#that's.. yeah sure that's one way of doing it. i guess

[smileysuh]

apartment complex

🌙 starring. Johnny Suh x afab!Reader I ft. Haechan & Jaehyun

🔮 preview. So… Johnny works on a rig for long periods of time, Jaehyun is a gym rat with dimples, and Hyuck is a… drug dealer who’s not afraid to be extremely direct and combative? And they’re all your neighbours and also into you? How did you get yourself into this mess? 

tw/cw. Unprotected sex, pent-up sexual tension, shower sex, masturbation, fingering, hand job, thigh riding, praise, dirty talk, breast worship/nipple play, big dick Johnny, pussy stretching, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, multiple reader orgasms, multiple sex positions, size kink (Johnny is big and a slight manhandler), mentions of aftercare, etc… I pet names: (hers) 304, baby, princess. 

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 13.3k

🍭 aus. Love square, slice of life, neighbours to lovers, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. So when Johnny calls her the nickname ‘304,’ we’re not doing full numbers, it’s ‘three-oh-four’ which I actually think is kind of cute haha 

One:

You feel like an absolute mess. Your hair is all over the place, you’re in a full sweats ensemble that is - true to its name - making you perspire like nothing else as you lug boxes upon boxes of your stuff into your building and up to your new apartment.

To make matters worse, you’re exhausted. Moving days have this absolutely draining effect, and you can’t wait for the day to be over. You’re not even sure if you’ll unpack anything- maybe you’ll just fish out a towel and some body wash from one of the many crates you have, shower, then collapse onto your mattress- do you even have the energy to set up your bed frame?

You’re busy trying to plan out how you’re going to even accomplish the day, when the elevator doors open, and you find yourself staring up at one of the hottest men you’ve ever seen.

“Hi,” he grins, stepping next to you in the small space. “Moving in?”

You’re so distracted by the way his biceps look in his muscle shirt that it takes you a moment to speak. “Uh, yeah.”

“I’m Johnny,” he tells you.

“y/n.” The box in your hands is beginning to slip from the sweat on your palms, and you haphazardly readjust it on your hip.

“This might be a little forward,” Johnny chuckles, “but do you need any help?”

“Uh…” You turn once again to look up at this absolute tower of a man. “I’m almost done moving everything-”

“Let me guess, boxes done, just some furniture stuff left?”

You feel your skin flush with heat. “Is it that obvious that I’m struggling right now?” An awkward laugh escapes your lips, and you’re happy to find Johnny return the sound with a soft, understanding smile.

“Usually when cute girls move somewhere, they have a boyfriend, a brother, a dad, a friend- someone to help them do the tough stuff, and since you’re alone, I’m guessing you’re troopering this whole thing out all by yourself.”

“New city,” you explain. “I don’t uh- don’t know anyone here just yet, and my family didn’t want to take time off work to help with any of this.”

“Lucky you bumped into me then,” Johnny grins. “I just finished up at the gym, but I’ve got energy to help a new neighbour.”

The elevator dings to signal you’ve made it to your floor, and Johnny follows you out.

“You’re the new tenant for 304?” he asks.

“Uh huh,” you nod, stopping in front of the unit you now call home.

“We really are neighbours,” Johnny laughs. “I’m 306.”

“Look it was nice to meet you,” you say, “but you really don’t need to help, I’m sure I can manage my bed and a few other things-”

“y/n,” Johnny interrupts you, “I promise I’m not some creep, just a good neighbour offering help. You look tired, let me help you.”

Your pride makes it difficult to accept this sort of thing, but you swallow it, offering Johnny a nod. 

And that’s how you find yourself moving your bed and the last bit of furniture into your new apartment with one of the sexiest guys you’ve ever seen. He’s quite the charmer, and he’s reassuring too- calming you down when things are a little heavy, and slowing his own pace to match your exhaustion.

In no time at all, everything is out of the moving truck, and Johnny leans in your doorway as he watches you slump into a chair. 

“Do you want help making your bedframe or anything?” he enquires.

“Honestly? I think I’m going to call it a day,” you admit. “The drive here was long, I’ve been up since five AM, didn’t sleep well last night due to nerves-”

“Sounds like you should get some rest,” Johnny nods.

“I really appreciate your help though,” you offer. “I’ll uh, have to buy you beers or something.”

Johnny only laughs. “That’s not necessary. Besides, I work on a rig, so I’m only here a week or so every month, you caught me at a good time.”

“Oh.” You can’t help the disappointment that surges through you. Of course this man was too hot to be true- of course he has a job that requires him to be away for long periods or he’d probably have an equally hot girlfriend already.

“But… let me give you my number, and if you ever need anything while I am here, you can just give me a shout.” 

The two of you exchange digits, and with one final smile, Johnny leaves you be. 

You lay on your bed for a while, trying to calm down- from the moving, or from being around a ten out of ten, you’re not sure. 

Two:

It’s your first time doing laundry in the new building, and to your disappointment, you find the shared laundry room to have no available machines.

A sigh escapes you as you stand there momentarily, wondering if you should wait five minutes for a turn over, or just scratch this whole idea and hope there are empty machines tomorrow.

As you’re considering your options, the laundry room door opens, and a tall blonde enters.

“Hi,” he beams.

“Hello.” You watch him carefully, noticing that he heads to a machine to take out his clothes from the washer. “Uh- do you mind if I put my stuff in there once it’s empty?”

“Of course not,” he smiles. “With only six machines for the whole building, it can be a bit rough trying to nab one on busy days.”

“I’ve noticed,” you laugh. “I’m new here, my name is y/n.”

“I’m Jungwoo,” he tells you, moving his clothing into the only empty dryer. He turns on the machine and then steps back, looking over at you again. “So are you new to the building or new to the city?”

“The city,” you admit, beginning to move your stuff into the now empty washer.

“You have that look.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just- a lot of people here are boring, we’re not exactly known for fashion or anything like that-”

You look down at the Stitch onesie you’re wearing that you’d bought for Halloween a few years back but has since become a comfort outfit, then back up at the blonde.

“I just like your style!” he insists. “Not everyone can rock blue pajamas!”

You find yourself laughing at his sincerity, shaking your head as you grab your washer fluid to get the machine going.

“Anyways,” Jungwoo sighs. “Did you move here for work?”

“I actually work online,” you tell him. “I can work from anywhere, and I figured this would be a nice place to get out of the big city for a while- cheaper rent, more nature, that sort of thing.”

“Makes sense,” Jungwoo nods. “I’m a server at a bar just down the road.”

You take a moment, then laugh. “You seem like a server.”

“Because I’m so cute and social?” he grins.

“Definitely,” you nod, enjoying his energy.

“Anyways, I love making friends, and since you’re new to the city, I’m guessing you haven’t met a lot of people yet. If you want to be friends, I’d love to add you to my gossip roster.”

“Your gossip roster?”

“I’m a server, which means I love all things tea- except for when grandmas order actual tea in the middle of a rush, that’s the worst.”

“I’ll take your word on it,” you grin.

“So… friends?” Jungwoo asks.

You nod. “We can be friends.”

Three:

It’s been three weeks since you moved into your new apartment, and in that time, you’ve gotten settled, and even visited Jungwoo at his bar. He’s an interesting friend, and he seems to know everything about everyone.

At first, you’d been worried about any ulterior motives he might have, as you’ve experienced many men try to make a move on you under the guise of just wanting to be your friend. But now, you realize Jungwoo’s intentions towards you are pure- or, as pure as they can be given how much gossip he consumes.

You get the sense that you’re not his type, and that’s a hundred percent okay with you, in fact, it’s a dynamic that makes you finally feel comfortable accepting an invitation to visit his apartment.

It seems all the attractive men in your building live on your floor, and as you enter his unit, you find yet another cute man standing in the kitchen.

“This is Mark,” Jungwoo introduces you. “Mark, this is y/n. Don’t worry, Lee, I’ve told her everything about you.”

“Oh, great,” Mark sighs.

It’s true, Jungwoo has divulged way too deep into his roommate’s history. You know that he’s a content creator and chef, he used to work in a prestigious restaurant, went on one of those reality cooking shows, managed to be the runner up for the first place prize despite his awkward nature, and has now been commissioned to write a cookbook focused solely on burgers (which Jungwoo has assured you is actually a broad topic despite what you might think).

You also know that Mark has a limited dating history, with a high school sweetheart who left him right before his stint on live tv, and a new crush on some barista that he’s too shy to even talk to despite the fact that he goes to her coffee shop every day just to order frothed milk with vanilla since caffeine doesn’t agree with him.

“So what’s on the menu tonight, chef?” Jungwoo asks, coming to stand right behind Mark in the kitchen.

From the way Mark clears his throat and steps back, it’s obvious to you that he’s not as comfortable about being close to people as Jungwoo is, and you find yourself enjoying this roommate dynamic already.

“I’m actually testing some stupid protein burger for muscle heads,” Mark admits.

“Aren’t burgers already high in protein since they’re meat?” you ask.

“Yes, and no,” Mark groans, “it depends. I want to have a few vegetarian and even vegan options in the cookbook I’m writing on burgers- and lots of people want high protein even in their plant based meals.” 

“So… what are your options for this burger you’re trying to create?” you enquire. 

“I’ve tried some black bean patties, chickpea patties, that sort of thing- but I’m considering making an entire two page fold dedicated to dredges and batters that you could use on a variety of burgers, meat or vegetarian. I got everything to make a protein powder infused batter, but I’m just now realizing that the protein powder I have on hand is chocolate flavoured, which really won’t work if I put it on anything, let alone a tofu burger.”

“Call Jae,” Jungwoo says simply. “That man has a collection of protein powder that would make a man on steroids combust.”

“Maybe I should just run to the store,” Mark sighs.

“You only need a small scoop of powder, right?” Jungwoo counters. “Why would you go buy an entire plain jug of protein powder when a protein head lives next door?”

“I’d hate to bother him,” the chef groans again, and you find yourself starting to realize the true depth of his social anxiety. 

“I’ll call Jaehyun,” Jungwoo states, pulling out his phone.

You take a seat at the island counter while Jungwoo makes a deal for some powder with this ‘Jae’ person, and you watch Mark fuss over other ingredients that he adds to a dry mixing bowl.

There’s a knock at the door, and then a man peaks his head inside of the apartment.

Your eyes lock and the wind is knocked from your lungs- is every hot man in the city living in your building?

“Jae!” Jungwoo yells, “come in!”

The man steps into the apartment, offering a smile, and the dimples in his cheeks practically blind you. There’s no way around it, this man looks like a model. He’s handsome, but there’s a slightly feminine softness to the angles of his face, a warmth in his eyes, and it’s absolutely captivating.

“Am I interrupting?” Jae asks as he approaches the kitchen, his eyes continuously meeting your own.

“Not at all, Mark’s just floundering as usual, and I’m hanging out with my new friend. y/n, this is Jaehyun, Jaehyun, this is y/n.” 

“Nice to meet you,” you smile.

“You too.” Jaehyun sets a tub of protein powder onto the kitchen counter next to Mark, then he turns his full attention to you again. “So how did you meet Jungwoo?”

“In the laundry room,” Jungwoo is quick to explain, and you don’t miss the exchange of glances between Jaehyun and your friend. “She’s new to the building.” Jungwoo practically winks at Jaehyun, and you get the suspicion that he’s trying to set you up with this model looking protein man.

“I love meeting new neighbours,” Jaehyun says smoothly. “What floor are you on?”

“This one, room 304.”

“No way.” Jaehyun’s eyes widen. “That’s right across from mine!”

“You’re 305?” you ask, heart beating faster in your chest.

“In the flesh,” Jaehyun grins.

“Can we move the talking somewhere else?” Mark asks quietly. “I’m trying to concentrate.”

The energy fizzles immediately, and Jaehyun nods. “I was actually just heading to the gym.”

“Of course you were,” Jungwoo rolls his eyes.

“But uh, I’ll see you around,” Jaehyun says, looking at you directly. “Welcome to the building.” 

Four:

You suppose you shouldn’t be shocked when meeting cute men in your apartment building anymore, but you still find your breath leaving your body when you’re bringing groceries up from the parking garage only for a very cute man to enter the elevator.

He steps in and flashes you a smirk, then looks at the floor buttons. “You’re headed to three?” he asks.

“Uh huh.”

“Are you new?”

“Been here about a month.”

“Huh,” the man looks stumped for a moment. “I feel like I would have seen you. I’m Hyuck by the way.”

“y/n.”

Hyuck nods. “Are you liking the building?”

“It’s nice,” you muse, too tired from your day at the grocery store to make much smalltalk. 

“You must be… unit 304? I’m a couple of doors down, near the corner. I know someone moved out, and I heard from the building manager that someone was moving in, but fuck, I can’t believe I haven’t met you yet.”

“I can be kind of reclusive,” you joke. “I mean, I work from home.”

“Ahhh, you’re one of those girls.” Hyuck grins at you knowingly and your heart leaps into your throat.

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” he shrugs. “Just, you know, sometimes the cutest girls are the ones that stay in their house all day.”

“Oh.” You’re really not sure how to respond to his statement, and your eyes shift down to the floor as the elevator comes to a stop.

The two of you both turn to the left, and Hyuck walks in step with you to your door, where he stops. “What’s that?”

You’re confused for a moment, too busy fumbling with your keys, but when you look up, you realize there’s a sticky note on your door. 

“Looks like you already have an admirer,” Hyuck grins. “Was nice to meet you, we should hang sometime,” he reads. “Who do you think left this?”

You’re pretty sure it was Jaehyun who left the note- after all, the only other people you know are Jungwoo and Johnny, who both have your number, and you doubt Mark Lee of all people would be this forward. 

“I uh-” you stutter a little, swallowing thickly. “I’m not sure.”

“So are you single, or…?”

“Definitely single,” you blurt out, pushing your key into the door and clicking it unlocked.

“Definitely single,” Hyuck repeats as you push into your apartment, “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

Five:

You’re finishing up after dinner when your phone makes a beeping sound, and you quickly pick it up, surprised to see a message from Johnny.

‘Looks like you’ve got some secret admirers, 304.’

Your stomach drops, and you realize that in your haste to enter your apartment after finding Jaehyun’s note with Hyuck earlier, you hadn’t actually removed it from your door- but wait, admirers? As in… plural? 

Tripping over yourself to get to the door, you throw it open to find not one sticky note, but two.

While Jaehyun’s initial ‘Was nice to meet you, we should hang sometime’ is still there, someone has taken the liberty to put a second note on top of it, and this one reads; ‘I’m more fun, let’s have drinks.’

It’s clear who the second note is from, and you’re quick to rip both off of your door. 

Jaehyun and Hyuck are both quite forward, and your heart is racing as you go sit on your couch, feeling conflicted.

You pull out your phone again, releasing a deep sigh as you write up a text to Johnny. ‘This apartment building is so weird.’

‘Boys will be boys,’ comes his quick response. 

Taking another breath to calm yourself, you look at the texts, and that’s when you realize, ‘I didn’t know you were back from the rigs.’ 

‘Got back a couple of days ago :)’ 

Tapping your fingers against your couch, you try to figure out how you should play this.

You’re most attracted to Johnny, but now that Jaehyun and Hyuck are so clearly demonstrating their blooming affection for you - out in the open where everyone on your floor can see - you wonder if that might throw a wrench at Johnny’s own feelings for you…

Does Johnny like you?

When he’d helped you move your things, was that just him genuinely being nice? 

You feel absolutely twisted, especially since you’ve never considered yourself the type of girl to entertain a long distance relationship…

‘So… you’re in town for a few more days?’

‘three!’ 

You definitely need to sort out your priorities. 

Six:

You’re in need of a drink as you walk into Jungwoo’s work, taking a seat at the bar and releasing a deep sigh.

“For a girl who came to happy hour, you don’t look too happy,” Jungwoo muses as he moves to stand in front of you.

“Is it that obvious?” you laugh.

“I mean… you’re the hot new girl in 304 who has two guys fighting over you in sticky notes, I’d expect you to be a little more up beat.” 

“You saw that?” you ask in shock.

“Everyone saw it. Whoever left those notes weren’t exactly subtle… who did leave those notes, by the way?”

You let out a laugh, shaking your head at your friend’s need for gossip. “You know one of them at least.”

“Jae, I’m guessing,” Jungwoo nods. “He asked me for your number but since I’m your friend I’m not just out here handing around your personal information.”

“I appreciate that.”

“And guy number two?” he enquires.

“Some dude named Hyuck.”

An interesting expression immediately appears on Jungwoo’s face. It’s something between an ‘oooooh!’ and an ‘ooop!’ and you can’t quite place the emotion.

“What?” you ask, leaning forward. “You know him?”

“Everyone knows Hyuck.”

“They do?”

“Let’s just say…” Jungwoo’s voice lowers as he leans over the bar, “he’s a provider of things that a lot of people like to get their hands on.”

“Huh?” 

“A plug, there, you tortured it out of me, Hyuck is a plug,” Jungwoo throws his hands up as if you just twisted his arm for the information, and you stare at him blankly.

“A plug,” you repeat.

“You can’t be that innocent, babes, you know what I mean.”

You sit back in your chair, thinking it through.

So… Johnny works on a rig for long periods of time, Jaehyun is a gym rat with dimples, and Hyuck is a… drug dealer who’s not afraid to be extremely direct and combative? And they’re all your neighbours and also into you? How did you get yourself into this mess? 

“Where did you even meet Hyuck?” Jungwoo asks.

“In the elevator?”

“Why did that sound like a question?” your friend laughs.

“I don’t know! God, I’m just… overwhelmed.”

“There are worse things to be overwhelmed about, I mean… tax season is coming soon, and I don’t know how much fraud I should commit with my tips.” 

You can’t help but laugh at Jungwoo, and he’s succeeded in using humour to calm you down. 

He’s grinning at you, and he taps his hand onto the bar top. “Let me make you a drink, on me, but you’ll be paying me with gossip, deal?” 

“Deal.”

You trust Jungwoo to make you drinks by now, and he doesn’t ask what you want, he simply begins to mix a fruity concoction together. Soon, he’s setting it down in front of you and you’re taking a large gulp.

“So…” he grins. “Hyuck or Jae?”

“Are those my only options?”

Jungwoo’s eyes widen. “Spill the tea.”

“I just… I met this guy Johnny when I moved in-”

“Johnny as in super tall, blue collar, muscle man, Johnny?”

“Sounds like him,” you laugh.

“And you met him the first day you moved in?”

“He actually helped me with boxes and furniture.”

Jungwoo lets out a whistle. “Now I see why you’re overwhelmed.”

“I guess, I just don’t really know any of these guys too well. I’ve only met all of them once-”

“But you have a favourite,” Jungwoo interjects. “Johnny’s your favourite, despite his fucked up job.”

You sigh. “How could you tell?”

“I watch a lot of reality tv, in shows like Love is Blind or Singles Inferno sometimes a girl has multiple guys going for her, but the first one leaves a mark… it’s not always the case though, but it’s about that initial impact.” 

“Impact,” you repeat. “Johnny definitely made an impact… and he saw the notes from Hyuck and Jae.”

“Oooooh,” Jungwoo grins, “scandalous.” 

“But he works away for weeks at a time!”

“He’s here now,” Jungwoo points out. “So… go on a date with him, and sort out Hyuck and Jae after.”

“You think so?”

“What could be wrong about it?” Jungwoo shrugs. “Go on a date with Johnny, see how you feel- maybe he does something gross that turns you off and it makes life easier.”

“Or maybe he’s perfect and it makes things even worse,” you sigh.

“You never know until you try. Another thing from my dating shows is that no one wants to live with regrets, and I don’t think you do either.” 

Seven:

You’d taken Jungwoo’s advice, and after two drinks at the bar, you’re home, waiting for a knock that sounds on your door.

Taking a deep breath, you fix your outfit, approaching your entry way to find Johnny standing in the hall. He looks all tall and gorgeous, in a similar laid back muscle shirt and sweats combo to the one you’d first seen him in. His hair is a little messy and damp as if he’d just come out of a shower, and the smell of his piney bodywash has you going weak. 

“Hi,” he grins. 

“Hi,” you smile back. “Uh, come in.”

Johnny nods, stepping past the threshold. “Are you a shoes off in the house kind of girl?”

“Yes, please.”

You watch him kick off his runners before turning to you. “I’m a little confused.”

“You are?”

“I got your text that you wanted me to come over, and I half expected you needed help building some cabinet or something, but then I remembered you’ve been here a month already, so now I don’t really know what I’m doing here.”

“I told you I’d buy you a beer for helping me move my stuff, remember?” You let out an awkward chuckle. “I don’t have beer, but I did open a bottle of wine.”

“That works,” Johnny grins.

“Come, sit.” You move to your living area, taking a seat on the couch. Johnny joins you, and you note the way he immediately shifts his body to be facing you. He watches you pour him a glass, and you both notice your shaky hand as you pass it to him.

“How much have you been drinking, 304?”

“A bit.”

“Rough day?” he enquires with a smile.

“Just…” you let out a deep breath. “Not used to all the attention I’m getting here.”

“Yeah, your entourage.” Johnny sips his drink, still grinning as if this is the funniest thing in the world.

“Would you believe me if I told you I’m not the kind of person who loves getting a lot of attention?”

Johnny cocks his head to the side. “I think it’s hard for a girl who looks like you to avoid that sort of thing.”

God, he is into you, you can taste it- or maybe that’s the sweet notes of your wine. 

You don’t know what to say, but you feel a grin appear on your face, your eyes shifting down to your glass. “I don’t know about that.”

“Just an observation,” Johnny laughs. “So… what are you going to do about all of this?”

“I think…” you swallow thickly. “I think I’m doing something right now.”

“Yeah?”

You look up at him, smiling. “Yeah.”

Now it’s Johnny’s turn to be at a loss for words, and you get the sense that this isn’t something that happens very often to him.

“I’m sure you know what it’s like to get a lot of attention,” you offer.

Johnny shrugs. “I’m only in town a week every month, and when I’m here I spend most of my time at the gym or at home. I’ve never been a big party guy, I prefer cheap beer to bars, and I guess I’ve just accepted that a guy like me has to be single.”

“You have to be?” you enquire, cocking your head to the side in a bid to understand him better. 

“Most girls aren’t interested in starting anything with a man who works on a rig. I understand the guys who have girls before the job, and they stay after building a foundation, but it’s hard to work on the start of a relationship when you’re not around.”

“I suppose that makes sense,” you nod- in fact, it’s something you’ve considered to great length already. “If… if the right girl came along, would that be something you’re interested in exploring?”

Johnny lets out a deep breath. “That’s a good question.” 

You watch him sip his wine, giving him the space to consider it.

“I just… I wouldn’t want a girl to feel like she’s an afterthought, or a fuck buddy- and doing the work I do, I have to be focused. It’s day rate, it’s dangerous, sometimes the rigs are a couple hours away from camp, and that’s on top of a twelve hour shift-” He lets out another deep sigh. “I think it would take a very special, very loyal kind of girl to give me a chance.”

“And what would you say your type is?”

His eyes meet yours. “I love a cute girl next door.”

Your heart thumps in your chest. “Funny, I like a boy next door.”

“Then it’s a good thing we’re neighbours.”

Johnny lifts his glass and you clink yours together, giggling.

It’s crazy how things can feel so comfortable with him already- but in the background of your mind there’s a sense of dread looming, after all, he’s leaving in just two or so days.

“Can I be honest with you?” you ask.

“Of course.”

“I’m sad you’re leaving soon.”

“I’m not leaving yet,” he points out.

“You know what I mean.”

Johnny shifts, resting his arm on the back of your couch. “I have a proposition for you, 304.”

“God, stop calling me 304,” you laugh.

“It feels like we’re interested in each other, but I get the sense you’re unsure about the long distance aspect. What if we hang out tonight, tomorrow I take you on an actual date, and if things go well, we could talk about what communication would look like when I’m away.”

“You know what?” you take a deep breath. “I would like that.”

“But… I have on condition.”

“Hit me.”

Johnny is quiet for a moment. “I’m aware that, no matter how good our dates tonight and tomorrow are, me being away might be too much for you. You have two other guys who are interested and they live here, so… even though I’m a cuddly person, I think it’s better for both of us if we keep things PG before I leave, that way… I mean, if you chose one of them because distance is too much, at least things won’t be awkward for us, and we can still be friends.” 

“I think…” - as much as you hate the idea and want to climb him like a tree - “I think that might be the most mature way to handle this.” 

Johnny nods. “So… what are your thoughts on aliens?”

“Huh?”

“UFO’s, UAP’s, USP’s-”

“What even are all of those?” you laugh.

“Unidentified flying objects, unidentified aerial phenomenon, which is pretty much another term for UFO’s, unidentified submersible phenomenon-”

You shake your head at him in affectionate shock. “Where did you learn all of this?” 

“History network,” Johnny grins. “Listen, why would I ask you surface level questions when we can dive into conspiracy theory? UFO’s are a good way to bounce into all sorts of topics, religion, politics, current and historical events-”

He’s a little odd, but you suppose you understand where he’s coming from now. You decide to give up control, and you lean into his question, loving the twists and turns that the conversation takes. You talk about everything, from the moon landing, to ancient monolithic structures and tv shows about space, a discussion about recent alien films leads to an analysis on favourite actors-

Before you even know it, hours have passed, the wine bottle is empty, and you feel as if you know him a lot better than when he’d first entered your apartment. 

“Do you work tomorrow?” he asks.

You sigh, looking at the time. “At nine.”

“I should probably get out of your hair then. When are you off?”

“Fiveish.”

Johnny stands up, stretching, and you can’t help the way your eyes move to the exposed strip of V-line when his shirt rises. “Guess I’ll see you tomorrow at fiveish, 304.”

You rise to your feet, pleasantly surprised when the gentle giant pulls you in for a hug. God, the feeling of his chest against your cheek- the soft cotton of his muscle shirt and the scent of his cologne- you release a deep breath, fully melting into what must be one of the best hugs of your life.

“I’ll text you,” Johnny says, and as he does so, his lips brush the crown of your head.

He’d said PG, and you suppose this is PG, but fuck, you want more.  

Eight:

Out of all the possible date venues, you hadn’t expected bowling. Johnny had told you to dress casually, he’d picked you up, and taken you down to a massive black truck- he’d driven you around town, pointing things out to you, and you’d ended up at a small, underground bowling bar.

He’s a bit of a goof ball, but you can tell he’s got experience playing this game. To compensate for your lack of skills, he does all sorts of trick shots that make him miss points, and you appreciate his effort to not decimate you. 

You drink beer and chat and play, and again, it feels so natural with him. 

When the game is over, the two of you get in the truck, and Johnny says he wants to show you something. A fifteen minute drive leads you to the edge of town, on a lookout that’s perfect now that it’s dark and the small city’s lights are sparkling.

“Do you take all your dates here?” you tease.

Johnny chuckles. “Would you believe me if I told you I haven’t been on a date in a while?”

“I guess with your job, I would,” you pause, looking over at him. “Do you want to talk about it?”

The large man releases a sigh. “I had a highschool sweetheart,” he starts. “But as time went by, she couldn’t deal with me being a blue collar man. She was very corporate, and our life styles weren’t exactly a match. When she broke up with me, I switched from construction to the rig jobs, figured it would be easier to just put my head down and work. Been doing that for about six years now.”

“So you haven’t dated since highschool?” you ask in shock.

“There’ve been a couple of things here and there. Took a few summers off, had flings, but shit always hit the fan when I went back to work.” 

“That makes sense,” you nod. 

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m a family man at heart,” he assures you. “As a supervisor, I definitely make enough money to take care of the people in my life, but it’s always been a time issue.” Johnny takes a breath, and then he meets your gaze. “What about you? Any skeletons in your closet?”

“Had a couple of failed relationships, the last one inspired me to move away from my home city and come here so I guess there’s a silver lining to it. Ended things with my ex about a year ago and nothing really felt the same after that, figured a change of scenery would do me good.”

“And has it? Done you good?”

You look over at the gorgeous man sitting next to you. “Definitely.” 

It feels like the perfect moment to kiss him, and you note the way his gaze dips to your lips, but then he pulls back, letting out a sigh. “You’re dangerous.”

“Me!?” You act scandalized.

“Yes, you, little miss 304.”

You can only laugh, doing your best to enjoy the rest of your date with him while the knowledge that he’s leaving tomorrow haunts in your periphery. 

Nine:

Johnny’s been gone for three days, and he’s been true to his word when you’d discussed communication while he’s on the rig. He’s kept contact with you, sending good morning messages for you to wake up to, and texting or calling in the late evening when he’s off work.

However, other things have progressed as well. You’d come out of your apartment this morning to find not one, but two bouquets waiting for you, and you feel as if this thing with Jaehyun and Hyuck is getting out of hand.

You find yourself at Jungwoo’s bar again, giving him the rundown on everything that has happened.

“So you’re like, set on Johnny then, huh?” your friend asks.

“I’m not sure, it’s only been three days that he’s been gone but I miss him already, and I can’t even imagine what it will be like to wait another nineteen days-”

“You always knew distance would be a struggle,” Jungwoo nods.

You groan, taking a sip of your fruity cocktail. “I just can’t believe Jaehyun and Hyuck left flowers at my door.”

“You’re going to have to do something about them.”

“Like what?”

“Reject or accept, babes,” Jungwoo says simply. 

“Accept?”

“You’re not technically dating Johnny yet. It sounds like he understands you might go on a date or two while he’s gone, I mean, you had that whole conversation about keeping things PG so it’s not awkward if he comes back and you’ve chosen someone else- it feels like he’s giving you breathing room to explore.”

You can only sigh, resting your head in your hands.

“Do you want to explore?” Jungwoo enquires. 

“I don’t know.”

“Well, you’re going to bump into Jaehyun or Hyuck sometime, so you better figure it out fast.”

Ten:

As you’re returning from happy hour with Jungwoo, you run into your building manager. He’s a young man named Doyoung. He has a very regal look to him, and he’s as attractive as most of the men on the third floor.

He’s in the small building office, and as you walk past, he stops you.

“y/n!” he calls, waving you inside, “I’ve been meaning to talk to you!”

Your heart sinks- your payment wasn’t late, was it? Did you get a noise complaint? Your mind begins to race-

“I heard that people have been leaving notes and flowers at your door,” Doyoung tells you. “As you’re a young woman who is new to the building, I wanted to check in with you and make sure you’re not being harassed.”

Your brain short circuits- it’s one thing for Jungwoo and other people on the third floor to know about your ‘secret admirers’ but another for your building manager to be broaching the topic with you. 

“I uh,” you swallow thickly. “I’m not being harassed.”

Doyoung gives you a pointed look. “You’d tell me if you were, right?”

“Of course,” you assure him. “It’s all just playful, nothing… nefarious.”

God, you hate how proper you’re trying to sound, but how else are you supposed to explain this situation to Doyoung? 

This is so awkward, who knew moving into a new apartment would be this fucking complex? 

Eleven:

You’re in the lobby checking your mailbox when the front door opens and Jaehyun walks in. His hair is windswept, and he looks like he’s getting back from the gym. He immediately flashes you that dimpled smile and your heart begins to thunder in your rib cage.

“Hey, you,” he grins. “Long time no see.”

“Yeah, I’ve uh… been busy,” you offer, quickly closing your mail box.

“Seems that way,” Jaehyun muses, and you realize he’s waiting to go to the elevator with you.

Taking a deep breath, you pull up your big girl panties, walking with him to the lift.

He hits the button, turning to you. “So-”

The elevator opens and you find Hyuck standing there, having just come up from the underground parkade, and suddenly you feel like a deer caught in headlights.

“Hiya, hot stuff,” Hyuck grins. “Going up?”

Part of you wants to turn and run away, but you’re in too deep now to go back, so you enter the elevator with the two men who’ve been fighting for space on your door, and maybe also in your heart.

“How’ve you been?” Hyuck asks.

“I’ve been good, just busy,” you mutter quickly, hitting the ‘close door’ button in the hope that it saves you even one second in this awkward elevator ride.

“You coming from the gym?” Hyuck’s line of questioning has taken a turn, and you realize he’s addressing Jaehyun next to you. 

“Yup, you?”

“Was just out,” Hyuck responds vaguely.

You get the sense that these two might know each other in passing, after all, you all live on the same floor, but at the same time, it’s somewhat clear from their muted interaction that they’re not particularly close.

It’s an awkward, silent minute in the elevator, but it’s even more awkward when you all get off on the third floor, with both men letting you exit first, only to struggle in a pissing match over who follows you.

They end up tracing your steps to your door, and when you get there, they both stop.

“Wait,” Hyuck breathes, and you watch him look from you to Jaehyun then back again. “You must be sticky note dude.”

“And you’re flowers guy,” Jaehyun sighs.

Both of them turn to you and it’s Hyuck who asks, “You’re still single right?”

It must be obvious to them both that if they’re warring at your doorstep, neither of them actually have your number just yet, and while it’s awkward to be put on the spot like this, you understand their confusion.

“Still single,” you assure them, fumbling with your keys. “I uh, actually have only lived here a month, and I’m still getting settled-” you search for the right words while trying not to drop your phone. “I appreciate the interest from you both, but this has gotten a little out of hand- Doyoung asked me about all of this yesterday-”

“Doyoung?” Hyuck scoffs. “What does he care if we leave notes and flowers at your door?”

“I guess he’s just concerned about my safety?” you offer.

While you can tell that Jaehyun understands, Hyuck still seems a little slow to the pick up, rolling his eyes. “As if we’d ever do anything bad.”

Which is funny, coming from a guy who’s supposedly a drug dealer.

“I think I just need some space,” you say finally, shocked by the conviction in your own voice as you slip your key into the lock. “To… you know, settle.”

“I’m sure we can give you some space,” Jaehyun offers, and you can tell from his tone that it’s a warning to Hyuck not to argue.

The plug sighs. “Yeah, we can give some space.”

They’re both very handsome, and upon different circumstances, one of them doing the sticky note and flowers trick might have swayed you, but the fact that it’s become something of a war between them has turned you off. The seriousness in Doyoung’s discussion with you yesterday had made you realize as much, and you’d be lying if you said your growing connection with Johnny didn’t have anything to do with it either.

Twelve:

After the debacle with Jaehyun and Hyuck, you’d anxiously awaited a call with Johnny when he was done work and back at the camp. But now, as you talk to him on the phone, you hesitate about divulging in the events that took place today.

Johnny’s making an effort with you, but you can hear in his voice that he’s exhausted, and you don’t want to add pressure to his shoulders-

“Are you okay, 304?” Johnny asks.

“Hmm?”

“You’re just a bit quiet.”

“I’m thinking,” you admit with a sigh.

“Sounds intense, what’s up?”

Another deep breath escapes you. “So… remember the whole secret admirer thing?”

“Uh huh.”

“They left flowers on my doorstep a few days ago too, and Doyoung actually pulled me aside to ask me about it- he was worried I’m being harassed, and it just makes me think about, you know, being a young woman in a new city and my safety…”

You trail off and Johnny takes the opportunity to empathize, softly telling you, “Being anxious about this sort of thing is reasonable given the circumstances.” 

“It’s not that I think Jaehyun or Hyuck would ever overstep-”

“Well, they left notes, and you didn’t respond, so they left flowers, it’s not exactly a sign that they’re going to back off.”

“I guess that’s true,” you admit.

“Anyways, you were saying, about Doyoung?” 

You love how Johnny can get you back on track, and you take another deep breath to steady yourself. “I saw Jaehyun and Hyuck in the elevator today, and they both walked me to my door which was super awkward, and I guess I pretty much ended up telling them both that I needed space. Part of me wasn’t sure if I should tell you any of this, I know you’re tired after work a long day, but I guess I want to be transparent with you about everything.”

The line is quiet for a moment, and when Johnny speaks, you can tell he’s choosing his words carefully. “I appreciate you bringing it up,” he starts. “If I’m being honest, I’m a little shocked you didn’t accept either of their offers to get drinks.”

Your heart lurches in your chest. “Really?”

“Yeah, I mean, I thought I’d made it clear that I’d understand if you did-”

“Just because you’d understand it doesn’t mean I was going to do it,” you tell him.

Johnny chuckles. “I suppose that’s true. I just, I don’t know, you don’t owe me anything- and maybe you’re just not interested in either of them, but I hope you didn’t say no to them to… spare my feelings or something?”

“Well… are your feelings spared?” 

Another laugh escapes him. “I just mean to say, this wouldn’t be the first time a girl thought she could do long distance, only to get a better option in town and jump ship.”

“Maybe I’m not like the other girls you’ve dated,” you tell him.

“It’s starting to feel like you’re not.” You can hear the fondness in his voice, and it makes your heart race faster in your chest. 

“When I get one man in my head, I can’t think about another. I’m not the type to jump ship,” you explain. “You’ve given me no reason to.”

“Except the distance,” he muses.

“Even with the distance, you’ve been attentive every day, and I’ve really appreciated that. You know, some guys will live in the same city as you, take you on one date, then not talk to you for five days- you and I did two dates back to back, and we’ve been talking consistently ever since.”

“Like I said, I didn’t want you to feel like an afterthought.”

“And I don’t want you to feel like just an option.” 

The line is quiet for a moment, then Johnny laughs. “There you go, being dangerous again.”

“If being genuine is dangerous, then I’m the most dangerous woman you’ll ever meet, Johnny.”

“I work on a rig, 304, I happen to like danger.” 

Thirteen:

You’re drinking wine with Jungwoo in your livingroom when your phone dings, and a smile spreads across your face when you see it’s a text from Johnny.

“One second,” you tell him, putting down your wine to respond to your blue collar man.

“Johnny?” Jungwoo grins knowingly.

“Yup, he’s just telling me he’s off work, but now it’s a two hour drive back to the camp.”

“So our girls’ night is over in two hours, got it,” Jungwoo jokes, except, is it really a joke if it’s true?

You can only laugh, shaking your head and setting your phone down again.

“You like him,” Jungwoo notes. “You like him a lot.” 

“I do,” you confess.

“You told Jaehyun and Hyuck off because of him,” your friend continues.

“Uh huh.” You take a sip of your wine, trying to ignore the knowing expression on Jungwoo’s face.

“So… has it gotten sexual yet? You know, asking for snaps of your tits-”

“Jungwoo!” you squeal, nearly spilling your wine as you go to gently smack his arm.

“What!? It’s a valid question!”

“No! It’s not sexual yet! I mean… I think we both have those feelings, but right now… we’re just, getting to know each other.”

“And when he’s home?” Jungwoo cocks a brow and you giggle even more.

“When he’s home…” you lower your voice, “I’m going to climb that man like a tree.”

“I knew it!” Jungwoo cheers. “Team Johnny!”

You clink your glasses in agreement, waiting for Jungwoo to settle down a little. He’s way too invested in your love life, but you kind of adore it. 

“You know…” Jungwoo trails off, “some rig guys do mostly winters, then come back for the summer and will take a couple of months off. I remember seeing Johnny more frequently last August.”

“He mentioned that,” you admit. 

“Did he say if he plans to do that this year? It’s almost March, so that’s April, May, maybe June… three or four more stints up there until a possible summer of love?”

You laugh at his choice of words, but your heart races at the notion of getting to spend your whole summer with Johnny, of a relationship of normalcy. 

“I’ll have to talk to him about it,” you decide.

“Maybe send some sexy snaps to tempt him, or talk about it once he’s home and you’ve sucked that dick, you know, incentives.”

“You’re so bad,” you giggle.

“I’m a hit of realism, which is what you need after living a fantasy for a month with three men fighting over you.”

You let out a sigh. “I suppose you might be right about that.”

Fourteen:

“How was your day?” you ask, practically kicking your feet now that you get to talk to Johnny.

“Long,” he laughs. “You?”

“It was good, hung out with Jungwoo for a bit, had some wine.”

“I can hear it in your voice, 304, you always get extra cute when you’ve been drinking your wine.”

“Do I?” 

“See? I can just imagine you kicking your feet right now.”

God, he knows you so well already- but you suppose that’s what happens when you talk to someone for hours every day. 

“And now you probably stopped kicking your feet because you’re embarrassed,” he continues.

“You’re a psychic,” you declare.

“Sure I am.”

You take a breath. “There was actually something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“So… you mentioned that sometimes you have the summer off, and I guess, since it’s almost March, I was just wondering if you’d be around in June or July.”

“I mean, I wasn’t necessarily planning on it, but if that’s something you wanted, I could see what I could make happen.”

You pause, considering your words carefully. “I don’t want to tell you what to do… and, I don’t want you to lose out on money for me, especially since we just started dating, if you even call this dating- but, at the same time, I think, long term, it would be easier to manage you going away for six or more months if I knew you’d be back for at least part of the summer.”

“I do call this dating,” Johnny tells you. “So I’ll see what I can do about it.”

“I also wanted to know when you’re flight back is, I was thinking I could come grab you from the airport.” 

Johnny chuckles. “I’ll send you the information, 304.” 

Fifteen:

You’re waiting outside your car when you see Johnny coming out of the airport, and you simply can’t help yourself anymore. You run to him, throwing yourself into his arms.

Johnny chuckles, dropping his duffle to pull you closer, even going so far as to lift you off the ground, releasing a groan as he does so.

Fuck, he feels so good, and big, and warm-

When he sets you down, you throw inhibition out the window, grabbing the back of his neck to pull his lips down to your own.

He smiles into the kiss, his palm flattening against the small of your back, his mouth moving in harmony with your own. You kiss him deeply, pouring in all the emotion of having missed him for weeks- 

It’s you who breaks the kiss, panting and looking up at him. “Let’s get you home,” you state. 

“Whatever you say, 304.”

The drive back to the apartment complex is a blur, you’re so distracted by Johnny that you’re surprised you even make it back in one piece. The elevator ride is quiet, filled with tension, and you can practically feel happiness radiating off of both of you.

“Wanna come to mine?” Johnny suggests. “I need to have a quick shower, unpack a little.”

“Okay,” you nod, excited as you follow Johnny to his place.

He lets you in first, and you eagerly eat up what’s in front of you, looking for details of the decor that might help you know this man even better.

However, you find that his apartment is sparsely decorated, with bare necessities, a minimalist look, which you suppose makes sense given the fact that he’s hardly here.

“Your place is nicer,” Johnny muses as he kicks off his shoes. 

“It’s just more furnished,” you laugh, not minding the lack of items.

“My bedroom is this way,” Johnny explains, heading into it while you follow slowly. He throws his bag on the floor next to his bed before turning to you. “I’m going to wash up a bit, then we can do whatever you want… or, I mean, you could always join me in the shower if that works better.”

He winks at you, and it’s very playful. You can only laugh, shaking your head and feeling your skin flush with heat as you look at the ground.

“I’ll be here,” you tell him, but when he disappears into the bathroom, you find your heart is still racing.

Should you go in the shower with him? 

He had offered for you to join…

Can you be a bit more patient?

No. You can’t. As you stand in his bedroom, you begin to undress, hyping yourself up for the moment that you’ve been waiting for.

After a deep breath, you knock gently on the door to his bathroom.

“Come in!” he calls over the sound of water spray, and you peek your head into the enclosed space. 

The room is full of steam, and the glassy walls of the shower are fogged up, but you can see the outline of Johnny’s body and it has you drooling.

You slip inside, closing the door behind you before making your way to the shower.

“Can I join you?” you ask, giving him one last opportunity to decide if this was a bad idea-

“Get in here.” Johnny opens the shower door, grabs your arm and tugs you inside with him. You blink against the mist, looking up at the large man who’s currently blocking the spray of water from hitting you. “Didn’t think you’d actually join,” he muses with a grin.

“Me neither,” you admit.

Johnny strokes your arm, fingers trailing up so he can cup your face. His thumb brushes by your cheekbone and you lean into his warm touch, releasing a moan. 

“Do you want to do this here, or would you rather we wait till I can get you onto my bed?” he asks.

“Here,” you tell him. “I’m tired of waiting.”

“Didn’t take you as the impatient type,” Johnny chuckles.

“I’ve been patient, for weeks,” you laugh.

“I guess that’s true, let’s fix that.” The tall man leans down, pressing his lips to your own. You immediately wrap your arms around his strong, wet shoulders, pressing your chests together as the kiss deepens. 

You can feel your nipples hardening against him, and his hands move to grab at your hips, pulling you even tighter to his body.

Something is beginning to press against your abdomen, and you love that you’re getting him hard already, that he’s as into you as you are into him. 

His palm slips down, and he grabs a handful of your ass, squeezing deliciously. You break the kiss to throw your head back, eyes closed as you enjoy the sensation of him.

“You know the only bad thing about shower sex?” Johnny asks, lips hot against your throat now. “Water isn’t lube, so I guess you’re going to have to be a good girl for me and wait just a little longer while I get you nice and wet for me.”

“I’m already wet,” you insist.

Johnny only chuckles, squeezing your ass harder as he licks at the sweet spot on your throat. “Let me enjoy this, I’ve been thinking about it for weeks.”

“Really?” you groan. “I never would have noticed, you’re always so PG.”

“I’m not going to be PG anymore.”

“Thank god!” A shiver runs through your body at the idea of what ‘rated R Johnny’ is going to look like- and as he pushes his thigh up between your own, you’re so grateful that you no longer have to wonder, you’re about to find out exactly how dirty this blue collar man can get.

Johnny laughs again, but as he laughs, he pushes his thigh up even higher, making contact with your clit.

“Fuck, I haven’t been touched in so long,” you whimper, immediately grinding down against him.

“Well, you deserve this, you’ve been a very patient, very good girl for me.” 

“I have been,” you nod, rubbing your clit harder against his large, muscled thigh.

“Had options, but you stayed loyal, even when you didn’t have to.” Johnny’s still kissing your throat, and he nuzzles up against your ear, biting your lobe gently. “I feel like those choices have earned you many rewards.”

His words are something like praise- appreciation almost, and you’re thankful that he’s taken into account the fact that you’ve made important decisions to put this blooming relationship first, even when - as Jungwoo said - you had no actual defined loyalty keeping you tied to this tall man.

“I just like you a lot,” you moan, feeling overwhelmed with the possibilities of a relationship with this man- a man who has communicated that he’s interested in something long term, which is such a stark contrast to most of the men you deal with these days.

God, to have hope for a man again- it’s such a foreign feeling.

“I like you too, 304.”

“Johnny,” you groan, “call me something else.”

“I think 304 is cute,” he grins against your throat.

“Please?”

“Okay, baby, I’ll call you anything you want,” Johnny promises, adjusting his grip on you so he can trail his hand up your torso, putting a slight distance between your bodies now so he can cup your breast. His thumb rubs over your hard nipple and you whimper, grinding harder against his thigh. “You are a baby, aren’t you, pretty girl?”

“Yes,” you whimper.

“I could also see you as a bit of a princess,” he muses, pinching your nipple and making you gasp loudly. “Adorable little pretty princess baby.”

He might be overdoing it with the pet names, but you can’t even bring yourself to care- in fact, this overt cheesiness is doing something to you, making your pussy throb as you grind against his wet skin.

“That’s it,” Johnny groans, “I kind of want to watch you get off on my thigh.”

“Yeah?” You swallow thickly, reaching for his hard cock. You’re a little taken aback by how large he is, but you guess you shouldn’t be all that surprised. You’ve been shy so far, not even taking so much as a peek at what you’re going to be working with- and maybe that had been a mistake. You’d been so sure of yourself earlier when you’d told Johnny you could take him without prep, and now you’re realizing how wrong you had been.

A deep moan escapes Johnny as you begin to stroke him, and he rolls your nipple between his fingers, making you cry out- only for his hand to move away, along with his thigh.

You want to protest- only for two digits to press between your pussy lips, teasing your entrance but not pushing in- just playing, toying, moving up to your clit then back down.

“Fuck,” you whimper.

“You definitely feel wet,” Johnny muses.

“So finger fuck me?” you suggest, applying more pressure to his cock as you stroke him off.

“Hmm?” He circles your clit teasingly, being so gentle that your body is already practically begging for more.

“Please finger fuck me?” you ask, your free hand now clutching his forearm in desperation.

“Only because you asked so nicely.”

Johnny cups the back of your head, pulling your lips to his as his fingers enter your hot core for the first time.

Fuck, his fingers alone are enough to stretch you out and it feels absolutely delightful. 

He starts slow, testing the waters as his digits explore your inner walls gently, but as the kiss deepens so do his motions.

You’re absolutely lost in him, whimpering and moaning- your hips even begin to move, eagerly seeking out stimulus that he grants when his palm presses flat to your clit.

“Fuck,” you gasp, holding his strong, veiny forearm even tighter.

“Feels good?” he asks, looking down at you with lust filled eyes.

“Feels so good,” you nod, fighting the urge to just close your eyes and enjoy it, while also wanting to stare up at this gorgeous man who is watching you with clear interest.

You take a shuddery breath, trying to focus on stroking his cock, but he makes it more difficult when he crooks his fingers up, hitting that sweet spongy spot inside of you that has your legs shaking.

“Are you going to be able to stand through all of this?” Johnny chuckles. “That’s the other bad thing about shower sex, it’s a slipping risk.”

“I think I can do it,” you insist, not wanting him to stop his motions for even one moment.

“Just hold onto me tightly okay, but if you start to fall, uh… don’t pull my dick off.”

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you, and Johnny joins you with a chuckle of his own.

This feels so natural, so safe- the fact that you’re both giggling during your first sexual experience together is a great sign, and it makes you relax a little more, which only adds to the pleasure that’s starting to throb out from your core.

“You close?” Johnny asks, sensing the shift in your attention.

“Too close,” you nod, swallowing thickly in an effort to control yourself.

“Want you to cum on my fingers,” he tells you. “You can do that for me, right princess?”

“Uh huh.” Your mind is becoming clouded by lust, and it’s making it harder for you to respond to him-

His fingers are moving fast now, pistoning in and out of you with just the right amount of pressure, his palm stimulating your clit in a way that’s just enough-

You’re getting closer and closer to the edge and you don’t feel like slowing down. 

Your eyes close, your breathing becoming haggard as your muscles tighten with anticipation-

“Cum on my fingers, baby,” Johnny groans. “Wanna feel it.” 

With that, you explode, unable to contain yourself anymore as his filthy words vibrate through your entire being like a mantra. The pleasure is intense, your core clamping down on his digits, body throbbing deliciously as you give yourself over to the feeling of it.

Your legs are weak, and you grab Johnny’s forearm tighter, digging your nails against his skin.

It’s the kind of ecstasy that you never want to end, and it’s clear that Johnny’s not going to be the one to pull the rug out from under you. He keeps you steady, working you through your high until your legs are physically shaking.

Only once he’s sure you’re finished does Johnny pull his hand away.

You open your eyes to watch him slip his fingers into his mouth, groaning at the taste of you, and an echo of pleasure throbs through your pussy again.

“You’re so pretty when you cum,” Johnny tells you.

“Want you inside of me, now,” you respond.

“Hmmm… not yet.”

“What?” 

“You almost just fell over, I don’t think this is the safest place to do this,” Johnny laughs. “Come on, let's get out of the shower, dry off, and I’ll take you to my bed, like I’d planned.”

“Is it really that bad to fuck me here?” you whine.

“One, I don’t want you to slip, and two, I don’t want our first time to be here, you deserve a proper bed, so I can cuddle you after.” 

“You’re such a romantic,” you tease, but your heart swells at the notion of a man actually taking care of you.

“You love it,” Johnny insists.

He reaches behind himself, turning off the spray of water, then, he helps you out of the enclosed space. “Here,” Johnny passes you a towel, quickly patting himself down with his own before wrapping it around his waist, then he begins to help dry you off.

“I can do this part,” you assure him.

“I want to take care of you,” Johnny muses as his palms massage your breasts through the towel, making sure they’re extra dry.

“I think you just want to touch my tits again,” you grin.

“That too,” Johnny laughs.

“Predictable,” you toy.

“You think so?”

“Uh huh.”

In one quick motion, Johnny grabs you by the hips and lifts you onto the washroom countertop, tearing the towel away and discarding it haphazardly as he sinks to his knees.

“I think I’m going to make you cum on my tongue before I fuck you, you know, to prove how predictable I am.”

You don’t even have a moment to argue, Johnny pushes your thighs open, pulls you to the edge of the counter, and dives into your core with his tongue. 

You immediately latch onto his damp hair, throwing your head back as his mouth begins to work your pussy. You’re still sensitive from having just cum, and the sensation of his lips now wrapping around your clit has your muscles clenching with pleasure already. 

“Fuck-” you whimper, loving the way Johnny’s fingers are digging into your thighs, holding you open for a tongue that has a mind of its own.

You especially adore how messy he’s being. There are no kitten licks, no hesitancies, just a full-on lust fuelled ravaging of your core- nothing in your life has ever felt this fucking good.

You tug on Johnny’s hair roughly, but he’s unrelenting, in fact, you think he kind of likes the inkling of pain because he groans against your clit, licking at you sloppily while his nose bumps your sensitive bud over and over.

For a man who doesn’t do one night stands very often, he definitely knows his way around a pussy.

“Shit,” you moan, louder this time, your muscles tightening more and more-

You’re not used to men behaving this way with you, worshiping your body and putting your pleasure first. To have two back to back orgasms before he’s even taken anything for himself? Unheard of.

You can tell he wants you to cum, can tell that he’s eager for it, and the wet licks of his tongue against your sensitive pussy are ensuring that his preferred outcome happens sooner rather than later.

You give in to the feeling, deciding to relinquish control. If he wants to make you cum fast, then you can cum fast, and all of your attention moves to the feeling of pleasure that’s radiating out from your core.

Your abdominal muscles are tightening deliciously, and you begin to buck your hips a little, trying to ride his tongue while you hold him tight to your pussy by his hair.

Johnny groans again and the vibration of it sends a shiver of delight through your entire body.

“Fuck, I’m gonna-” You swallow thickly, brows furrowing with effort as you latch onto that feeling of euphoria, unwilling to let it drift away- “just like that, just like that-”

He sucks lewdly on your clit, flicking it with his tongue, and that’s all you need to explode, your pussy clamping down hard on nothing, squeezing and squelching sinfully. 

You’re gasping loudly, moaning like a whore as your orgasm washes over you in waves- and like your first high, Johnny is just as unrelenting with this one.

He doesn’t pull away, and with so much attention focused on your throbbing clit, it’s almost too much for you to handle.

You begin to push at Johnny’s head, but he’s like a brick wall, unmoving and diligent in his task.

“Oh my god-” your voice is raising with effort, raising with the euphoria that’s threatening to overwhelm you completely. “Johnny- too much-”

This time, he allows you to push him away, and you sink back down against the countertop, chest heaving with effort. Your legs twitch with aftershocks from your orgasm, and you can’t even bring yourself to open your eyes yet, still lost in the ecstasy he’d just provided.

“You okay, princess?” Johnny asks, and you can sense him rising to his feet, his eyes inspecting you.

“Overstimulated,” you admit, another shock washing through you and making you jolt.

“I got side tracked,” Johnny admits, and you peer out at him from under hooded lids to see him sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck.

“It’s okay, it was just a lot,” you assure him, reaching out to gently stroke his forearm. 

“Come on,” Johnny coaxes, lifting you off the sink so he can carry you to his room, “let’s give you a breather.”

He lays you gently onto his mattress, moving the blankets so you can get under the warm duvet.

The sheets smell like him, a manly pine scent, and it makes you groan, burying your face against the pillows while your brain tries to reaclimatize after a mind shattering orgasm.

Johnny joins you, and you instinctively cuddle close to his chest, delighted by the way his large arms wrap around you to hold you close.

“Just give me a sec,” you whisper, but even as the words leave your lips, your hand snakes down to his cock, and you gently wrap your fingers around the thick length.

Johnny chuckles. “Part of me thought you’d be too tired to actually fuck now.”

“Never,” you tell him, although you’re so exhausted from two extreme orgasms that there’s little conviction in the tone of your voice. 

“Take your time,” Johnny assures you, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head while you languidly stroke his large cock. Unlike in the shower, however, there’s no lubrication of any kind, and soon, you tire of it.

“Okay,” you tell him, sitting up, “I can ride you.”

“Are you sure you want to be on top?” he blinks in shock. 

“Just to start, just to get used to your size,” you assure him.

“Whatever you want, princess.”

You swing your leg over Johnny’s hips, straddling him, and his hands find your waist. 

“Actually, let me grab some lube,” he says, sitting up abruptly. The muscles in his abdomen ripple under the skin, and you’re taken aback by just how beautiful this man is even as he’s reaching for his bedside table.

He pulls out a green bottle, squirting some of the gell into his palm before he grabs his cock.

You kind of love the view of his large hand on his massive cock, stroking up and down-

“Like what you see?” he laughs.

“You’re just so perfect,” you muse.

“That makes two of us I guess,” Johnny grins. “Okay, whenever you’re ready.”

He’s all lathered up now, and you grab the base of his cock, guiding yourself down on the tip. 

As you sink down even an inch, you groan at the stretch.

He’s covered in lube, and you’re definitely more than lubricated from two orgasms, but fuck- having not had sex in ages only to take the biggest cock of your life is definitely an adjustment for your tight pussy.

“Take it slow,” he assures you, tightening his grip on your hips to keep you steady as you gently sink down further on his cock.

“I’m good, you’re just so big,” you whimper.

Johnny only chuckles at your words, his eyes fixed on the meeting of your bodies.

“Not sure I can take it all like this,” you admit.

“I’ve heard that when a girl is on top, things feel deeper,” Johnny muses. “Don’t feel like you have to take it all right now, we can work up to that.”

“Okay,” you nod, “I’m going to bounce a bit.”

“Works for me, princess.”

You close your eyes, leaning over him and placing your hands firmly on his chest as an anchor as you begin to move up and down. The feeling of his massive cock against your inner walls has your body singing with pleasure already, and you begin to moan.

“Fuck,” Johnny groans, his fingers digging into your hips. “Feels good.”

“So good,” you agree with another whimper.

One of Johnny’s hands moves from your hip to your breast, and he begins to massage the sensitive flesh as you ride him gently. The sensation of him tweaking your nipple has you groaning, your pussy clenching incredibly tight around him, which makes both of you cry out desperately.

“Fuck, let me know when you want me to take over,” Johnny tells you, and you get the sense that you might be killing him a little with the slowness of your pace. His hips twitch, and you suspect that he’s doing everything in his power not to madly thrust up into you, which is something you appreciate greatly.

You ride him for a little while longer, and then you give up, legs burning with effort already. “Okay, okay, you can top now.”

You pull off of his cock, and Johnny helps you roll down onto the bed, your back hitting the mattress.

Instead of just getting on top of you, however, he stays on his side and leans over you, pressing his lips to yours while his hand continues to massage your breast.

You groan against his lips, threading your fingers through his hair desperately as his tongue invades your mouth.

He kisses you until you’re breathless, until your pussy is pulsing with desire, only then does he get between your legs, bringing the head of his cock to your awaiting hole.

“If you ever need me to slow down, or be less rough, or anything, just let me know,” he tells you, swallowing thickly as he gazes at your body.

“Just do it, Johnny,” you assure him, stroking his forearm. “Please.”

You watch his adam’s apple bob with effort again, and he slowly pushes the head of his cock into your wet hole, making you cry out. You grip his arm tighter, closing your eyes to enjoy the stretching sensation.

He sinks into you, inch by inch, gently thrusting to get you used to the intrusion.

When he’s almost fully inside of you, Johnny leans over your body, his elbows making contact with the bed on either side of your head so he can be in something of a plank position overtop of you.

You can feel his breath on your face, and you open your eyes to look up at him, your hand moving to cup his cheek while your legs wrap loosely around his waist.

“You can fuck me now,” you tease, grinning at how slow and gentle he’s been up until this point. “Please.” 

Johnny presses his lips to yours, and just like that, he begins to move.

Each thrust is unbound pleasure, his hips moving fluidly as he gradually increases his pace. His long cock hits deep spots inside of you that have you crying out, wrapping your arms tightly around his shoulders while your tongues battle for dominance in the most heated kiss of your life.

He’s moaning too, and it sounds so good- making your pussy even wetter as he decimates it perfectly.

You love the feeling of his large body pressing down against your own, his hard muscles are delightful under your touch when you skim your hand along his shoulders.

He’s steadily increasing the power behind each thrust, and now, the bed is beginning to rock with his movements, delighting you even more.

How can this man have so much raw power, but still be so gentle and careful when it matters most?

You might be a little obsessed with him, but as his massive cock hits your g-spot, you suppose it’s no wonder your feelings are growing at a rapid pace.

He has you cock drunk, in a way that you’ve never experienced in the entirety of your life, and you kind of love it.

“Shit,” Johnny cusses, breaking your kiss so he can press his mouth to your throat. “I never- never asked about protection.”

“I’m covered,” you assure him.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” you nod, swallowing thickly. “You can cum inside me.”

A deep groan escapes Johnny, and it vibrates through where your chests are pressed together.

“Don’t want to cum like this,” Johnny tells you, “it’s too soon.”

He pulls away, and you whimper when his cock leaves your wet hole. But then Johnny is manhandling you into doggy position, and you let out a moan of pleasure, arching your back and resting your head against the bed.

“You look good like this too,” Johnny muses as he pushes his cock back into you, his hands grabbing your hips roughly. “Always look so good.”

His praise is doing something to you, encouraging you enough to make you begin to move as well, doing your best to match his pace and push back against him with each thrust.

The sound of skin on skin fills the room, and your moans mingle in the air together.

“Fuck,” Johnny groans, railing into you even harder. “So fucking tight-”

“I’m close,” you assure him, “just let me-” you slip your hand between your thighs, fingers seeking out your sensitive clit. The moment you make contact, you feel your pussy contract around Johnny’s cock, and it makes you both moan loudly.

“Yeah, want you to cum with me,” Johnny tells you. “Want us to cum together.”

You don’t respond, too focused on your task as you begin to draw small circles around the sensitive bud.

God, nothing has ever felt this good, to be so completely full, while your clit is receiving attention at the same time-

The tension is quickly building in the pit of your stomach, and it’s clear to both of you that you’re rapidly approaching the edge-

“Here,” Johnny’s voice distracts you, and all of the sudden he’s hauling you onto your knees, pinning your back to his chest with an arm braced across your breasts, one hand cupping your boob like a seatbelt. You can feel his breath on your throat, and you quickly turn your head, seeking out his lips with your own.

His free hand pushes yours aside from your clit, applying even more pressure to your sensitive bud as he fucks into you erratically.

God, you feel him absolutely everywhere. You feel like a doll, suspended in time and space while this absolute unit of a man gives you all of the pleasure you could ever ask for, pulling at your strings like an expert.

He’s groaning more deeply- and with one more rough circle of your clit, you feel yourself come undone. You gasp against his lips, core clamping down on his cock-

A strangled sound escapes Johnny, his thrusts becoming even more erratic as he cums with you, coating your throbbing insides with his cum as you both fall off the edge together.

He’s clinging to you in a way a man has never clung to you, and you’re kissing him as if he’s the air you need to breathe. In this moment, it’s only you and him and this feeling of euphoria that you never want to give up.

He fucks you through your high until you’re both a panting mess, and then, he helps you back onto the bed, taking a deep breath.

“I’m going to go get some tissues,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

You can only moan happily, inhaling the scent of pine as you cuddle against his pillow.

Johnny returns shortly, and he hands you some tissues to wipe his cum from your core.

“Should we take another shower or something?” Johnny asks, laughing a little at how messy you both are.

“Cuddles first,” you tell him.

Johnny grins, joining you on his bed, his strong arms immediately wrapping around you. “Cuddles first,” he agrees.

You both take deep breaths, and as your body begins to calm down while pressed against his, you know you made the right choice of man in this fucked up, love island-esque apartment complex that you now call home.

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! This was way longer than I intended, which is why it took a minute to be posted, but I hope it was worth the wait!

🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below! 

🔮 preview.  In the summer, Johnny’s not just a blue collar rig man, he’s a dude with friends, tanned skin from his obsession with the sun, and a taste for margaritas while sitting on boats between water skiing stints.

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, use of toys, vibrator, nipple clamps, overstimulation, breast worship, use of lube, inklings of pain kink, hand job, fingering, multiple reader orgasms, etc…   I petnames. (hers) princess

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.8k I teaser wc. 100

🌙 starring. Johnny x afab!Reader

bonus

People sometimes talk about a specific summer in their life being ‘the summer of dreams,’ and you never quite understood what could make one stretch of months so significant- but now, living life with Johnny by your side every day, it makes total sense.

In the few months you’ve been dating, he’s done his best to introduce you to friends, but with such a short time in town, it was always difficult to juggle friends, family, and your growing relationship.

Now that it’s summer, you get to see how Johnny is when he’s just being himself.

☀️ to read the full fic AND 2.8k bonus NOW, subscribe to my Patreon, then click here

👹 or check out what else is on my patreon here

🔮if nothing strikes your fancy, check out my m.list

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As I was short on time this month and unable to do a teaser, here's another shout out to some of my favourite blogs who interact with my work, I love you guys endlessly

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@meowniee - @ridenotpark - @ollieollieoctopus

@axo-l0tl - @blspphr3 - @roseandpeaches

[amourquinn]

𝐇𝐔𝐆𝐆𝐘 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐑 ; quinn hughes ( drabble )

pairing : boyfriend!quinn x fem!reader wc. 528

genre : fluff long-distance relationship no warnings

summary : even miles away, you found a little something that makes the distance between you and quinn feel a little smaller

quinn was lying on his bed, his phone propped up against his pillow, watching you through the screen. facetime had become your thing—one of the only ways to make the distance feel bearable. no matter where he was, no matter how exhausted he felt after a game or a long practice, hearing your voice always made everything feel lighter.

you were curled up in your bed, wrapped in a blanket. the soft glow of your fairy lights made you look even prettier, and quinn found himself staring at you like he always did, like he was trying to memorize every detail of your face.

you had been talking about your days, bouncing between random stories and comfortable silence, when you suddenly perked up, a mischievous smile spreading across your lips.

“oh! i saw something today that reminded me of you,” you said, eyes shining.

quinn raised a brow. “yeah?”

you nodded. “wanna guess?”

quinn groaned, already knowing you were about to make this difficult. “y/n…”

you giggled, tucking your chin into your blanket. “come on, just one guess.”

he sighed, pretending to think. “uh… was it hockey-related?”

“nope.”

“something blue?”

you grinned. “yes.”

quinn narrowed his eyes. “wait, really?”

“mhmm.”

he studied you, trying to read your expression. “is it… a hoodie?”

your jaw dropped. “sort of… but how did you—?”

quinn smirked. “lucky guess.”

you shook your head, reaching off-screen for something, then held up a small stuffed teddy bear, its tiny body wrapped in a navy blue hoodie.

quinn blinked. his heart did something weird in his chest.

“it’s you,” you said simply, your voice softer now. “little teddy bear, little navy hoodie. the second i saw it, i was like, ‘yup. that’s my boyfriend. that’s quinn.’”

quinn swallowed, his fingers curling into his hoodie.

“that’s…” he cleared his throat, suddenly feeling warm. “that’s cute, y/n.”

you beamed, hugging the bear close to your chest. “i had to get it. now, whenever i miss you, i can just cuddle this little guy.”

quinn exhaled, shaking his head. “you’re unreal.”

you batted your lashes dramatically. “i try.”

“you don’t even have to.” his voice was quieter now, full of something he wasn’t sure how to put into words.

you seemed to understand anyway. you studied him for a moment, then murmured, “i wish you were here.”

quinn sighed, his fingers curling into his blanket. “me too, y/n.”

“do you think you’ll be able to come back to la soon?” you asked, tucking yourself deeper into your bed.

“i’m gonna try,” he promised. “as soon as i get a few days off.”

you smiled sleepily, still holding the teddy bear close. “good.”

quinn watched as your eyes grew heavier, your blinking slower. he loved this part—the way you always tried to fight sleep just to stay on the call a little longer.

“go to bed, beautiful,” he murmured.

you yawned. “only if you do too.”

“i will.”

neither of you hung up. you never did.

so quinn just stayed there, watching the love of his life slowly drift to sleep, a little navy blue teddy bear tucked against her heart—just like he always wanted to be.

© amourquinn

[holyblonded]

return of media day | stargirl

pairings: alexia putellas x teen!reader

summary: you are about to drop your first signature cleats with nike and they decide to do a joint shoot with alexia

warnings: rfef mentioned 😐

notes: this was extremely cute y’all. it’s a bit short but i couldn’t think of anything else to add. tell me what else yall want to see with this series!!

You were already half-asleep in the car on the way to the shoot, having just landed back in Spain after international break. Nike hadn’t given you too many details about today, just that it was important and you had to be there.

So naturally, you showed up in a hoodie, sweatpants, and slides, looking like you had just crawled out of hibernation. You walked onto set, rubbing your eyes, only to freeze in place.

“There’s no way,” you muttered, blinking rapidly.

You turned away, rubbed your eyes again, then looked back to confirm you weren’t hallucinating.

“ALE!”

Alexia barely had time to react before you full-speed sprinted at her and jumped, forcing her to catch you mid-air. Alexia let out a surprised grunt as you crashed into her, legs wrapping around her waist like some kind of overly excited koala.

Her first instinct was to scold you, but an involuntary smile spread across her face as she held you. “You’re so dramatic.” She huffed, adjusting her grip to keep you from sliding to the floor. “You do realize I’m not a crash pad, right?”

You ignored her, squeezing tighter. “I knew I wasn’t hallucinating.”

“You thought you were hallucinating?” Alexia chuckled, finally setting you down.

“I’ve been awake since five a.m., Ale. I didn’t even know where I was going today. Nike just shoved me into a car and told me to smile.” You pulled back slightly, holding her shoulders as if to make sure she was actually real. “And then I see you? My brain short-circuited.”

Alexia smirked. “Understandable. Seeing me is a life-changing experience.”

You lightly smacked her arm. “Don’t make me regret missing you.”

By now, everyone on set had stopped what they were doing, watching your reunion with varying degrees of amusement. A cameraman filming the behind-the-scenes content caught the whole thing, likely already thinking about how to turn it into a dramatic slow-motion edit.

“Wait—” Alexia suddenly furrowed her brows, looking around the studio. “Why are you here?”

“Why am I here?” you repeated, blinking. “Why are you here?”

Alexia gave you a deadpan look. “I work with Nike.”

“Well, so do I,” you shot back, placing your hands on your hips.

A pause. Then, ever so slowly, the realization dawned on both of you.

“Oh my god,” Alexia exhaled, eyes widening.

“No way,” you whispered dramatically.

“You’re the shoot?” Alexia asked, pointing at you.

“And you’re part of it?” you gasped, pointing right back.

“Did neither of you read your emails?” one of the Nike reps finally interjected, rubbing their temples.

You and Alexia turned to them, completely unapologetic.

“Absolutely not,” you said in unison.

Alexia shook her head with a fond smile, draping an arm over your shoulders. “Well, I guess this just got a lot more interesting.”

You grinned. “And a lot more chaotic.”

The Nike rep sighed, muttering something about “athletes and their aversion to reading”, before motioning for the crew to resume setting up.

Meanwhile, you leaned into Alexia, still grinning like an idiot. “Hey, Ale?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you miss me?”

Alexia rolled her eyes, pulling you closer. “Unfortunately.”

The interview started off smooth. Professional. Standard media day questions.

The crew had set up the cameras, the lights were bright, and the atmosphere was lighthearted. You and Alexia sat side by side, answering questions about the new cleats, the upcoming season, and your goals.

Then, someone asked, “How would you describe each other’s playing styles?”

Alexia hummed, tilting her head thoughtfully. You turned to look at her, fully expecting a compliment, maybe even some poetic analysis of your skills.

Instead, she casually dropped, “Estrella is… chaotic.”

Your mouth dropped open. “Excuse me?”

“But effective,” she added, holding up her hands like that softened the blow. “You never know what she’s going to do next. It’s terrifying.”

You scoffed. “Wow. That’s crazy. You know, I was gonna be nice, but now?” You turned to the camera, shaking your head in mock disappointment. “Alexia is a control freak.”

Alexia gasped dramatically, pressing a hand to her chest like you had personally insulted her entire family. “I am not a control freak.”

“Oh, you so are.”

“I just like order,” she defended, crossing her arms.

“You demand order,” you corrected, smirking. “Everything has to go exactly how you see it in your mind, and if someone does something unpredictable, you short-circuit for a second before trying to control the chaos.”

Alexia opened her mouth, then closed it, then sighed. “Okay, maybe. But that’s a good thing.”

You snorted. “Yeah, yeah, whatever helps you sleep at night, Capitana.”

Alexia narrowed her eyes playfully before turning back to the camera. “Well, since we’re being honest, I stand by what I said, chaotic, unpredictable, borderline reckless—”

“Hey!”

“—but effective,” she repeated, laughing.

You turned to the interviewer, pointing at Alexia. “This is why she stresses me out.”

Alexia raised an eyebrow. “You stress me out.”

The media crew was loving it. The interviewer barely held in their laughter.

“Alright, so if you had to pick one word to describe each other’s playing style?” they prompted.

Alexia didn’t even hesitate. “Unhinged.”

You let out a dramatic gasp. “That is so rude!”

“You’ve literally nutmegged someone while tying your shoe,” Alexia shot back. “I rest my case.”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. “Fine. If I’m unhinged, then you’re bossy.”

Alexia smirked. “I am your captain, you know.”

“And I am your problem,” you teased back.

The media crew burst out laughing as Alexia groaned, throwing her head back.

“You are a menace.”

“And you love me.”

Alexia sighed, shaking her head with a smile. “Unfortunately.”

The interview wrapped up, but the banter continued as you walked off set.

“Chaotic?” you muttered. “That’s crazy. I bring excitement.”

“You bring stress,” Alexia corrected.

“Same thing.”

“Absolutely not.”

You smirked. “Admit it, though. You love playing with me.”

Alexia gave you a side glance, shaking her head. “I tolerate it.”

You grinned, throwing an arm around her shoulder. “I’ll take it.”

Everything was going smoothly—well, as smoothly as anything involving you ever could—until it was time to officially start the photoshoot for your signature cleats.

You stood in the center of the set, cleats laced up, lights shining, the Nike crew prepped and ready to go. Just as they were about to start, you clapped your hands together.

“Wait, hold on,” you said, making everyone pause. “Before we do this, we need to discuss the name of my cleats.”

Alexia, sitting off to the side watching, sighed deeply, already sensing disaster.

The Nike reps exchanged nervous glances.

“Alright, so,” you began confidently, “I was thinking we call them The Menace Ones.”

A heavy silence settled over the room.

“No,” Alexia said immediately.

“Okay, okay,” you continued, undeterred. “The Chaos Touch?”

“No.”

“The Ankle Breakers?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Nutmeg 3000?”

“Please stop talking,” Alexia groaned.

You turned to the Nike crew, hoping for support, but they all seemed too afraid to challenge Alexia’s authority.

“Fine, fine,” you huffed dramatically. “I’ll be normal about it.”

Alexia narrowed her eyes, clearly unconvinced.

For the next twenty minutes, you behaved. You posed, dribbled, and shot dramatic looks at the camera like a professional. Everything was going perfectly.

Then came the first break and you disappeared.

Five minutes later, you returned, dressed head to toe in an Adidas tracksuit. The entire room fell into stunned silence.

Alexia’s eyes widened in pure disbelief as she stared at you. “No.”

“What?” you said innocently, adjusting the collar of the jacket. “We’re on break.”

“TAKE THAT OFF,” Alexia demanded, already storming toward you.

“I just thought I’d switch things up—”

Before you could finish, she grabbed your arm and started dragging you toward the changing room.

“You are going to get us both killed,” she muttered through gritted teeth.

“You have to admit it’s a little funny,” you said, barely suppressing your grin.

Alexia shot you a glare. “You are lucky Nike likes you.”

“And you are lucky I love you enough to go change.”

Alexia sighed heavily, releasing you with one final warning look. “If you come out in Puma next, I’m leaving.”

The camera zooms in on your cleats as you spin them in your hands, running your fingers over the details. The black leather shimmers slightly under the studio lights, gold speckles running along the sides like stars scattered across the night sky. The laces are a deep navy, and the sole glows with a metallic silver finish. A rich purple fades into the black near the heel, blending seamlessly like the sky at dusk.

You smile softly, tilting the shoe toward the camera.

“These are the Estrella 001s—my first signature boots with Nike,” you say, voice filled with quiet pride. “The name comes from my nickname, Estrella, which means ‘star’ in Spanish. But it’s more than that.”

You turn the boot over, showing the gold lettering on the back heel tab, where Estrella 001 is printed vertically in a clean script.

“For me, stars have always meant guidance. I used to look up at them when I felt lost, like they were the only things that stayed constant. They remind me of my past, my struggles… everything that made me me.”

The camera pans over the subtle red and yellow stitching near the tongue of the cleat.

“This is for where I come from. Barcelona, Spain,” you continue. “I might not play for Spain anymore, but it’s still my home. It’s where I fell in love with football. Where I met the people who shaped me. I’ll never forget that.”

You flip the boot back over, running your thumb over the inside, where a tiny phrase is stitched in white.

“It says, ‘Siempre pa’lante.’ Always forward. That’s something Ale taught me when I was going through a tough time. I didn’t always believe it, but she did. And now? Now I do too.”

You set the cleat down and glance toward the camera, a small smile playing on your lips.

“But I wouldn’t be here without my family. My real family.”

Your eyes flick over to Alexia, standing off-camera.

“When Ale took me in, she gave me something I didn’t think I’d ever have again. A home. A place to belong. Someone who loved me without conditions.” You pause, voice thick with emotion. “She didn’t have to, but she did. And I’ll never be able to thank her enough for that.”

The camera smoothly shifts toward Alexia, who is very obviously blinking back tears, her lips pressed together tightly as she tries (and fails) to hold it together.

You grin. “Are you crying?”

She sniffs, shaking her head. “No.”

You smirk, standing up and walking over. “She’s crying.”

“I’m not—”

Before she can finish, you wrap your arms around her waist, pulling her into a tight hug. She exhales sharply, but her arms immediately come up to hold you close.

The camera catches the soft, warm moment between you two.

“You took me in,” you murmured. “You didn’t have to. But you did.”

Alexia’s arms tightened around you. “You were mine the second I saw you.”

You squeezed her tighter, voice thick. “Thank you for loving me, Ale.”

She kissed your forehead, whispering softly. “Siempre pa’lante, mi niña.”

[uniquexusposts]

A false music degree | L. Hamilton

Summary: Lewis, Y/n and friends were having a game night. Lewis and Y/n didn't know they are in love, but their friends knew.

The living room was alive with noise, half-empty snack bowls scattered across the table, and a pile of game cards thrown haphazardly to the side. It was the kind of chaos that made the evening feel like a scene straight out of a sitcom, everyone laughing, chatting, and trying to beat each other at a game of Hitster. There were six of them in total, and once again, Lewis and Y/n found themselves ‘accidentally’ teamed up.

“This is a terrible idea,” one of their friends muttered as they shuffled the cards, clearly not impressed by the duo’s earlier antics.

“Why? We make an excellent team,” Lewis said confidently, nudging Y/n’s knee with his own under the table, a casual gesture that had somehow become their default.

Y/n rolled her eyes, pretending to be annoyed but secretly enjoying the camaraderie. “We lost the last two rounds,” she reminded him, trying to focus on the game rather than the persistent, annoying warmth she felt from his touch.

“Yeah, but we lost with style,” he shot back, his grin so wide and easy that it was almost impossible to resist.

Their friends exchanged knowing glances but remained quiet. Everyone in the room had witnessed it; the constant, subtle way Lewis and Y/n acted as if they weren’t fully aware of the chemistry between them. Like they did for the past two years. It was impossible to ignore how they seemed to end up next to each other in every game, every conversation, and how they always exchanged those little looks that spoke volumes.

“Alright, next song,” their friend finally announced, pulling a card from the deck. The music immediately started, an old-school R&B hit that no one could resist grooving to.

Lewis snapped his fingers, instantly recognising the tune. “Oh, oh, I know this one!” He turned to Y/n, as if this was the moment they’d been waiting for. “C’mon, tell me you know this.”

Y/n squinted at the phone playing the song, her brow furrowed. “I do, but… oh my god, I have no clue when it came out.” She wasn’t even sure what year this song belonged to, but there was no way she was admitting that. “I mean, was I even born? And how old would I be then?”

“You’re killing me, Y/n,” Lewis groaned dramatically, throwing himself back in his chair with exaggerated frustration.

“Hey, I thought you were the music expert!” she retorted, giving him a playful shove.

“I am, but I need teamwork, woman,” Lewis said, laughing.

The whole room seemed to stop as they leaned in closer to one another. Heads bent together, whispering possible years back and forth, exchanging guesses like they were solving a world-class mystery. It was a moment of absolute focus. Their knees, pressed against each other, a shared space that neither of them seemed inclined to move away from. Lewis’s hand rested on Y/n’s arm, his fingers absentmindedly tapping on her skin as they tried to figure out the song.

The rest of the group exchanged another round of looks, eyes widening at the pair’s unspoken connection. It wasn’t lost on anyone that their friends were now sitting at a front-row seat to what felt like the most painfully obvious romantic chemistry.

“You two done flirting or?” one of them finally muttered under their breath, the teasing tone clear, but neither Lewis nor Y/n heard it.

“2004,” Y/n blurted out, proud of herself for making a guess. “I think.”

Lewis gasped dramatically. “That’s so wrong.” He shook his head as though it was the most absurd guess possible.

“Well, what’s your guess, genius?” she challenged, already preparing for him to overestimate his own musical prowess.

“2002,” he said confidently.

Their friend flipped the card over. 2003.

The entire group erupted into laughter as Lewis and Y/n stared at each other in horror.

“I hate us,” Y/n groaned, slumping into the couch, her face burning from the embarrassment.

“I love us,” Lewis corrected, his arm casually draping over her shoulders without a second thought.

The room went eerily quiet at that, the playful atmosphere evaporating like water under the sun. The words were out there, hanging in the air like an unexpected confession. It was the kind of thing that people noticed, and yet Lewis and Y/n just stared at each other, unable to break the sudden weight that filled the space.

It took Y/n exactly three seconds to notice the heavy weight of Lewis’s arm around her. It wasn’t like it was the first time, but this time felt different. Her throat went dry, and she cleared it, eyes darting to the others in the room as she tried to find her voice.

“Uh,” she said, fidgeting awkwardly, suddenly too aware of how close they were.

Lewis blinked, glancing at his hand like he had no idea how it ended up there. His eyes flickered back to hers, his lips twitching as if he were about to say something, but nothing came out. He was equally speechless.

And then, like the complete idiots they were, they just… moved on. Pretended nothing happened. The awkward silence was quickly covered by a forced chuckle, and they picked up the next card as if nothing had shifted between them.

The game continued, but the atmosphere had undeniably changed. It wasn’t just about the playful banter anymore; it was about the unspoken tension that hung in the air, thick and undeniable. Every word between them felt charged, every glance seemed heavier, and every touch lingered just a little too long.

“So, uh, next round?” one of their friends said, clearly trying to steer the group back to normalcy.

Y/n forced a grin, trying to shake off the strange feeling that had suddenly settled over her. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s do this.”

But even as she reached for the next card, she couldn’t help but notice the small thrill that ran through her when Lewis’s knee bumped hers under the table. It was a casual gesture, something he’d done a hundred times without thinking, but this time, it felt like electricity. She quickly looked up at him from the corner of her eye. His expression was unreadable, but there was something about it that made her heart beat faster.

Another song played, and this time, their friend shot them a pointed look. “You two better get this one right. If not, I’m kicking you off the team.”

Lewis raised an eyebrow. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Watch me,” their friend teased, clearly not taking them seriously.

Y/n couldn’t help but laugh, the sound escaping before she could stop it. “Alright, alright. No pressure.”

The familiar energy of the game took over again, but this time, something was different. They both leaned in closer than they probably should have. Every instinct told them they were being ridiculous, but the way they were so easily in sync, even when they were wrong, kept pulling them closer.

“I got this,” Lewis muttered, tapping his fingers on the table, clearly pleased with his guess.

Y/n smirked. “Are you sure? You were so confident last time.”

His grin widened. “Trust me. 2010.”

Y/n paused for a moment. “2010?” She shook her head. “No way. It’s older than that.”

Lewis leaned back in his chair, watching her with that same knowing look he always had. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

“You’re wrong,” Y/n insisted, voice laced with mock seriousness. “I’m saying 2009.”

Their friend flipped the card over. “2008.”

“You are sacked,” Y/n emotionlessly said. “Contract not extended.”

A collective groan echoed around the room, and the laughter that followed was inevitable. But this time, it was different. It wasn’t just about the game anymore. It was about them; about the way they were constantly in sync, even when they didn’t want to be.

“I’m starting to think we’re just here for the comedy,” Y/n muttered, burying her face in her hands.

Lewis, on the other hand, looked entirely too pleased with himself. “Well, we’re a great team, whether we win or lose.”

And that was the problem, wasn’t it? The way they worked so well together, how they were constantly in sync without even trying. They had always joked about it, pretending it didn’t matter, pretending they weren’t the slightest bit affected by it. But now, in the quiet aftermath of their last game, it felt like they were lying to themselves.

Their friends, of course, weren’t fooled for a second.

“You know, we’re not blind,” one of them finally said, breaking the silence with a teasing tone. “You two are, like, a walking rom-com at this point.”

Y/n’s face turned bright red, and she quickly glanced over at Lewis, who suddenly found the table to be incredibly interesting.

“Shut up,” she mumbled, trying to hide her embarrassment behind a laugh.

Lewis shrugged innocently, his grin widening. “Hey, we’ve got chemistry. That’s all that matters, right?”

And as much as Y/n wanted to protest, as much as she wanted to deny that anything was happening, she couldn’t help but feel a flutter in her chest at the way he said it. Maybe they were just two idiots playing a game. Maybe they were just a couple of people who liked each other in their own messed-up way.

But deep down, she knew it was more than that.

And so did he.

The problem was, neither of them was brave enough to admit it yet.

Taglist: @itsjustkhaos @crashingwavesofeuphoria @maryvibess @ironmaiden1313 @sltwins @heart-trees @npcmia @llando4norris

[valiwrites]

alluring ✧.* daniel ricciardo

: ̗̀➛ pairing: daniel ricciardo x fem!kalogeras!reader : ̗̀➛ warnings: age gap; reader is 25, daniel is 35, hate comments, gosspi accounts : ̗̀➛ smau

: ̗̀➛ summary: she’s the oldest kalogeras, and he’s a former f1 driver. when fans find out, they completely break the internet.

yourusername ✔︎

liked by elianakalogeras, noahrisling, danielricciardo, demitrakalogeras, sundaykalogeras and 1.3m others

yourusername editing the new video for y'all 😘

view all comments

user1 in y/n we trust ☺️

user2 i still don't know who's the oldest

user3 y/n is the oldest she's 25 then sunday she's 21 then demitra she's 18 and then eliana she's 17

user4 what's y/n's hair type??

user5 i'd say 3a or 3b

user6 i might be crazy...but is that daniel ricciardo in the likes??

user7 i thought it was a glitch!! omg he actually liked her post

elianakalogeras send me that picture pleaseee

yourusername ofc that's all u ask for 🙄

yourusername ✔︎

liked by yourbff, demitrakalogeras, danielricciardo, chrissturniolo and 3.2m others

yourusername life lately

view all comments

user1 she has a bf?? oh ma gawd will he be in the next vid??

user2 that would be epic but i doubt it

elianakalogeras just so y'all know that man could be her father 🙂

yourusername ELI!! STOP IT!

user3 lmao she's into older guys?? i get it i get it

user4 who is it please tell us!!

user5 do you guys think it's daniel??

user6 nah but he is suspiciously liking her posts 🤔

user7 he could just be a fan like us

user8 he's 35 i doubt he watches four girls on youtube for fun

user9 i put my bet that its daniel

kalogeras_news

liked by 64k users

kalogeras_news y/n kalogera accidentally shared faceless pics with her new mystery boyfriend—probably meant for her ‘only friends’ or private account! the photos were up for just a minute before getting deleted, but over 4k people already saw them. still no word on who the guy is…

view all comments

user1 it’s gotta be daniel, he’s always liking her stuff

user2 nah, i’m not convinced it’s him, could be someone else

user3 wait, daniel ricciardo? i can totally see it tho

user4 but like, why would she post it if she didn’t want anyone to know?

user5 that's why its called an 'accidental post' sherlock 🙄

user6 i lowkey thought it was a random dude but the likes make it suspicious

user7 i bet it’s someone from her friend circle, not him tho

user8 people are saying daniel because of the likes, but what if it's a whole different person?

user9 honestly, the way daniel likes all her posts, it’s gotta be him

user8 nah i don't think so. i mean she liked a lot of pedri's posts before and they aren't dating

user10 maybe she just didn’t want to make it public yet, idk

user11 either way, i wanna know who he is!

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, sundaykalogeras, noahrisling, elianakalogeras, demitrakalogeras and 2.3m others

yourusername i ain't saying anything 😤

view all comments

user1 yo that tattoo looks like daniel’s, am i tripping?

user2 that leg tattoo is too recognizable, c’mon now

user3 if that’s not daniel, i’ll eat my hat

user4 a lot of people have tattoos like that tho…

user5 okay but you look fire in these photos, y/n

user6 y/n really out here serving looks

user7 you look so good, forget the tattoo, we need more of these pics

demitrakalogeras gurl is that my bag??

yourusername yes? i'm the oldest i can take anything i want

user8 not sure why people are acting like daniel would ever date her, lmao

user9 if you’re gonna hate, at least make it creative. this is weak

yourusername

liked by elianakalogeras, demitrakalogeras, yourbff, danielricciardo and 3.5m others

yourusername i guess i do like older men

user1 i knew it was him! y'all look so cute together

user2 called it!! i knew daniel was the one she was talking about

user3 yoooo i was right all along, it was him! love this for you guys

user4 she’s 25, he’s 35… kinda creepy, no?

user5 yeah, it’s kinda weird. i’m not sure how i feel about it

user6 i mean, age gaps like this are more common than we think. not a big deal

user7 idk, i feel like people make a bigger deal out of age gaps than they need to

user8 10 years difference is wild, but okay

user11 i love you y/n, but i’m not feeling daniel. he’s just too old for you, girl

user12 honestly, why does it matter how you feel about it if she’s happy? let her live her life

kolagerascompalations ⤑ y/n and daniel being the best couple for 2 minutes straight

y/n stood next to eliana on the ice, talking to the camera while noah struggled to keep his balance on his skates, holding the camera steady. y/n turned her head to see daniel sitting on the bench, scrolling through his phone with a coffee in his hand. she skated away from the camera, and it followed her as she went to hug daniel. eliana let out a soft “aww,” while demitra chimed in with a playful “eww.”

---

while everyone’s getting ready for the video, daniel hums a random song, and y/n immediately joins in, singing the lyrics out loud. eliana and sunday give them weird looks, but daniel and y/n just smile at each other like no one else is around. “okay, that was cute,” y/n says, and daniel gives her a playful wink.

---

while filming a fun video with her sisters, demitra suddenly asks y/n, "how would you scream if you caught daniel in bed with someone else?" y/n raises her eyebrows, laughing. "that's a dramatic question!" demitra smirks, "let's recreate it!"

demitra and daniel hop into bed together, with demitra pretending to be the 'random lady.' y/n stands at the foot of the bed, taking a deep breath. "okay, here we go!"

y/n throws her hands up dramatically and lets out a loud, exaggerated scream, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" daniel bursts out laughing while demitra tries to stifle her giggles.

y/n dramatically points at demitra. "how could you betray me like this?" she fake pouts. daniel can’t stop chuckling and says, "babe i'm sorry!"

y/n finally drops the act, shaking her head with a smile. "okay, but for real, I would probably cry, not scream!" daniel stands up from the bed and leans over to her, chuckling, “I’d never do that to you, I promise!”

---

y/n and her sisters are gathered around a pottery wheel, filming a fun video. y/n glances at the camera and says, “you know, guys are really hot when they do pottery. there’s just something about it.” demitra nodded agreeing with her

just then, daniel walks into the frame, looking curious. y/n smirks at him. “what do you think? can you be a hot potter?”

without hesitation, daniel grabs a lump of clay and sits down at the wheel next to y/n, saying confidently, “watch and learn.” he starts shaping the clay, glancing over at y/n with a cheeky grin.

“okay, this is getting serious. look at you trying to prove you’re hot!” she playfully rolls her eyes, but she can’t hide her smile.

as daniel works on his pottery, y/n pretends to critique him. “that looks like a blob, daniel. I think you need more practice.” he looks over, feigning shock. “excuse me? this is art!”

eliana, watching from the side, laughs and says, “honestly, you both are cute, but i definitely wins the pottery competition!”

daniel playfully huffs, “well, I can be cute and hot at the same time, thank you very much!”

---

as daniel carries y/n, noah zooms in, teasing, “look at this simp, carrying his girl like a queen!”

---

[kingedbishop]

That brief show of emotion was met with the same look as before, as Bishop made sure to guard himself at the same time. That was subtle, he had to admit that. Perhaps Cyberlife had managed to create something worth the while.

"I suppose that's a limited sample. Although I would expect someone designed to do detective work would be provided with a deeper understanding of this sort of behavior."

Just because he personally chose not to act like a human being most of the time, it didn't mean he didn't understand how they acted. Then again, that might have just been another jab.

He looked back to his cards, "As they do. You can at least trust in the debate taking so long to get to a point that you might outlive the people involved."

That was what he did anyway.

"Ah, that works." Rook pulled out her phone, "Did you catch that, Willow?"

"Of course." Willow was already on the lookout. A rushing android should be hard to miss.

"Sorry about that. It's better to keep our guards up with Bishop around."

Then again they hadn't heard from the agent in a while. Rook followed Dan all the way to the garage. She didn't know what to expect, but it looked like the construction units looked friendly enough.

"Well, you should probably mention that hole in the wall you made." That seemed like something that should concern these androids.

While she was expecting to spot a familiar face, she could have never guessed who it actually was.

"Yeah, I'm new around here. I'm Rook, nice to meet you!" she replied with a smile, "Okay, that's good to know. I haven't played that game but I like Jet Set Radio. Do you know that one?"

It was difficult to read Bishop when he could maintain his usual frowny look regardless of the circumstances. His android counterpart specifically chose not to show a greater range of emotions, despite being more open about them, but the agent had spent several decades pretty much surgically removing his.

There was no reason for him to stick around to play a card game and chat when he could be off helping with important research back at the base. But since going back currently wasn't an option, a usually well hidden side of him was beginning to show as he specifically went out of his way to bother Nines.

He couldn't do otherwise. He had to antagonize the other person in the room who was keeping him from having full control of the exchange.

"That's what they all say." At least it was entertaining enough to keep him from trying to find enrichment by starting a fight.

"At this point, all the military can do is hide its involvement in case there is an investigation." He would know. He had done that plenty of times.

"Yes, you can ask Willow to give it a shot." Rook replied, "She might not have a long conversation with him, but she might be able to give you some more information on Kelvin or the way he thinks. It kinda sounds like he's trying to save the stuff you're teaching him on bad sectors of his memory. Maybe she can do something about that."

It was likely that Willow was still listening in on the conversation, but she found showing up with a solution to somebody's problems unprompted could feel a bit condescending. The best way to do this was to inquire her directly.

"That sucks. But at least they didn't start selling him around like a rare collectible." She would make sure to not bring the topic up with Brent though. He deserved to be treated like he was his own person. "Sure, I'd like to meet this other guy."

It was better than getting chased around by mutants.

[bokutoko]

cw: suggestive (mdni), making out + ass grabbing hehe, mentions of ovulation UM WHO AM I????

kita had always been the one to be so reserved, with soft smiles and his routinely careful, deliberate actions. he had always been the one to be so respectful, with always a “yes ma’am” or “yes sir” in his responses. he had always been the one to look so put together, so level-headed, as if nothing phased him enough to invoke any strong reaction.

but with you perched on his lap, your lips on his, and your hands in his hair, he quickly devolved into something no one never expected of him.

your lips had always scrambled his brain in a way he never quite comprehended, the taste of them causing a haze to shroud his mind, either from your chapstick or the last drink you had—or both. he had no idea how you had this iron-clad power over him, but frankly, he didn’t really care.

and good god, the plush, soft texture of your lips did nothing to ease his self control either, his tongue gliding along your bottom lip in a hungry, yet almost reverential way. you were the first thing in his life to ever make him question his sanity. he believed you to be practically otherworldly, with your intoxicating presence and soft touch that made his skin burn in the best way possible.

his hands glided along the bare skin of your thighs as your own gently tugged at his hair, eliciting a low, reserved groan from him. he could feel your little smile against his lips, and you proceeded to gently pepper hot, open-mouthed kisses along his jawline and neck, already feeling the slight stubble on his skin, despite his daily morning shave. the brine from the sweat on his skin hit your tongue, the taste making you yourself feel dizzy, needing more, more, more. you made sure to kiss his favorite spot—behind his ear, you learned. with a gentle bite to his skin, you carefully soothed the mark with your tongue.

fuck, kita was sure he was about to ascend to the heavens and see a bright light awaiting him.

as if his mind escaped him, he was unable to keep his hands to himself as they wandered to the swell of your ass, squeezing and kneading the softness of you. and when he heard that same soft little moan he always hears, he felt like he could fall to his knees for you, like he could be your most faithful, devout worshipper until the end of his days.

kita shinsuke, reduced to a beautiful, needy man because of his sweetest temptation.

“shin,” you softly purred in his ear, your breath warm against his already heated, sweaty skin, “y’looked so good outside weed eating… just can’t help myself.”

he hummed with cheeks flushed a sinful shade of pink—a mixture of both sunburn and pleasure—and his eyes slowly opened to reveal a pair of beautiful, hazy brown eyes. “i sure ain’t complainin’…”

he looked so breathtaking that you couldn’t even help yourself when you uttered your next words, the beginning of kita’s end. the end of any semblance of self control he had. “i’m ovulating, y’know.”

it was as if time stood still, as if everything became so much clearer. as if kita had seen the light.

yeah, you were definitely going to see the light too after he was finished with you.

a/n: ABS POSTING SUGGESTIVE CONTENT?? WHO IS THIS??? thanks to @nectardaddy i too have seen the light of truth about kita shinsuke… also i guess this is my thank you for 400 gazillion enjoy ur treat

masterlist | navigation

please do not copy, alter, or repost my work. ©bokutoko 2025.

[flwrstqr]

日语 ⟣ I'LL LIKE YOU . . SECOND GUESSING YOUR FRIENDSHIP ─────𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗌𝖼𝖾𝗇𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗈, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗂 𝖼𝖺𝗇'𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗉 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗐 𝗈𝖿 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾.

𝓲. when you're more than friends with enhypen

❪ 日语 ❫ : enhypen & fem!rea 1OOO ❜ skinship, petnames kissing ⎯ fluff head canons one shot ˊᯅˋ & click / archive

다니 : this photoshoot of ki & won will always be engraved in my brain ㅠㅠ .. specifically used that won pic for someone .. cough cough (my favie won girl)

LEE HEESEUNG

heeseung tastes like mint gum and something sweet you can’t quite place, maybe the remnants of the iced americano he always drinks. his lips move like he’s savoring this—like he’s scared you’ll pull away. but you don’t. you never do. your hands tangle in his hoodie strands, pulling him closer as his fingers ghost over your waist, hesitant but wanting. "this is a bad idea," you mumble against heeseung’s lips, but you don’t pull away. his hands are already at your waist, like he needs this as much as you do. "then why aren’t you stopping?" he breathes, and you don’t have an answer, not when his lips ghost over yours again. but you never talk about it, never question what it means, and when heeseung kisses you again, you let him, because it’s easier that way.

PARK JAY

"jay," you sigh, staring at the dress in your hands—soft, delicate, way too expensive. "you have to stop doing this." but jay just grins, leaning back against the couch, arms crossed like he's waiting for you to give in. "why would i? you look pretty in them." friends don’t buy you designer dresses just to see you smile, don’t brush your hair back and say, “this one’s my favorite,” when you step out of the fitting room. but jay does. and when you finally, finally give in—twirling just a little for him, watching the way his eyes light up—you pretend not to notice the way he looks at you, like he’s waiting for something more.

SIM JAKE

"you comfy, pretty girl?" jake's voice is soft, lazy, like he has nowhere else to be but here, sprawled out next to you. his arm is draped over your waist, fingers tracing idle shapes against your hip, and you don't know why the way he says it makes your stomach flip. he always calls you that—pretty girl, baby, angel—but something about the way he says it now, making it feel different. making it feel real. "yeah," you say. his lips curl into a smirk, like he knows something you don’t. "good," he hums, tugging you closer, his breath warm against your skin. but you don’t let yourself overthink it. instead, you just let yourself melt into him, into the way he holds you like you belong to him.

PARK SUNGHOON

"didn’t know you liked hanging around idiots," sunghoon mutters, arms crossed as he leans against your doorframe, watching the guy you were with earlier walk away. his jaw is tight, his eyes sharp, and you don’t miss the way he kept cutting the poor guy off mid-sentence, dismissing him like he was nothing. "he’s not an idiot," you say, but sunghoon just scoffs, pushing past you into your room like he owns the place. "sure," he deadpans, flopping onto your bed, arms behind his head like he’s totally unbothered. except, he is. you saw the way he glared, the way his fingers twitched when the guy got a little too close. you crawl in next to him, and immediately, his arm hooks around your waist. "he's so annoying, i think you should ditch him," sunghoon mumbles.

KIM SUNOO

"you’re not even listening," you pout, nudging sunoo’s arm, but he just laughs, soft and sweet, shaking his head. "i am," he says, but his eyes tell a different story. he’s watching you like you’re the only thing that matters, like every word out of your mouth is something he wants to memorize. the fond smile on his lips only grows as you ramble on, completely unaware of the way he looks at you. "then what did i just say?" you challenge, crossing your arms. he hums, like he’s thinking, but really, he’s just admiring you. "something about… your coworker being annoying," he guesses, grinning when you roll your eyes. "lucky guess," you mumble. sunoo just hums, resting his chin on his hand. "whatever, pretty girl," he murmurs.

YANG JUNGWON

jungwon always lets you steal his hoodies, even when he grumbles about it, even when he pretends to snatch it back just to hear you whine. you wonder if friends do that, if friends pull you into their side when you’re cold and give you their hoodie. “you think too much in that brain of yours,” jungwon murmurs, flicking your forehead before tugging the hoodie’s hood over your head. his fingers linger at your chin, like they belong there. you roll your eyes, but you don’t pull away. “i was just thinking about how you suck at being just a friend,” you tease, and he laughs, shaking his head. “yeah?” he hums, tilting his head, eyes locked on yours. “then stop thinking.” and when he pulls you in closer, you really, really do.

NISHIMURA RIKI

riki flicks your forehead, grinning when you scowl. “you’re so slow, hurry up,” he teases, pulling you closer by the sleeve of your hoodie. your phone buzzes, and you glance down, catching the matching phone cases between your hands. “stop looking at me like that,” riki groans, shoving his own phone in his pocket, but you catch a glimpse of his wallpaper—your face, mid-laugh, the same one you have of him. “weirdo,” you mutter, flipping your hand to show the silver ring on your finger, identical to his. “says the one who wanted matching rings.” riki snorts, tugging at your pinky. “you agreed.” you roll your eyes, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach. it’s never been talked about—why he does these things, why you let him—but when he looks at you like that, like you’re his favorite thing in the world, you think maybe you don’t need to.

[sluttysnowangel666]

Pentagon - thanos/ choi su bong x reader

request/summary: at your friend nam gyu’s request, you accept an invitation to “black out night” at his club, where he also invited his friend thanos. you both cross paths, leading to an interesting… discussion.

pairings: su bong/thanos x reader

warnings: smut, club hook up, fingering, p in v, unprotected, fwb mentioned with nam gyu, drug use.

use discretion when reading past the line. not responsible for the content you consume. 18+, mdni

———

“You’re such a fake friend!”

“Oh, Jesus, Nam Gyu. Will you grow up? It’s a Wednesday night-“

“But it’s black out Wednesday!” He whines, throwing his head into your pillow.

He’d been begging you to come to his stupid club for weeks, but each time you only responded with a “Maybe. I’ll decide for sure later,” which you never ended up doing. Now, the night before had finally came and you were set in your decision that no, you would not be attending.

“Yeah, which means Thanksgiving is Thursday-“

“What makes you think I give a fuck about some stupid American holiday?” He yells.

“What makes you think I give a fuck about getting black out drunk at your stupid club?!” You yelled back, the words coming out before they could stop. Your hand flew over your mouth, and Nam Gyu’s playful demeanor changed. “Nam Gyu, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.”

“Whatever. See you after the holiday, I guess.” He says, grabbing his coat to leave.

“Wait, Nam Gyu, don’t go. We still have to smoke, Nam Gyu!” You called after him, as he quietly closed the door behind him. You sighed.

“Fuck.” you had really done it this time.

You hurt his feelings when all he had wanted to do was spend some time with his friend at his club since you never go out. And now that you had dug yourself into this hole, the only way you could dig yourself out was by going.

You texted and called his phone, but he didn’t answer. And at this point, the only way to get his forgiveness was to just show up.

So, you took an everything shower, laid out one of your few dresses best fit for a club(a cute little short and black strapless dress that wasn’t leaving much up to imagination), and then went to bed.

Of course, you didn’t sleep well. Your mind was racing with thoughts of what tomorrow night would hold, because you weren’t one to make the best decisions when drunk. In fact, you and Nam Gyu had hooked up once or twice after attending his club and getting too hammered. It would probably happen again this time, but you felt like you owed it to him after your outburst.

The night eventually came, and your outfit was was jaw dropping. The second you stepped out of the cab outside Club Pentagon, all eyes were on you.

You stepped inside, the music and bass thumping your whole body. Men were throwing themselves at your feet, but you had a mission. A mission to find Nam Gyu, get wasted on free drinks, and head back to his place to hook up.

You weaved through the crowded dance floor to the VIP area, assuming he’d be in his usual booth.

“You can’t come back here.” The bouncer outside the section says, placing an unnecessary hand on your chest. You stared up at the tall guard, his height towering yours.

“I’m here to see Nam Gyu, I’m his friend.”

“Are you on the list?”

“I don’t think so, he didn’t know I was coming. Just go tell him it’s Y/N.”

The bouncer turns, eyeing Nam Gyu’s usual booth that was covered by a curtain.

“He’s busy.”

“Bullshit, you didn’t even check.” You say, but he ignores you. “Please just let me in, he’s literally my best friend.”

“Then why haven’t I ever seen you before?”

“I don’t come out often. Just come on please?”

He eyes you, saying nothing.

“Pretty please?” You bat your eyelashes at him.

He was just about to fold, when a man walks up beside you.

“How’s it goin’, brother?” The bouncer greets him much more politely than he did you.

“Not too bad. Should be under Thanos.” The man says. The bouncer checks the list before nodding and lifting the red rope. Just before the man crosses, he glances at you. His gaze lingers, squinting as he attempts to put a name to your face.

“Hold up, I know you.” He says, pointing. “Uhh… fuck… I think it’s… Y/N, right? Nam Gyu’s little side piece.”

“We’re just friends, actually.” You respond, a slight hint of venom on your tongue.

He smirks. “Sure.”

You roll your eyes, ready to give up and turn to go to the dance floor, before he stops you.

“Wait, aren’t you coming back here?” He asks.

“Nam Gyu didn’t put me on the list.” You say. He laughs, assuming a deeper meaning than what there actually was. It felt pathetic, appearing as if you were just a little forgotten floozy chasing after Nam Gyu.

“Come on, señorita.” He says, holding his hand out to you. You don’t wanna accept, given his cocky nature, but you also don’t wanna be on the cramped dance floor alone.

You take his hand, and he gives the bouncer a slight nod before pulling you towards Nam Gyu’s booth. He pulls open the curtain, revealing Nam Gyu with his jeans slightly lowered, legs spread, getting what appeared to be one hell of a blowjob.

“Whoa! Get the fuck-Oh, shit! Y/N, my girl, what the hell are you doing here?” He asks, way too happy to see you, given you interrupting him. The girl pulls off him, covering her face in shame. He pulls up his jeans and fixes his belt as the girl runs off.

He leans over the table to hug you. “Ew. Don’t touch me.” You say, holding up your hands and leaning away in disgust.

Thanos laughs, reaching his hand out to dap up Nam Gyu. “How you been, brother?”

“Can’t complain.” Nam Gyu says, giving him a ‘bro hug’ and leaning back into the leather couch. The table in front of him is a wreck, filled with empty glasses and lines of coke just waiting to be snorted.

“Help yourselves.” He says, noticing you staring at the table.

“I think I’m okay.” You say, disdain in your voice.

“Such a priss.” Thanos mumbles, loud enough for you to hear, his voice laced with a challenge.

“I’m sorry, did you say something?” You spit at him.

“No.” He says, shaking his head with a grin.

“I didn’t think so.”

He smiles even wider. You roll your eyes, taking the rolled up dollar bill from his hand.

“Whoa, Y/N. Don’t think you need to prove anything to this guy.” Nam Gyu teases.

“Trust me,” You snort a line, then look at Thanos and say, “I know.”

His smile falters, just slightly, knowing you’d won the battle.

But, would you win the war?

As the night begins Nam Gyu orders rounds and rounds of shots for you all, back to back, non stop. You grew more drunk with each shot, and your body fought you to force them out everytime you forced one down.

Thanos inched closer to you as the night progressed, until eventually his thigh was touching yours.

His rough jeans scratched your bare leg, but you were so far gone you hadn’t paid it any mind.

“So, Y/N,” Thanos drags your name on his tongue. “What does someone like you do for a living?”

“Someone like me?” You ask, sipping on your drink.

“Yeah, someone so… uptight.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes and setting your drink down. “You’re so insufferable. How does anyone stand to be around you?”

“Usually they’re sitting.” He jokes, nudging your knee with his.

“Hm. Well maybe I should stand then.”

“You never answered the question.”

“Huh?” You ask, already having forgotten it in your drunken state.

“What do you do for a living?” He asks, irritated this time.

“I’m an assistant attorney.” You say.

“Well, maybe you can help me with a crypto problem of mine then.”

“You’re on your own there.” You say. “What do you do for work? That is, if you even work.”

“So mean.” He teases. “I’m a rapper.”

You laugh, so hard that your stomach hurts. You’re leaning over, gripping his arm for support as you try to pull yourself together as best you can. “Oh, my god. It makes so much sense.”

He’s not smiling. In fact, he’s irritated at how unserious you’re taking him.

“Sing to me.” You slur.

“I said rap, not sing. Learn the difference. Since you’re so smart, with your fancy lawyer degree.”

“Aw, okay, don’t get your panties in a twist.” You laugh at him.

“Don’t make me take yours off.” He attempts to tests the waters, but he’s so drunk he just dove straight in. His breath catches as he waits for your response, he knows for sure he scared you off now.

“I’m not wearing any.” You respond, smirking. He smirks back at you, amused by your warm and flushed cheeks. He glances past you at Nam Gyu, dead asleep on the other couch.

“Rap to me.” You pull his attention back to you.

He pulls something out of the air, free styling to the beat of the music that radiates through the club. The words go in one ear and out the other, but you’re still pretending to listen.

You nod and laugh, so drunk. He laughs back, reeling you in with that sweet smile and those pearly white teeth.

He rests his hand on your knee, drawing little circles. He’s waiting, testing, challenging you.

Your hand grabs his, moving it slowly up your thigh, all the while staring into each other’s souls.

Thanos fingers graze your inner thighs, feeling the heat of your cunt through your panties.

“Liar.” He says, his face inching closer to yours.

“Where’d I lie?” You smirk, your fingers grazing up his chest and to his neck.

“You said you weren’t wearing any panties.”

You’re both so close, yet so far.

“Guess I’m just full of surprises, huh?”

“Yes, you are.”

You break, closing the distance between you both as you grab his collar to yank his lips into yours. Your teeth clash together, the kiss rough and drunk and desperate. So desperate, so full of need.

His tongue sneaks pasts your lips, desperate to taste every part of your mouth. You taste so good; your lips the flavor of fruit and vodka.

One hand wraps around your throat, holding you for balance, the other moves your panties to the side to rub your wetness with his fingers.

You break the kiss, moaning.

“Shh. You don’t wanna wake him up now, do you?” He says, looking over at Nam Gyu, who was out like a light.

“Fuck, I-I don’t care. I want you.” You moan. The music was so loud anyway. You should be fine, right?

He slips a finger in you, drawing gasps and moans from your lips. You roll your hips into his fingers, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him into you. You moan right in his ear, fueling him to fuck you with his fingers even harder.

He kisses you again, rough and sloppy. You’re too coked out to notice the way your lips are starting to bruise. Your nails dig into his arm, and your moans are trapped in his mouth as you inch closer to your release.

He pulls away, growing even more hard as he hears your whiny moans.

“Beg for me.” He tells you.

“You annoying fuck.” You moan, and he curls his fingers in you. “Fuck, fuck, okay. Please, please, Thanos. I need you to fuck me.”

He urges your finish and you’re a whimpering mess onto his shoulder, a string of curses and his name leaving your lips like a prayer.

He pushes down his jeans, taking off your pink panties and stuffing them in his pocket to keep as a reminder of you. If you had been sober you would’ve fought for them because they were your favorite pair, but unfortunately you were too desperate to be fucked to pay it any mind.

He thrust himself into you, not even wrapping himself first. Your nails dig into his back, moaning in ecstasy. His whispers in your ear are breathless and dirty, an attempt to make you a mess beneath him,

which was succeeding.

Tears pooled in your eyes, and you begged for that man in the most heartbreaking way. He was grinning ear to ear above you.

You, such an uptight little priss, falling apart beneath him.

“Who’s your daddy?” He teases.

“Ew, shut the fuck up.” You say in disgust, but the whine in your voice betrays you. He sucks on your neck, leaving bruised and purple hickeys on every inch. You were gonna be so screwed at work.

“You know you like it.” He groans in your neck. “Little prissy princess.”

You scoffed in response, still moaning. You hated to admit it, but you did kinda like it.

“Say you like it.” He slows his thrusts.

“No.” You moan. He slams into you, hitting your cervix. “Oh, god, I l-love it.”

He smirks, “You love ittt…?”

“Ugh,” you groan. “I love it, daddy.”

“There’s a good gjrl.” He picks his pace back up, fucking you relentlessly. You fingers trail under his shirt, clawing his chest.

“I’m so close.” You whine.

“Come on, then. Give it to me.” He growls. You come undone, screaming in ecstasy, barely even audible over the music.

But he hears it, and it pushes him over the edge. He spills into you, whining just like how you were.

He pulls out, sitting upright and fixing his jeans. The clarity hit him like a train, and he knew he was cooked. He needed to see you again, and you hadn’t even left yet.

He looked over at you, hand on your forehead as you caught your breath, legs spread and pussy on full display to him still.

He glanced over at Nam Gyu, who was laying down staring right back at Thanos. Thanos’ breath hitched slightly, but Nam Gyu just held a finger to his lips and closed his eyes, pretending he hadn’t even stirred in his sleep.

By the time Thanos looked back at you, you had fallen asleep too. He pushed your legs down so your body was straight, then he fixed your dress by tugging it down so far no one could even get an idea. He took off his jacket(his favorite one!) and draped it over your legs.

He got up and left, knowing you were safe with Nam Gyu there…

knowing he had to see you again.

[cindol]

date night so good with nanami that you’re kissing in the apartment elevator yeah….. that’s hot.

all the tension of you leaning in, giggling at nanami’s jokes about overtime and work in the office just set this off, mixed with the chardonnay you two had half cups of.

Originally he was just supposed to be dropping you off, doing his due diligence as a man to make sure the woman he just had a date with was safe and in her home, no matter how much you fussed he took the extra mile.

one compliments lead to another really and his lips were on your for as long as this elevator was running. The tittering you made died down, transferring into moans with how nanami was almost swallowing your lips all sloppily.

your hand being on his chest didn’t stop him, just made his kisses more deep, taking your breath way while he multitasked boldly sliding a hand underneath your dress and under your thigh to grip it.

he came to a halt when you really pushed him a bit when you heard a familiar ‘ding!’ signaling your floor’s stop. You and his lips seperated with a trail of spit and you caught your breath along with him while staring each other.

“guess this is my stop, a shame i can’t continue having a sloppy makeout sesh’ with my date.” you quipped.

he just kept breathing heavily, but nodded. “i wouldn’t want to come in so soon, but i wanna see you the next date again if you have any free time on your schedule.”

[hgfictionwriter]

Revelations: Part Five

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Tensions and emotion have been building for weeks and weeks. You're still trying to reconcile what your relationship - and your future - was, and what it is now. Everything comes to a head.

Warnings: Angst. Mention of masturbation and sex. Language.

A/N: Rest of the series can be found here.

"How's my beautiful girl? I can't wait to see how gorgeous you'll look."

You sighed inwardly as you read Jessie's text as you and your friends waited. You were wedding dress shopping today and this was your first booking of the day.

Jessie's text sparked a smile, however it was brief as your eye was drawn to the prior messages from the other day.

------

"Hey, I know it's [y/friend's] birthday dinner on Friday and the reservation is at 6:00. Do you know if we're all starting right away or do you think there'll be drinks first and then dinner later?"

"I'm not sure. Why?"

"Well, it's just that Zoie starts swimming Friday and her class starts at 5:30. I'm just trying to sort out how I might be able to do both."

"Babe?"

"I don't have to go to her class. It's totally fine. There'll be others."

"It's fine Jess. Just show up when you can."

"No, it's okay. They probably won't even do much day one. I'll go to the next one."

"Jess. Go to Zoie's class. She'd want you there."

"You sure? It's not too, too far from where you guys are meeting. So I shouldn't be overly late. I'll bring [y/friend] a bottle of her favourite wine."

"All good. We'll be happy to see you whenever you get there."

-------

You sighed again as you finished rereading. Your thumb hovered over the keyboard and you found it difficult to muster up the energy to respond. You did though.

"You know you're not supposed to see the wedding dress until the actually wedding, right? lol"

You name was called and your head snapped up and a polite smile crossed your face as you stood. You tucked your phone away and your friends ushered you along after the consultant.

"It says here you have a December wedding," the consultant remarked as she turned to you with a warm smile while you walked.

"Oh, yeah," you answered tepidly, somehow caught off guard by the comment.

"Winter weddings are nice! And we don't get quite as many of those," she commented lightly as she continued to lead you and your friends to the room at the back.

"Oh. My fiancée is a footballer, so we scheduled it during her off season."

"Very nice," she said. "Now, what kind of a style were you thinking for your dress?" She asked as you reached your destination and she turned to you with clasped hands awaiting your response.

Your mind went eerily blank. You'd envisioned a dress, or at least a couple, several times before. You'd pictured Jessie standing at the end of the aisle, tears in her eyes as she watched you walk down the aisle. You'd pictured how tenderly she'd hold your hands as you said your vows. You'd pictured her slipping the band on your finger. The kiss.

But right now you just felt tired and you mind slowly churned as it tried to conjure up a vision.

You blushed in embarrassment. "Um, I don't really know. Whatever looks good, I guess," you said with a laugh you hoped didn't sound too forced.

Your friends immediately jumped in with ideas and for that were you thankful.

Soon you were offered option after option after option. One dress held up after another, each awaiting your approval or disapproval, everyone watching you closely. You could feel your nerves starting to fray as this whole exercise began to overwhelm you.

Eventually, to put a stop to the carousel of dresses, you picked the one that actually stayed in your mind throughout the barrage of options. Everyone chattered excitedly as the dress was retrieved and the consultant opened the lush curtains to the fitting room.

You stepped in and she began to prepare some things for you. Subconsciously you retrieved your phone, looking for some kind of distraction and reprieve from the way your heart was beating loud in your chest.

You opened Instagram mindlessly and the first story on your feed was one Sara posted.

You hadn't wanted to add her. But she extended an invite, and, well, Jessie had her now too, so you might as well be in than out.

You vaguely noted the consultant talking to you over her shoulder, but you were more focused on the clip of Jessie and Zoie kicking a soccer ball back and forth at the park, laughing and running together. The caption, "She wants to be just like her mama" sent a searing pain through your chest.

"Okay, you're all set."

"Hm?" You asked blankly as you looked up from your phone to the woman. Your eyes darted between her and the dress and you plastered a smile on your face. "Oh, great. Thank you."

"Don't worry much about fit right now. It's probably going to feel bulky and not quite right, but that's all stuff we tailor and sort out as part of the alterations. Now, do you want to call one of your friends in to help with the dress?"

"Oh, yeah," you said as you shook your head out with another practiced smile while you tried to stay present.

Your friend helped you step into the dress and you even managed to have a laugh during the whole process as she zipped you up. A soft smile was still on your face as she turned you towards the full-length mirrors. She rested her hands on your shoulders as she took you in, a smile of awe on her face.

You looked at your reflection as you stood there in what could be your wedding dress. You were smiling in the mirror, a smile of yours that had become second nature the past few months and one that you were oh so sick of. This image before you - you smiling in this gorgeous gown, a vision of you at the alter - it felt distant and foreign. You didn't recognize this person.

"You look stunning. What do you think?" Your friend asked. You smiled further.

"I like it," you lied.

As she unzipped you later, you purposefully made a request that drew her away and left you to stand there quietly in front of the mirror alone as you held up the dress with one hand.

This should've been a joyous moment. Instead, you felt like you were mourning a future that never came to be.

That image of Jessie laughing and running around with Zoie - knowing that it was Sara watching on, not you - flashed through your mind.

There were two parallel worlds happening. Jessie your fiancée. Jessie, doting parent to a daughter that wasn't yours, dedicated co-parent and partner to someone who wasn't you.

You stared at yourself for a few moments before your eyes began to sting and your lip trembled. You immediately turned away and took a deep, shuddering breath.

You had a choice to make. Or rather, whether you liked it or not, it felt like the choice had been made for you.

---------

You heard Jessie's key slide into the lock and the bolt turn before the door opened. Her voice carried down the hall as you heard her taking off her shoes, bags rustling in hand.

"Hey, you didn't get back to me, so I just picked up some stuff for stir fry. Is that okay?"

You didn't reply.

Instead, you remained seated at the kitchen table, shoulders slack and body listless as you stared vacantly at the shining diamond ring you'd set in the middle of the table. This ring that she'd bought and given to you with love, with promise, intent and dreams.

You absently rubbed your ring finger that now felt naked. In the grand scheme of things, the ring hadn't been on your finger for all that long, but you felt something akin to phantom sensations despite it.

"Oh, there you are. Are you-"

Jessie's words died off as did her steps as she came to a stop a couple of feet from you. You didn't have to look up to know her eyes were fixed on the ring as well.

You room was heavy with silence before you finally forced yourself to look up at her. You could feel tears forming behind your eyes already. Her gaze shifted from the ring to you and you immediately noticed the shimmering of her eyes.

She visibly swallowed and when she spoke her voice trembled just so despite the faint smile she tried to force. "Hey, what's going on?"

You inhaled as you shifted in your seat to face her. You went to speak, but your throat constricted with impending emotion and your lip began to quiver as tears threatened to fall.

"I'm sorry," you managed to say as you looked up at her. She dropped your gaze, eyes shifting to the floor and you noted how her hands balled tightly into fists as she tried to control her emotions. Her eyes remained transfixed on the floor and you repeated yourself, your voice wavering this time. "I'm sorry, Jess."

She didn't say anything right away and you were about to speak when a tear fell from her, catching the light from the room before it hit the ground.

She looked up at you, eyes brimming with tears and looking so crestfallen. Her cheeks were flushed red; you reflected idly on how there was a time when you'd have inspired that in her as a blush, now here you were breaking her heart.

Your shoulders shook as your own tears began to overtake you. You sniffled and began to speak, feeling the need to explain and to fill this aching silence.

"It's not that I don't love you. I love you more than I've ever loved anyone. You're everything I could ever want," your voice rose in pitch as your vocal cords strained. "But I just feel like every day - at one point or another - my heart is getting broken over and over again. I thought I'd be able to fix things. To just get over things. But I haven't. And I'm just starting to feel numb. I-I just don't know what to do anymore."

Jessie's breathing hitched as she began to muster a response, but you forged on feeling like if you didn't say everything you needed to now, you'd just fall back into her arms and that's where you'd stay.

"You have a new life. A new family-" You saw her ready to interject and you cut her off "-it's true, Jess. I know I'm your family, too. But so is Zoie. And Sara. I know you try to dismiss your connection with her, but you are tied to her forever. And I know you don't want to give her precedence over me, but reality is, she's the mother of your child and always will be. You need to put Zoie first, and by proxy, at times Sara - and I can't fault you for that. Your duty and your dedication to your loved ones is one of the many things about you I fell in love with," you forced a laugh as tears fell. You looked at her sadly.

"You gained a family. And I feel like I lost one. It's no one's fault. Maybe that's what makes it so hard." You took a shaky breath. "I think I would've handled this better if I'd come in knowing you had this. But for it to come up the way it has...it's turned everything upside down for me and I just don't know how to right it. I wish I did," you said remorsefully as you dropped her gaze and blinked through more tears. Your hands shook as you wrung them before looking up at her.

"I just don’t feel like I fit anymore. I’ve been trying. I want nothing more than a future with you, but it just doesn’t feel right anymore.”

Jessie had been crying quietly as she listened to you speak. Her face was red, her cheeks tear-stained as her chest hitched now and then with unsteady breaths.

Surprise flooded your system and she knelt in front of you. Here she was, on bended knee, taking your hands in hers, sorrow in her eyes and such a contrast from when she knelt before you in much the same way many months before, except that time with unhindered hope and love as she asked you to be hers forever.

“Please don’t do this. I know it’s hard right now. But we can find a way. It’ll get better. And easier. I promise," Jessie beseeched as she looked up at you from her position on the floor.

You didn't know what to say. There wasn't really anything to say. So you just smiled apologetically, hoping she could see how much this was breaking your heart as well.

Jessie searched your eyes and you saw her expression fall furthermore as she cried anew. She clutched your hands as quiet sobs began to take her.

“I’m so sorry. For everything. I never wanted this to happen," she said through her cries. It tore you apart seeing her like this, but in some bizarre way it actually affirmed your decision. You squeezed her hands, caressing the back of them tenderly with your thumbs.

“I know, baby. But I guess this is just how life is. Things can be unexpected. And they don’t always go the way you planned. And this is exactly why this won’t work. You shouldn’t have to feel sorry. You shouldn’t have to apologize. You have a gorgeous, sweet little girl. And there’s nothing wrong with that. At all. She deserves all of you and you shouldn't have to choose. And I know I'm the one who's been forcing you to."

You paused, trying to gather your composure, but your voice was still taut as you spoke.

"I'm sorry I'm so selfish. But I also know I'd never forgive myself if Zoie got even the slightest sense that any of this...strife, or difficulty, was because of her. She doesn't deserve that and it's certainly not her fault."

Jessie looked ready to protest. You forged on.

"I truly wish the best for you and for Zoie. And even Sara," you added with a watery laugh before you sniffled. "I know it hasn't been easy navigating things, Jess. I know how hard you tried. And it meant so much that you tried." You let out a brief sob. "Thank you for loving me." Jessie's face collapsed in tears as you said that and she reached up to cup your cheek. You couldn't resist leaning into her touch, but you had to finish what you had to say.

"I stopped wishing that I had gotten to you first. Then you'd be mine, and we could have our old life, or God, that it would be our child we're raising. But even that didn't feel good, because then Zoie wouldn't exist. And that's not right. She's added so much light and love to your life, to your family's - and despite the complications, mine too. I just can't embrace everything the way you have. I can't let go of what I wanted."

You took a shaky breath.

"To be honest - I just don't like who I am right now. How I've been feeling. What I'm bringing to our relationship. So," your features screwed up as you tried to put on a brave face, "it's time for me to go."

Jessie shook her head with a pained expression.

"No, you don't have to. Babe, please," she pleaded as more tears fell, "we can figure this out. I know you feel like you don't fit anymore, but you really do. What can I do to help you see that?" You let her question hang and she stared at you expectantly. She tried to smile, but it flickered with the heartache she was feeling. "We belong together. We love each other."

She said it with such finality it almost convinced you that it was enough.

You looked at her with the first real smile in what felt like so long. You were crying through it, but it was real.

"You deserve so much happiness," you said.

Jessie searched your eyes as she absorbed your words. A sob escaped her and she looked down. A moment passed and she leant her head down and kissed your hand, her lips lingering on your skin for several seconds before she pulled back.

She swallowed visibly as she brought her other hand to yours now as well, clasping yours in both of hers. Her eyes were still trained down as she nodded once. A beat passed and she looked up at you, brown eyes glistening and mournful, but somehow still full of love. She nodded once more as she gave you as brave a smile as she could, no matter how heartbroken she was.

"You deserve all the happiness in the world, too," she whispered, voice breaking.

She rose up higher onto her knees and you both met in a soft, tight embrace. Cries wracked your body and hers as you clung onto one another. You inhaled her scent, eyes closing as you willed yourself to remember it; to remember the feel of her hair, the sound and feel of her breath, the feel of her body against yours - you engrained it all.

---------

Sometimes, when a relationship ends, you don't know how the other person will be. Someone who you felt you knew so well can become a stranger overnight. But, that wasn't the case with Jessie.

She was gracious and loving despite the breakup. So much so that sometimes you had to remind her - as painful as it was - that you didn't belong to each other anymore.

"Hey, I'll be home late night. Midfielders are doing some extra technical work this afternoon. I'll text you when I'm done though. I could bring you home dinner or something though?" She'd asked hopefully one time as you both readied for the day.

"That's sweet of you to offer, but it's okay. And it's considerate, but you don't need to keep me apprised of your day. You don't owe me that," you gently reminded her. She gave you a tight, pained smile as she nodded her acceptance.

"Right," she said with a weak laugh. "Well. I guess I'll see you later, then. Um. Have a good day."

The few weeks until you could take possession of a new apartment had been awkward and delicate. You offered to move in with a friend in the interim, but Jessie had convinced you not to. Well, she wasn't wrong that living out of a suitcase for that long would be unnecessarily annoying, and there was certainly no point in moving all of your things twice. So, you'd stayed, with Jessie insisting on relegating herself to an air mattress in the living room. You'd argued with her, but she'd dug her heels in.

The days went by slowly, and at the same time, your move in date grew steadily closer and the pit in your stomach grew just the same. You'd had cold feet several times, but knew it was just some misguided part of you looking for the easy path and short-term pay-off.

It was hard to not have doubts when - despite everything - you and Jessie still got along so well. While it was undeniably hard to be in the same room as her and not be with her, it was still easy in a way. When you allowed yourself, you could chat about your days, even laugh.

What caused the most confusion was probably the fact that you didn't know how to be Jessie's friend. Even when you and her had been just friends at the beginning - a lifetime ago now - there was always something underlying. You had chemistry from the get-go and it was near impossible to deny.

And now, after everything, how could you possibly pretend to just be friends. How could you pretend you weren't in love with her? How could you pretend that this woman sitting a couple feet from you on the couch didn't preoccupy your every thought and could make or break you with her words.

Hell, that not only did she own your heart and mind, but your body, too. That as you laid there lonely in this bed you used to share, that your hand strayed as memories flooded your senses. Of all those nights, mornings, stolen moments, where she made love to you so passionately and desperately. The feeling so intimate and tender, like you were the only person on this earth with her and you the only one who could give her what she needed while she was the only one who could make you whole.

And with the way she looked at you - sometimes unabashed, sometimes fleeting - how could you pretend that she didn't feel the same way?

During moments of weakness, it seemed a silly thing to fight. In a world as dark and lonely as this one could be, why would you leave someone you loved and who loved you back?

But when Jessie spent nights coordinating things with Sara and then went out with her and Zoie on others, you remembered.

The day came when you took possession of your new apartment. You'd initially resisted her offer to help you move, but your resolve weakened and failed.

She'd worn a bright smile all day as she cheerfully tackled every task. You knew her well though; she was trying far too hard.

She helped you arrange furniture, move boxes around, check all the fixtures in the new place, the list went on. Even after you'd dismissed your friends, she'd insisted on sticking around and began helping you unpack.

Her eager assistance carried on into the night. Each time she finished one task, she readily started on another and good-naturedly dismissed your offers to let her stop.

As she chatted fast and constant throughout the night, hitting any and every topic she could, you saw this woman before you - the woman you well and truly loved - making every excuse to not leave. And truthfully, you were happy to delay the inevitable goodbye.

So for now, you both knew what she was doing, but neither of you vocalized it.

You eventually checked your phone. 12:30 am.

"Okay, so I was thinking of unpacking your books over here for now. I saw this really nice bookcase online the other day - I can get it for you over the weekend if you like. I think it could go really well over here. And-"

"Jess."

Her movements stilled and the room grew silent and heavy. She slowly turned to face you and you could see her thinly veiled trepidation.

You offered her a regretful smile as you fought back emotions and grief that began to bubble up inside of you.

"You should go...," you said gently.

She held your gaze for several moments, seemingly teetering on the edge of whether to protest or not. She nodded sadly and forced a smile that faltered as her eyes began to fill with tears.

She forced a laugh as she closed the space between you.

"It's a nice place. Could use some colour, but I know you'll take care of that," she said as she scratched nervously at the back of her neck and gave another weak laugh.

"Thanks for all of your help. Truly," you said.

Her eyes brimmed with tears and her mouth quivered faintly. "Anytime," she said, voice thick with emotion.

She stared at you a moment longer before exhaling, puffing out her cheeks before trying to choke back tears. "I know we're not together. But," she paused, debating her words, "I really do love you. I know you can't make any promises, but, if you're open to it I want you in my life." A quiet sob veiled as a laugh escaped her. "I don't know what my life looks like without you."

"I love you, too, Jessie," you said. You couldn't lie about that.

She embraced you and you held each other tightly in a lingering, tearful hug. Neither of you wanted to be the first to let go.

You eventually conceded and gingerly, regretfully, extracted yourself from her arms. Her fingers lingered as long as she could let them before you stepped back.

You gave her a watery smile.

"Take care of yourself, Jessie."

The statement seemed to wound her, but she covered it up with a tight smile.

"You too."

As you stood before her, a brief recollection came to you of a time long past; your first date. Even then, you knew with absolutely certainty you were going to see her again. As soon as possible if you could help it.

For the first time since the beginning, you didn't know if or when you'd see her again.

You gave her another quick hug, yet again committing her and everything about her to memory.

"I'll see you," you said softly as you hugged her. "And we'll talk soon. Good night, Jess."

Her cheek brushed against yours as she slowly pulled back. Her eyes shone with fresh tears. She opened her mouth to speak, but closed it, offering you a renewed smile instead.

"Good night, Y/N."

----

A/N: I did say that things would get a lot rougher before they got better. Let me know your thoughts.

Tag requests: @marvelwomen-simp @valuyhh

[zepskies]

Oh yay!! Thank you so much, Wayne!! 🥹 LOLL I'm so glad you vibe with my humor because I had so much fun writing this. 🤣🤣

That already took me out. First two lines. Bravo. You've done it 🤣 I'm guessing this is post Chuck lmao

ahahaha thank you!! It certainly could be. That's also what I like about doing headcanons -- for the most part you can imagine it happening at any point/setting you feel is right.

You know why I picked it 😝 (👏👏👏) And not the flannel and the runny nose, yikes. Loved this exchange (and callback) lol

Oh I knew you'd pick up on that one! loll

Took a brief second from laughing, so I could push tears out of my eyes 😭 But absolutely agree, you'd have to wear Dean down and force him into it lmao

Awww a quick switch up from comedy to feels there. 🥹 I just love some hurt/comfort and fluff with Dean. Oh yeah--you'd definitely have to wear him down! loll

Back to laughing. My God, that was the sneeze of the century 😂😂

Mutually exclusive, obviously 🤷‍♀️

lol right? Germs don't care if you have a full plate at work today. 🙄

Seems like the man flu hasn't swallowed the charm either 🥰

Ha! I feel like Beau would try to still have a good attitude about it, at least at first. 😂

And that's the moment I realized Beau's like my husband when he's sick 😂 (🙄) It's like you were in my house and wrote a transcript of the last man flu epidemic of 2024 😆🤌

Ooooh my God, your man is a Beau!!! 😭😭 That's so hilarious (but also my condolences lmaooo).

(girl you're the BEST at finding gifs 👌🏽)

And oh my God you're so right about those Beau "add-ons." The "very weird right here" specifically took me out. 💀💀

Oh and then, Ben. Ben, Ben, Ben, Ben... I thought for sure he'd be the worst, like this virus is a personal attack on his virility 🤣 But I was pleasantly surprised when you brought in memories of his mother 🥹😭

LOLL that could've certainly been a way to go with him! But I'm so glad you liked that little window of vulnerability there. 💜💜

That immediate fuck got me so hard 🤣🤣

lmfaoo that's how you know it's serious work. 🤣 That fuck came straight from the center of his phlegmy chest.

Ah, yes, gramps 😂🫶 (And he honestly shares that with a lot of old man in hospitals and nursing homes who have to be repeatedly told to stay in bed lol)

Oh my God lol such a good point. 😂😂 Maybe we should get him a life alert. 🚨

He is a brat for real, making himself feel better by doing some online shopping now that he knows how to operate the Internet lmao.

Oh God, all their bickering was amazing! It's honestly always one of the most fun things when writing SB – the sheer frustration of the reader 😭😂🙈

ahaha pulling straight from BMD world on that one. 🤣 That's literally the best thing about writing SB -- all the snappy bickering and the frustration and his cockiness. 🫠

And I loved the addition of Priestly!! 😍💚💙🤘 (I've been thinking of finally writing that one-shot for him lol)

OMG please do!! I would love to see what you'd come up with for Priestly. 😭 He's suck an adorkable, loveable dude. He deserves great writers like you making stories for him. 💓

I could also totally see him turning into a Monica there 😂

Oh, oh, thank God! The relief I felt 😂 I mean, it's so, so sweet, but also you're very sick, dude, and germy... like, it's a lot 😆 (And I also sincerly hope there will be a proposal follow-up one-shot/drabble... maybe? 👀)

Right?! lol very sweet sentiment, but not the right time. 😂

Ooooh you intrigue me, hun. 🥰🤔 I might have to sketch an idea for that follow-up!

Thank you so much for your thoughts on these HCs, Wayne! You made my day. 🥰💜💜

HEADCANON: Man Flu

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Reader || Beau Arlen x Reader || Soldier Boy/Ben x Reader || Boaz Priestly x Reader

HC: When Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, Soldier Boy (Ben), and Boaz Priestly get sick, how would they act when you (try to) take care of them?

AN: After reading I Got You by @bettystonewell (Dean x Reader) and The Best Kind of Medicine by @lamentationsofalonelypotato (Soldier Boy x Reader), I realized that I've never actually written a sick-fic before. Here it is in headcanon form, since you guys seem to like these! lol 💜

Also adding Priestly to this lineup for the first time because some of you have been requesting more of him recently. 😉

Tags/Warnings: Established relationship, hurt/comfort, sick-fic, some needy affection-starved men who don't want to admit they're needy, lots of fluff.~

Dean Winchester

He's not sick. Because he doesn't get sick.

Dean claims he has the constitution of a horse, but you still take the beer out of his hand before he can take a sip at 10:00 a.m.

He's too busy interrupting himself, namely by coughing half a lung, wheezing, blinking teary eyes -- the whole phlegmy nine yards.

Sam shakes his head, casting you a look that frankly says, Good luck.

He knows his brother is stubborn as hell, and one of the things Dean dislikes most is being fussed over for "no reason." Being seen as weak. Not being able to just shrug his shoulders and shake it off.

To be fair, Dean tries. Except this time it's accompanied by a body shiver and a reluctant sniffle. His pallid face is drawn, and his usually strong and solid frame looks unsteady as he leans a hand on the War Room table.

"Okay, come on, Rambo. Let's get you back into bed," you say, guiding your boyfriend back to the room you share with him.

"I'm find," he insists, even as he begrudgingly accepts the gentle pressure of your hand on his back and shoulder, pushing him down to the bed.

"Sure you are, baby," you say with a smirk. "You're in the primb of libe."

Dean shoots you a narrowed look. Damn you for forcing him to binge-watch all those episodes of Friends late at night when you both can't sleep.

Right now he's Monica, trying to convince you he's in tip-top shape, while you're Chandler, just trying to get him to use tissues instead of his flannel sleeve to wipe his runny nose.

After taking his boots off, you get him to change out of his jeans and back into his sweatpants. Then you manage to get him to lay down under the covers with the promise of coming back with medicine and soup.

"I don't want soup, damn it," he grumbles. You just roll your eyes and rub his arm.

"Just rest. I'll be back with the Vicks."

As you might expect, Dean is not an easy patient.

He refuses to drink tea, but he does down the pills you bring for him, with a measured toss of his head that still makes his head swim. He groans.

He swallows a couple of cautious spoonfuls of the soup, pausing when he realizes that its warmth actually feels good down his sore and scratchy throat. It tastes pretty good too, especially with the warm, buttered slices of bread on the side.

"You made this?" he asks.

"Mhmm," you nod, smiling. If nothing else, good food will pacify this man. "Chicken and wild rice, made especially for you."

"Hmm. S' good," he nods in reply. He manages to finish the bowl.

He has to admit, if just to himself, that he does feel like shit.

He won't admit that the way you're rubbing his back, the gentle pressure of your nails between his shoulders and down his spine relaxes him, makes him feel better.

He knows that you care about him. That you love him. But this is one of those moments where it hits him, just how much.

It's a little overwhelming. A heavy swell of pressure fills his chest, so he tries not to let himself think about it for very long.

(He fails.)

After he's done eating, you take the plates away and help him back into bed. You linger there, slipping your fingers through his soft brown hair and pressing a kiss to his clammy forehead.

"I really need you to rest, okay," you say quietly. "If you need anything, just text me or Sam. Don't get out of bed."

Dean grasps your hand before you can move away from him. Since you're probably going to wash your hands anyway, he lays a kiss on the back of your hand.

"Thanks, sweetheart."

Beau Arlen

Sheriff Beau Arlen is the type to run himself into the ground because he's so damn into his work.

He wants to do well in his station of responsibility, and he feels like he has to make up for his performance during the summer madness of Buck Barnes and Avery...and everything in between.

You just have to make Beau realize that he needs to slow down, before he well and truly burns himself out.

You put your foot down one morning.

He tries to get out of bed but has to pause, his head swimming. He takes a couple of steadying breaths while sitting on the edge of the bed.

You notice with a frown. "Hey, you okay?"

"Fine. Just fine," he answers a little too breathlessly. He raises a hand to his head. His throat is sticky and coarse. He wrinkles his nose when he also feels a sneeze coming on.

"Just need a...a...mugh-ah-ha-hugh."

His coughing sneeze makes you grimace. You didn't even know someone could sneeze and cough at the same time.

"Aw, babe. You're sick," you say as you move over to him, resting a hand on his back. He shakes his head and groans.

"Nah, can't be sick. Gotta lot of work to do today," he says. His voice is like gravel blended with broken glass. It would actually be sexy, if for the distinctly un-sexy way he tries to clear the great wad of phlegm from his throat.

He tries to rock himself onto his feet, but there he sways on the landing. You hurry out of bed to grab his arm and steady him.

"Oh no, you don't. Back into bed," you say.

"Aw, sweetheart. I'll be fine--"

"No. Lay down. You're not going in today," you say more firmly, all while you tuck the man back into bed with the blankets covering him.

"All right, all right. No need to be so pushy," he can't help but tease.

It earns a small smirk on your face. It seems like his man flu hasn't yet deprived him of his sense of humor.

"I thought you liked that though," you reply. You sit on the edge of the bed and rub his chest. He groans in defeat.

"Can't believe this," he grumbles. "Today of all days--"

"There's always going to be another case. This is your body telling you that you need to slow down," you tell him. "So how about this. I'm gonna call in one of my sick days, and we'll bunker in together."

You stroke his bearded cheek. He quirks a smile, grabbing your hand and squeezing warmly.

"How long until I'm allowed out, warden?" he asks.

"Until you can stand without keeling over," you dryly reply. A smile tugs at your lips. "Remind me to stop by CVS to grab you a Life Alert."

"All right, har har haugh--" His sarcasm ends on a very real, wheezing cough. Your amused smile drops. You relent from your teasing and stroke his chest once more.

"Okay, just rest. Let me get you some actual medicine and I'll be right back."

He stops you by grabbing your wrist. "Hey, uh...can I have some chicken noodle soup later?"

"Of course, baby. I'll swing by the store now and get some stuff for you."

"And some saltines?"

"Saltine crackers on the side. Got it."

You're about to head to the bathroom to brush your teeth before you start getting ready to go to the store, but once again, Beau's needy hand stops you.

"Before you go, some tea with honey and lemon would be good. Just something for my throat," he croaks.

You smile and nod. "Yeah, for sure. That'll be better for you than coffee."

"Oh, and can you gimme that quilt over there?" he asks, pointing to your favorite knitted blanket at the edge of the bed. You graciously lay it over his form and drop a kiss onto his forehead.

"And some cough drops. Thank you, darlin'," Beau adds.

Your lips begin to press together, but you nod and continue getting dressed.

You can already tell this man is going to settle into you taking care of him just fine.

Soldier Boy (Ben)

Neither of you thought it was possible, considering his super genes that allowed him to eat and booze and drug harder than Andre the Giant and Keith Richards put together.

But one day, your over six-foot super soldier goes down hard. The warning signs came the night before, when you could hardly sleep with the way he was snoring like a grizzly bear.

In the morning, he wakes bleary-eyed with a runny nose and a coughing fit hard enough to shake the bed.

"Fuck," he groans, dragging a hand over his face before he turns onto his back. "This's gotta be some kind of bullshit hangover."

You move over to him in bed and feel the intense warmth of his clammy forehead. Your brows draw together in concern.

"No, I think you're sick."

"Not possible," he grumbles. "I haven't been sick since..."

Well, since he was a kid, probably. He won't admit it, but he's surprised he still has that memory lodged in the back of his mind.

It comes to the forefront now: your hand on his cheek unknowingly mimics his mother's gentle touch, her soft, kind voice.

"Aw, my sweet boy. Let's get you feeling better."

He can almost recall the floral scent of her perfume, echoes of it in the shampoo you use.

Ben claims he's fine, that he doesn't need your help or want the medicine and tea you bring for him. (He tries the tea, grimaces, and spits it out when you're not looking.)

He's a sourpatch grumbly patient who only begrudgingly stays put in bed when you ask him to. He doesn't mind lying around and watching movies all day, not to mention episode after episode of Below Deck. It reminds him that he wants to get back into boating.

"Hey, sweetheart," he calls to you from the bedroom, his voice croaking all the while. "I'm getting you a yacht for Valentine's Day. You want it all white, or throw in a bit of gold? Actually, check out this one with the navy trim."

You roll your eyes to yourself when you step back into the room. You're carrying a tray with a large bowl of soup and a fifth of whiskey. He claims the latter will help soothe his throat, and you don't have the heart to argue with him when he's clearly feeling so shitty.

"You mean you're getting you a yacht," you reply wryly. "We live in the city. Where the hell would we put a boat?"

"In a yacht club, where it belongs," Ben retorts. He hooks an arm around your waist and peruses what you've brought him on the tray. He doesn't look all that interested.

"Look, I know you're not exactly a soupy kinda guy, but this'll make you feel better," you say.

"Why can't you put some fucking steak in it or something?" he grouses. He tries and fails to hide another wet cough.

"Why can't you just eat what I lovingly made, just for you," you snipped back.

He rolls his eyes at your attitude, but he pipes down. In that silence, he's conceding that you have a point. There was a time were all he had to do was glance in someone's direction, and there'd be some fucking moron to fulfill his every whim.

Now, you're probably the only one in the world that would actually do what you're doing...

Cooking for him, putting your heart into it, for the simple reason that you do care.

Ben takes the bowl of soup from your hands. Raising a brow, you offer him the spoon as well.

He eats without further complaint.

You smile and reward him with a sweet kiss on his forehead, brushing his hair back as you do so.

"See? That's not so hard, huh?" you can't help but needle him. "It's okay, baby. I'll take care of you."

He eyes you dryly, but he won't admit that there's a different kind of warmth coiling in his chest.

Boaz Priestly

"Uuuughhh, babe," he groans. "I feel like death on toast."

You're standing beside the bed with a smile playing on your lips. You brush back his for once un-gelled hair back from his face. It's weird to see it all limp and lifeless, slightly damp with sweat.

"Unironically, I should make you some toast," you reply. "What kind of medicine do we have?"

Priestly unearths his head from under his pillow to look up at you with miserable red-rimmed eyes and a sniffling, stuffy nose. "Can we count the tequila in the mini bar?"

"Maybe later," you laugh. "How are we on groceries?"

Priestly struggles to think. He takes your hand and rubs it back and forth across his chest. Maybe your sweet, loving touch has the power to clear away his congestion without him needing Vicks. Too minty.

"We have that pastrami I brought back from the shop," he says.

"That's six days old already," you shake your head.

"Aw, that's still good," he argues. "But uh, other than that, I think I have half a cheeseburger left from last night."

Last night's date at TGI Friday's, he means.

You heave a sigh. "Okay, clearly I'm going to the store. You just stay in bed and rest. Drink your tea."

He grimaces like a child. "I don't like tea."

"I know you don't like tea, but you need to drink it. It's good for your throat and your immune system."

He groans and flops back over onto his stomach. You bite your lip against a smile. He's such a whiny baby when he's sick.

Talk about Man Flu.

"Come on, be a good boy for me," you say, smacking him lightly on the ass. "Soon enough you'll feel better."

A smile creeps across his face where it's pressed against his pillow.

"Know what would really make me feel better?" he hedges. He tries to guide you down to him by tugging on your hand, but you resist him.

"Oh, no. You're not gonna get your germs all over me," you say.

"Hey, what happened to in sickness and in health?" he croaks. Even while under the weather, he's still plenty strong enough to grapple with you. He manages to yank you down. Laughing, you stumble into a seat on the edge of the bed.

"Huh, I don't remember exchanging any vows. You see a ring on this finger?" you tease, flashing your bare hand in his face to try and distract him and weasle out of his grip. "I can jump this ship anytime I want."

Priestly pouts. His arm hooks tighter around your waist. "Huh, guess you got me there..."

He turns his head and coughs roughly into his arm. Your amusement fades into concern and sympathy. You lay a hand over his chest while he struggles.

Once again, he clasps his free hand over yours. He glances up a bit hesitantly into your eyes.

"Well, maybe it's time there should be something on this finger," he murmurs.

You blink your eyes wider. Your head tilts, wondering if you just heard him right. Is this delirium fever talking, or is he serious?

"O-Oh yeah?" you ask.

Priestly tries to gauge your reaction. Seeing your face break out into a cute, shy smile raises the corners of his lips. Hope blooms in his chest, right beneath your hand.

"Yeah," he says, trying to clear his cracking throat. "I mean, if you're okay with that. If it's not too soon--"

You slip your fingers over his plush, chapped lips, and your smile brightens.

"When you're feeling better, you can ask me that question properly."

AN: 😆 I hope you liked the first ever addition of Priestly!! It was so fun to try and write him again (it's been a while lol). Feel free to imagine this vignette in the same storyverse as The Miracle Man and Code Red.

But I also hope you enjoyed the "Big 3," as I call them, even though Russell is starting to give Beau a run for his money on one of those slots. 😂 Let me know which guy you had the most fun reading on this one! 💜

And if you want even more fluff before Valentine's Day, check out my friend @waynes-multiverse who just posted her set of V-Day headcanons with Dean, Soldier Boy, Beau, and Russell: Headcanon: Valentine's Day 💕

Join My Patreon 🌟 Get early access to new stories, bonus content, and first looks at upcoming stories, send me requests, and more!

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[suzukiblu]

Day two of February’s third weekly WIP behind the cut; “interdimensional kidnapping via Robin”. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

Kon cries a lot harder; hard enough he clearly can’t talk past it, hard enough to shake with it, and like–he’s not a small kid, honestly. He’s the smallest that Tim’s ever seen a version of Kon, yes, but he’s pretty big for his physiological age. Which, like–not surprising that he would be, really. He’s definitely in the expected top percentile for a ten year-old, if not over the expected top percentile. Tim would put him somewhere between 4’10” and 5’ and at probably a good hundred pounds or so, which puts him maybe nine to seven inches shorter than Tim himself is and maybe, like, forty-five or fifty pounds lighter. So . . . about seventy percent of his own body weight, give or take. And Tim probably has a concussion and at least a couple broken ribs, and definitely has plenty of cuts and abrasions and bruises deep enough that he doesn’t even want to think about how long it’s going to be until he’s field-ready again. 

He doesn’t do goddamn Bat-level training to not be able to pick up and carry a crying kid no matter what condition he’s personally in, though.

Tim scoops Kon up into his arms and the kid makes a startled little noise about it that cracks through one of his sobs, then grabs the front of his suit just next to the “R” decal tight enough that the body armor creaks and buies his face in his neck to cry even harder. He doesn’t hold onto him any more than that, but he’s still as close to clinging to him as he can get. 

Well–no, his TTK is definitely clinging to him, whether his actual physical body is or not. 

Tim wonders exactly how many times this kid’s been held by someone–at least how many times that he remembers being held by someone, anyway–but all things considered is pretty sure he wants the answer to be “none”. If Luthor really is the only person that this version of Kon remembers ever having been touched by . . . 

Yeah. Tim definitely wants the answer to be “none”, ugly as that thought is. 

“S-sorry,” Kon gasps brokenly into his neck. “M’sorry, m’s-sorry, I d-don’t–I dunno why, I–I can’t s-s-stop, I–” 

“It’s alright, kid,” Tim says, and doesn’t let his voice get any tighter. Really, it’s impressive Kon didn’t fall apart sooner. Or . . . depressing, maybe. “I’m just gonna carry you for a bit now. Just tell me if you want down, okay?” 

“I don’t,” Kon sobs, his TTK going tight. “Don’t put me down, don’t–please.” 

“Okay,” Tim says, and fucking hates Lex Luthor. 

He walks the rest of the way to the marina with Kon curled up in his arms and crying into his neck; digging his fingers into his body armor and his TTK into all of his bruises. Tim might need to do some repairs on the armor later but is really not concerned about it right now. It’s just a footnote to take care of before he tries to go on patrol in this specific suit again, that’s all. It already needed some fixing up anyway, after spending seventy-six hours going through the wringer in a reality that shitty. 

Also, like, he guesses he needs some fixing up after that too, admittedly. 

[wolvietxt]

𝓵ate 𝓷ight laundromat.

pairing : frank castle x fem!reader warnings : petnames, fluff, kinda open ended summary : you and frank keep running into each other at the 24-hour laundromat in your apartment complex. he’s always there at odd hours, folding his black t-shirts and watching you over the rim of his coffee cup. wc : 2.0k a/n : take a shot every time i mention the coffee cup ALSO i wanna write a part two for this :3

you’ve lived in the same apartment complex for almost a year now, but it wasn’t until the past couple of weeks that you started noticing frank. the first time you bumped into him was in the 24-hour laundromat in the basement, the one you’d barely ever given much thought to. you were there late one night after work, lugging a bag of laundry that felt ten times heavier than it should have. the laundromat, tucked away in the corner of the building, was empty except for a guy hunched over his laundry. his black t-shirts were neatly folded in a pile beside him, and his movements were methodical - almost precise. he didn’t notice you at first. you just slid your quarters into the machine, quietly setting your basket down, your eyes drifting over to him.

when he finally looked up, his eyes caught yours for a second - brief but intense - before he quickly went back to folding, like he wasn’t sure what to do with the moment. it wasn’t uncomfortable. in fact, it made your heart flutter a little. maybe it was the way his dark, messy hair framed his face or the simple fact that he was actually doing something productive at 2 a.m. while the rest of the world slept.  

you didn’t really know what to say. you weren’t even sure if he was the type of guy who liked to chat in a laundromat of all places, so you kept to yourself. the only noise between you two was the soft hum of the dryers, the occasional clink of coins, and the rustling of fabric. you glanced at him again when you tossed your clothes in, and this time, he seemed to notice, because he met your gaze for a longer moment before offering a small nod.  

"hey," he said gruffly, his voice low. “you, uh, come here a lot?”  

you blinked, caught off guard by the question. you hadn’t expected him to talk, especially not first.  

"yeah," you said, smiling a little awkwardly. "guess i’m a bit of a night owl."  

he smirked at that, the corners of his mouth turning up just enough to make his rough demeanor seem less intimidating. “me too.”  

from that point on, you saw him regularly. every time you found yourself at the laundromat at odd hours, he seemed to be there too. it was as if your schedules had aligned by some strange cosmic coincidence, and while it was a little strange at first, you started to look forward to it. you’d do your laundry, he’d do his, and once in a while, when the machines were humming their last spin, he’d take a sip from his coffee mug, glancing up at you over the rim.  

the two of you didn’t talk much at first, but the little moments began to add up. one night, when your dryer stopped halfway through its cycle, you found yourself holding a basket of wet clothes, unsure what to do. frank must’ve seen the look of slight panic on your face because he got up, moved over to your dryer, and with a soft grunt, nudged the start button for you.  

“thanks,” you muttered, surprised at how easily he moved around you.  

“no problem, sweetheart,” he said, a quiet chuckle escaping him.  

you blinked at that. sweetheart?  

he didn’t seem to notice your surprise, too busy folding his t-shirts with the kind of focus that made it clear he was used to being alone during these late-night laundromat sessions.  

after that, frank would occasionally drop in a petname - sweetheart, sugar - nothing that felt overly intimate, but enough to make you feel a little warmer every time he said it. and you found yourself wanting to hear it more.  

you were always busy in the mornings, so the nights became the only time you felt like you had any real freedom, and you found yourself thinking about him more and more. how quiet he was. how kind he seemed underneath that gruff exterior.  

there was one night - late as always - that you walked into the laundromat, tired from your shift, only to find frank already there, as usual. he was sipping coffee, and his gaze lifted just enough to meet yours when you stepped inside.  

“late night, huh?” he said with a slight nod, his voice warm in the cool, quiet space.  

“yeah,” you replied, walking over to the machines. “never seems to stop, does it?”  

“nope,” he said, his lips curling into that soft, barely-there smile that you were starting to look forward to. “but i don’t mind. keeps things interesting.”  

and as you loaded your clothes into the machine, you realized you didn’t mind either. there was something oddly comforting about the routine of it all. seeing frank at these weird hours, sharing these quiet, small moments with him.  

you smiled to yourself, feeling a little lighter. a little less alone.  

the following weeks blurred together in a rhythm that felt surprisingly comforting. your late-night laundromat rendezvous with frank had become more than just coincidence; they’d become part of your routine. at first, you only exchanged small words and quiet glances, but something about the way frank looked at you - how his gaze softened over the rim of his coffee cup - made you want to stay just a little longer each time.  

you couldn’t explain it. you didn’t even know him all that well, but there was something undeniably magnetic about his presence. it wasn’t just his quiet confidence or the way he folded his shirts so meticulously. it was how he paid attention to you in a way that no one else did. it was the small, subtle things - the way he always made sure you were okay with the machines, the way he’d hold the door open for you without making a fuss about it.  

and you started noticing the little things about him too. how he always wore those faded band shirts that looked as if they’d been washed a hundred times, how his dark hair fell in messy waves that seemed like they were made to be ruffled. that was, until he buzzed it again. you started to realize that you weren’t just looking forward to the laundry, you were looking forward to seeing frank.  

it wasn’t long before you started finding excuses to stay later than you normally would, letting your clothes dry just a little longer, lingering in the laundromat for an extra few minutes just to be in the same space as him. frank never pushed you, though. he was the same calm, collected guy he’d always been - quiet but not distant, a little reserved but never cold.  

one night, after a particularly busy day, you found yourself at the laundromat again. the room was empty except for the usual hum of machines and the low buzz of fluorescent lights. frank was sitting at the small table by the window, his coffee mug in front of him, but this time he wasn’t folding his shirts. instead, his eyes were trained on you, watching you as you loaded your clothes into the dryer.  

you felt his gaze on you, but you didn’t mind it this time. it wasn’t awkward. it felt... familiar.  

“you doing okay?” he asked, breaking the silence, his voice soft but carrying an edge of concern you hadn’t expected.  

you paused, turning to face him, your fingers still hovering over the detergent bottle. “yeah, just a long day. i’m glad i have this to look forward to.”  

frank’s lips twitched up into a small, almost shy smile at that. “i’m glad too, sweetheart.”  

you didn’t think anything of it at first - just the usual friendly banter. but when you sat down at the table across from him, the air between you two seemed to shift, just slightly. it was subtle, but you could feel it.  

“you ever get tired of it?” you asked suddenly, your voice quieter than you meant it to be. “the routine, i mean. coming here every night, doing the same thing.”  

he thought about it for a moment, his brow furrowing slightly as he stared down into his coffee cup. “nah,” he finally said, his voice low but steady. “it’s the little things that keep me going, i guess. even if it’s just... this.”  

you blinked, not sure if he was talking about you or just the laundromat itself, but either way, it made something warm stir inside you. you found yourself staring at him for a little too long, the silence growing comfortable, even welcome.  

“yeah, i get that,” you murmured, feeling the warmth of the moment spread through you. “me too.”  

there was something so effortless about your time together, like the world outside the laundromat didn’t matter as long as you were both there. but that night, you could sense the shift - the way frank wasn’t just going through the motions of laundry anymore. there was a quiet anticipation in the air, a flicker of something unspoken.  

the machines buzzed again, signaling that your cycle was done. you stood up to retrieve your clothes, and frank followed suit, gathering his things with slow, deliberate movements. when you moved to head for the dryer, you bumped into him by accident.  

“oops,” you muttered, stepping back, your heart racing just a little.  

“you good, sweetheart?” frank asked, his voice softer than usual, eyes now scanning your face with a curiosity that made your stomach flutter.  

“yeah,” you said quickly, brushing a lock of hair from your face. “just, uh, tired, i guess.”  

he didn’t say anything right away, but there was something in the way he studied you now - like he was deciding whether to say something more, something real. and then, after a long pause, he spoke, his voice a little unsure but still steady.  

“you ever... wanna get out of here?” he asked, the words coming out slower than he probably intended. his dark eyes were searching yours, and for the first time, you could see the vulnerability there, just beneath the surface. “i mean... not here. not the laundromat. somewhere... different. with me.”  

your heart skipped a beat. was he asking what you thought he was asking?  

you smiled, warmth flooding your chest. “yeah, i’d like that.”  

“good,” he said, looking slightly relieved, though the tension hadn’t quite left his shoulders. he ran a hand through his hair, glancing at you with that same gentle look. “it’s a date then. i’ll, uh, figure it out.”  

you nodded, feeling the weight of the moment settle between you two, like a promise. for the first time, frank looked less like the mysterious guy you saw in the laundromat and more like someone you might want to know better. maybe this routine, these late-night runs, were just the beginning. 

ᰔ frank castle : @stvr-dust, @uncertified-doc, @erospecies

taglist form linked in pinned post :3

[beabnormal24]

63 + carcar?

63. Everybody Knows/Mistaken for Couple 

Carlos has no idea who gave Lando the insane idea to move in the middle of February, but whoever it was it must’ve been someone who really hates people.

It’s so cold that Carlos swears he can’t feel the tip of his own fingers, even through his true leather, double layered, wool padded gloves that he spent at least 50 quids on and are not doing their job properly.

Carlos huffs in frustration and shivers just a tiny little bit under his coat, earning a pointed glare from Oscar beside him. “Could you stop it?”

Leave it to Oscar to be an asshole even in such a deadly situation like standing in the middle of London’s street in February.

“Could you be more sensitive?” Carlos bites back, “I am very cold.”

“I am very cold but I am not making such a fuss.” Oscar snaps. Truthfully, his hands are stuffed in his pockets just like Carlos’, but he is pretty sure they were not covered in gloves.

Oscar has a really white and delicate skin, so they’re probably already all red and covered in frostbites. Carlos does feel a little bad for him, but that doesn’t mean he’ll admit it to Oscar any time soon.

He rolls his eyes, instead, kicking a pebble in the middle of the sidewalk before it gets trapped in the soles of his boots. “I knew that going with Alex would’ve been more fun.” He mumbles, and he knows that he sounds a bit petulant, even childish, but-

Yeah, who cares, it’s Oscar anyway.

“Well, Alex isn’t here and someone had to buy this gift.” Oscar mutters something else under his breath, something that sounds very close to a dickhead, but Carlos is mature enough to pretend he didn’t hear that.

They walk a little bit more next to each other, scanning silently the windowed walls and the trinkets’ displays.

It is true that him and Oscar were the only two with a free Sunday morning to buy the housewarming gifts, but it is also true that they may be the worst ones to be assigned such a errand like buying a housewarming gift.

If it is a housewarming gift then shouldn’t they just buy a heater and be done with it?

Ah, Carlos sometimes wishes someone could laugh at the amazingly funny jokes that he thinks inside his head. He bets Oscar would appreciate them.

“Maybe a plant?” Oscar suggests, thumbing at the arrays of green displayed on their left.

Carlos snorts, “Lando is going to kill them in two days.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

Carlos looks around, furrowing his eyebrows, eyes scanning the electronics shop not too far away, the jewellery one, something that looks way too much like a sexy shop of some sorts, and then-

“Uh, what about that umbrella stand. It looks good.”

Oscar follows his gaze until his eyes fall on the slick black, clearly modernly design object, too. Surprisingly, he immediately hums in approval.

“And then we put a gag gift next to it?”

“Of course.”

"Should we take the black or the white one?"

Carlos pursues his lips, trying to remember the pictures Lando sent on their group chat, of an apartment that could've easily been straight out bought out of an IKEA magazine.

He shrugs, "White, I guess. It's a white kitchen."

"Yeah, but he's not going to put an umbrella stand in the kitchen is he?" Oscar comments dryly. "I think black it's better for the porch outside"

"Why did you ask me for my opinion if you completely ignore it?" Carlos says, feeling just a tad bit offended.

Thankfully, the welcomed warmth of the shop is able to mitigate most of it, and Carlos feels like nothing can bring down his good mood when he can finally feel his fingers come back to life, joints cracking like sandpaper as he curls them.

It's just his luck that the stark difference in temperature from the outside makes a pink hue appear on Oscar's freckled cheeks, making him look very very cute - well, admittedly, he would always be cute if he weren't such a pain in the ass.

"Because I wanted to pretend I value your opinion." Oscar says, rolling his eyes. "If it wasn't clear, I do not."

"Well, if you would only listen to me, you would realise that the walls of the porch are made with white stones, which means that the white stand is clearly the perfect choice." Carlos snaps back, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Mate, it's not a hospital, it's a house, it should have some contrast no?" Oscar says, mirroring his position.

They proceed with a glaring contest mixed with biting, pointed comments about which choice is better between the two, which furtherly proves why they shouldn't have been the only two going for this 'mission' that could as well become a battle with how hard they're fighting each other.

It only, finally, ends when there is a pair of delicate hands perching on their respective shoulders, and when Carlos lowers his gaze from holding Oscar's flaring one, it's to meet the gentle eyes of the elderly woman he is pretty sure was standing behind the counter just a minute ago.

"You two lovely boys, there is no need for such a love quarrell over an umbrella stand." She says gently, pinching Oscar's cheek when he goes to open his mouth in protest, effectively shutting him up.

Carlos, to his credit, is suddenly too stuck on the love quarrell part that seems to be resonating in his head like a badly played drum roll. The only thing that assures him he wasn't the only one to hear that, it's the way Oscar's cheeks have suddenly become even more pink.

"Come on, tell me what's the problem. Let's solve it." The woman says, patting Carlos' shoulder with a bit more fervor than she used to pinch Oscar's cheek. "You're such a good looking couple, don't fight for stupid things, mh?"

Neither of them corrects her.

Oscar, through a very awfully embarrassed stutter, explains the indecision. The woman solves it in under thirty seconds by suggesting they just take the silver one she has in the back of the store, finally settling the argument without even letting them talk one single second more.

"It was this bad with my husband, too, when we first moved in together." She says, jostling the umbrella stand over her counter with much more strength than what her small frame would let on. "But you look like a very beautiful couple, and there is always love even while fighting. I am sure you will last as long as me and my husband did." she adds raising her hand to show the still glinting golden band on her ring finger.

Oscar is stuck as rigid as a tree next to him, so Carlos decides that it must be his job to take the gift and thank the woman generously, accepting the compliments she keeps sending their way as he drags Oscar out of the shop from the elbow.

"Uh, I-" Oscar mutters, not very talkative of him, as soon as they're away from the front window.

"Oscar," Carlos says, slowly, watching as Oscar blinks at him with wide eyes and a pair of red cheeks, even more flushed than before. Something tells Carlos it's not about the temperature, maybe because he personally doesn't feel as cold as before - maybe it's the sudden warmth in his chest. "Are your hands still cold?"

Oscar swallows, looking down at the purplish colour on his knuckles, "Uh, a bit." he admits.

"Okay," Carlos says and before he can think about it more than two seconds, he takes Oscar's hand in his, interlacing their fingers.

Oscar stares at him with wide eyes and a half agape mouth but, surprisingly, he doesn't protest. Rather, his confusion only lasts a moment longer before he is squeezing Carlos' hand back, smiling in what Carlos could even define as shyness.

"Do you want to have lunch before we head to Lando's?" Carlos suggests, completely ignoring the way his heart seems to be doing sudden sommersaults in his ribcage.

Oscar's smile, if possible, becomes even brighter. "Yeah, let's do that."

[pinkkpjobx]

can you do an imagine where jj is obsessed with reader but he’s also very shy around her like he’s always confident and his flirty self with everyone else but with reader he just gets flustered everytime he’s around her. maybe him asking her out or confessing his love for her or something idk

I gotchu babes

warnings: none really, just fluff! not proofread.

notes: yall....i had like all of it written, then Tumblr decided it hates me and deleted all of it, so i had to rewrite it (it did it twice 😭) ...i actually cried.

°♡°

it all began in freshman year, when jj started flirting with every girl to distract himself.

every girl but you. every time he tried, he would stumble over his rehearsed pick-up lines and walk away a blushing mess. he didn't understand it.

he didn't understand you.

until junior year, when he finally realized he liked you. which didn't make a whole lot of sense because the only interaction he had with you (other than the failed attempts at wooing you) were small smiles across the classroom and friendly waves when he just so happened to go surfing at the exact same time as you.

he would be so entranced by the way you balanced on your board as you rode the waves that he would fall off of his. you would look over curiously, unaware of the previous staring. on the rare occasion that he was able to stay up, he would show off and hope that you were looking.

and you were. every time he caught a wave, you were watching him as he did some over the top trick, giggling to yourself as he messed up half the time.

now, you weren't stupid. you knew he liked you, but you wouldn't act on it. not unless he initiated it.

so you started going to the same parties him and hanging out with the pouges in hopes to get closer to jj.

as soon as he would see you at a party, he would find some random girl to hook up with, just so he could leave the party with a reasonable excuse.

as for the pouge hangouts. he would always manage to sit on the opposite side of the room, twinkie, bonfire, you name it.

you were completely fine with it, knowing he needed time. however, the other pouges were not. namely sarah and kie, the other two were dragged into it.

so one surf trip, while you, pope, and jj were in the water, the others were building a fire and ploting. they came up with a plan to get you and jj to sit next to each other and hopefully spark a conversation. then they'd get up and pray that jj would build enough courage to ask you out.

pope, done for the day, swam back to shore, leaving you and jj to ride the next waves.

well, leaving you to ride the waves and jj to watch as he failed to stay up for even one.

after a few more waves (and a couple wipe outs on jj's part), the two of you returned to shore as well.

"some sick waves today." kie said as you sat down next to pope, leaving the last open spot the one on your left.

"best i've seen in a while." pope, responded. the group fell into another comfortable silence as everyone waited for jj to return from the twinkie.

"beer, weed, and marshmallows. or what i like to call, a good time." jj announced his return as he tossed the bag of marshmallows at john b. once he passed out beers, he looked at he empty spot next to you. "uh, yeah! i'll just...i'll just sit here." he sat down next to you, careful not to let his knee or elbow graze you accidentally.

kie and sarah smirked at each other, while pope and john b looked at each other with weary expressions, not quite sure how this would pan out.

"tough waves today, jj? couldn't seem to stay up." kie teased.

he looked down, thankful for the fire infront of him for masking the blush on his cheeks with orange and yellow hues. "not my day, i guess."

"says the best surfer on the island." you complimented.

"that's rich coming from you." he responded, internally patting himself on the back for managing a sentence without stuttering or stumbling over any words.

"i've had off days before." you said, wanting to keep the conversation going.

"y-yeah, but your off days are on the same level as my good days." he looked at you briefly, catching your eyes, before looking back to the fire.

you smile at the compliment. "thank you."

as the conversation continued, he grew more confident in his words. he even started fishing for opportunities. suggesting surf trips, parties, even offering to walk you home that night.

he was so concentrated on not making a fool of himself that he didn't even notice the other pouges leaving.

over by the twinkie, sarah smirked at pope and john b. "told you it would work."

pope smiled over at jj while john b just shook his head. "i shouldn't have doubted you."

'*'*'*'*'*'*'*'*'

"if you could travel anywhere in the world, anywhere, where would you go?" jj asked. he was walking you home, your path only illuminated by a flickering street lamp.

"hmm, I've always wanted to go to greece." you replied.

he nodded, taking a mental note of that.

"what about you?"

"south africa." he said.

"why?"

"apparently, the waves there are top tier."

you hummed at that. "maybe i'll tag along....if that's okay with you?"

"yes!" he cleared his throat. "i-i mean..yeah, pfft, sure. why not?"

he smiled too. "great, um. do you-do you wanna go to lunch? or, or surfing? or both...we could do both, if you wanted-"

your house came into view and he took a deep breath, wanting to ask you before the night was over. "actually, i, um, i wanna ask you that. well, not that specifically, but, something close...kinda-"

"jj." you stopped his nervous rambling. "calm down."

he nodded. "right. right, yeah. um, i wanted to ask, if um, if your free tomorrow?"

you smiled. "i am. i am free."

"yes."

he paused. "what?"

"yes, jj. i would love to go out with you."

his face broke out into a smile, brighter than that coming from your porch light. "okay. okay, great, i'll-i'll come by at noon?"

you nodded, your own smile stuck on your face. "perfect." you looked up at your house. "thank you for walking me." then you did something he would remember forever.

you leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

"n-no problem."

"i'm gonna go inside now." you said, giggling.

"yeah! yeah, that's- that's good. i'll uh, i'll pick you up at noon."

you nodded and walked up the stairs to your house, closing the door with one last glance at jj.

he stayed there for a few minutes, bathing in the feeling of bliss that came from spending time with you.

when he finally started to walk back to the chateau, he couldn't stop himself from doing a small victory dance.

you watched from the window of your room, smiling at the idiot who stole your heart.

°♡°