth.
When the water shuts off, he opens the door, turning off the light. The darkened curtains eliminate all light sources in the room, save for the bit peeking through from the moonlight shining on him, revealing his broad shoulders and honey-skin chest. Thank god it’s dark, otherwise if Namjoon saw you ogling him, he’d have a field day. But the gawking ends when he slips on a shirt.
You shift back to the side that’s still aching and Namjoon slips under the cover, keeping his distance. You’re facing away from him, and you can’t help but hear the frustration when he huffs a breath.
Of course, the stupid ache doesn’t dissipate, and you’re back on your side, facing Namjoon. You peek an eye open. His phone is dimly lit before he turns it off, setting it on his chest. Both of his hands are laced behind his head as he stares at the ceiling, and you’re fighting the urge to say something.
What you overheard was personal, something you weren’t meant to hear. After all these years of being academic rivals and co-workers, you knew little about his life except that he was a trust fund baby and had a younger sister.
“Namjoon?” You quietly croak out.
He quickly gazes in your direction. “Sorry—did I wake you? I didn’t mean to.”
“No, I couldn’t sleep, and then I heard you come in.”
A muttered apology escapes his lips along with ‘Night,’ as he turns on his side, facing away from you.
His demeanor is different, almost as if he’s let down his guard. You’ve never seen him distraught before.
“Namjoon?”
He hums but doesn’t turn around to face you.
“Is everything okay with your mom?”
Namjoon clears his throat. “Yeah, she’s okay. At least, I hope so.”
You’re nibbling on your bottom lip. “I couldn’t help but overhear she’s having surgery?”
“Oh—yeah, we, um, recently found out she has breast cancer and has to have a mastectomy.”
“Joon,” you utter. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay? How are you feeling?”
“Yeah, yeah,” he stammers, shifting himself into a more comfortable position. “Everything happened so fast, and I feel like I haven’t had time to process my thoughts. I’m trying my best to stay strong, you know?”
You place your hand under your cheek as you’re staring at his backside. The two of you stay silent for a moment.
“I get that,” you say, lying on your back, bringing the duvet to cover you. “Um, my mom also went through breast cancer a few years ago, if it’s any consolation, I suppose breast cancer is one of the better ones to have? If that’s such a thing—I mean, there’s a lot of research that’s gone into it, and there’s so much support out there if she wants it. So, um, yeah, just keep your head up. Your mom will be okay.”
Namjoon mumbles, “Thanks. I appreciate it.”
He doesn’t turn to you, and you don’t blame him. You have been a bit of an ass to him, but you’re not made of stone—there’s a heart buried somewhere inside.
Flipping on your side, your backs are facing one another, and you hear a sniffle. Immediately, you turn back, hesitant about being in this position. In the time you’ve known Namjoon, he’s never cried in front of you. There are more sniffles, and you can hear him holding back whatever’s caught in his throat.
Your heart’s racing, your breath is slow and controlled. You shift closer to him, removing the pillow you had placed in the middle to separate the two of you.
“Joon?”
He wipes his nose and clears his throat. “Yeah?”
“Would it be okay if I hugged you?”
Namjoon hums in agreement, and you take it upon yourself to inch closer to him. Somehow he seems so much smaller when you’re this close. You snake your arm underneath him, wrapping it around his waist, pressing your body against his. It takes a moment for him to register what’s happening, and then his hand finds yours, entwining them together.
You’ve been where he has and any kind of surgery is scary, especially when it’s a loved one. Your mind can only wander to the worst-case scenarios.
Your bodies are in sync as you can feel his chest rise and fall. But his breath is ragged and shaky. You suppose he’s fighting off any tears threatening to fall.
“You can tell me to fuck off.”
He chuckles. “No, I like this. It feels nice.”
Your mind finally settled during the night, and you could fall asleep. Namjoon’s snores were your alarm clock this morning. The weight of his arm draped over your waist. It was a familiar feeling—just like the day after you had slept with him. Only this time, all your clothes were on, and there was no accompanying headache.
Peering over your shoulder, he was still fast asleep, so this was your chance to sneak away. You were hoping to go over your presentation a few more times before your meeting today with the publisher. But as soon, as you decide to slip away, a buzzing from Namjoon’s side causes you to close your eyes and pretend like you weren’t trying to get up.
It buzzes a few times before Namjoon stirs awake, fumbling around to find his phone. “Hello?” he says in a groggy, raspy voice.
You shift away from him, snuggling underneath the duvet. The conversation is indistinct, and you can’t hear anything but Namjoon’s responses.
“Wait—” Namjoon sits up, turning away from you, his feet planted on the ground. “You want me to do what?”
He’s frustrated by whatever he was told.
“No, I can’t do that to her.” He quickly peers in your direction, and he sees you fast asleep. The voice on the other line continues along with Namjoon’s frustration. He’s rubbing his temple and sighs. “Please don’t make me do this. She already hates me as is.”
You can’t help but wonder who’s on the other line and who the ‘she’ is.
Namjoon shakes his head, and his voice quiets down. “She’s been working so hard on this presentation. I can’t just take this from her.”
Your heart sinks when you realize he’s talking about you. There’s no one else doing a presentation, and Namjoon was working with this author before they were handed back to you.
“Okay, okay. I’ll let her know,” he said dejectedly. Namjoon doesn’t even say goodbye. He’s crouched over, elbows on his knees as his head hangs low.
The soft chimes of your alarm go off. You wait a few seconds before reaching for your phone to silence it. Sitting up, you glance over at Namjoon who’s looking right at you.
“Morning. I hope I didn’t wake you.”
“No, my alarm woke me up,” you say before flipping the duvet over. You stand, smoothing down your hair. “Big presentation today. I should get ready for the day.”
You’re ready to run to the bathroom, but Namjoon stops you. “Um, about that.”
Slowly, you turn to him. “What about it?”
Namjoon’s hands are entwined, and his thumbs fiddled out of nervousness. “Ms. Davis called and wants me to do the presentation.”
You suck in your lower lip, gently chewing on it. “But I worked on it like a madwoman last night. Why would Ms. Davis ask me to do it and then go back to asking you?”
A buzzing from your phone interrupts you. The screen flashes ‘Ms. Davis.’ You peer at Namjoon, then answer the phone. “Hello? Ms. Davis?”
“Good morning, ____. I hope you slept well.”
You hum in response.
“I know I asked you to go to New York, but now that Namjoon is there. I think it’ll be better if he does the presentation. He just has a way with words, and I think he’ll be able to land this deal, don’t you think?”
Namjoon avoids your gaze by scrolling on his phone. You remember Namjoon’s words from the day before, ‘What Ms. Davis wants, Ms. Davis gets.’
You take a moment before responding. “Why yes, Ms. Davis, I agree. Namjoon would be perfect for this presentation.”
She continues about supporting him in whatever way he needs today, and you’re seething like a teakettle that’s ready to burst. You agree with everything she says.
“Mmhm, yes. I’ll make sure he has everything he needs.”
You bid her a chipper farewell before hanging up. Your phone’s clenched in your hand, and your chest is heaving. Thoughts are running rampant—you’re ready to quit on the spot.
Licking your lips, you look at Namjoon. “Well, good luck with your presentation today. Don’t ruin it for our author and Ms. Davis.”
Namjoon shakes his head. “No–you worked hard on it. You should do it.”
You scoff. “Don’t act like you don’t want to take this from me, Joon. It’s what you’re good at. You always get your way—just like when we were in school and now even at work. No matter how hard I work for everything, you’re there to reap the reward.”
His jaw clenches. He stands, walking to you. “You’re so fucking exhausting,” he spits out. “You think I’m some guy who’s out to get you or wants the worst for you–it’s like whatever preconceived notion you’ve fabricated has overlooked the fact that I’m a pretty decent guy if you could get past whatever thing that I’ve done to tick you off.” He sighs. “I’m telling you to do the presentation, but here you are blaming me.”
The warmth from his body is scorching as he nears you–it matches the energy firing inside you. Here he is, allowing you to shoot your shot, but you’re stubborn and temperamental.
Your gaze pierces through him. “Do whatever you want, Joon. I quit.”
Quickly, you gather your things, stuffing them into your carry-on. You know how ridiculous it sounds, but Kim Namjoon tends to bring out your foolishness. You’ve had seven years of him right by your side, which was too many for you. Maybe it was time to find a private island with no form of communication to escape him.
Namjoon doesn’t stop you, he lets you leave. He knows how strong-willed you are and once you’ve decided, there’s no changing it.
You wash up in the hotel lobby’s restroom, rushing off to nowhere because well–you had quit and home was two hours away by flight and it wasn’t leaving until tonight.
Cars and buses screech to a halt along with the sounds of never-ending honking. Chattering from tourists and bicyclists whiz by your side. There’s never a dull moment so you can get your head on straight.
A buzzing from your bag goes unnoticed because you’re too busy figuring out the next steps. You don’t know what you’re doing. Quitting, so suddenly? Was it out of spite? If you couldn’t even handle Namjoon, how would you handle the next prick that came along?
You held your arm out, trying to hail a cab, but no one stopped. Well, it was probably the worst time to grab one, anyway. Checking your phone, you noticed a missed call and a voicemail, and it wasn’t from anyone you were expecting.
It was from Noa Skye, the author you were trying to get published.
“Hey ____. I know I’ve been working with Namjoon for the last several months, but when I heard that you’re doing the meeting with HarperCollins instead, I screamed! I know you’ll be able to pitch my book well because you love this story as much as I do. So, yeah, I just wanted to call and wish you good luck. You’re going to do great. Talk to you soon!”
Your heart sank to your stomach when you heard Noa’s voicemail. It was true–you loved her story, and you wanted the entire world to read it so they could laugh and cry along with you. Her book deserved to be on bookshelves and New York’s best-seller list.
Should you buck up the courage and walk in with your head held high? And for once, maybe Namjoon was right–that you were looking for someone to blame and he was conveniently the scapegoat.
Noa deserved better than this ongoing battle between you and Namjoon; maybe more you than him–but regardless, you needed to set aside your ego for the sake of your author.
Huffing out a deep breath, you pulled your hair back, ready to fight for this presentation.
Namjoon was typing furiously, looking through his previous notes on Noa’s novel. He wished he had spoken to you about what you had outlined to get a better grasp. You and Noa had been working on her novel for a couple of months before Namjoon came into the picture. Surely, he knew how to charm the pants off publishers, but sometimes he felt like you captured the heart of these stories better than he did.
You’re jabbing the number seven several times, encouraging the elevator doors to close. Looking at your phone, there’s half an hour before the presentation. You hoped it was enough time to sort things out with Namjoon and go over your outline.
Turning the corner, you find Namjoon sitting with a laptop. He looks up, almost relieved when he sees you, but of course, he doesn’t make it known.
“Thought you quit,” he says when you’re near.
You flash a thin smile, sitting beside him. “I never waste a moment where I can rescue you, because it looks like you need my help.” A glimpse of a nearly empty page proves your point.
In normal Namjoon fashion, he’s ready to bite back, but he holds his tongue. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”
You scoff, rolling your eyes. “You can say ‘thanks’ and I’ll call it even.” He mumbles something indistinct and you cup your hand up to your ear. “I’m sorry. I can’t hear you over the sound of your ego.”
His shoulders slump, and he cocks his head. “Thanks, ___. I owe you one.”
Wiggling in your chair, you’re smiling proudly because this is the first genuine show of gratitude from Kim Namjoon.
“Here’s what I have. Can you tell me what you and Noa have been working on?”
Even without visuals, you felt the presentation went well and did Noa justice with her novel. Namjoon was another surprise. He didn’t interrupt, waited until you finished before adding in his two cents.
Although the presentation and trip to New York were short and sweet, it was eye-opening for you because you had been toying with the idea of opening up a literary agency. The sound of being your own boss sounded lovely.
“We did good, huh?” Namjoon says as he stands beside you.
“We?” You quirk an eyebrow.
He tilts his head. “You. You did a good job.”
You stand proud outside of the hotel’s driveway as the two of you wait for an Uber. “I know. I always save the day.”
Namjoon chuckles. “Well, have a good flight back home.”
Whipping your head back to him, your brows stitched in confusion. “Are you not going back to Chicago?”
He shakes his head. “My mom’s surgery got moved up, so I’m flying straight to Seoul. I’ll be back in Chicago in two weeks.”
“Oh,” you mumble. “I hope everything goes well.”
“Thanks,” he flashes a small smile. A car pulls up to him. “Looks like my ride's here. I’ll see you.”
Namjoon grabs his carry-on, ready to leave, but you stop him. “Joon–” He turns back around. “I’m sorry about what happened this morning. You’re right. I haven’t treated you nicely and have blamed you for a lot of things over the years, and it’s no one’s fault, but my own. I hope things go well with your mom, and if you ever need anyone to talk to, you can call me.”
He lets out a soft chuckle. “Call you, hmm?”
“You know what I mean.”
“I don’t, actually.”
“Just–” you groan. “You know what? Never mind. I don’t even know why I tried.”
Namjoon lets go of his carry-on and walks back to you. “I’m messing with you.” He chuckles lowly, taking another step closer to you. He lifts your chin with his forefinger, his dragon eyes gazing into yours. “It’s our thing, isn’t it? You hate me, I hate you. We find some kind of common ground, then fall in love. Isn’t that in all the books we read?”
You lick your lips and nod, pointing to yourself. “Me? Fall in love with you? Don’t push your luck, Joon.”
read 'under the mistletoe' (a don't push your luck drabble)
#namjoon fanfic#namjoon fic#rm fic#rm fanfic#namjoon imagine#namjoon scenario#bts fanfic#bts fic#bts x you#fic: don’t push your luck
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Water (Patreon Exclusive)
pairing; yoon jeonghan x f reader
genre; smut (minors dni), angst, fluff/romance, crack
summary; being friends with benefits with jeonghan has never been what you thought it would but taking a trip to Paris with him and the rest of your friends while expecting to keep it a secret...that's something completely different.
warnings; eating/drinking, alcohol, mentions flying in a plane, inaccurate french, a bit of self deprecating thoughts and feelings, hiding a relationship, idiots in love, oral (f receiving), fingering, jealousy, crying (from pleasure and not), petnames, unprotected sex, cum on skin/creampie -- as always there might be a warning I am missing but do try.
w/c; 19k and some change (1.2k this teaser)
a/n; as always I have to thank @onlyhuis for not only proofreading but also helping me with coming up with so many brilliant ideas. I also want to thank @wooahaeproductions for lending me her brilliant brain and offering so many beautiful ideas.
this fic is a Patreon Exclusive subscribe to my Patreon and click here
“I’ll try not to slobber on your shoulder.”
You roll your eyes with a faint laugh at Mingyu’s words as he sits on your right in the aisle seat. The “fasten seatbelt” sign had just turned off and a quick glance at your phone told you that the plane had been in the air for about an hour. It was going to be a long 13 hour flight to Paris and while Mingyu was settling in to take a nap, you weren’t sure you were going to be following suit.
Jeonghan purses his lips, watching you shift in your seat. You looked restless and he understood the feeling. While he felt like he could get up and take a walk along the aisle, beside him, Dokyeom was snuggled up against the window, watching a movie on the screen in front of him.
Slipping out of his seat, Jeonghan leans to bump his hip against Mingyu, only to make the man groan, opening his eyes in annoyance. You were looking up at your friend curiously, your brows furrowed as he pursed his lips and jutted his thumb back over to where he had been sitting just a moment before.
“Trade with me.”
Confusion slowly spreads across Mingyu’s face as he looks from Jeonghan to you and back up at the other man. Lifting his brows, Jeonghan sighs and waves his hands as if trying to hurry Mingyu out of his seat, as if he were in the wrong spot, when clearly Mingyu had known he was supposed to sit beside you.
“What? You serious?”
“The fuck, you mean, am I serious? I’m talking, aren’t I?” Letting out another sigh, Jeonghan gestures towards Dokyeom once again.” Gyu…Go sit beside Dokyeom and cuddle with him. Clearly, you both want to sleep and Y/N isn’t going to. I want someone to talk to.”
Groaning, Mingyu looks back at you as you give him a soft, pouty smile, reaching up to pat his cheek as he begrudgingly gives up his spot to Jeonghan. Sliding past the smaller man, Mingyu narrows his eyes at him, only to get a smirk in return as Jeonghan slips into the seat with a happy sigh.
Dokyeom glances over to Mingyu as he slumps down in the seat, pulling his blanket over his legs, as he watches Jeonghan look over at you with a grin on his face. There was something weird about what had just happened but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Shrugging, Mingyu glances towards the movie playing in front of Dokyeom as he leans his head to rest it on his friend’s shoulder, watching it on mute as his eyes get heavy.
“Jeonghan…You are so full of shit.”
Your words draw Jeonghan’s attention as he adjusts his seat, leaning it back to get more comfortable beside you. It was going to be a long ass flight but his traveling companion had just gotten exponentially more attractive.
“Why? Did I lie?”
Rolling your eyes, you glance away from Jeonghan and out of the window as he smiles at you. Yoon Jeonghan was one of your best friends. When the idea of going on this group trip to Paris came up, you weren’t sure if you wanted to go but it had been him who had talked you into it. There were plenty of reasons not to go but in his opinion, there were even more reasons to go.
Your relationship with Jeonghan was complicated. It hadn’t started out that way. You had met him along with the rest of your friends in college. All of you were studying different things but at the end of the day, it was your personalities that had led you all together.
Kim Mingyu had been the first friend that you had made and your gateway into the group. Many others had come and gone but by the end of four grueling years at university, there were fourteen of you that had stuck together and now ten of you are on a plane for a once in a lifetime vacation.
When you don’t answer him right away, Jeonghan lets his eyes run along your neck and up to your pretty face. He had always had a harder time than some of the others when it came to keeping it platonic with you. Then, last Halloween, Jeonghan found out he wasn’t the only one struggling with that feeling.
Maybe it had been the alcohol or maybe it had been all of the tension in the air but in a dark corner of Seungcheol’s apartment, you and Jeonghan had shared your first heated kiss. That kiss had turned into a long conversation the next day, which led to an even longer discussion about how neither one of you wanted to fuck up your friendship.
“We will just have rules, Y/N.”
You had sighed as Jeonghan had run his fingers along your jaw, tilting your head up so he could look at your face as he spoke. You hadn’t wanted to agree to the idea of being friends with benefits but the ache between your thighs every time you looked at him had been enough to keep you listening and to make your lips part as he had ran his thumb under your bottom lip.
“If either one of us wants to stop, we just say it. No deep conversations have to happen. My only rule is that if you are going to fuck someone else, tell me. I don’t want to be second best.”
Jeonghan had listened to you whining softly under your breath as his fingernails scratched along the side of your head at your hairline. He had known you wanted it as much as he did but what he didn’t know was that it was going to hurt you just as much as it was already hurting him. It seemed like such a simple solution to how he was feeling. He would get to have you in his life even more. He would get to fuck you as much as possible, but then you’d leave every single fucking time and it would start to hurt every single fucking time.
Turning back towards Jeonghan as you feel his eyes moving along your skin, you fight the urge to move closer to him in your seat. You weren’t alone on the plane and your friends weren’t that far from you, with Mingyu and Dokyeom sitting diagonally across the aisle and Jihoon and Joshua behind you.
“You could have kept Dokyeom awake to talk.”
Smirking, Jeonghan purses his lips as he moves to lean across you, pulling down the shade on the window, leaving you and him both veiled in the low light of the cabin. You sigh as you feel his fingers slide along your forearm to your wrist, his fingernails causing chillbumps to spread along your skin as he draws small circles on your skin.
“I don’t want to talk to Dokyeom, I want to talk to you.”
Sighing softly, you glance down at your hand as Jeonghan runs his fingers along yours before linking his hand with yours. You knew the light was dim enough that no one would see and that if anyone did, they probably wouldn’t ask too many questions because Jeonghan was just a touchy guy to begin with. What you didn’t know was why your heart was in your throat. You didn’t know why your friend with benefits even wanted to hold your hand in the first place.
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#jeonghan smut#seventeen smut#svthub#svt smut#jeonghan angst#seventeen angst#svt angst#jeonghan x reader#seventeen fluff#seventeen x reader#svt x reader#svt fluff
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