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gf2bellamy · 2 days ago

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lipgloss — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) summary: you leave a lipgloss mark on spencer's cheek content warnings: nothing a/n: i malfunction when i see glasses spencer

You let out an exaggerated sigh, slumping forward as you rested your chin on your hand. Across from you, Spencer sat at his desk, completely engrossed in his work, the soft scratch of his pencil against paper filling the otherwise quiet bullpen. His brows furrowed in concentration as he made notes in the margins of his case files.

“Spencer,” you whined, drawing out his name. “Do you think Hotch would say anything if I just went home?”

Spencer glanced up at you, his honey-brown eyes softening the way they always did whenever he looked at you.

“I think he might,” he admitted, tilting his head slightly. “But you could always say you weren’t feeling well. Technically, boredom is a form of mental fatigue.”

You let out another sigh, this one even more dramatic. “I’m just so bored,” you groaned, dragging out the last word.

Spencer’s lips twitched in amusement before he returned to his notes. You stared at him for a moment, then perked up as an idea struck you.

“I’m gonna make myself a coffee,” you announced, standing up and stretching. “Do you want one?”

Spencer shook his head with a small smile. “No, that’s okay. But thanks.”

He picked up his pen, going right back to his work. You lingered for a second before stepping closer to his desk, your lips curling into a small, mischievous smile. With no one else in the bullpen, you leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

Spencer froze. His pencil slipped from his fingers, rolling across the desk. His head snapped up, his face already turning an unmistakable shade of pink.

Your smile widened. “What?” you teased, tilting your head.

“You—” He blinked rapidly, his blush deepening. “We’re at work.”

“And?” You arched a brow, feigning innocence.

Spencer opened his mouth, then shut it, clearly searching for a response. Finally, he huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking his head before picking up his pencil again.

“You’re impossible,” he muttered, but the small, fond smile on his lips gave him away.

You grinned. Mission accomplished.

You made your way to the break room, yawning as you prepared yourself a much-needed cup of coffee. The scent of freshly brewed caffeine filled the air, and just as you reached for a mug, you heard loud voices echoing from down the hall.

Garcia and Derek.

As you poured your coffee, you caught snippets of their conversation—mostly Derek chuckling about something Garcia had said, followed by her dramatic gasp. They had obviously just come back from their little break.

By “little break,” they meant sneaking off to grab food somewhere without telling anyone. Classic.

Once your cup was full, you wrapped your hands around the warm ceramic, only to immediately flinch and mutter a curse under your breath. Too hot. You blew on it a few times before deciding to just endure the heat, making your way back to the bullpen.

The second you stepped inside, you were met with two pairs of wide, mischievous eyes locked onto you.

“Oh my god, it is hers,” Garcia said, practically vibrating with excitement.

You froze mid-step, raising an eyebrow. “Uh… what?”

Your gaze flickered between them and Spencer, who was now sitting at his desk, very clearly avoiding eye contact. His ears were turning a suspicious shade of pink.

Slowly, you walked over to your desk, setting your coffee down as you eyed them warily. Garcia and Derek were standing on either side of Spencer’s desk, arms crossed, looking like they had just cracked some kind of case.

“Okay,” you said cautiously, dragging the word out. “Why are you all looking at me like that?”

Silence.

Spencer, still blushing, pretended to be very, very interested in his paperwork. Garcia and Derek, on the other hand, exchanged a knowing glance before Derek let out a low chuckle.

“You sneaky little thing,” he teased, shaking his head.

“What are you talking about?” You sat down slowly, still staring at them like they’d lost their minds.

Garcia gasped dramatically. “Don’t play innocent! We know what you did.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “What—?”

Derek smirked, arms crossed over his chest like he’d just won the lottery. “Your lip gloss.”

You blinked. “What about my lip gloss?”

As if on cue, your lips instinctively pressed together, feeling the slight tackiness of the gloss you’d applied earlier. Garcia let out an exaggerated sigh, shaking her head.

“You left a mark,” she said dramatically. “A very clear mark, right on Dr. Reid’s cheek.”

Panic surged through you.

Your eyes darted to Spencer, then to Garcia and Derek, then back to Spencer again. He was already looking at you, and now it all made sense—the blushing, the way he had been avoiding your gaze, and the way Garcia and Derek were practically bouncing with glee.

Oh. Oh god.

You leaned in slightly, taking a closer look. And there it was. A faint but unmistakable pink smudge on his cheek.

Spencer huffed, finally speaking up. “She’s not letting me wipe it off,” he accused, nodding toward Garcia.

Garcia gasped, placing a hand over her heart in mock offense. “Excuse you, Doctor! It’s called preserving evidence.”

Derek chuckled. “Yeah, man. We gotta document this. It’s not every day you get physical proof that you two are—”

“Shh!” you hissed, eyes widening as you quickly glanced around the bullpen.

Your relationship with Spencer was still a secret, and the last thing you needed was someone overhearing this conversation. You shot both Garcia and Derek a glare, but they were absolutely thriving off of your reaction.

“Relax, sweetheart,” Derek teased. “It’s just us.”

You turned back to Spencer, who was looking at you expectantly, silently pleading for help. With a sigh, you grabbed a napkin from your desk, stepping closer to him. His eyes flickered to yours as you hesitated for just a second before reaching out, gently swiping at the mark on his cheek.

His skin was warm beneath your touch.

You tried to focus, but you could feel Garcia and Derek’s eyes burning into you.

“There,” you murmured, inspecting his face. The lip gloss was gone, but his blush? Very much still there.

Garcia clapped her hands together. “Awww, that was adorable.”

Derek grinned. “Man, if y’all think you’re still fooling anyone—”

Spencer groaned, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Can we please move on?”

Garcia waved him off. “Fine, fine. But just know—this isn’t over.”

She and Derek finally turned away, giggling to themselves as they walked off, no doubt already plotting their next round of teasing.

You sighed, rubbing your temples before glancing at Spencer. He still looked flustered, but there was a small, barely-there smile on his lips.

“You okay, genius?” you asked softly.

He nodded, exhaling as he glanced at you. “You know they’re never gonna let this go, right?”

You sighed dramatically, shaking your head. “Yeah. We’re doomed.”

Spencer chuckled, and despite everything, you couldn’t help but smile too.

Even if Garcia and Derek were onto you, at least work wasn’t boring anymore.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #criminal minds x you #spencer reid #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic

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woso-dreamzzz · 3 days ago

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The King II

Alexia Putellas x Sister!Reader

Patri Guijarro x Putellas!Reader

Summary: Your sister thinks you're hiding something from her

There's something different with you.

Alexia knows that for a fact.

There's something that's changed. There's something that's happened.

Alexia can tell just from the way you've relaxed, the way your posture is more open, the way you're smiling more rather than your usual stern face and eye rolls.

Her own eyes narrow as she watches you lean against a wall with Patri, talking in hushed whispers as Mapi passes by, slapping you on the shoulder with a massive grin on her face.

Gears tick in your sister's head as she watches you throughout training - your smiling, carefree face lit up in delight.

It comes to her in the middle of the night.

There's a romantic comedy playing on the bedroom tv and Olga curled up by her side but Alexia still bolts upright, shattering the soft atmosphere that had been building.

"She slept with a groupie!"

Olga rubs the sleep from her eyes, blinking a few times as she's rudely awoken by Alexia's swift movements. "What?"

"My sister! Oh my god...Olga, she's sleeping with a fan! That's why she's all light and airy at training! Some football groupie is taking advantage of my sister!"

"Ale...what if she's just gotten a girlfriend?"

Alexia gives her a look of disbelief. "Don't be so disgusting. Y/n hasn't got a girlfriend! She can barely talk to girls! No, some groupie is taking advantage of my sister's inexperience!"

"I don't think...You know what? Sure, whatever you say, Ale. Can we finish our film now?"

When Alexia comes into training the next day, you can tell something's different about her.

She's been kind of shifty and awkward...

More awkward than normal that is.

She hovers by you incessantly, looking over your shoulder when you're texting and walking you to your car everyday like she's worried someone's going to jump out of the bushes or something.

You're pretty sure you even saw her car outside of your apartment when you left in the morning but it was already gone by the time Patri came downstairs so you could carpool together to training.

Everything about your sister is getting stranger and stranger through the coming days and you don't know what you could have possibly done to get her to hover like this.

You're not sick. You're not injured and those are the only two reasons she's hovered in the past like that time when you were ten and caught the flu and Alexia camped out on your bedroom floor even though Mama told her she'd get sick too or that time exactly a year later when you'd fallen from the jungle gym at school and broke your arm.

She'd cried so hard in the hospital that the nurses thought she was the one that was injured.

She's hovering a bit like that now though and you subtly pat at your limbs in case she's seeing something you haven't noticed yet.

But there's nothing wrong with you. Nothing that would alarm Alexia anyway and you really don't know why she's staring at you so intently.

You're not even sure she knows how she's look at you right now - wide eyed and unblinking.

Your sister and subtle just don't seem to work in the same sentence.

Least of all in the middle of the night when you open your apartment door to Alexia standing there.

"Ale?" You say, rubbing your eyes to rid the sleep from them," What's...? What's going?"

Alexia takes you in.

You must have been sleeping, hair all messy and the soft Stitch pyjamas Alba got you for Christmas on your body.

"I can't want to come and visit my sister?" Alexia asks.

"At one in the morning? Ale, we have training tomorrow."

"I know," Alexia says, practically barging her way through your door and beelining straight for your bedroom.

Her face falls the moment she gets in though.

"What are you looking for?" You ask, still yawning as you come up behind her," If this is about that jean skirt thing, I didn't take it. Alba's got it. Not me. You know I don't wear that kind of stuff."

Alexia pulls a face as she looks around the room, clearly not finding what she wanted.

"Like, I can call Alba and tell her to give it back," You continue," But I don't know why you need to in the middle of the night so urgently. I mean...Ale? Alexia?"

But your sister is already gone and you wake up the next day ninety percent sure that the whole interaction was some dream hallucination brought on by something dodgy that you'd cooked.

Which is why, here and now, you lay splayed out on your sofa with Patri ordering pizza.

Technically, she lives one floor above you but you've been cohabitating more and more these recent weeks.

She's at home in your apartment and you're at home in hers.

"I was thinking," She says, fingers slowly moving up and down your bare arm," That after this season, we can go away for a bit. Just the two of us."

"The two of us?"

Patri tilts your head up until you can just about feel her lips on yours. "Us. Some sand. Some sea. A lot of sex."

"I like that plan."

You connect your lips with hers and before you know it, you're pressed up in bed together and lazily making out again.

"Another round?" Patri asks, eyes hooded and salacious smirk upon her face.

"I would," You say," But I think the pizza man who has been ringing the doorbell won't be happy to wait any longer."

You pull on your clothes, still buttoning up your shirt when you swing open the door.

You expect the pizza man.

Your mouth hangs open at the sight of your sister there.

Her eyes narrow as she takes in your appearance - your messy sex hair and the hickeys running up your neck.

"I knew it!" She says, barging in like she did last week," You're sleeping with a groupie!"

"I-What?!"

But Alexia isn't listening anymore.

Her eyes zero in on the pile of Patri's clothes.

They start from your sofa but track the path you both took into your bedroom.

Alexia turns to you slowly, eyes going between you and the clothes. "She's still here?"

"Alexia, wait. It's not-"

Alexia's slams your bedroom door open as you scramble after her.

Your girlfriend sits up in your bed, covers pressed against her chest as she awkwardly smiles at your sister.

"Hey, Ale..."

You clear your throat and Alexia's eyes immediately rest on you - eyes wide in shock.

"So..." You say," At least Patri's not a groupie?"

#woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #patri guijarro x reader #patri guijarro #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso

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moonstruckme · 3 days ago

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Hi Mae! I was in a car accident yesterday (car took most of the damage, I’m ok other than bruises and sore muscles) and the whole thing has been a whirlwind of insurance and hospital and half asleep crying. I was wondering if I could request James potter x reader for comfort in a situation like that? I’m going through it rn lol hope you’re having a good day :)

Oh I'm sorry lovely! I had a very similar thing happen a little over a year ago, it's sooooo exhausting even when luckily no one is seriously hurt. Thanks for requesting, hope you're having a good/better day too <33

cw: past car accident, no details but talk of general aftermath of police questioning, insurance, etc.

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 799 words

The way James half-jogs up to the automatic doors of the hospital, seeming caught between walking and running, feels like someone is pressing down on the bruise of your chest. You wish you’d called him sooner.

“James,” you call as he comes in, hating how your voice cuts through the taut quiet of the waiting area. It’s worth it for how his whole self softens when his eyes find you.

He slows to a fast walk the rest of the way to you, the urgency slowly leaving him—which is appropriate, there is no urgency, everything has happened already—like an engine running out of gas. You stand as he nears, and both of you reach for each other before James hesitates. His hands stop midair, his brow tightening for a moment, before they come tentatively to your elbows.

“Hi,” he says, squeezing. “How bad is it?”

“For me or the car?” you joke.

“You.” James is feeling too earnest for joking, it seems. “Well, both of you. But you first.”

You really thought you’d cry when you saw him. Worried you’d make a whole scene, blubbering and inconsolable, but you don’t seem to have any tears left. It makes sense, you suppose; you’ve cried a lot in the past few hours. First the slow, shaky kind right after getting out of your car, and then a real cry when a police officer had pulled you aside to get your version of events. (It had been embarrassing. She’d been nice about it, though.) Now, you wait for the tears to come, but for all your relief at seeing your boyfriend you feel rather dried up.

It makes you wish, once again, that you’d called James sooner. You’d wanted to, of course, but you’d been nearly certain you’d be even less capable of holding yourself together if he were there, and there wasn’t much reason for him to be anyways. He was at work and you weren’t terribly hurt, so there was really nothing he could have done while you were talking to the police and the tow company and the paramedics and attempting not to drown in an overwhelm of insurance information. The only thing you really wanted him for was to hold your hand.

“I’m okay,” you say, the necessary preface. “A bit bruised up. My chest got the worst of it.”

Unconsciously, your hand comes to your sternum as if to demonstrate, gravitating towards the center of the ache. James’ hand follows, seemingly just as thoughtless as it covers your own. He can’t see the bruise, but he makes a low, sad sound anyway.

His care softens your voice. “They said my neck will probably hurt tomorrow, but it doesn’t yet.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” James sounds really, truly heartbroken for you. “And the rest, it hurts a lot?”

You shrug. What’s a lot? You know you could’ve had worse, much worse; still, you could do without that frightening soreness that comes with each breath.

“It’s not too bad,” you say. “I could still hug.”

It’s the question he’s been dying to ask, clearly. James’ arms are around you in a second, ardent but still gentle, palms pressing to the high and low points of your bag. It’s a good hug. You melt a little against him.

James tucks his face into the side of your neck, like he’s trying to get as much contact with you as he can. “I wish you’d called me when it happened.”

“You were at work.”

“I’d have left work.”

“There wasn’t anything you could do. I was fine, I just had to…” a little sigh escapes you, exhaustion creeping in now that he’s here “...talk to people. Insurance and all that.”

James makes a soft, half-agreeing sound. His thumb strokes the base of your neck. “Still. I could have held your hand.”

A new ache rises in the back of your throat, coming to join the rest. You wind your arms tighter around James.

After a few, silent moments, he kisses your neck chastely and loosens his hold. “Ready to go home? Anything else you need?”

You shake your head. “I’m signed out,” you say, so eager you feel like you could float out the doors. You hope you can entice James to lie in bed with you when you get home. You think you’ll sleep until tomorrow. “Let’s go, please.”

“Alright, you don’t have to say please, sweetheart.” James curls an arm around your shoulders, pressing a smile into your cheek. “We can go. You need one of those wheelchairs for me to take you out to the car?”

“Ha ha,” you say drily. “No.”

“Just checking. Think maybe I ought to ask for one, just in case?”

“James. I will take your car home without you in it.”

“Alright, lovie, I’m coming.”

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pretty-little-mind33 · 2 days ago

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Dad!James Potter x wife!fem!reader

Summary: Telling James you're pregnant again is scary.

Genre: pure fluff

Warnings: reader is pregnant, vomiting

~ set after Santa Baby and before Snow On The Beach ~

JAMES POTTER MASTERLIST

Date nights were extremely important to James. Since Henry's birth, he was adamant that his alone time with you was something he didn't want to neglect, even if there was a child in the picture.

Now that Henry was nine, convincing Sirius and Remus to babysit wasn't hard. Especially since they would bring their four year old, Cassiopeia, with them and Henry would graciously play her while you and James went out.

Tonight's date isn't any different than the others, except that you're a bundle of jumping nerves. It certainly doesn't help that James looks positively stunning with his dark hair slicked back, a few loose curls arrayed across his forehead, and his dark suit, which conveniently matches the velvet navy dress you're wearing.

The restaurant is fancy. It's James's favorite and you secretly think one of the reasons is he likes showing you how much he can spoil you, as if he hadn't been doing just that for the past thirteen years. He'd ordered this fancy appetizer, along with some wine you haven't touched and was currently talking about work. Taking over his father's company was putting some stress on him, which you understood.

"You know, I can't wait till Harry starts school, not that I won't miss the little bugger," James chuckles behind his wine glass, his mind wandering, "but because we'll have more time. Just us."

His words cause your stomach to sink. How are you supposed to tell him now, you think. James, always observant to your emotions, frowns when he sees your expression.

"You okay, you look like you're going to be sick—"

As he speaks, the nausea hits you hard and you stand, holding a hand over your mouth as you rush to the nearest bathroom without any warning. You clumsily throw yourself on the ground, vomiting into the toilet and you choke on an embarrassed sob.

James is hot on your heels the moment you leave dinner so abruptly, running into the women's bathroom without a care in the world. The older women, who'd been mildly appalled by your vomiting, send him some dirty looks but he doesn't pay them any mind as he opens the stall. He kneels next to you, gently gathering your hair in his hand as he uses the other one to rub soothing circles on your back.

"Hey, my love, what happened?" He asks between soothing words, his hand strokes your hair as you slump against him, tears glistening in your waterline.

Your husband isn't stupid and he knows you. He looks into your eyes and he understands instantly. His breath hitches as he remembers just how bad your 'morning' sickness was when you were pregnant with Henry, lasting and becoming even worse in the evenings. His gaze softens instantly and clicks his tongue. "Why didn't you tell me?" he scolds half-heartedly, still rubbing soothing circles on your back.

You sniffle, wiping your mouth with an enormous amount of toilet-paper as you whimper, "I felt like I was going to disappoint you, you seemed so happy for time alone and—"

"And now we are going to have another baby," James finishes for you, kissing your temple as he helps you up and brings you to the sink. He pushes hair behind your face as he gently takes some paper-towel, wets it, and gently runs it under your chin and around your mouth. You look miserable and his heart breaks.

He doesn't say anything for a moment as he washes your hands, washing his in the process as well. Your mind races. You don't know what to think, what to feel about this new life growing inside you.

He places his large palm on your stomach. You're not showing, yet. You flinch, sniffing. "Why so sad, love?" he whispers as he tries to comfort you.

"You're upset," you whisper, looking at your appearance in the mirror. You look like a mess.

James grins. "Says who?" He laughs and presses a kiss to your forehead again.

You look on the verge of tears again and your husband's smile falters. He leans down, catching your gaze so you're looking at him properly. "Hey, love, please don't cry okay? I'm not upset, I promise. I'm happy. So so happy, really," James reassures you, a familiar glint of sincerity in his eyes. "We are having another baby. This is the best news, okay?"

Tension eases in your shoulders and you finally relax. The warm feeling of happiness seeps back into you. You sniff again, looking into his eyes. "Promise?"

He straightens himself and holds out his pinky for you to take. "I pinky promise." You hook your pinky with his and he leans down, kissing his closed fist. You hesitate, finally cracking a small smile as you do the same.

"Excuse me? This is the ladies room," a snark voice calls from behind you both and you look towards the voice. A woman is standing tensely in the doorway, gripping the hand of her young daughter, and she's glaring daggers at James.

The little girl looks confused and she's clearly feeling the fear her mother is and you can tell from James's expression he feels bad.

"Sorry." He waves his hands in the air, his cheeks dusted pink, as he points to you, "My wife was sick—I was just leaving—" James looks your way and mouths, "You coming?"

You nod, taking his hand, as he leads you out the door. You mumble a small apology to the woman and James sends a small reading smile to the girl, hoping not to scare her.

Once your back at your table, James gulps down his wine and looks at you sheepishly. "Oops," he mutters. You smile and cover your giggles. James's smile widens when you laugh and he reaches over, resting his hand over yours.

"Seriously, baby," he says, seriously now, "I'm really happy. And Henry will be happy too."

You rub your temples, taming some of the wisps of hair that fall in front of your eyes. "Yeah? You think so?"

James laughs, "No. He's gonna be furious," he pauses when he sees that his joke isn't landing and he squeezes your hand. "I'm joking. He'll be the best big brother. He's already so good with Cassi, he's practically an older brother already."

You smile. "He is, isn't he?"

James hums, that giddy smile of his returning. "Pregnant. Again," he muses, "I can't believe how lucky I am," he says and looks at you like you're the brightest star in the universe. You feel your cheeks warm. "I love you."

"I love you more," you say back, bringing his knuckles to your lips.

James grins and when he catches glimpse of your untouched wine glass, a smirk curls his lips and shake his head, clicking his tongue. "Can't drink this, baby," he teases you and slides it over to his side. You roll your eyes.

"I wasn't," you argue playfully.

"Hmm?"

You swat his hand, knowing he's teasing you on purpose to lighten the mood. Still, your nerves have calmed and you aren't feeling as nauseous anymore. In fact, you can finally truly feel excited now. Another baby. You smile.

Once the food arrives and the topic of conversation had changed to James excitedly coming up with new baby names, you feel at ease again and warmth spreads in your stomach.

You move your foot under the table, gently touching James's ankle—just to let him know you love him. James doesn't mention it but his smile widens as he speaks, a look of adoration and love sparkling in his eyes.

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter imagines #james potter fluff #james potter imagine #james potter fic #james potter x fem!reader #dad!james #dad!james potter #dad!james potter x reader #dad!james potter x fem!reader #dad!james potter x wife!reader #james potter x wife!reader #aaron taylor johnson

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woniedarlin · 3 days ago

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XO,I'm Yours

pairing: Jungwon x fem! Reader

genre: XO, Kitty au

synopsis: Having a massive crush on Jungwon is tough. Every time he’s around, your brain malfunctions, and instead of acting normal, you… avoid him. He’s calm, chill, and entirely out of your league (at least, that’s what you tell yourself). Enter Kitty, the matchmaker, determined to make things happen. With her “help,” you find yourself in the most awkward yet heart-racing moments with Jungwon.

The worst part? Jungwon is noticing you now. And it’s making everything so much more complicated. But maybe… Kitty’s plan wasn’t so bad after all.

author's note: This was requested by @firstclassjaylee . Thank you for this idea!!! Please let me know the pronouns for the og XO Kitty characters! I wasn’t sure, so if I got them wrong, I’d happily change them immediately. Apologies in advance for not being able to mention all the characters. Happy reading!

caution: This fic contains extreme secondhand embarrassment and an excessive amount of Jungwon-induced butterflies. Read at your own risk!

permanent tag list: @sol3chu @chlorinecake @13tter @jung1w0n

The plan was simple. Avoid Jungwon at all costs.

It wasn’t that he was mean. That was the problem. Jungwon was nice. The kind of nice that made your stomach do flips and made you feel like an idiot for getting so flustered over someone just existing. So, instead of embarrassing yourself, you settled for admiring him from afar. No eye contact. No unnecessary conversations. Easy.

At least, it was easy...until Kitty found out.

“You have a massive crush on him,” Kitty said one afternoon with her arms crossed.

“No, I don’t.” You knew lying was pointless, but still, you had to try.

Kitty gave you a look. “You walked into a door last week because he was standing near it.”

Your face burned. “That was an accident.”

“Sure,” she said unimpressed. “Look, lucky for you, I happen to be amazing at matchmaking. And I happen to have a plan.”

You blinked. “A plan?”

“Step one: Stop avoiding him.”

You immediately shook your head. “Absolutely not.”

“Too bad because I already started.”

Your stomach dropped. “Kitty. What did you do?”

She just grinned. “You’ll see.”

And just like that, your quiet little crush? It was about to become very complicated.

💌

You should have known Kitty wouldn’t waste any time. The very next day, you find yourself in an unavoidable situation.

It started in the Library. You had just settled in your usual corner, buried in a book, when Kitty slid into the seat across from you.

“What are you—”

“Shh.” She put a finger to her lips. “Just act natural.”

That’s when you saw him.

Jungwon.

He was scanning the shelves a few feet away, oblivious to how your entire body tensed at seeing him. Your brain screamed at you to run, but before you could, Kitty leaned in and whispered, “I told him you needed help with your econ homework.”

Your eyes widened in horror. “You did what?”

And right on cue, Jungwon turned, eyes landing on you.

“Hey,” he said as he was walking over.

Kitty beamed. “Perfect timing! She was saying how she’s completely lost in econ.”

You snapped your head toward her. Liar. You were literally top of the class.

Jungwon pulled out the chair beside you and sat down without hesitation. “I can help.”

You swallowed. Oh no.

Kitty’s grin was way too smug. “Great! I’ll leave you two to it.” Then, before you could protest, she was gone.

Leaving you. Alone. With Jungwon.

You looked down at your phone, noticing a message from Kitty

“You’re welcome ;)’’

💌

You tried to focus on Jungwon's explanation for the first few minutes. Really, you did.

But how were you supposed to concentrate when he was sitting this close?

He leaned over the table, pointing at your textbook, his voice steady as he explained some economic theory. You nodded along, pretending to listen, but in reality, your brain was short-circuiting.

“Does that make sense?” he asked, turning to look at you.

You blinked. “Huh?”

He raised an eyebrow. “You weren’t listening, were you?”

Your face heated. “I was! Kind of. Maybe.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “You’re bad at lying.”

You groaned, then covered your face. “This is embarrassing.”

“Why?” He tilted his head. “It’s just me.”

Exactly.

It was just him. Just Jungwon, who you had spent months avoiding because he made you feel like a walking disaster. But he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he seemed amused.

“I don’t bite, you know,” he said. “You don’t have to be scared of me.”

“I’m not scared of you,” you blurted out.

He smirked. “So you’ve just been avoiding me for fun?”

You clamped your mouth shut.

Jungwon leaned back in his chair, watching you with a knowing look. “Huh.”

You frowned. “What?”

“Nothing.” His smirk deepened. “You’re interesting.”

Your stomach did a backflip.

Oh, you were so doomed.

Later that night, Kitty found you in your dorm room, looking too pleased with herself.

“So?” she asked, flopping onto your bed. “How did it go?”

You groaned. “I made a fool of myself.”

Kitty laughed. “Define ‘fool.’”

“I blanked out. He caught me staring. I admitted to avoiding him. And he called me interesting.”

Her eyes widened. “Wait. He called you interesting?”

You nodded miserably.

Kitty squealed. “That’s huge!”

You frowned. “How is that huge?”

“Because Jungwon doesn’t just call people interesting, my dear hopeless friend. You caught his attention.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “You think?”

“I know.” Kitty grinned. “And trust me, this is only the beginning.”

You groaned again, flopping face-first onto your pillow.

Kitty just laughed.

After all, the matchmaking had only just begun.

💌

“Okay,” Kitty clapped her hands, grinning as she stared at you. “Today’s the day we level you up.”

You blinked and were confused. “Level me up?”

“Yes! You like Jungwon, but you get all shy and awkward around him,” she pointed out. “So, if you want him to notice you, we must work on your confidence.”

You groaned, already feeling embarrassed. “Kitty, this is so unnecessary.”

Kitty ignored you and stepped forward. “First lesson: Posture! Stand straight, shoulders back. Confidence comes from the way you carry yourself.”

You hesitated before adjusting yourself, trying to mimic the way she stood. “Like this?”

Kitty nodded. “Good. Now, when you see Jungwon, don’t look away all nervous. Hold eye contact. Make him feel like he’s the only person in the room.”

You gulped. “The only person in the room? Kitty, I can’t even look at him for three seconds without feeling like I’m about to pass out.”

She rolled her eyes. “That’s exactly why we’re practicing! Here, pretend I’m Jungwon.”

You stared at her. “Kitty, this is weird.”

“Do it!” she urged.

Taking a deep breath, you slowly raised your head, looking her in the eyes. You managed to hold it for two seconds before covering your face. “Nope. I can’t do this.”

Kitty groaned dramatically. “Okay, let’s try something else. Flirting! Sometimes, a little playful teasing can go a long way.”

You hesitated. “Like… what kind of teasing?”

Kitty smirked. “Try complimenting him, but make it sound casual. Like, ‘Wow, Jungwon, you look so good today.’”

You cringed. “That doesn’t sound casual at all.”

“It’s all about the tone!” Kitty explained. “Say it naturally, like you’re just making an observation.”

You sighed and cleared your throat, trying to sound confident. “Wow, Jungwon, you look so good today.”

Kitty immediately burst into laughter. “Why do you sound like a robot?”

You groaned and covered your face again. “I told you I’m bad at this!”

She patted your shoulder. “Okay, okay. Let’s try something easier…Oh! What about smiling? When you see him, could you give him a little smile? Not too big, not too small. Just a hint of a smile.”

You nodded and tried it. Kitty examined you for a second before shaking her head. “No. That looks scary.”

“Kitty!!”

“Okay, okay! Let’s just—oh wait, Jungwon’s coming!” Kitty suddenly grabbed your shoulders.

Your eyes widened in pure panic. “WHAT?!”

“Relax! Just do what we practiced!” she whispered urgently.

Jungwon walked past, glancing at the two of you. You froze utterly, your mind going blank. Then, at the last second, you remembered Kitty’s advice. You quickly straightened your posture and gave him a small smile… except you accidentally bared your teeth like an awkward grimace instead of a confident smile.

Jungwon slowed down slightly, his brows furrowing. “Uh… are you okay?”

‘’Pfft’’ Kitty covered her mouth, trying not to laugh.

You, wholly mortified, quickly turned away. “Yes! Totally fine! Just… stretching my face!”

Jungwon blinked, clearly confused, before nodding slowly and walking off.

The moment he was out of sight, you groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Kitty, I hate this.”

Kitty finally burst out laughing. “Okay, maybe that wasn’t your best moment, but hey! At least you tried!”

“I just embarrassed myself,” you muttered.

Kitty grinned. “Relax. Slow and steady wins the race. You’ll get there.”

You sighed, not entirely convinced, but Kitty’s encouragement made you feel slightly better. Maybe with time—and much more practice—you’d finally get the confidence you needed.

…Hopefully, before you died of embarrassment first.

💌

After your absolute disaster of a confidence practice session with Kitty, you decided there was only one solution.

Avoid Jungwon.

At all costs.

Your already massive crush on him had now turned into full-blown mortification. Every time you so much as thought about how you awkwardly bared your teeth at him, you wanted to disappear into the earth. So, naturally, when you spotted Jungwon walking down the hallway, you did what any logical person would do.

You grabbed the nearest person and used them as a human shield.

“Minho,” you hissed, ducking behind his tall frame.

Minho barely flinched while sipping on his collagen water. “Oi, what’s this then?” he drawled,

You gripped his shoulders. “I need to hide.”

Minho sighed, already used to your antics. “Lemme guess—Jungwon?”

You nodded frantically.

Minho shook his head but didn’t move. “You know, mate, you can’t keep running forever.”

“Yes, I can,” you whispered.

Unfortunately, fate had other plans.

“Minho,” Jungwon’s voice suddenly called out, catching your breath.

You peeked over Minho’s shoulder just in time to see Jungwon stopping before him, looking too good for your heart to handle.

Minho, unfazed, nodded in greeting. “Aye, mate. What’s up?”

Jungwon started talking to Minho about something you were too distracted to process. Because while he was addressing Minho, his eyes kept peeking over Minho’s shoulder—straight at you.

You immediately shrank further behind Minho.

Jungwon’s lips twitched slightly. “Hey,” he said, this time directed at you.

Your brain is short-circuited. Oh no. He’s talking to me. Abort mission. Abort mission.

Minho, ever the instigator, casually stepped to the side, exposing you completely.

You had no choice but to face Jungwon. “H-Hi,” you managed weakly.

Jungwon tilted his head slightly. “Are you hiding from me?”

“What? No! Pfft, that’s crazy,” you blurted out and laughed nervously.

Minho smirked and sipped his collagen water. “Yeah, mate, totally crazy.”

You kicked the back of Minho’s shoe.

Jungwon didn’t look entirely convinced but let it slide. “Alright,” he said before flicking his gaze back to Minho.

You thought you were in the clear—until you noticed that Jungwon kept glancing at you even as he continued his conversation with Minho. Every few seconds, his eyes would shift back to you.

It was subtle, but it was enough to make your stomach flip.

Then, as Minho made some joke in his relaxed drawl, Jungwon suddenly interrupted, his eyes locking on yours. “You don’t have to hide, you know,” he said softly.

Your heart stopped.

After thoroughly enjoying the situation, Minho took a long sip of his drink. “Oi, look at that, would ya? Some real tension here.”

You kicked him again.

Jungwon only smiled slightly before looking away as if he hadn’t just destroyed your ability to function.

And just like that, your plan to avoid him had backfired entirely.

You were so doomed.

💌

The sound of typing and the flick of pages turning was the soundtrack of your days lately. You had been buried in textbooks for what felt like forever. The stress had accumulated, leaving you exhausted. Your face was pale, and dark bags were under your eyes from the sleepless nights, but you couldn’t stop. You had to push through. A vast project was coming up, and you couldn’t afford to fail.

You propped your head up with one hand, barely able to keep your eyes open as you glanced over your notes. The words blurred, your mind already foggy from overworking. Before you knew it, your head dropped onto the table with a soft thud.

“Ugh…,” you mumbled as you fought to stay awake.

The door creaked open, and you heard the familiar sound of footsteps entering. Kitty’s voice followed soon after. “Hey, are you still at it?”

Jungwon’s calm tone responded, “She’s been studying for hours now. I don’t think she’s taking breaks.”

You groaned, too tired to even lift your head. The sounds of them approaching grew closer until you felt the soft pressure of someone standing beside you. You sighed and tried to sit up, but the weight of your exhaustion made it hard.

As you lifted your head, you saw Kitty’s shocked expression first. She gasped, her hand coming up to her mouth. “Oh my gosh! You look like you haven’t slept in days! Your face… it’s—”

You blinked slowly, too tired to defend yourself. “I’m fine,” you mumbled, attempting to give a smile, but it came out weak and crooked.

Kitty’s eyes softened with concern. “You need to take a break. Look at those bags under your eyes. Are you even eating right?”

Before you could reply, you heard Jungwon’s voice. “There’s nothing wrong with your face,” he said unbothered. He bent down to your level. “You’re still pretty, even with all that stress.”

The compliment caught you off guard. You couldn’t help but blush despite how exhausted you were. “W-well, thank you…” you stammered, a little embarrassed.

Kitty rolled her eyes playfully. “See, Jungwon knows what to say! But seriously, you need to rest.” She crossed her arms, and her frown replaced her concern. “This is way too much. You’re going to burn yourself out at this rate.”

Jungwon nodded slightly. “Kitty’s right. You won’t get far if you can’t even stay awake.”

You sighed, both too tired and too embarrassed to argue. “I… I need to finish this.”

Kitty leaned closer and whispered as if sharing a secret, “How about I help you get this done faster? You can relax, and I’ll take care of the rest.”

You blinked slowly, still too drained to think straight. “Are you sure?”

She smirked. “Don’t worry, I’ve got this. You need to close your eyes for a bit.”

Jungwon shot you a small and reassuring smile. “Take a break, okay? You don’t want to make yourself sick over this.”

You hesitated momentarily before nodding, grateful for their support even if you still felt guilty. You slid down in your chair, resting your head against the backrest and briefly closing your eyes.

Kitty moved to your side, pulling out her phone to check her messages. Jungwon stayed silent nearby, giving you an almost protective glance as you rested.

“Good. Now, take a nap. No more studying for the rest of the day,” Kitty said with a smile as she gave you the space to rest.

You breathed a sigh of relief and closed your eyes, hoping the rest would help ease the weight of the world you’d been carrying.

💌

You sat quietly on a chair, Minho beside you, applying your skincare. He had been your skincare mentor for a while, helping you with all the little tricks you needed. “Alright, make sure you really press it in,” Minho said, gently patting the moisturizer into your skin.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever do it as well as you,” you murmured. “But thanks for teaching me.”

Minho smiled. “Of course. You’re a fast learner,” he said, dabbing the cream across your cheek. “Maybe you should start your skincare vlog or something.”

You chuckled softly, “I’d probably mess it up on camera.”

Minho shook his head and let out a grin. “You’d be perfect. Trust me.”

You both laughed; the room felt safe. There was no pressure, no expectations, just good company. Then the door creaked open, and you looked up. Jungwon stepped in, looking casual, but something about his presence made the atmosphere feel different…tense, almost.

Minho waved at him, still oblivious to the sudden shift. “Hey, Jungwon! Just helping out with her skincare. You should join us.”

You froze for a moment, catching Jungwon’s eyes. Your heart skipped a beat, but you quickly looked away, too shy to hold his eyes for long.

Jungwon’s lips twitched in an almost a frown. “I’m good,” he said; his eyes were focused on you and Minho, how you both were laughing and talking comfortably.

Minho, clearly unaware of the undercurrent between the three of you, laughed again. “You sure? I think I’m pretty much a skincare pro now.” He gently patted your cheek again, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly.

You noticed Jungwon kept looking at your face, then back to Minho’s hand. There was a slight tension in his posture now. His arms were still crossed, and his eyes had narrowed just a little. “I think she’s got it covered,” Jungwon’s voice a little colder. “You’re always helping her with something.”

You looked down, trying to avoid his gaze as his words were uncomfortably in the air. Your heart beat faster than usual, and you were too shy to respond. Why was it that whenever Jungwon was around, you lost all ability to act normal?

Minho didn’t seem to notice anything wrong. “What can I say? I’m just a helpful guy,” he replied with a wink.

Jungwon’s eyes flickered between the two of you. He uncrossed his arms and took a step closer. “Well, maybe she doesn’t need that much help,” he said, a little irritated. His tone wasn’t even harsh.

You flinched slightly, but you didn’t say anything. You just sat there, hoping the ground would swallow you whole.

Minho noticed the shift. “Okay, okay, I’ll stop making her feel like a project,” he teased, though it was clear he was a little confused by Jungwon’s sudden change in attitude. “I was just trying to be helpful.”

You bit your lip, feeling the awkward silence settle over the room. Jungwon didn’t respond immediately; they just looked at you for a beat longer than necessary. Then he exhaled and glanced at the door. “You should probably get some rest,” Jungwon said softer now. “It’s late.”

You nodded quickly. Unsure of what to say. “Right, I’ll—uh, I’ll head to bed.”

Minho, still oblivious, smiled. “Get some sleep. We’ll finish up tomorrow.”

You nodded again, glancing briefly at Jungwon as you left. Jungwon’s voice stopped you before you could walk out. “You’re… you’re fine, right?”

The question caught you off guard. You hesitated. “I’m fine,” you replied quietly while avoiding his gaze.

He nodded, then gave you an unreadable smile. “Okay,” he said before turning back to Minho.

You walked out of the room quickly,

Was that… jealousy?

That’s impossible.

💌

“You have to wear this,” Kitty declared, holding up a dress that made your stomach tense.

“Kitty, no.”

“Kitty, yes.”

You glared at her through the mirror, but she just grinned as she shoved the outfit into your hands. “Trust me,” she said. “Jungwon won’t be able to take his eyes off you.”

You swallowed hard at the thought. Jungwon. Seeing you. In this.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t dressed up before, but this outfit felt… different. More intentional. It's more like you were trying to get his attention.

Which, okay, you were, but still—

Kitty snapped her fingers in front of your face. “No overthinking! Just wear it. Come on, it’s a party! You’re supposed to look hot.”

You groaned but ultimately let her win (not that you ever had a choice).

By the time you were ready, you were nervous to the point that you needed to go to the restroom for a second. Your reflection in the mirror was almost unrecognizable. Kitty had curled your hair and given you subtle but effective makeup; the outfit made you feel… good.

“You look amazing,” Kitty whispered and squeezed your shoulders. “Now go show Jungwon what he’s missing.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled. You felt a little bit braver as you followed her out.

The party was in full swing by the time you arrived. You weren’t even inside for a full minute before you felt the weight of someone’s eyes on you.

And when you turned—

There he was.

Jungwon.

Standing across the room, eyes locked on you with a similar unreadable expression on his face. For a moment, neither of you moved. The world around you blurred, and all you could focus on was how his eyes slowly traveled over you before he looked away.

Kitty, standing beside you, definitely noticed.

“Oh,” she whispered and nudged you with her elbow. “He so noticed.”

You felt your face heat up.

Jungwon, however, had turned away, disappearing into the crowd before you could react.

The party was energetic, but you barely registered anything. Kitty had practically forced you into this dress, hyping you up, fixing your hair, and making you promise you wouldn’t shrink away if Jungwon talked to you.

But here he was—talking to you—and you were about two seconds from running.

“You look different.”

You looked up at him with your fingers gripping your cup tighter.

“What?”

His gaze was enough to make you feel self-conscious.

“You don’t usually dress like this,” he said.

You swallowed. “Oh. Yeah. Kitty—”

“Makes sense.”

Your brows furrowed. “What does that mean?”

Jungwon took a sip of his drink and then met your gaze again.

“It means you look pretty.”

If that makes sense, your brain wholly short-circuited, and you felt like your stomach was twisting again.

You needed to escape.

But the second you tried to move, a gentle hand wrapped around your wrist.

“Don’t run away,” Jungwon said softly.

You froze.

His grip wasn’t tight or forceful—just enough to hold you there, to make you look at him.

“You always do that,” he murmured.

Your throat went dry.

Jungwon tilted his head slightly, “You’re always avoiding me,” he continued, “but then you’re always looking.”

Your breath hitched.

Jungwon let out a chuckle. Then, most casually, like he wasn’t wholly messing with your heart, he said—

“You don’t have to run. I don’t mind if you stay.”

You weren’t used to this—at least not with him.

“Hey,” Jungwon’s voice was quiet, “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

You were processing his words slowly. You had been avoiding him for so long, not because you didn’t like him, but because the thought of being close to him made your heart skip beats. And now, here he was, standing so close,

“I’m okay,” you mumbled, shifting your gaze anywhere but him. The more you looked at him, the more your stomach flipped.

Jungwon’s hand fell to his side. He gave you a little space, but not enough to make you feel like he was giving up. You could tell that he wasn’t the type to give up easily. “I didn’t mean to crowd you,” he continued, understanding. “I… wanted to hang out, y’know?”

You nodded slowly, still unsure how to move past the awkward tension that had settled between you two. It was strange, feeling so seen yet so exposed. “Okay.” You took a deep breath. “I… I’m not good with all of this yet.”

Jungwon smiled at that. He didn’t push, didn’t pressure. Instead, he took a small step back, keeping a respectful distance but maintaining that comforting presence. “I get it,” he said. “But if you ever want to talk or hang out, I’m here. No rush.” He let the words hang in the air. He is willing to wait until you are ready.

You finally allowed your eyes to meet his, “Thanks,” you whispered, feeling a warmth in your chest that wasn’t just from the proximity but from the simple kindness he showed you. He wasn’t asking for more than your comfort, making everything more manageable.

“You know,” Jungwon added, “you don’t have to hide behind Minho all the time.”

You stiffened at that, but he didn’t look at you teasingly. He was stating a fact.

Your heart fluttered.

“Well, he’s taller than me,” you mumbled, trying to brush off the awkwardness.

Jungwon chuckled.

And for once, the thought of being close to Jungwon didn’t make your heart race in fear. It made it race in something else.

Something a little more hopeful.

💌

The group had decided to take a little break from basically everything that happened, and everyone was now scattered across the dorm’s common area. Kitty and Minho were sitting on the couch, though something was different. Minho had his arm casually draped over the back of the sofa, and Kitty leaned slightly toward him, her attention entirely on whatever they were discussing.

You couldn’t help but watch, caught up in the dynamic between them. It was so apparent that they were getting close. Too close, really. You glanced at them for a few seconds longer than you probably should have, a little uncomfortable with how natural they looked together, especially considering the little tension between them.

You shook your head and sighed. “Those two should just get together already,” you muttered. “It’s painful to watch.” You didn’t even realize you had said it aloud until Jungwon, standing nearby, chuckled softly.

“You seem to be invested in their situation. ”

You froze and blushed immediately. “What? No! I—” You stammered. “It’s awkward, you know? With everything going on with Yuri and all that. It’d be easier if they just figured it out.”

Jungwon raised an eyebrow. “You sure? Sounds like you’re a little too invested,” his smirk growing.

You looked away quickly. “I’m not. I think… it’s obvious, don’t you think?”

Jungwon leaned back. “Hm. Interesting. You know, Kitty might take that as a challenge. She likes playing matchmaker.” He paused, glancing at the two on the couch before returning to you. “But then again, maybe it’s you who should be matched with someone.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you shot a look at him, trying to keep your cool. “What are you talking about?” You weren’t sure if you were ready for whatever joke or comment he was about to make.

With a shrug. “I don’t know… It’d be painful to watch you and me, right?”

You were trying to make sense of his words. Was he joking? Was he serious?

Before you could respond, Jungwon gave you a playful smile. “Well, maybe not. We’re not so bad, right?” His eyes seemed to challenge you to call him out on it.

You couldn’t stop the nervous laugh that escaped your lips. “I… I don’t know what you mean,” you said quickly. Your thoughts felt muddled, and your stomach flipped in a way you weren’t quite ready to admit.

Jungwon leaned closer just a little. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. I’m sure you’ll figure out what’s happening between you and… well, someone, someday.”

The way he said that last part made your heart flutter, and before you could think too much about it, you quickly stood up, awkwardly brushing past him to talk to Dae. You couldn’t handle being near him anymore, not with his strange comment.

💌

It had been one of those nights where everything felt like it was building up to something. The group had decided to sneak out, and of course, Kitty had the whole thing planned out. Again. She was determined to get you and Jungwon alone for a little confession moment, even if it meant dragging everyone else into a mini adventure. The plan was simple: sneak out to the park for a midnight stroll.

The group managed to sneak out without much trouble, or so they thought. Kitty was already ahead, while Minho, Q, Dae, and Yuri followed, all too eager to escape their studies. You padded behind them. But suddenly, just as you were about to turn the corner toward the door, you heard footsteps approaching from the hallway.

“Someone’s coming!” you hissed and panic started rising in your chest. You froze, unsure of what to do, until a pair of warm hands quickly grabbed you from behind, pulling you into the nearest room and closing the door softly.

You looked up to see Jungwon standing there. His gaze was serious momentarily before it softened into that usual mischievous smile. “Close call,” he whispered.

You sighed in relief but your heart was still pounding from the adrenaline. “I didn’t think it would be this hard to sneak out,” you muttered.

Jungwon stepped closer, and the space between you grew smaller. “Kitty really knows how to get us into trouble, doesn’t she?” he smiled gently.

You laughed nervously. “She’s persistent, I’ll give her that. I don’t know how she does it.” You couldn’t help but glance down. “I should probably—” you began to mumble but Jungwon interrupted you

“You don’t have to run away this time,” he murmured and you felt his thumb gently brushing your cheek. “You can stay with me.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the words, and before you could even process their whole meaning, Jungwon leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in the softest, most gentle kiss you’d ever experienced. The world seemed to stop for a moment.

You stood there, frozen, your eyes wide in shock as Jungwon pulled back slightly, but only enough to look at you with a tender look, “You were going to say something, right?” Jungwon whispered

You were unable to form words. You couldn’t find anything to say except for the obvious truth that had been sitting in your chest for so long. “I… I’ve liked you for a while,” you finally admitted in a whisper. “I didn’t know how to say it. I didn’t think you’d… feel the same.”

Jungwon smiled and leaned his forehead against yours. “I feel the same,” he said softly. “I’ve been trying to find the right moment to tell you… but I guess this is as good a time as any.”

You smiled as you leaned into him, both chuckling in silence. For the first time, it felt like the weight had been lifted, and everything had finally fallen into place.

💌

The next day, you and Jungwon walked through campus hand in hand. You didn’t care about the curious glances or whispers around you. Everything felt so natural now. Jungwon’s thumb gently brushed against your hand, and you couldn’t help but smile at the small but significant change in your relationship.

As you turned the corner, you spotted Kitty and Q sitting at their usual spot by the fountain. They looked up at you two simultaneously, eyes widening in shock as they saw your hands intertwined. Kitty’s face immediately broke into a smile, while Q’s jaw dropped slightly. “Oh my god!” Kitty squealed with her voice a few octaves higher than usual as she stood up quickly. “It’s official! You two are—?”

You giggled and nodded. “Yep, it’s real. Took us a while, but we finally figured it out.”

Q was still in shock and blinked a few times before recovering. “Wait, is this the part where you two act all coy about it?” he teased.

Jungwon chuckled and shrugged slightly as he looked down at you with an affectionate gaze. “Guess so,” he said casually. “But it feels good. Finally.”

Kitty, her excitement never waning, jumped up and clapped her hands together. “I knew it! I knew you two would be perfect for each other. I mean, come on, how could you not be?”

You smiled as you felt a little shy under all their attention. “Yeah, well, it’s thanks to Kitty here,” you said, turning toward her with a grateful look. “She practically forced us to get our act together.”

Kitty just shrugged. “Hey, someone had to step in. You two were taking forever.”

You then decided to have a little fun with Q. Turning to him with a smirk; you said, “Oh, and by the way, Q, now that we’re all on the same page… maybe it’s time you and Jin finally get together.”

Kitty gasped, and Q’s face immediately turned beet red. “I—what? No! That’s—no!” he sputtered

Jungwon raised an eyebrow. “You know, I’ve noticed that too. You and Jin make a good pair,” he said honestly.

Q looked like he was about to explode, “I hate him!” he said. “You better not tell Jin I said that.”

You chuckled at his reaction. “Oh, don’t worry. We won’t say a thing… for now.”

Still practically bouncing with excitement, Kitty turned to Jungwon with a warm smile. “Okay, I’ll take the credit for this one,” she said with a wink. “But I’m happy you two finally figured it out.”

Jungwon gave Kitty a genuine look, squeezing your hand as he thanked her. “Honestly, thank you, Kitty. You really did help us get here.”

Kitty’s face softened and she laughed lightly. “Of course! I’m just happy to see you two so happy together.”

At that moment, everything felt perfect. You were with Jungwon and were surrounded by friends who were happy for you. It felt like the start of something new and beautiful, and you couldn’t help but feel grateful for everything that had led up to this moment. “Alright, alright,” you said, leaning into Jungwon as you all settled back down to enjoy the rest of the day. “Let’s just say that Kitty’s matchmaking skills are unmatched.”

Kitty shot you a wink. “Told you.”

And for the first time in a long time, you felt like everything was finally falling into place.

402 notes · View notes

419jhat · 1 day ago

Text

Steve becomes an actor. Eddie reacts to his movies while nursing his crush.

***

That Time He Got Naked

Steve had always been a good performer. Eddie watched him in school, putting on the face of a disaffected cool guy who was above everything around him. And he watched him put on a face of bravery for the kids when the end of the world was at their fingertips. When Steve got his first role, Eddie figured it made sense. He hadn't exactly been trained in acting, but he had a pretty face and the ability to do what he was told on a set.

When he got his second role, Eddie didn't pay much attention. Local art movies by Robin's college friends weren't that interesting to watch, in his opinion. But the third role was when it became a thing. That's when it started turning into a big deal. And before they knew it, a year later, Steve was in a real movie. A movie they could see in theaters and rent at family video. A movie people had actually heard of. The kind of movie everyone sat down to watch in support of their famous friend. Even if it was a just small role.

So, at the first available showing where the entire party could get together, Eddie found himself squished between Dustin and Nancy, watching Steve gasp and moan like it was his first time.

And Eddie's face was on fire.

Dustin had pulled his hoodie over his eyes.

Nancy was sitting straight as a telephone pole.

Jonathan leaned over and asked her, “Was he really like that?” Which made her smack him on the arm and tell him to shut up.

Eddie could barely pay attention. He was too busy wondering, as he stared at Steve's bare ass taking up half the screen, if Steve had been hitting the gym to tone up just for this scene because-

He needed to stop thinking about it before he made it even more awkward for everyone.

When Steve called him a week later, he could barely talk without stuttering like a fool.

“So, what did you think? Maria said I was really convincing but she was in the scene with me. She kind of has to say that,” Steve said.

Eddie thought that the sight of Steve's ass had been imprinted on the back of his eyelids, because it was all he saw when he closed his eyes to sleep at night.

“It was good,” Eddie said awkwardly.

“That sex scene was so embarrassing. People keep asking me if it was hot. There is nothing hot about standing around your coworkers in a flesh colored jockstrap.”

“Mm-hmm,” Eddie said, trying not to imagine a scenario where Steve was his coworker, and that was his uniform.

That Time He Died

The next time they met up to watch a Steve movie, nobody had warned Eddie about its contents. Or, maybe they did and he'd ignored it because he didn't want to think about the little mole on the small of Steve's back that he'd discovered last time they watched a Steve movie.

Either way, Eddie was completely unprepared to watch Steve gasping for air while being beaten to death in an alley.

“Ugh, I can't watch this,” Robin muttered when it became clear what was happening. She ran out of the theater a few moments later when the scene didn't end quickly enough.

Lucas was on Eddie's other side, cringing with each brutal punch. Steve was letting out pathetic, wet whimpers, his face literally crunching under the main actor's fists.

Eddie knew it was fake. The blood was kind of excessive and there was just no way you could rearrange someone's face like that with your bare hands. But watching Steve's eyes go glassy made Eddie feel sick.

He got up too.

He found Robin standing next to a water fountain, just staring at it.

“Thirsty, Buckley?”

She jumped.

“Oh. No,” she said, stuffing her hands in the pickets of her jacket. “I just dream about that kind of stuff a lot.”

Eddie nodded. “I get it. It's different when we've seen him hurt before.”

Behind them, the theater door swung open. Dustin paused when he saw them, and then propped it open with his foot. The rest of the party followed.

“I guess we're leaving early, huh?” Nancy asked.

Everyone nodded.

“Nobody tells Steve,” Robin warned.

When Steve called him the next day, he kept his mouth shut.

“You were terrifying,” Eddie said.

“You sure? I think I was supposed to be more pathetic than anything else.”

“I mean, that too. But it was super gory, so I think the whole theater was freaked out.”

“Neat,” Steve said. “You know, I'm going to be in Chicago this weekend. We should hang out!”

“I'd love that!” Eddie said too quickly.

Steve laughed and asked, “maybe you can show me around?”

“Yeah, you can stay at my place!” Eddie said.

And then he looked around his apartment and cringed. “On second thought, you can get a hotel if you don't want to deal with the mess.”

“I love the mess. It's you,” Steve said.

Eddie wasn't sure if he was supposed to be offended or not.

That Time He Cried

The next movie wasn't much better. This time, Eddie came prepared. This time, Steve didn't get naked or die. What he hadn't anticipated was that there were other terrible things that could happen, like watching the man he'd held a crush on for years now scream and sob because he lost the will to live after his wife died.

Eddie honestly didn't know that Steve could sound like that. The anguish in his voice at the funeral scene, the pain in his eyes. It was raw, and difficult to face.

There wasn't a dry tear in their row.

“I do not like this one,” El whispered to Eddie.

“Why is he always miserable in these movies?” Max muttered. She had her shoulders up to her ears and her arms crossed, like she could hold the tears back if she wound herself up tight enough.

“Well. He seemed pretty happy in the first one,” Eddie said.

Max punched him in the shoulder.

Steve's phone call came that evening.

“Dude, I think you broke everyone's hearts. I didn't even know you could cry like that,” Eddie said.

Steve huffed a laugh into the receiver. “My agent told me to think of something sad.”

“What did you think of?” Eddie asked. He instantly wanted to smack himself in the forehead. Why would Steve share that with him? To his shock, Steve hummed, like he was thinking.

“I thought about how I felt when we thought Max was dead,” he said quietly. “Obviously, it's not like that between us. She's basically my sister at this point. But…it was the first time I'd ever lost someone but cared about. Someone I was supposed to protect.”

Eddie's heart melted into a million pieces.

“Steve. I think you should invite her to visit you. She loves you too,” he said softly.

“Yeah,” Steve said slowly, “the only thing is that Dustin would lose his shit if she visited first.”

“Oh, don't worry, I'll keep him distracted for you,” Eddie said.

“With Dragons and Dickwads?” Steve asked.

“You know it.”

That Time He Proposed

Eventually, Steve broke his curse of misery and managed to get a lead role in a rom com. Eddie hated it more than anything else. Watching him fall in love with the human equivalent of a shallow puddle pissed Eddie off more than anything else had in a long time. Steve's pretty eyes, staring at her. Steve, so visibly in love with someone who didn't deserve him. Steve, doing stupid shit to make her take him back when he hadn't done anything wrong in Eddie’s completely unbiased opinion.

It made Eddie want to tear his hair out.

The real cherry on top was Steve proposing to her at the end, because of-fucking-course the movie ended that way. That kind of heteronormative love at first sight, get married and have kids bullshit the media always pandered to, drove him up the wall. Steve did all the work. He set up a cheesy outdoor surprise at the beach and dropped to one knee while everyone in the background of the scene clapped like a bunch of lemmings.

“This is so fucking stupid,” Eddie said.

“Tell me about it,” Mike said.

“God, I hate romance movies," Eddie said.

“They always suck,” Mike agreed.

“Steve would never do that! He doesn't like big grand gestures!” Eddie said.

“What?” Mike asked.

“He's a very private person!”

“Eddie…that's not Steve. That's Chris. Steve’s character,” Erica said.

“I- I know that. I'm just saying,” Eddie sputtered.

“Can you all shut the fuck up?” Max hissed.

Steve called him a week later, and by then, Eddie had forgotten all about it up until Steve started waxing poetic about how romantic it all was. Ugh.

“Wait, I thought you didn't like that kind of stuff,” Eddie interrupted.

“Oh. No, I don't. But in the context of the movie, it was supposed to be.”

“So…what kind of romance do you like?” Eddie asked casually.

“Gonna surprise me with something, Munson?” Steve asked.

“Wha- no, I just-” Eddie stuttered.

Steve interrupted him with a laugh. Then, he suddenly asked, in a sinfully soft voice, “when are you going to visit me?”

Eddie's heart skipped a beat.

“Uh, I don't know. Tattooing doesn't pay for a California vacation yet,” he said nervously.

“You could move out here,” Steve said. “There's a ton of people wanting tattoos in LA.”

“I don't know if all that sun would agree with me,” Eddie joked.

“Youcouldmoveinwithme,” Steve blurted out.

“Hmm?” Eddie asked, twisting the phone cord around his thumb.

“You could move in with me,” Steve said.

Eddie nearly dropped the phone. He sat up straight and looked at his hands like they couldn't tell him what he'd really heard, because there was no way Steve was being serious.

“Eddie?” Steve asked.

“I'm here. Good one, Steve,” he said with a forced laugh, “like you'd want me messing up your place. Anyway, got anything else going on?”

Steve didn't reply for a moment. When he did, he told him about some party he'd gone to. And Eddie forgot about the offer completely.

That Time He Was a Villain

Thankfully, Steve's next film was wildly different from the others. This time he was the bad guy. Eddie found it kind of thrilling to watch him parade around with the confidence of an unapologetic piece of shit. The way he led the main characters around like he had them on a leash, the way he looked when he was in charge. It made Eddie's pathetic little heart shiver.

Steve made a sexy villain.

Unfortunately for Eddie, nobody else seemed to agree. As they left the theater, all the kids were grumbling under their breath.

“I thought he was cool in that role,” Eddie said.

“He was such an asshole!” Dustin said.

“I can't believe he was so mean to Miranda! He didn't have to be such a bad husband!” Max said.

“It was the look in his eyes. Like he thought it was all fun,” Erica said with disgust.

“Once a douche, always a douche,” Mike muttered.

Nancy lifted an eyebrow. “You guys know that it was just a character, right? Steve didn't actually endorse any of that stuff.”

“He chose the role,” Dustin muttered. “I hope Hollywood isn't ruining him.”

Eddie was pretty sure they just missed him.

Steve called him three days later.

“Do you think I'm turning into an asshole?” he asked without saying hello.

“Dustin’s just being stupid,” Eddie said.

“He says I'm regressing back into my high school days!”

“That's dramatic,” Eddie said with a laugh, “he didn't even know you in high school.”

“Exactly!”

“I thought you were cool in your latest movie,” Eddie said.

“What?”

“I mean, you are a bit of an ass, but it shows your skill.”

“Wait, is that what this is about? I thought I missed his birthday or something!”

“Oh, no. They just don't like seeing you play the bad guy.”

“Oh my God, that is so fucking-”

That Time He Fell In Love With A Man

Eddie didn't know what was coming next. Steve had been in a wide variety of roles at this point, so when he sat down in the theater with a bucket of popcorn, he did not expect to witness the crush of his life, holder of his soul, dream of all dreams, to be making out with another man.

Eddie nearly threw his popcorn at the screen out of sheer shock.

“Buckley, did you know about this!?” he hissed to Robin.

“Yeah, I thought it was really brave,” she said softly.

“What do you mean? Because he's straight?”

Robin slowly turned to look at Eddie with an eyebrow lifted.

“...what?” she asked.

Eddie wasn't paying attention. He turned back to watch. It was beautiful. It was nothing like what he'd expected. Explicit love between two men, on screen for the world to see. He didn't even have it in himself to get jealous. For the first time, Eddie couldn't see Steve. He saw the story. He could see himself in the way Steve's character looked at his lover. The way they hid their feelings for each other in public. The film ended with Steve's character passing away in a car accident. It made Eddie cry. Eddie hadn't cried in a theater in years.

He left the building feeling raw.

The others were raving about the film, talking about how it would push Steve's career to the next level. No comments about it being weird or gross.

“Robin, why would he choose that role?” Eddie asked quietly.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“I mean, did he do it for Will or something?”

Robin turned to Eddie with her hands on her hips, looking very much like Steve with the level of judgement in her eyes.

“Eddie…when you said Steve was straight. Were you being serious?”

Eddie just blinked at her. “Of course I was. He is straight.”

“Are you stupid?” she asked. Eddie opened his mouth to reply, but she didn't let him. “Where have you been the last few years? Has that apartment of yours been lined with lead?”

“What-”

“Eddie, he calls you almost every week!”

“He calls everyone-”

“He stays at your place when he's in town!”

“It's cheaper-”

“He is a successful actor! He has no reason to stay in your apartment, which is always covered in dirty clothes!”

“Hey, I try to keep it-”

“Last time I was there, your underwear was hanging on the bathroom doorknob!”

“Listen, I told you I can explain that-”

“Eddie, he asked if you wanted to move in with him!”

Eddie opened and closed his mouth a couple of times. Now that he thought about it, he did recall Steve joking about that. But it had just been a joke. Right?

“I thought he was being nice?” Eddie offered.

“Oh my god, you are so stupid,” Robin said.

“Wait, so let me get this right. Steve isn't straight. And he's interested in me!?”

Robin punched him in the shoulder. “Go call him, you dumbass.”

Eddie turned and ran all the way home without even saying goodbye. By the time he made it to his phone, he was gasping for air after running up three flights of stairs. And for the first time in years, he called Steve after watching his movie.

“Hello?”

Eddie could only gasp for air.

“...listen if this is some kind of prank-”

“No! Wait! It's me!” Eddie gasped.

“Eddie?” Steve asked.

“I saw your new movie,” Eddie said, brushing his hands out of his face with a shaking hand, “why didn't you ever tell me?”

Steve was silent for a moment.

“Tell you what?” he finally asked.

“That you like men!”

“I'm sorry?” Steve asked, sounding shocked.

Eddie's face was on fire. Had he somehow completely misunderstood Robin's point? Should he have stayed beyond to make sure?

“Eddie, did you not know that?” Steve asked.

“What! Of course, I didn't! If I had known that I would have-” Eddie cut himself off, too embarrassed to even say it.

“You would have what?” Steve goaded.

“It doesn't matter,” Eddie mumbled.

“No, I think it does,” Steve said.

“It's not a big deal,” Eddie said.

“I think it is,” Steve said.

Eddie bit his bottom lip, letting his feelings fester inside him until they finally exploded in the form of him shouting, “I would have asked you out!”

“And I would have said yes,” Steve said instantly.

“Really?” Eddie asked softly.

“I mean…I've been crazy about you for years,” Steve said.

“Why didn't you say anything!? Do you know how crazy you drove me last time you stayed here? You can't hold a man in bed like that and not expect him to fall in love!”

“I- uh, thought you didn't feel the same,” Steve said, sounding embarrassed. Eddie closed his eyes and sighed. Robin was right. He was so stupid.

“Steve, I feel the same and I want to ask you to be with me for the foreseeable future,” Eddie said boldly.

“The foreseeable future? Not just a date?” Steve asked.

“I am well past wanting a single date, to be honest.”

“Oh wow. Well, I've been looking for a boyfriend,” Steve said.

“I might even surprise you with something romantic,” Eddie said with a smile.

#steddie #steve x eddie #steddie fic #stranger things #steddie drabble #check out my ao3

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leclerc-hs · 2 days ago

Text

save a bull! part 2 - cl16

pairing: bull rider!charles leclerc x fem!reader summary: in which a city girl meets a cowboy OR charles finds himself infatuated with the visiting city girl warnings: language, NOT PROOFREAD, smut under the cut!, bad writing? word count: ~3k author's note: SURPRISE SHAWTYYYYY! hiiiiiiii I missed you all SOO much. I'm sorry if this isn't good I'm really really rusty on my writing since it's been a few months but I'm trying to get back into it. if you hate this I'm SORRY lol but I love u all and I hope you like it anyways. xoxo let me know what you want to see next.

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The tension is palpable, a charged current zipping through the air as his touch seems to melt every bit of composure you had left. His grip on your back is firm, but not forceful—just enough to make you aware that he’s in control of this moment.

He doesn’t pull away, doesn’t back down, his eyes locked on yours like he’s daring you to argue, daring you to say something that will break the silence. But all you can think about is how his breath feels on your skin, how his fingers leave a trail of heat where they touch.

Your brain momentarily froze. In no fucking world, would I let you wear anyone’s but mine.

You could feel the flush of your cheeks start to burn not only from the alcohol consumed but his confession. The heat of his fingers seeping through the thin material of your dress was just the icing on the cake.

He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, leaning forward so the edges of his lips graze your ear. “You want a hat, you take mine.”

He pulls his head back a few inches, his eyes dipping to your lips for a brief second that doesn’t go unnoticed by you.

“You’re insane.”

“You keep calling me crazy,” he says, his voice low, gravelly, “but you’re the one standing right here, aren’t you?”

“Delusional.” Your pulse races, lips parting slightly, as if you might say something else, but all that comes out is a shallow breath.

His fingers sprawl across your lower back, pulling you towards him even closer if possible.

“So you’re telling me that if I slipped my hand up your little dress right now, you wouldn’t be soaked?”

You don’t know what to say. He’s got you right where he wants you.

“Maybe I like crazy,” you finally murmur, your voice betraying the nerves simmering beneath the surface.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, his breath mixing with yours. “I thought you might.”

The days since that night have been a blur. His words echo in your mind, louder than anything else, like a broken record. You’ve tried to push it down, tried to bury it with distractions, anything that would stop you from thinking about the way his fingers lingered on your skin, the way his eyes burned into yours. But the more you push, the more it pulls.

And now, here you are, waiting for him again.

“I can’t believe we have to go back to the city in a few days already.” Abigail groans— the two of you sprawled in the grass, just staring out at the open fields.

You looked down at the grass, your fingers ripping some of it to play with. “I can’t believe I’m sad to leave.”

You both fall into fits of laughter. “Yeah, but that’s just cause of a certain cowboy.”

You shake your head, looking at Abigail with the biggest smile. “I’ve never felt so at peace like this before. The quiet is nice.”

You fall into a comfortable silence for a few moments, letting the harsh sun beat on your skin.

“So when is he coming to get you?”

You open your mouth to answer, but the sound of a pick-up truck turning on the gravel of the driveway has you shutting it.

Abigail moves to stand up, her hands reaching down towards you to pull you up from the grass, then turns to Charles, who is slipping out the driver side door with a smile pulled on his mouth.

“Don’t keep her out too late or she’ll be grounded.” Abigail jokes, which earns her a small smack to her arm from you.

He dips his head, tilting his hat towards the both of you, “Don’t worry, she’s in good hands.” His voice is low, laced with something you can’t quite place—something that makes it feel like he is the one making the promises, not you.

Abigail gives a final wink to you before heading back into the house, leaving you both alone.

You watch her walk away, trying to pretend you didn’t feel that little jolt in your chest. But as soon as she’s out of an earshot, Charles turns his attention back to you, his gaze more intense than before.

“So, you ready for a ride?” He asks, the corner of his mouth curling into something dangerously close to a smirk.

You hesitate, “And if I said no?”

He chuckles, and its like the sound rolls right through you, making your heartbeat pick up. “Not if you want to earn that cowboy hat,” he says, the teasing glint in his eyes.

The soreness settles in deep, a quiet ache in your muscles you didn’t even know you had. Horseback riding hadn’t seemed like such a workout when Charles first suggested it—hell, you thought it would be a relaxing, leisurely ride through the fields.

But now, after hours spent clinging to the saddle, your body is sending you sharp reminders of how much work it actually takes to stay upright and in control. Your thighs are tight, your lower back sore, and every small movement feels like effort.

As you stretch out your arms, trying to relieve some sort of tension, you can’t help but smirk. You’d never expected a day with Charles to feel like this— like you’d been put through the paces, not just by the horse, but by him too.

It’s the subtle shifts in his movements, the way he guides the horse with just a slight tug of the reins, his eyes constantly scanning the horizon, and the way his hand brushes against yours when he reaches for the reins that keeps your attention.

“You alright there?” His voice is low, teasing, but there’s a hint of something more when he looks you over, taking in the way you’re moving a little more carefully than earlier.

You roll your shoulders. “I feel like I just ran a marathon on a horse.”

He laughs, his eyes lighting up. “That’s the price of learning how to ride. But you did good, yeah?”

The way he says it, like its a compliment, makes you stand a little taller despite the soreness. “I didn’t expect it to be so…intense,” you admit, trying to ignore the way his gaze lingers just a second too long on your lips.

“Nothing about this place is every just easy,” he says with a shrug. “But, I guess that’s what makes it worth it.”

The weight of his hand at your back sends a warm shiver up your spine, a subtle pressure thats both grounding and electric. You try not to focus too much on the way his touch seems to anchor you, or the way your pulse quickens with every step toward the open field.

The picnic is simple—just a blanket, a few baskets, and a clear view of the sun slowly starting its descent, casting a warm, golden glow over the land. It’s the kind of peaceful scene that feels too much like a dream. And yet, it’s real.

As you both settle onto the blanket, Charles moves with an easy confidence, reaching for the baskets without breaking the quiet tension that lingers in the air.

“You hungry?” His voice is casual.

You nod, still not quite sure how to handle the way your body feels with him so close. There’s something about his presence that makes it hard to think straight, hard to remember you’re supposed to be relaxing.

“I think I could eat,” you reply, your voice softer than usual. Your eyes flick up to meet his, and you catch the subtle way his lips curl into a half-smile, like he knows exactly what you’re thinking without needing to hear it.

He uncorks a bottle of wine, and pours a glass for the both of you.

The quiet stretches again, comfortable yet heavy, as you both settle in.

Charles leans back, resting on his elbows, his eyes never leaving you as you take a sip of wine. “You know,” he says after a beat, his voice low and thoughtful, “I didn’t think I’d be sharing a moment with you like this today.”

You swallow hard, your fingers tightening slightly around your glass as you glance over at him. “What do you mean by that?”

His smirk softens into something almost like a grin, “You didn’t think you’d be here, either, did you?”

You want to brush it off, act like its just another evening out here, but something in the way he says it makes your chest tighten. You hesitate for a moment before finally responding. “Guess not. Guess I didn’t know what I was getting into.”

The air shifts around you as he watches, his gaze intense and focused, like he’s weighing his next move. “Well, I hope you’re not regretting it.”

You place the barely touched glass of wine in your hand, onto the grass, and then turn to Charles. Your heart races, and for a split second, you’re sure he’s talking about more than just the picnic.

Your gaze drifts down to the hat resting beside him, the brim casting a shadow over the worn denim of his jeans. It sits there, between you two, almost purposefully. The thought hits you unexpectedly—the way its placed, almost like a bridge, an offering, a challenge.

There’s something oddly magnetic about it, the way it ties him to the land, to this place, to who he is. The fact that it’s so close, just inches away, and yet you feel like you have to earn it somehow.

You glance back up to find him watching you, his eyes lingering on yours with that quiet intensity, like he's aware of your thoughts without you needing to voice them. There’s no teasing, no playful smirk this time—just that still, steady gaze. And for a moment, it feels like everything is poised on the edge of something important.

His fingers twitch, like he's fighting the urge to reach out, to pull the hat closer or to pull you closer.

"You thinking about it?" he asks, his voice quieter now, almost too casual, like he’s pretending he doesn’t know exactly what you’re thinking.

You blink, and your heartbeat picks up a fraction of a beat. "What do you mean?"

"The hat," he says, almost like it's obvious, though there’s a small glimmer in his eyes that tells you he knows what it’s really about. “You ever worn one before?”

You shake your head slowly, the question hanging in the air, the tension between you both thickening with the simple exchange.

His hand moves just slightly, like he’s about to offer it to you, but he pauses, letting the silence stretch for a moment too long.

"You know," he says, his voice low, as if the words are meant only for you, "it doesn’t look right on just anyone."

The weight of that statement settles over you like a slow burn, and your thoughts race, caught between wanting to prove him wrong and knowing, deep down, that this—whatever this is—has already shifted something inside you.

Fuck it.

You know he’s watching the way your fingers dance along the brim, your thumb tracing the edges as if you’re deciding whether to make the commitment or leave it in its place between you two.

Your fingers continue to toy with the edges of the brim, before you grasp it in between the pads of your fingers, picking it up thoughtfully as you weigh the symbolism of it. It feels heavier than it should in your hands.

“Don’t tease me.” His gaze never leaves you, steady and unblinking, as though he’s waiting for you to put the hat back onto the blanket again.

You could easily put it on, feel it settle on your head, feel his presence there with you. Finally, you look up at him.

“You said it doesn’t look right on just anyone,” you murmur, your voice low, like the words are meant for you and him only. “But what if it fits?”

The air seems to thicken, the question more loaded than it should be.

He shifts his hips just slightly, still leaned on the back of his elbows as he stares at you. “You’re not just anyone.”

It’s a statement more than an answer. And it leaves your stomach in knots as you raise the hat to your head, pausing before it touches the hairs of your head.

“Trying to figure out if this is going to be some cruel joke.” He groans. “Don’t do it, unless you mean it.” His voice is rough.

You place it on your head, looking at him with a wicked smirk and glint in your eyes. “What was it you said about me liking crazy?”

He gives you no more than two seconds, before he’s sitting up from his arms and quite literally yanking you onto his lap. Your legs straddle him, and you want nothing more than to rub yourself against him.

His eyes trace every feature of your face and then land back on your eyes. The look on his face so serious, you wonder if he’s alright.

“Just kiss me alr-“

Your words are cut off almost instantly as the palm of his hand swallows the back of your neck and pulls your lips down to his. You can feel the vibrations of his groan into the kiss, and you feel like you might combust right then and there.

Your hips rut against his lap involuntary as his tongue slips into your mouth like he owns it. There’s no more teasing. His own mouth takes over yours in deep, intoxicating kisses, that have you arching for more.

His hands glide down the swell of your back, before landing on your hips and guiding them to work against his groin.

The tantalizing touches create a surge of heat forming in your stomach, before you pull away from him, his eyes glazed with a sort of hunger it seems only you can fill for him. You lift your hips from his for a second, giving him time to unbutton your jeans and yank them off of your body, while he finds the time to unbutton his and pull them down halfway.

“I don’t think I can wait.” You seem to say, your voice laced with desire at the sight of his hardened cock before you.

“So don’t.” He huffs, before pulling you down on him, his mouth overpowering yours instantly. You start to lower yourself, more than ready to quench this thirst you’ve had for days.

He hisses through his teeth when the head of his cock slides between your thighs. His fingers lock on your hip, stopping you from getting any lower. “I need to know you’re 100 percent about this.”

“I’m half nude in the middle of a field for you, what do you think?”

“I’m serious.” He grits, he sounds almost pained as he feels just how soaked you are against the head of his cock. “You do this, and you’re mine.”

Your eyes meet his in this moment and you feel your heart pounding against your chest. “Does that make you mine too?”

“I’ve been yours since you stepped foot in this town.” He says, like he didn’t even have to think about a response. Like it was in his nature.

“Good.”

You drop your hips down further, effectively slamming him right into you. You both cry out at the pressure, the stretch, and the depth he’s hitting you with at this angle. It’s all perfect.

“Oh my fuck.” He tenses. "You look fucking unreal in my hat."

You grind against him, like you cant get enough, as he fucks up into you as merciless as possible. Its as if neither of you can get close enough. His arms envelop you as he pulls you back, letting him fall to his back as thrusts into you powerfully.

“Charles,” you whisper. “I need..”

You don’t even know what you need. All you know is that you need more of him.

“Yeah?” His voice is low, so rough in your ear, you could come just from hearing it. “Fucking gripping me like you’re gonna come.”

His voice is hoarse as he slips a hand down your back, gripping your ass in his hands and pushing you to meet his thrusts even harder.

It doesn’t take the long. You both shatter completely, groaning and moaning against the blanket.

“Oh fuck.” His arms are tense as he snaps his hips into you, dropping his head back against the blanket as you careen forward with a cry. You both can hear the squelch of the both of you, and it somehow makes it even hotter as he keeps going.

You sag against his chest and it rises and falls deeply as you both come down from the high.

“My god sweetheart.” He chuckles, his fingers sweeping your hair behind your ear as you lift your head to look at him. His cock still inside of you.

“Yeah, you’re mine alright.” He says it like he’s talking to himself. He probably is.

You smile, dropping your face back into his chest.

Yeah, you are. But how could you keep him when you're leaving in just a few days?

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fic #f1 imagine

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cxffecoupx · 7 hours ago

Text

seungcheol's mad. the members know just how to calm him down.

"YN! yn! you need to come to the practice room right now. seungcheol's furious!"

that's all you need to know before you leave your office in the pretext of grabbing lunch and head towards seungcheol's company building. even in the crazy traffic of the afternoon, the only thing running in your mind is the image of your angry boyfriend, eyes wide and lips pouted in annoyance.

which is exactly what greets you when you reach the boys' usual dance practice room that seungkwan called you to. you push open the door and see a few of them sitting down, faces pale from exhaustion, a few scattered doing some random tasks, and jeonghan standing next to seungcheol, chewing on his lips.

but seungcheol doesn't notice anything: he doesn't notice the way chan gently tugs at his shirt; the way his teammates take tense, heavy breaths in worry; the way jeonghan now pats his back, and certainly not your arrival into the room. you sidle over to seungkwan, who's face melts into relief at seeing you. he pulls you aside to brief you about the situation.

"the thing is, last week, we were told that we could take tomorrow off. but then they came in a few minutes ago, saying that we'd have extra practice tomorrow, since they pushed the broadcast recording a week earlier," he takes a moment to pause and looks over at seungcheol, who's still very unaware of everything around him.

"hyung's losing his mind because we'd all made individual plans for tomorrow. some of us were gonna go home for the weekend..." seungkwan's lips turn into a pout as he becomes aware of the fact that now he won't be able to. you turn around to look at your boyfriend.

"i want you to tell us why you preponed the date without consulting us first. it's not the extra practice we're worried about. it's the fact that you didn't care to ask us in the first place! aren't we the artists- no, i need you to listen to me right now- don't tell me to calm down!"

your lips press together in concern as you walk over to him. he doesn't see you even when you're standing right beside him, more intent on getting his point across.

"we've been working overtime since last month..."

"seungcheol..." you call him.

"...and yet, we haven't gotten a single break day-

"seungcheol."

"-and then you expect us to do our best and get more wins-"

"love..."

you hold his chin with your hand and gently turn his face towards you. the sudden shift in his glance is noticed only by you. the angry, outraged expression of his turns into a soft, meek look with just a single touch, sparkles automatically forming in his eyes as they focus on you. the staff beside you bows and leaves the room. your eyes follow them until they shut the door before moving back to his.

he slumps into your hand as you lean in to press a kiss, and wraps his around you, body feeling heavy. jeonghan nods and you lead seungcheol out into the breakroom.

his face still hangs low, lips losing their pout only when you press your lips to them. his frown turns into the smallest of smiles.

"thanks for getting me out of there. i was starting to lose my mind."

"kwan told me you were furious. i had to come running," you hold his cheek and he leans into your touch. his stomach grumbles in response.

"you might have been a little hangry back then. come on, let's get you some food," you drag him out of the building to a cafe nearby you often visit.

"sho you mean to shay you'd alwaysh come for me?" he mumbles through a mouthful of the hideously large croissant he'd ordered, a few crumbs and some chocolate filling dusting his lips.

"i don't like to be rushed..." you lean forward to wipe it off with your thumb with a fond smile, before licking it off.

"...but for you, i'd always come running."

inspired from this video on twitter (that completely, absolutely destroyed me because LOOK AT HIM?! adorable pouty cutie pie

#svt #seventeen #svt x reader #seventeen × reader #seventeen imagines #svt scenarios #svt imagines #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #seventeen seungcheol #choi seungcheol #seungcheol fluff #scoups #seventeen scoups #svt scoups #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol imagines #scoups fluff #articles.ris

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mapis-putellas · 11 hours ago

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𝑫𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒅/𝑶.𝑩𝒂𝒕𝒍𝒍𝒆

Ona had been off all morning. You’d noticed it the second you woke up beside her. She’d been quieter than usual, taking longer than normal to get ready, her mind clearly elsewhere as she pulled on her training gear. Even on the drive to the training ground, she’d been distracted, fingers drumming against the steering wheel, barely responding when you spoke.

It wasn’t like her. Ona was always so present, so engaged. When she was with you, she was with you. But today, she was somewhere else entirely.

You didn’t push, though. You figured she’d tell you when she was ready.

It was only when you were standing on the sidelines watching training that you realised just how much of a distraction whatever was on her mind actually was.

She was playing poorly, uncharacteristically sloppy with her touches, mistiming her runs, fumbling simple passes. Even the other players had started to notice, shooting her confused looks whenever she misplaced the ball.

And then it happened.

A sharp, powerful pass from Mapi, completely unintentional, but heading straight for Ona. She had plenty of time to react. Any other day, she would have controlled it perfectly, spun away from her marker, continued play like nothing had happened.

But she wasn’t paying attention. The ball smacked her square in the face, a loud, unmistakable sound, and she went down immediately.

You were on your feet before you even realised it, heart leaping to your throat as you rushed onto the pitch, ignoring the amused whistles from a few players and the exasperated sighs from the coaching staff.

“Ona!” You dropped to your knees beside her, hand cupping her face, your stomach twisting at the sight of the blood trickling from her nose. “Oh my god, baby, are you okay?”

She groaned, squeezing her eyes shut. “Me duele…”

You reached for the hem of your sleeve, gently pressing it to her nose, ignoring the way she winced and the red that now stained your shirt. “That looked brutal. You weren’t even looking.”

She peeked at you, face scrunched in discomfort. “No lo vi.”

“No, you didn’t,” you said, exasperated. “What is going on with you today?”

Before she could answer, Mapi appeared beside you, guilt all over her face. “Mierda, Ona, lo siento. I didn’t mean to-“

“Yeah, yeah,” Ona grumbled, still holding her nose. “You just have a rocket for a foot.”

Mapi winced. “It’s not broken, right?”

You shot her a glare. “If it is, I’m fighting you.”

Ona let out a pained laugh. “No pelees con Mapi.”

“Then tell me what’s wrong,” you shot back.

Her cheeks flushed, but before she could say anything, the team’s medical staff finally reached her, gently nudging you aside as they examined her nose.

“It’s not broken,” one of them confirmed after a moment, dabbing away the blood with a piece of gauze. “But you’re going to have some swelling.”

Ona sighed in relief, though she still looked embarrassed.

Mapi clapped her shoulder. “Well, at least it’s not your lips.” She not so subtly gestured to you. You, who was still knelt next to her looking less than happy.

Ona glared at her. “Vete a la mierda.”

Mapi just grinned and jogged off, back towards Ingrid who was watching the whole situation from afar.

You, however, weren’t letting it go.

By the time you got back to her apartment, Ona was still oddly quiet, sitting at the edge of the bed, gingerly pressing an ice pack to her nose.

You stood in front of her, arms crossed. “Okay. Spill.”

She avoided your gaze. “Spill qué?”

You scoffed. “Don’t play dumb. You weren’t paying attention today. You got smacked in the face because you were too busy thinking. And I want to know what you were thinking about.”

She swallowed, still not looking at you.

“Ona.” You softened, stepping closer and crouching down before gently tilting her chin up so she had no choice but to meet your eyes. “Talk to me, baby.”

She exhaled shakily. “I…I wanted to ask you something.”

You frowned, brushing your thumb along the sharpness of her jaw. “You can ask me anything. You know that.”

She hesitated for a long moment before finally saying, “Move in with me.”

Your breath hitched. “What?”

Her grip on the ice pack tightened slightly. “I was going to ask you. Today. But then I got nervous, and I started overthinking, and then-“ She gestured vaguely to her face.

Your chest ached, but not from worry this time.

“Ona,” you murmured, voice soft.

She swallowed. “I know we spend most nights together anyway, but I want-I want it to be always. I want you here. With me.”

Your heart swelled. You leaned in, brushing your nose ever so gently, against hers, smiling when she sighed softly at the touch. “Of course I’ll move in with you, baby.”

Her eyes flickered up to yours, hope flickering in them. “Sí?”

You kissed her, light and tender. “Sí.”

She let out a breath of relief, her hands coming to rest on your waist, pulling you closer.

“Though,” you added, a teasing lilt to your voice, “maybe next time you have a big question to ask, don’t let it distract you so much that you get smacked in the face?”

She groaned, burying her face in your shoulder. “Dios mío, nunca voy a vivir esto.”

You laughed, arms wrapping around her. “Nope. Never.”

She squeezed you tighter. “I love you.”

You pressed a kiss to her hair. “I love you too, baby. And I can’t wait to live with you.”

Tags:

@ceesimz @marysfics @girlgenius1111 @codiemarin @simp4panos @silentwolfsstuff @goldenempyrean @xxnaiaxx @liloandstitchstan @ktgoodmorning @chelseacult

#ona batlle x reader #ona batlle #ona batlle x you #woso community #woso x reader #woso appreciation #woso imagine #fluff #woso fanfics #woso one shot

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goldfades · 3 days ago

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past relationships, exes and flings | chapter two, DAYLIGHT

free palestine carrd 🇵🇸 decolonize palestine site 🇵🇸 how you can help palestine | FREE PALESTINE!

MASTERLIST

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 1.9k

⟢ ┈ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | after running into your ex, you and kylie have some reflection time. joe realizes that his hook-ups aren't fulfilling, but ja'marr reminds him of who he really is underneath all the hurt.

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | kinda angsty, mentions of past relationships, tay/reader bonding!! again, this is such a sloooow burn series so be ready

You weren’t sure who the Chiefs were playing.

Not that you hadn’t been trying to pay attention—you had, really—but somewhere between the first and second quarter, you realized you had absolutely no idea which team was on the other side of the field. It didn’t help that Taylor was curled into your side, an arm draped around your shoulders, squeezing you gently every time Travis did something remotely worth cheering for.

"You having fun?" she asked, her voice just loud enough to cut through the roar of the stadium.

You nodded, because it was easier than explaining that football games had never really been fun for you. They were just… familiar. A backdrop to your childhood, a constant in your life. You had been sitting in the stands for as long as you could remember, watching your brothers carve their way through the sport, watching them win, watching them lose. It wasn’t new. None of it was new.

But for Taylor, it was.

So you leaned into her warmth, let yourself cheer when she did, pretended like the weight in your chest wasn’t getting heavier and heavier with every passing minute.

It was easier that way.

After the game, you went out to eat.

Somewhere lowkey—well, as lowkey as you could get when you were with Taylor Swift—where the lights were dim and the noise was loud enough to drown out any lingering thoughts about the game.

You were finally starting to settle, finally letting yourself enjoy the post-game buzz, when you saw him.

Jayson.

The second you saw him, everything else in the restaurant faded.

The warm lighting, the distant clatter of plates, the low hum of conversation—it all became white noise, swallowed by the rush of blood in your ears. Jayson Tatum was here. Here. A few tables away, sitting with a group of people you didn’t recognize, laughing like he hadn’t once shattered you so thoroughly you weren’t sure you’d ever feel whole again.

Your stomach dropped, a sick twist knotting its way through your chest, because suddenly it was December again. Suddenly, you were back in the middle of that breakup, the most public, most humiliating moment of your life. You were reading the headlines, seeing your name next to his in bold, ugly letters, dissecting every photo, every quote, every little piece of your pain that had been turned into entertainment for the world to consume.

Travis stiffened beside you. He saw him too.

And if there was one thing about your big brother, it was that he had never been the type to think twice before throwing a punch when it came to protecting you.

“Let’s go,” he said, already pushing his chair back.

You barely had time to register his words before Taylor was tugging at your hand, her fingers warm and grounding against your wrist. “Come on, babe.”

You should’ve argued. Should’ve said something about how you weren’t going to let him ruin your night, that you didn’t care, that he didn’t affect you anymore. But you knew that would be a lie. You weren’t sure if you could even breathe properly right now, let alone sit here and pretend like seeing him didn’t send you spiraling back to the lowest point in your life.

So you left.

You weren’t even fully out the door before Travis was muttering, “Motherfucker. Just seeing his face makes me wanna—”

“Don’t,” you cut in, voice shakier than you wanted it to be. “Just—don’t, Trav.”

His jaw clenched, but he nodded, running a hand through his hair as he let out a sharp exhale. He was still wired, still pissed, but he wouldn’t push it. Not if you asked him not to.

Taylor, though, was quiet. Too quiet.

And when you turned to her, she was watching you with something so heavy in her eyes, something so full of understanding and sadness and anger that it nearly knocked the breath out of you.

She knew.

She’d known before—she knew the headlines, the surface-level details, the way the media had painted you in the aftermath—but now? Now, she really knew.

And suddenly, for the first time since it all happened, you wanted to talk about it.

The words came before you could stop them. “It wasn’t just the breakup.”

Travis and Taylor both looked at you, startled by the sudden admission.

You swallowed, throat tight. “It was—God, it was everything. He was in my life for so long, I—I thought it would always be that way. We had this stupid back-and-forth thing, and I let him—I let him treat me like I was disposable, like I was something he could just come back to whenever he wanted.” Your voice wavered, thick with something you didn’t want to name. “And then when it finally ended—really ended—it was so public. I couldn’t escape it. I’d open my phone and it was everywhere, people picking sides, making jokes, acting like—like it wasn’t my life that just fell apart.”

Taylor squeezed your hand, her grip firm. “I hate him.”

That pulled a watery laugh out of you, and you shook your head. “I think I do too.”

Travis was still tense, his hands flexing like he was trying to physically restrain himself from going back inside and doing something that would definitely end up all over the news. “I should’ve hit him when I had the chance.”

“I think you did have the chance,” you pointed out. “A couple times.”

“I should’ve hit him more.”

Taylor sighed, but there was amusement in it. “Okay, violence aside, let’s go home, yeah?”

You nodded.

And as the three of you walked toward the car, the weight on your chest didn’t feel quite as heavy anymore.

Kylie had a way of making things seem simpler. Not easy, but manageable. Like no matter how deep the hole you’d fallen into, she could always build you a ladder out of sheer willpower and stubbornness alone.

And right now, as you sat on the couch in her living room, surrounded by the chaos of her kids running in and out of the room, she was trying to do just that.

“I’m just saying,” she said, adjusting Bennett on her hip as she reached for her coffee, “heartbreak isn’t the end of the world. It feels like it is, trust me, I know. But it never actually is.”

You sighed, watching as Wyatt toddled over with a toy in hand, babbling about something you couldn’t quite decipher. Kylie reached down instinctively, ruffling her daughter’s hair before she turned back to you.

“I’ve been where you are,” she continued. “I mean, maybe not exactly where you are, because, you know—" she gestured vaguely, "—I wasn’t dealing with the entire world watching my love life implode. But still.”

You huffed out a laugh, rolling your eyes. “Glad someone finds my misery entertaining.”

“You know that’s not what I mean.” She shot you a look before taking a sip of her coffee. “I’m saying I get it. I get how much it sucks. I get how it feels like you’re never going to be okay again, like no matter what you do, you’re always going to have this big, gaping hole where he used to be.”

You swallowed, glancing down at your hands. Because, yeah. That was exactly how it felt.

Kylie sighed, shifting Bennett in her arms before nudging your knee with her foot. “But you will be okay again. Even if it doesn’t feel like it right now. Even if it takes a while. Because heartbreak sucks, but it doesn’t last forever.”

You let out a slow breath, looking up at her. “And what, exactly, is the secret to moving on?”

Kylie smirked. “Oh, there’s no secret. You just... do it. One day at a time. You wake up, you do your best, and then, one day, you realize it doesn’t hurt as much anymore.”

You stared at her. “That’s it?”

“That’s it.” She shrugged. “And if it makes you feel better, you will find someone else.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Absolutely.” Kylie grinned, shifting so she could reach for her phone. “And when you do, I fully expect to help you stalk him on Instagram and determine whether or not he’s good enough for you.”

You groaned. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Maybe.” She winked. “But I’m also right.”

You shook your head, but for the first time in a long time, the idea of moving on didn’t seem so impossible.

The locker room smelled like sweat, grass, and the faint, lingering staleness of protein powder. Preseason camp had been brutal—long days under the relentless August sun, drills that made even the veterans question why they ever picked up a football in the first place, and competition so fierce that the air always felt thick with something unspoken.

Joe sat at his locker, tape still wrapped around his knuckles from practice, shoulders tense as he stared down at his cleats like they held the answers to something he couldn’t quite put into words. He could feel the weight of his teammates around him—the easy banter, the occasional slap on the back, the sound of pads hitting the ground as guys peeled them off like second skin.

Ja’Marr plopped down beside him, kicking his own cleats off with a grunt. “You good, Joey B?”

Joe smirked slightly at the nickname but didn’t look up. “Yeah.”

“Uh-huh.” Ja’Marr leaned back, stretching his arms over the bench. “You’ve been acting weird, man.”

Joe exhaled through his nose, finally glancing over at his friend. “Weird how?”

“Weird like... I don’t know. You’re doing things, man.” Ja’Marr waved a hand. “Going out more. Talking to random girls. You—” He pointed at Joe. “—are acting like me.”

That made Joe huff out a quiet laugh. “And that’s a bad thing?”

“It’s a weird thing.” Ja’Marr eyed him. “That’s not you. You’re not a casual guy.”

Joe didn’t say anything.

Because Ja’Marr wasn’t wrong.

Joe had never been the type to chase after girls just for the hell of it. It wasn’t that he didn’t like women—he did. But he’d always been a relationship guy. A stability guy. The kind of guy who found one person and built something solid. That was just how he worked. It was how he thrived.

But now?

Now he didn’t have that.

And maybe that was why he’d been filling his time with meaningless interactions, fleeting distractions that never really amounted to anything. Because at least if he was doing something, he didn’t have to sit in the quiet and think about what was missing.

Ja’Marr sighed, shaking his head like he already knew what was running through Joe’s mind. “Look, man, I get it. Breakups suck. But this whole... whatever this is? Not you.”

Joe clenched his jaw, flexing his fingers against his knee. “Yeah, well. Maybe I need to figure out who I am without her.”

Ja’Marr studied him for a second before nodding slowly. “Fair enough.”

Joe appreciated that about him—Ja’Marr never pushed, never tried to psychoanalyze him the way some people did. He just... got it.

“But for real,” Ja’Marr added after a beat, standing up and stretching, “if you ever wanna talk, you know where to find me.”

Joe smirked. “Yeah. At the club.”

Ja’Marr grinned, tossing a towel at his face. “Damn right.”

Joe shook his head, watching as Ja’Marr walked off, leaving him alone with his thoughts once again.

And that was the thing.

No matter how many people surrounded him, no matter how much he tried to distract himself—at the end of the day, he still felt alone.

#joe burrow #joe burrow bengals #joe shiesty #joe burrow smut #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow x y/n #joe burrow x you #joe burrow x oc #bengals lb

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milkteabinniechan · 2 days ago

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♡Tunnel Vision - Minho

MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY MEMBERSHIP//M.LIST

pairing: bad boy! Minho x student! reader

summary: You can't stand the boy that sits behind you in class. He's rude, arrogant and a huge Playboy. and now you're paired with him for your newest poetry assignment.

warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, enemies to lovers, Playboy Minho, heavy kissing, groping.

It's not that you hated your new poetry course. Just one specific person in your new poetry class. Minho would show up late or sometimes not at all. And when he did bother to show up, he would sit at the desk behind yours. He would lean into your ear and ask you what he missed.

His breath would be warm against your neck and the first time he whispered, you actually felt butterflies. You were nice and smiled. You would turn your head and tell him in hushed tones what he had missed. He'd notice the slight flush in your cheeks and it would make him smirk because he knew. He knew that your head was pounding because of him.

But then one day after the class had ended a girl had pushed her way through a crowd of students to get to him. She yelled and cried because he never called her again. She told him he was an asshole and his response was “what's your name again?”

So now when Minho strolls into class late and takes his seat behind you, you keep your head forward. You suffocate the butterflies in your stomach and square your shoulders. You refuse to be another notch on that man's belt. You refuse to let him make you feel so warm and wet and so-

“I think I'll partner you with Minho this week.”

Your eyes flash to the front of the class where the teacher is looking directly at you. “No, no I can't. I…” you plead but the teacher just shakes his head and hands you the newest template for the poetry course this week.

Minho's dorm room was exactly as you expected. Messy, unkempt, a real boy's place. As the two of you stepped inside he off the cuff mentioned he had a roommate but the two of you should be undisturbed for the night.

“Who's your roommate?” You ask as you pull a few textbooks out of your bag. Your voice was flat and ultimately uninterested but you needed to make some kind of small talk to cut through this tension of being in Minho's living room. Minho rummaged through his fridge and pulled out a few beers before making his way back to you on the couch. “You don't know him.” He said quickly. He slid the second beer across his coffee table to you. You rolled your eyes and pushed it to the edge of the table and pulled out the template from class. “Let's get started, okay? The sooner we get this going, the sooner we can be done and never speak to each other again.”

Minho smirked, his slender fingers tapping against the neck of his beer bottle. “Aw, what's the matter? You don't like me?” He leaned in closer. “Nope.” You snapped back. This response made Minho laugh. A loud, full laugh that promised that he didn't believe you. He was cocky and he was sure that every girl wanted him. His eyes lingered on you as you continued to read over the template. “So, what bullshit do we have to write about now?” Minho asked while taking another swig of his beer. You sighed heavily in response. “Love. The subject is just love. It says to write about any kind of love, however it speaks to you.”

Minho let out a huff. “Between a beautiful woman's legs, that's the only love I need.” He remarks. “You're disgusting.” You retort. You slide a template over to where he sits, “just write something, pervert.” Minho's face scrunches up for a moment, “aren't we supposed to be working on this together, partner?”

“You're a big boy, you can handle it.” You scold, your hand gripping tightly to your pencil. “Just write.” Minho sighs loudly as his body slumps deeper into the couch. An hour goes by without either of you saying a word to one another. Just the sounds of pencils scraping and pages turning fills the air around you. “This is stupid.” Minho complains, finally breaking the silence. The sound of a pencil hitting the coffee table breaks you out of your writing trance and you shoot a glaring look at him. “If you hate this so much, why did you sign up for this class?” You quip back.

Minho's eyes flash an intensity that matches yours. An angry, exacerbated look that contracts with his normal cool and calm demeanor. Has he never had someone challenge him before? Has he never had a girl stand up to him instead of immediately falling to her knees? You hold your stance and the two of you stare at each other for what feels like an eternity. Then Minho grabs your half-written poem in an instant before you can even process what he is doing. He stands up from the couch and holds it ceremoniously. “Let's see what Miss Goody-Goody wrote about love, eh?” You fumble up from the couch and take a confident dive at Minho to try to get the paper back but miss as he pulls the paper away at the last minute. “Give that back!” You demand. But Minho holds the paper just out of reach, laughing proudly as he does. You look back at the coffee table to find his paper sitting there unprotected and take your chance, snatching it quickly into your hands. Minho's eyes widen as he realizes where this little chess game has led the two of you and his cheeks begin to burn a bright, hot red. His voice drops to a low, intimidating octane, “give it here. I'm serious.” His hand splayed out in front of you.

You let out a triumphant laugh and stick up your nose at him. “No way!” Minho smirk turns to a serious expression and he takes a few steps towards you, causing you to take a few steps back. Soon you are frantically trying to figure out your next move. You quickly fake left before turning to the right and easing your way around Minho and down the hall to an open door welcoming you inside. You hastily run into the room and shut the door behind you, hearing the pounding sound of Minho's palms flat against the other side of the door. “This isn't funny anymore! Come out of there!” He shouts from the hallway.

You clear your throat ready to read the poem out loud. Minho groans loudly before giving the door one last defeated thud. Your eyes scan the page and you find yourself frozen by something you did not expect.

A carnation bright

Unfold for me

This is everything and nothing

I put a ribbon and signed the envelope

Postage stamp

In the garden you wait

Surrounded by a soil that drains

Who waters you?

Where is the watering can that fills your petals, sweet Carnation?

I pluck you so carefully

Lie you down on the softest pillow

You've ever felt

You clutch the page in your hands, a slight tremble causing the paper to crinkle under your fingertips. Your eyes pour over every line again and again. The words are erased and written again, scribbled over and corrected. But the words he chose, the words he decided were the right ones to express himself, they stayed etched in pencil led with a secretive beauty. You slowly make your way to the bedroom door and turn the door knob. You find Minho sitting in the hallway across from the door. He glares up at you, his face painted red in embarrassment. “Don't say anything. I know it's bad.” He whispers, his voice shaking slightly.

You step out into the hallway and kneel in front of where Minho sits. “It's not bad, Minho. It's actually…good.” You confess. You watch Minho's head lift up as he searches your face for any hint of a lie. Then he lifts up your paper, “you didn't write anything.” He smirks.

Then it was your face that burned red. You had written a few pathetic lines of poetry before erasing everything in frustration. “I hate what I wrote. I hate everything I write.” you murmur. This causes Minho's smile to grow and spread across his face. But this smile was different, not a mocking, cocky smile but a smile that seemed to understand exactly what you meant. “That just means you're good at what you do. Come here, I'll show you.” He said and then stood up taking your hand in his and pulling you back into the bedroom. The bedroom that was, in fact, his bedroom. In the far corner of the room stood a tall, broad bookshelf so full that it almost looked like it would bend and break if just one more book was added. Minho searched the shelf for just a moment before pulling out three books. He then turned on his heels to face you. “These authors didn't even get published until their late 40s. Can you believe that? Now everyone reads them!” His eyes lit up with the kind of fascination designated for a child on Christmas morning. He placed the books in your hands and begged you to read them. You looked down at the books in your hands and furrowed your brow. This was not the boy you were expecting. Why did he have to act like such an asshole all the time? Why did he have to act so uninterested and bored all of the time?

You look up from the books and stare at Minho for a moment. “Why are you so afraid of people seeing this side of you?”

Minho jolts from your blunt question. His eyes lock with yours and for a moment his mouth hangs open in silence. Then he steps closer to you. “Because this side is too real, too raw. If they are the real me then they can hurt the real me. And I can't risk that.”

Something snaps in you at his response. You didn't know if it was his honesty or the fact that you had been feeling the exact same way but something outside of yourself brought your lips to his. His lips were surprisingly tender. His hands made their way up to your jawline and nestled there as the two of you worked in tandem. Your nose brushed against one another as his mouth opened in invitation. Your tongue scraped softly against his teeth, giving way to his teeth biting and holding onto your bottom lip. A soft and vulnerable noise escaped you at that moment. And a flash of all the women who have ever been in this room entered your mind, causing you to break the kiss. You stumble back and press your hand over your mouth. “I can't. I'm sorry.” You turn towards the bedroom door and make your way down the hallway to leave. You frantically and admittedly quite clumsily grab your book bag and jacket before making a b-line to the front door.

Minho never tried to stop you, never called your name out and begged you to stay. You walked back to your dorm room and threw yourself onto the bed. You bury your face in your pillow until all light leaves and only darkness remains. He wasn't just a fuckboy, player, or asshole. He was actually someone who you could fall in love with. And that thought was scarier than anything else.

taglist: @simply-trash5 @sugawhaaa @trixiekaulitz @chrizzztopherbang @cassidymb121 @roanns-posts @staysinbloom @yaorzu-blog @bubblebisk @cotton-candycloudz @beautyinhypnosis @domicaru @strawberry31 @slxtmeri @newhope8 @tinyelfperson @dandelions-143 @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @msauthor @fun-fanfics @ell0thebell @stephanieeeyang @juskz @kimahreummm @readr1221 @kayleefriedchicken @ovulatingrn @hwnglixho @darthmaddie25 @queen-in-the-shadows @itgirlalisaa @miinhoo @greyaia @chanchansgirly @skzleeknowcore @skz-smut-reader @thatisrankharry @hearts4yawnzzn @jchotch726 @cherricola-star @minh0scat @kibs-and-bits @minhosgirlposts @firelordtsuki @softkisshyunjin @doyunkang @cocofia143 @nchhuhi @iovecb97 @skzfairyyydreamz @mikeysonlygirl @kwitchabtchn @staystaystaystaaaaa @stay3096 @starmyteez @xanhnax @estella-novella @delulustardust @luvserie @stray-squad

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sesmiq · 1 day ago

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a night to remember Underneath the sheets, you enchanted me And whispered sweet nothings in my ear ‧₊˚🖇️ pairing: bottom male reader x secret one night stand ⤹warning: mister/sir kink ?, y/n being bratty,, soft/gentle sex, v vanilla, drunk reader, no condom D: (be safe aa), blowjob (receiving), fingering (receiving), door>table sex,,, aftercare!! always have aftercare ,, age gap(reader/y.n 21, one night stand 32) rlly rushed in general, not proof read, if this flop ill simply explode (ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ*: ･ﾟ 𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ word count: 3.3k

today was a shitty day. for y/n, at least, it started when his brand new shoes, in the worst color possibly, white- getting completely ruined when he stepped into dog’s poo. then, he checked his grades on his phone, only to see a big red F. on the class he needed to pass in order to graduate. the reason? one of his groupmate didnt do their part, even worse- they dont even attend the class! and now, because of that person, y/n wasnt going to graduate on time. y/n asked his other teammate who was the one that didnt do their part, he made sure to write down their name into his note app to (maybe) beat them up one day,, just when he thought his day couldnt get worse, he was on his way to his part time job before getting a text from his boyfriend. the message was short, a simple, “lets breakup.” he read the text over and over again, his boyfriend of 2 years- ending things without even a word of explanation, over text at that. y/n didnt go to his part time job that day, asking for a sick leave from his manager. his friends noticed that he looked down, then dragged him to a bar to distract him from whatever was in his head. shots. beer. loud music.. y/n drank everything his friend poured him as he listened to the other’s rant about how can his boyfriend just dump y/n like that. he just wanted to forget. after a few drinks in, feeling a little tipsy, y/n told his friends that hes gonna step out for a smoke and maybe fresh air. he leaned against the cold brick wall, he pulled out a cigarette and lit it, taking a long drag as he tried to calm his racing thoughts. ..its cold. maybe he shouldve borrowed his friend’s coat, He exhaled, watching the smoke curl up into the dark sky, when something warm and heavy draped over his shoulders. “??” he blinked, turning his head. Ah, this guy is handsome, he thought to himself, the stranger stood beside him, he looked like he's a few years older than y/n (maybe around his early 30s, he thinks.) , with messy dark hair, piercing black eyes and only wearing a black turtleneck with slacks. “youre shivering.” the man said, voice low and smooth, y/n glanced down at the coat, then back up at the man “‘m fine.” he slurred his words, swaying on his feet like hes gonna fall any moment. the guy huffed out a quiet laugh, “you sure?” “..’m not that drunk.” “mhm.”

“what are you? my mom?” the guy let out a breath that was somewhere between a laugh and a sigh, “go back in, you’re gonna freeze.” “dont wanna.” “dont be stubborn.” he huffed. “I’m not-” y/n stopped, blinking, as the words caught up with him. “..you’re annoying.” on impulse, y/n yank him forward, grabbing the front of the guy’s collar, pulling him down his height and then his mouth was on his. it wasn’t graceful. hell, it wasn’t even all that romantic. just messy. sloppy. drunken. but the guy kissed back. like hes not going anywhere. y/n wasnt sure how theyd get from the bar to an apartment? or motel, he couldnt tell. the door clicked shut behind and he barely caught it before nearly tripping over if it werent for the other’s steadying him by the waist. “you alright?” the man murmured, before he could say anything, he was pushed against the door, the man covering the back of head with his hand, his back hitting the wood with a soft thud, and then the guy’s lips were on his before pulling away, “you talk too much.” y/n groaned, alcohol still buzzing through his system. he stared back at the stranger, before asking, “whats your name?”

the man paused for a second before tilting his head to the side, as if thinking what to say, he leaned in- just a little closer to touch his forehead with y/n’s,

“does it matter?” he murmured. y/n shouldve said yes, but instead, he pulled the stranger in for a kiss. before he could pull away, the guy already had his hands underneath y/n’s shirt, the sudden warmth against his cold skin sent an immediate jolt through him.

the man's lips left his for a brief second, the man's mouth moved to y/n’s neck, lips hot against his skin, sucking and biting just enough to leave a mark.

“m-mister..”

upon hearing this, the other raised an eyebrow, eyes flashing with amusement. “mister?” he repeated,

y/n only shrugged, before tugging at the man’s shirt once again, as if wanting it off. “mm.”

the man’s hands slid lower, teasing the waistband of his pants, then pulling him closer again, grinding against him in a way that made y/n gasp.

y/n’s hands, impatient and shaky, pushed at the other’s shirt again. “off,” he mumbled, tugging at it.

“eager much?” the man dropped onto his knees, taking off his own shirt before throwing it somewhere in the room.

y/n's breath hitched when the man dropped to his knee, staring politely at the other’s body.

hands firm on his thighs, pressing them apart just enough to show the man his hardening weewee, his fingers tugged at y/n’s waistband once again, tugging it off along with his boxer.

y/n face flushed, his member standing proudly, feeling shy, he meekly hid his crotch from the other man.

“perv.”

the man laugh, before forcefully pulling apart y/n’s thigh. he lightly caresses y/n’s inner thigh, while his other hand strokes the younger’s member,

y/n let out a whine when the man swallowed his length in one go, he immediately covered his mouth with both his palm, stifling any whines that would come out.

gently, he started bobbing his head up and down while grabbing a small bottle of lube from his pocket pants.

y/n noticed the lube, it was almost sweet, like he was handling something fragile. he let out a breathless laugh, “hah, you were really prepared for this?” he murmured, eyes half lidded as the man continued on sucking him and pours the lube into his hand. “i guess you really are a perv.”

the man sighed around y/n’s length, he brought up his hand towards the younger’s entrance, teasingly circling two of his fingers around it.

y/n shivered at the cold feeling against his rim, he was starting to get impatient, “just—” his words suddenly cut off into a whine as the tip of the man’s fingers slid in.

the older of the two hummed, sending vibrations to y/n’s member. he let out another whine when the man curled his fingers, pressing against a spot that had y/n arching his back,

y/n lightly hits the man’s shoulder when he pulled off his member, giving it a small kiss on the leaking tip,

with his head thrown towards the door, y/n covered his mouth with his palm once again, hoping nobody can hear them outside the door. flush spread around his chest, barely hidden from his low neck hoodie.

“feeling shy now?” the older teased, rising from his knees, he grabbed one of y/n’s thigh and hooked it around his waist, fingers still pressed deep onto that one spot, twisting his finger just to hear y/n sigh.

y/n scoffed, hiding his face in the man’s shoulder before letting out a muffled moan, his hand never stopped massaging y/n’s prostate.

when the man pulled his finger out, the younger one let out a huff as if in annoyance, before he could let out another snarky remark, he felt something stiff and warm under him.

glancing down, he noticed the man’s breath growing heavier and heavier, he moved his hips, the tip of his.. weapon? prodding against y/n’s hole.

he paused at the sight ‘thats going in me?’ was the only thing he could think at the moment, the man noticed y/n’s stare, nuzzling into the younger’s shoulder, “im getting impatient.” he murmured, his voice low and raspy as he gripped onto y/n’s waist.

“really?” y/n laughed, wrapping his arm around the man’s neck so he doesnt fall. the man’s breath hitched, a small grin tugging at the corner of his lips,

“yeah,”

the man lines himself up against y/n’s, him kindly enough had poured a generous amount onto his length, before slowly pushing himself in.

y/n yelped, while he did have experience, its been a while he had taken anything like the man’s size.

he took his time, moving slowly, one of his hand gripping y/n’s leg, one gentle hand strokes y/n’s back, circling around his back, his movement slow, as if he werent going anywhere.

pressing a soft skin to y/n’s neck, he slowly pushes his length inside inch by inch, taking note of how y/n whine or gasps.

the man grunted when he finally fit his entire length in that tight warmth, he noticed how quiet y/n have been (besides letting out a few whines here and there), concerned, he placed y/n on the nearby table.

he pulled back just enough to check on him, “still with me?” he muttered, brushing a hand though y/n’s hair, though, all he got was a, “mhmm..”

y/n’s face was still buried in his neck, his lips parted slightly as he lets out small, breathless whine, his arms still hung around the man’s shoulder,

the man let out a low curse, yet he gently cupped y/n’s jaw to take a look at his face-, y/n’s eyes were half-lidded, unfocused and dazed (?)

he was about to pull out, thinking maybe the alcohol had made y/n tired, he can just jerk himself off later.. but before he could, he felt something wrapped around his waist, as if not wanting him to go,

“mister..” y/n, still clearly out of it, voice was barely above a whisper surprising the older, “whyd you stop?”

the mans heart skipped a beat, something about y/n’s expression, how his face flushed and how y/n wrapped his legs around the man so he wouldnt go.

he let out a small smile, clearly caught off guard yet amused, the younger one could be so cute when hes isnt letting out sarcastic remarks— but even if he does, the man wouldve still found it cute anyway. “i told you,” he chuckled softly, “im not going anywhere.”

the man chuckled again, he cupped y/n’s face gently, tilting his head to meet his gaze, “i-”

“stop talking and keep moving.” y/n muttered, giving the man a lazy smile.

oh..

slightly amused, the man let out a laugh, his fingers brushing against y/n’s cheek almost tenderly. “alright.”

y/n didnt want to wait, he clenched onto the man’s length, making the older groan.

the man shook his head, “impatient,” he said, his voice soft making something tingle inside y/n’s stomach.

y/n whined when he felt the man pulling away, he was ready to snap something snarky, but his words got cut off into a moan when the other suddenly thrusted into him,

y/n let out a soft, startled gasp as the man’s hands found their way back to his waist, pulling him flush against him, the tip of his member directly pressed against the bundle of nerves inside of him.

the man occasionally lets a low grunt, his hands moving to hike up y/n’s hoodie just enough to see his abdomen and chest, he leans down, his lips ghosting over his skin before nipping at one of y/n’s perked up nipples.

the younger inhaled sharply, the soft whimper that escaped his throat betraying him. his face flushed, trying to bite his lips to hold back another whimper when the man continued his pace.

y/n couldnt help but arch his back whenever the man pulled out so slightly, then bottomed inside him in one go— or the way his hips instinctively move by itself whenever the man pulls away.

y/n’s eyes snapped open just in time to catch the soft smile tugging at the man’s lips. before y/n could protest, he was pulled into a kiss—soft, but deep, silencing the whimpers and desperate gasps that were about to spill from his lips.

he couldnt help but melt into the kiss,, muffling any moans that would leak out whenever the man’s length grazes his prostate.

he relaxes under the man’s touch, hands moving from the older’s shoulder to his back, scratching slightly at his skin.

each movement from the older man was slow, yet y/n felt like he could feel his length in him so deep. pushing y/n closer to edge, he pulled himself away from the man to catch his own breathe,

“fuck-” y/n gasped, his insides tightened, making the man above him grunt. his back arched again, clinging onto the man on top of him, hands desperately gripping the man’s shoulder.

“im gonna..” he squeezes his eyes shut. “M-mister!”

his body tensed up, his eyes slightly rolling back to his skull. thick, white ropes fell onto his own abdomen, some even getting to the man’s body.

the man slowed down for a second, his lips curling into a small smile, he watch y/n’s face contort into pleasure before leaning down to kiss him again.

“you did so well.” he murmured.

y/n, still dazed, only hummed in response.

the man wished he had the stamina to keep going, the sight of y/n in his arms and the noises he makes whenever he moves are just so addicting.

his movements grows erratic, he felt himself throbbing inside of y/n, his grip tightening around y/n, enough to leave a bruise.

his hips stuttered, a deep groan escaping his throat as he buried his face into the younger’s neck. just before he was about to climax, he pulled out and jerked himself off. spilling his come all over y/n’s stomach.

and for once, y/n forgets everything around him, the break up, the bad day he was having,, and the fact he doesnt even knows the name of the man he just spent the night with.

but it doesnt matter, right?

while he felt himself drifting into sleep, he was carefully carried to the bathroom, he felt his hoodie being taken off and before he knew it, the man had gently put him in a bathtub filled with warm water. by the time the man had finished bathing him, he was already half asleep. he was tucked in into the bed, the man climbed into the cover with him, “are you really not gonna tell me your name..?” y/n murmured, too tired to care anymore, but still slightly curious. the man simply laughed, his voice sending butterflies to y/n’s stomach, his hand gently brushing through y/n’s hair. “maybe later.” y/n hummed one last time, before drifting into a well needed sleep. the next morning, y/n woke up with a headache that felt like a hammer to his skull, his body ache from the waist down- though not in a bad way, enough to remember what had happened last night.

he looked around the room, noticing theres nobody else but him. next to the bed was the nightstand, his half lidded eyes landed on whats on top.

a bottle of hangover medicine and an energy drink.

huh, how nice.

so the guy, whoever he was, hadnt left him butt naked and was nice enough to actually give him a bath and dress him up.

y/n exhaled, running a hand through his hair and dragged himself out of the bed,

theres no sign of the man last night, no note, no nothing.

maybe that was the best decision, at least y/n doesnt have to see him again.

with a huff, y/n took the hangover medicine and drinks it in one go, then grabbed his bag (making sure he still have his personal items..) and left.

the motel was coincidentally near his dorm apartment, letting y/n have just enough time to change his clothes from last night, making sure to bring a coat before heading out. (hed rather be caught dead than wearing the same clothes from yesterday ;; )

eventually, with enough convincing from himself, he hauled himself to his university. his friends were already waiting for him, one of them raising an eyebrow at him and his appearance, “you look like hell.” “thanks,” y/n muttered, having no energy to even fight back, sipping his coffee as him and his friends trudged to class. on the way to class, his friends were talking about a rumor, something he have no interest in unless its about him, “have you heard about the new TA?” one of his friend asked, poking y/n from the side for a reaction, y/n only grunted in response, barely paying attention to their conversation (& nearly walking into a pole if his friends didnt tug him aside with his bag.) “they say hes young,” another chimed in, “and apparently hes hot.” y/n only hummed, almost falling into a bush if it werent for his friends pulled him by the collar of his coat. “so?” someone scoffed, do y/n even know him..? maybe hes a friend of another friend. “he probably has those “im better than you.” mindset being so young.” ..whatever he said immediately went into y/n’s left ear and left from the right ear. when they finally reached their class, they sat in their usual place in the middle, all of them still talking except for y/n— whose mind kept drifting to last night, the warm hand, soft kisses, the aftercare.. “dude you’re zoning out again.” his friend lightly waved his hands in front of y/n, finally snapping him out of it. “ugh,” y/n groaned, “and whose idea was it to go to that bar yesterday-” before he could say anything else, the door clicked open, the room immediately went silent as footsteps echoed against the floor, some of the students instantly murmured about the person who had just entered the room, some complimenting their look, some talking about some rumors. y/n looked up from the table, eyes widened at who was standing in front of the lecture hall. the same man from last night? dressed in a crisp shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, looking the same as he had when y/n last saw him. he nearly ran out of the hall, but he needed that attendance. “good morning, everybody.” he greeted smoothly, the same deep voice that y/n heard last night. “ill be your TA for this semester.” you gotta be kidding me he screamed internally, panic shot through his veins, y/n yanked his hood up, tugging it so low it nearly covered his eyes, his friends, thinking hes having another episode, just shrugged it off and continued talking. he slumped forwards, elbows against the desk,, trying to hide himself. please don’t recognize me. please don’t recognize me. he glanced up again, trying to take a peek at the man in front to make sure hes not going coo coo crazy— but to his dismay, the same man from last night- now his TA was staring directly at him, smiling as if they were best friends. y/n froze, his brain short circuited, AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA as if on cue, the man introduced himself to the class once again. “you can call me Seo Seungjae.”

y/n nearly choked.

a/n hooo leee sheet i finished this. hooe lle sheet. smut took me,, 4 hours. aha. stared at my google docs like a madman whenever i typed something since id get distracted to something else TT ( ´ ω ` ) hopefully you guys enjoyed this ;; based on a real story of mine? harhar (excluding the TA part,) but i actually loved writing this,, i liked y/n and oc's dynamic here,! if anyone else liked this character,, ill probably write a second part ; i recently updated my carrd! feel free to check it out at the description,, my inbox r open as well ^^ goodnight everyone!! mwa

#mayi'swriting—#mayi'scharacter—#male reader #bottom male reader #bttm male reader #sub male reader #x male reader #oc x male reader #male x male #male x reader #dom character #male reader insert

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inkedinshadows · 1 day ago

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the world(and me. mainly me tbh) is in dire need of prompt 22 with eris. also ily and your writing!

Steamy Intentions

Pairing: Eris x f!reader

A/N: thank you my sweet!! ily too 🩷 this one's a bit shorter than the others, but i hope you enjoy anyway!

Prompt: "You're such a tease today."

Warnings: fluff, teasing, suggestiveness

Word count: 588

Eris groaned softly when you pressed your thumbs into the tense knot at the base of his neck.

He was soaking in the bath you had drawn for him earlier, his eyes closed as you massaged his shoulders. It had been a long week, and you could feel it in the lingering tension coiled within his body.

“Your hands work wonders, my love,” he said quietly.

You smiled, continuing your massage for a few more moments before you let your hands slide down to his chest. Leaning forward from where you sat on the edge of the tub, you pressed a trail of tiny kisses from his neck to his ear.

“They can do even more wonders, you know,” you murmured, caressing his chest until your fingertips brushed the warm water.

Eris's eyes remained closed, but you didn't miss the way the corner of his lips curled in a grin. “Oh, I know they can, darling.”

Your mouth trailed down the side of his throat as your hands dipped beneath the water. “Want me to show you?”

His chuckle was low and soft, like a caress. “You’re such a tease today,” he mused. “First with that little dress, now this… What's the occasion?”

You smiled against his skin. “I knew you liked that dress.”

He could deny it all he wanted, but you knew better. You had caught him stealing glances at you every time he thought no one else would notice. But you did. You always did.

“Well, I couldn't let everyone know how much you affect me, could I?” he retorted.

You hummed before leaving one last kiss in his hair and standing up. At the rustle of fabric, Eris cracked open an eye just in time to watch that very dress slip from your shoulders and pool at your feet.

He sat up a little straighter in the tub, arms draped over the edges as you stepped into the water and settled between his legs. Warmth and bubbles immediately surrounded you, but your focus remained on your mate.

“The occasion,” you said slowly, reaching out to brush his jaw with wet fingers, “is that you've been working hard lately. I wanted to help you take your mind off things.”

His already relaxed expression softened further, and he kissed the tip of your thumb when you brushed it over his lips. He wrapped his arms around your waist, drawing you as close as he could in the snug space of the tub.

“Then I must congratulate you, my dear,” he murmured. “Because you've succeeded. I'm as relaxed as I could ever be.”

He pulled you in for a kiss, his lips soft against yours. You indulged him for just a moment, and when you pulled back, he followed, chasing your lips for another kiss. You only smirked.

“Are you, though?” you teased, hands already disappearing beneath the surface. Now that he had drawn you closer, you could feel his erection rest hard and heavy against your thigh. “Because it seems to me like someone might still need those wonders, after all.”

“Don't you act all innocent, as if it isn't entirely your fault.” Eris smirked right back at you. “You've been teasing me all day. And you looked ravishing in that dress.”

You chuckled, leaning in to kiss him again as your fingers wrapped around his hard length. He shivered and throbbed in your gentle grasp.

“Well, then,” you whispered against his lips. “Since it's my fault, I suppose I should make it up to you.”

Taglist: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @anarchiii @readinggeeklmao @anneas11 @azrielslittleslut @lilah-asteria @aaahhh127 @lorosette @azrielsrealmate @pey2618 @mellowmusings @k8r123-blog @daughterofthemoons-stuff @minnieoo @saltedcoffeescotch @georgiadixon @quiet-because-it-is-a-secret

1k taglist: @onebadassunicorn @thegoddessofnothingness

#eris vanserra #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra x you #eris vanserra x y/n #eris acotar #eris vanserra fic #eris vanserra fluff #eris vanserra smut #acotar #acotar x reader #acotar fanfic #a court of thorns and roses #sjm #sarah j maas #fluff #smut #fanfiction #drabble

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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 24 hours ago

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Words: 4,331 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader Era: S9, after Rick's "death" when Daryl is living in the woods (No Leah) Reader pronouns: she/her Warnings: language, sexual content (this one contains some spice babies!)

Daryl was just coming back from his morning snare check when he heard Dog barking excitedly down by the water. "Dog! The hell ya doin'?" he growled, stomping toward the noise. "Yer gonna bring the dead in! Quiet! No bark!" He rounded the shelter and strode toward the dock but quickly froze.

He was stunned to see you wading out into the water tentatively, your bare back exposed to him and steam rising off you in the cold morning air. His eyes traveled down the graceful curve of your spine to the dimples in your low back. He gulped thickly. The surface of the water lapped at your hips. Dog danced back and forth on his front paws on the shore.

"Y/N!" Daryl yelled. You looked back at him over your shoulder, your arms crossed tightly over your chest as armor against the cold of the morning air. You kept walking deeper into the river. "What the hell are ya doin'?!" He stormed forward, wetting his boots in the water. "Have ya lost yer damn mind?!" He was bewildered.

"I'm getting clean!" you yelled back, shivering slightly as your toes sunk into the cold mud on the bottom.

Daryl swore under his breath. He could see the goosebumps all over your skin. "It's freezin'! Yer gonna catch yer death out there!" he roared.

You were finally in up to your collarbone, treading water, and you turned to look at him standing on the bank. "It's not that bad!" you yelled back. "It's—it's invigorating!"

"Yer shiverin’! Get back here!" He swore under his breath again and rushed to his makeshift shelter to pull all the blankets off his cot before hurrying back to the water's edge again. "Y/N—C'mon! I ain't jokin'! I'll—I'll close my eyes. C'mon out and wrap these around ya."

You were simply treading water, trying to pull in deep breaths. "I'll c-come out once you come in!" you announced.

"What?" he spat, looking at you like you truly had gone completely mad.

"You're not taking care of yourself out here, Daryl! When is the last time you washed up?"

He dropped the blanket he had stretched out in front of himself to hang toward the ground. He chewed on his bottom lip and stared at you.

You smiled broadly at the expression on his face. He looked about ready to throttle you. You took a few lazy strokes backwards, into deeper water. "Alright. I'll j-just stay out here until you c come get me then!"

Your nose and cheeks were kissed red with cold and Daryl heaved a frustrated breath. "Have ya lost yer damn mind?!" he roared. "I ain't playin'! Get back here! Yer gonna get hypothermia!"

"Only if you l leave me out here t-too l-long," you said, shaking with the cold. It was starting to work its way in deep. You could feel your muscles growing tense as they tried to retain heat in your core.

Daryl flicked his hand in your direction. "Is this why ya came out here?! To give me all this damn grief?!" he growled.

"I can't f-feel my toes anymore, Daryl! Are my l-lips turning blue yet?" You smiled as you saw the frustration and worry on his face growing. You did feel a little bad, but you’d already told him what the solution was... and it was an easy one.

He swore under his breath and paced back and forth on the bank before tossing the pile of blankets he’d dragged off his cot down on the dock. He shot a deadly glare in your direction and you knew you'd won.

You submerged for a moment and came up blinking the water away from your eyes. You grinned at him and then spun in the water so you were facing the other bank. “I won’t look!” you announced. “Tell m-me when I can t-turn around!” Your shivering was getting worse.

Daryl was muttering to himself under his breath as he pulled layer after layer of his clothing off and piled them on the bank. “Ya best swim to the other side ‘cuz if I catch ya, ‘m gonna—”

Your laughter interrupted him. “You’re gonna w-what, Daryl?”

Dog seemed to think this was all a game as well and dashed back and forth in the shallow water, panting and smiling his Malinois smile.

Daryl’s hands landed on the hem of his final top layer, a waffle-knit thermal shirt, and he hesitated. He looked out at you bobbing in the water, your hair wet and clinging to the nape of your neck. He swore one more time and swept his shirt off. The cold morning air bit at his bare skin.

Then he was a blur of movement, trying to shed the last of his bottom layers before he lost his nerve. He felt sheepish as he discarded his pants and underthings, tugging his socks and boots off in one motion and kicking them aside. The mud was freezing on his bare feet and he swore again before hurrying to get into the cover of the water, not that it was going to be warmer at all.

You heard the splash of Daryl entering and bit your bottom lip. You tried to stop yourself from shivering so violently, but the fingers of cold were working their way in deeply. The next thing you heard was a murmur of expletives as Daryl immersed himself in the water and then what sounded like him walking and swimming toward you. Daryl was hurriedly scrubbing at the dirt on his skin while your back was turned. Taking his clothes off had revealed the striking demarcations around his sleeves and neckline and more where the dirt had clung to his skin instead of his clothing. Living out of a patched together shelter in the woods was hard and you were of course correct—he wasn’t taking care of himself. He had buried all his feelings in combing the banks for Rick and hiding from things past and he certainly wasn’t thinking about more than the basic necessities of survival. Bare minimum, that’s how he was living.

“C—can I turn around?” you asked, breaking him out of his musing.

There was a little more splashing and then his voice came from quite close right behind you. “Yeah,” he growled.

You turned and saw that he was only a couple feet away. His bright blue eyes were narrowed at you in a glare that could have curdled milk. You found yourself nervously chewing on your bottom lip and blushing as you realized how closed the two of you were, and how entirely naked you both were too. Though, the tea-colored water was a sufficient cloak to hide your bodies. Your eyes flickered down to the scars visible near his collarbones and on his shoulders and you felt a deep tug behind your navel, a pang of empathy and pain. “S-see? It’s not so b-bad,” you said, meeting his bright blue eyes again.

“Yer teeth are chatterin’,” he said. “I came in. Will ya get out now before ya freeze to death? This is the most ridiculous shit ya’ve ever pulled.” Your eyes flickered over his face and Daryl felt something shift in the air between the two of you and he thought he could read it on your face. He gulped nervously. “What?” he asked.

“Nothing,” you breathed. But you swam a little closer to him. Then closer, within a foot. He could feel the currents whirling away from your legs and arms keeping you afloat, buffeting his bare skin below the surface. Water droplets were clinging all over your shoulders, running over your goosebumps and then rejoining the river winding around you. He was keenly aware that if he looked down, he’d be able to see much more of the shape of you than ever before, but it felt like an imposition despite the fact that you’d undressed yourself and created this whole ridiculous scenario. He kept his eyes fixed on your face instead, but that didn’t stop the thought of it, the very idea of you so bare so close to him from setting his heart racing and tugging up some bubble of feeling between his lungs that wouldn’t be ignored or shoved back down.

You reached up suddenly and your fingertips brushed gently into his hair and trailed down to the wet ends. From there, your fingertips dropped down and alighted on his bare chest for just a moment. Daryl felt as if an electric current suddenly zipped through his entire body and he found himself gulping thickly again.

“W-wash up, Daryl,” you whispered, another shiver wracking through you. “You d-deserve to be c-clean and cared for.” You gave him a tight smile that was touched with a mark of sadness and then paddled backwards away from him for a few strokes before you turned completely and swam toward shore. Your feet touched the soggy bottom and you were soon rising up out of the water, hugging your arms around yourself and shaking with the cold.

Daryl allowed himself to drink in the shape of your bare back, trace your shoulder blades, to watch you until the water dipped in against your waist, and then he turned away again. He cupped the water in his hands and splashed it over his face. He scrubbed over his body with his rough palms, wiping away the layers of sweat and dust and dirt and ash. His fingertips snagged in snarls and frazzled locks in his hair. He dunked himself below the surface and held his breath, let the cold pressure press against his ear drums, dampen his senses for a long moment as he ran his fingers over his hair. He surfaced again and shook the excess water from himself.

The cold was quickly working its hooks into him and he swore under his breath again, marveling at the sheer absurdity of this whole sequence of events and furthermore at the fact that it had worked. You’d gotten him into the damn frigid river. Of course you did. If you threw yourself into a fire, he’d follow after you.

He chanced a glance over his shoulder at the bank. Dog was sitting there dutifully, but you were nowhere in sight. He took that as his cue that it was safe to come ashore again. He hated to admit that though he was now shaking with the cold as he planted his feet back on the makeshift dock, he did feel clean, new, and somewhat restored. He hastily grabbed one of the heavy blankets still left behind beside your now drying footprints and wrapped it around himself.

Dog trotted up and down the dock happily as Daryl made his way toward his shelter. He cleared his throat loudly. “Hey, Y/N?”

“In here. C-come in, Daryl,” your voice answered.

Daryl stepped around the tarp and saw that you were standing in the middle of the space, still clutching a heavy, gray blanket around yourself, and positively shaking from head to toe with the cold. Your clothes were piled on the floor by your feet where you must have discarded them before your foray into the river. He sighed heavily and shook his head, moving past you to dig into a leather duffel bag that had piles of clean clothes in it that he never wore. “The hell’s wrong with ya? Look at ya. Yer whole body is shakin’,” he said in a low voice. He had planned to grab some clothes and go change into them outside the shelter to give you some privacy, but your voice soon stopped him dead. “Yer freezin’ to death over there...” he growled.

“S-so warm me up,” you said in a low voice.

Daryl gulped thickly. He heard your soft footsteps moving toward him and again was sharply aware of his nakedness beneath the blanket he was holding about himself. And of yours. “Lemme just grab some clothes and I’ll get dressed and get the fire built up.”

“That’s not w-what I mean.” Your voice was soft behind him.

Daryl turned, his heart jumping into his throat. “...what?”

You padded toward him across the dried pine needles he’d spread as a makeshift floor. You were still clutching the wool blanket around yourself. Water kept dripping down from the ends of your hair and running down the fabric like dew drops rolling off a blade of grass. “W-why d-did you st-stay outside last night?” you asked him in a low voice, unable to keep the shivering out of your voice despite trying hard to. Your eyes were questioning.

Daryl couldn’t tear his eyes from you. Something was happening. He could feel it like a tingle in his fingertips and the top of his head. And that bubble in between his lungs seemed to be growing, upwelling like the coldest, deepest layer of water in the river when his feet has disturbed it. You held his eyes steadily as he tried to come up with an answer to your question. “...I was keepin’ watch. And—I wanted ya to have the cot.”

Your lips tugged down into a pout that had his chest aching. God, and that furrow you got between your brows as you were puzzling over him. He couldn’t stand that pout on your face. It made him feel instantly guilty but he didn’t know why and as he would reverse the spin of the earth if that was the only thing that would fix it. It didn’t matter; he’d figure out how to do it if that was the cure. You took a couple more steps toward him, stopping within a foot of him now. The blanket slipped off your right shoulder and his eyes were drawn to that expanse of bare skin like a moth to a flame. He gulped again and tore his eyes away and back up to yours. Your voice broke through his jumbled, racing thoughts. “Daryl—I w-wanted you. Couldn’t you tell?”

He was paralyzed, dumbfounded. He felt like an idiot staring back at you, wondering how long he’d been talking himself out of what was apparently right in his face.

Your eyes flickered between his as you tried to read what was going on in his mind. “Why do you think I came out here? I was p-practically b-begging you to kiss me last night, by the fire. But you didn’t. And then I couldn’t s-sleep on your damn cot all night, alone. And you were just sitting out there...” You were searching his face for an explanation.

His lips parted as if to say something, but no sound came out. You were standing there just in front of him, shivering, telling him that he hadn’t imagined the charge in the air the night before, the heavy tension, the thickness between you like an approaching storm. He hadn’t imagined the way you’d been looking at him with that dewy softness in your eyes. He hadn’t been imagining your hesitation to disappear into his shelter completely. Anything he could come up with in response to that, to this, sounded stupid. Finally, he closed his mouth again and sighed, shutting his eyes briefly, drawing in a slow breath. “Just tell me—what ya want from me. Tell me, righ’ now, what ya want and I’ll give it to ya.”

Your eyes searched his face before you answered. “I already told you. I want you.” Daryl watched with bated breath as you backed up toward his cot and sat down on the edge. Though you kept the wool blanket clutched to your chest, it slipped completely from your other shoulder now and pooled on the cot behind you. “Do you want me in the s-same way? If you don’t, tell me now before I further em-embarrass myself.” Another shiver wracked through you. “I mean, I’m s-sitting on your bed basically naked right now, Daryl.”

Daryl pulled in a bracing breath and walked to you, sinking down beside you on the cot, his own blanket falling down around his hips. His bare chest and stomach were scattered with scars and goosebumps rose at the cold kiss of the air. His body was angled toward you and after hesitating only one nervous moment, he reached to cup your face tenderly in his hands, so gently it was as if he was worried you would crumble into ash under his fingertips. “Course I want ya. I’ve—I’ve always wanted ya.”

One of your palms landed flush in the center of his chest, and that was the last thing he needed before he crashed his lips against yours. Your hand drifted down to his side and rested there, exhilarating and grounding and electric. His palm came to rest on the side of your neck, his fingertips tickling around to the nape, and he kissed you with an urgency that suggested he expected you to dissolve into the air and vanish at any moment. He’d been hiding from so much out there for so long—and you were pulling him back to plant his feet on the earth again, to grab hold of something true and concrete and real right in front of him. He wasn’t a shapeless shade condemned to comb the banks of the river alone until he found what he’d lost... He was making a conscious choice in being there and he’d made a conscious choice to leave other things behind... You. He’d left you behind.

He kissed you more desperately, more hungrily.

A small hum of pleasure escaped you and Daryl deepened the kiss, his hands sliding down from your face over the curve of your neck and onto your bare shoulders. Your skin was chilled and damp still from the river. Droplets rained down from your hair. They did the same from his. They ran over the landscape of his scars and met your fingertips where they were pressed to him. They navigated his landscape and crossed onto yours in this way, where the two of you met and melded.

You pulled back from him slightly, just the tiniest bit, out of breath. “Daryl,” you breathed.

His heart was racing as his hands settled on your waist. He gripped to the folds of the wool blanket hard. Had you changed your mind? “Are ya okay?” he asked, his blue eyes opening and searching your face.

But a smile grew on your lips. “Y-yeah. Just cold.”

He nodded. “Yeah. Some mad woman went out into the damn river. I had to go after her.”

“She does sound mad,” you breathed.

“Little bit,” Daryl agreed. He straightened up slightly and looked at how you were shivering. “Ya should get some clothes on. Yer gonna get sick,” he said, turning away to stand, but your hand landed on his arm and arrested all movement.

“Wait—”

He glanced over at you again and settled more deeply into the cot again. Your simply touch had done that.

You were biting your bottom lip, your top teeth dented into the fullness of it. “I—I meant what I said. I want you to warm me up. If—if you’re okay with—”

Daryl’s brow furrowed. He was unwilling to make any kind of leap here as far as your meaning. You’d need to make it clear, exactly what you wanted from him, with him. He hadn’t even dared to hope for anything like this with you, and most of him was still doubting that this was anything other than some crazy whim of yours... though he’d never known you to be flighty or capricious in this way. But his whole life he’d been taught that he was worth nothing, undesirable, unlovable... and that gets into a person’s soul deep, like a splinter that works inward instead of out, year after year. But you had been always determined to show him his worth, to care for him even when he didn’t care for himself, to make him feel safe and home. He just didn’t dare to hope for more...

But now you made it clear to him by letting the blanket fall from your hands, baring more of than he’d ever seen, and reaching for him again. You pressed your soft lips to his and kissed him gently this time, but with the same intensity of feeling and desire. One of your hands landed on the side of his neck and the other alighted on his side. Daryl kissed you back with a growing heat, his hands drawn to your newly revealed skin like a magnet. He moved over you and you laid out beneath him on his cot, your fingers traveling over the tensed muscles in his back and pushing his damp hair away from his face. Your fingernails raked gently across his skin and heat flared in Daryl’s chest. He tugged the blanket that was still swirled around his hips and used it to cover the two of you. You felt a flush burning in your face and chest as you looked at the broadness of him leaning over you and the strength of his chest and stomach. Daryl’s eyes and hands wandered over your edges like he was trying to memorize every crest and curve by touch and new waves of goosebumps rose on your skin as the roughness of his palms grazed the insides of your bare thighs and the roundness of your hips and buttocks.

His lips crashed down onto yours again and the heat of his skin met yours. He bit gently at the plumpness of your bottom lip and heat flared in your core. His fingertips dimpled into your hip and the curve of your ribs. You let out a breathy sound as his mouth departed yours and kissed down your neck to your collarbone. “Daryl—”

The way you had just said his name was enough to drive him insane. It was at that moment that he was totally lost—whatever nagging doubts that had been still rattling around in his head were silenced and you were both completely immersed in each other. He pulled more sinful noises from you with his fingers and his mouth until your back was arching and your toes were curling and you were begging him in the prettiest voice for more, your fingernails raking down his back or tangling into his hair. Neither of you could bear to wait a moment longer by the time he finally pushed into you, drawing a gasp and breathy sigh from your lips, his teeth biting down lightly on your shoulder at the overwhelming sensations rippling through him. He tucked his face into the crook of your neck and breathed you in as you began to move together as one. Your hand stayed splayed on his lower back, pressing into him as if you were afraid he would suddenly put space between you again, but there was no risk of that.

Daryl’s breath was hot against your neck, but when both of you were nearing the peak of your bliss, his lips captured you in a desperate kiss before he withdrew and pressed his forehead to yours as the two of you crashed over your highs together. Your ragged breathing was the only sound to be heard in the early morning air. You pushed the sweaty strands of Daryl’s wavy brown hair out of his face and met his blue eyes. He seemed to be searching yours, trying to read what you were thinking.

You leaned up and kissed him again, but this one was soft and full of the yearning of all the long years you had wanted him but been too afraid of ruining the bond you already had. He settled down beside you and drew you in to press you against his heated skin, adjusting the wool blankets and skins over the two of you to keep out the cold morning.

You felt his eyes on your face even as you were still trying to catch your breath and you turned to look over at him. “Hmm?” you hummed in a question.

“I just—I can’t—I can’t believe yer here. I can’t believe ya came out here and now we’re—we—” he broke off, his eyes flickering over your face as if he expected you to disappear as soon as he stopped looking at you.

“I guess I got tired of waiting,” you breathed. “And I was afraid you were going to disappear out here completely.” Your expression was sad as you traced a finger lightly along his jawline.

“I think—I wanted to.”

You rolled onto your side to face him. “Do you still want to?”

He shook his head. “Nah. I want this,” he said, ducking his eyes, still feeling nervous about what had happened and was happening.

“Good,” you said. “Me too.”

There was a long silence as you tucked yourself in against him. Beneath the blankets, his arm draped over you and he pressed his palm to your soft skin.

“I still can’t believe ya went into the damn river like that,” he drawled suddenly.

You laughed lightly. “But look where it led us.”

“Yeah... but I think we coulda still got here without the near-hypothermia. Mad woman,” he said. You gave him a smile brimming with light. Daryl pressed a kiss to your forehead and then another soft one to your lips. The two of you were content to fall back asleep together and not wake until the sun was warmer and the day was half spent.

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon twd #the walking dead #twd fanfics #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl imagines #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x y/n #fanfics #writers of tumblr #twd drabbles

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aajjks · 2 days ago

Text

The Conqueror (XXV)

synopsis. He had conquered everything, anything but your heart.

pairings: yandere king!jungkook x fem!reader.

warnings: yándèrè, 18+ thèmès, hè is só hôrny fôr yn, néw cháráctèrs, dàrk thèmès, sèxüàl àttràctïón, pósèssïvènèss, dílèmmà.

note. Please share your thoughts on this and I really miss tc koo asks so please send asks for him and really share your thoughts with me always I know it’s weird to repeat myself, but I just have to make sure. Hopefully, I will update this soon and until then enjoy this. 👀💞

series masterlist

•••

It’s the day of the King of China and princess’s arrival and you are not looking forward to it.

It’s been almost a week since you’ve been married to that monster and— you don’t feel bad for rejecting him because you never wanted him in the first place, something has been bothering you for the past three days— his behavior.

His behavior with you for the past few days…

You would be lying if you said that it doesn’t bother you.

You used to think that it would be nice to not have his intense attention on you, you never wanted to be the focus of his attention, but now that you have been, it feels weird to not have him talk to you or acknowledge your existence.

He is a petty man.

The palace has been bustling, everyone has been so focused on the welcome of the king of China with his daughter, it’s like nobody cares about you.

Why would they care about you?

You are just lady yn. The wife of the king that never deserved to have that title in many of the people’s eyes.

As you sit in your chambers, a servant comes into inform you that the carriage has arrived.

“My Lady, the king is expecting your presence at the hall. The carriage of the king of China has been spotted and it’s expected to arrive within a few minutes, so I have been ordered to escort you there so you can be present for the welcome.”

You look at her, and sigh.

“Okay. Thank you for informing me.” without thinking you get up and follow this woman out.

You don’t really have a choice in this matter.

In your life, you have never had a choice.

You are just a puppet that belongs to jungkook, the great emperor of Goryeo, the conqueror, the person who has also conquered you.

And now you are his prize to show off.

•••

Jungkook stands tall, waiting for the arrival of the Chinese royalty, his posture is stiff and formal, as expected.

His mind, however, isn’t entirely focused on the event at hand. It’s on you.

Always on you.

He feels the tension building up inside him. Six days of marriage and not a single moment of closeness, not even a kiss.

It eats away at him, the hunger gnawing at his insides. His fingers twitch at his sides, aching to touch you, but you haven’t let him.

Not yet.

And that drives him crazy.

The sound of the door opening almost distracts him from his spiraling thoughts. The moment he sees you, it feels like the room itself shifts.

There you are.

You walk in with that same grace, you have something about you that still has the power to steal his breath away, even after all these days.

He can’t take his eyes off you as you make your way toward him, the fabric of your gown fits perfectly, with each step, the colors rich and deep.

You’re still a lady, not a queen—yet… but Jungkook doesn’t need titles to see that you’re everything he ever wanted.

His eyes trace your every movement, a hunger starts building within him, like a flame that keeps growing, consuming everything else.

The way your hair sways with each step, the way your eyes are avoiding his nervously as you walk closer to him— it all drives him mad with desire.

God, you look so perfect.

He can’t help it. His thoughts are raw and urgent as he watches you.

His breath hitches, and he feels the ache in his chest, a deep longing that he can’t ignore.

The way you look at him, even from across the room, makes his pulse race.

There’s that faint hesitation in your gaze, that uncertainty, as if you’re still unsure of him, unsure of this whole thing, this marriage.

But to Jungkook, that only makes the attraction worse.

You’re so damn beautiful, even when you don’t try.

He notices how others in the room glance at you… admire you— but it’s different for him.

He doesn’t see just your beauty.

he feels the need to possess it, to possess you. His heart pounds harder, and he can’t seem to pull his gaze away.

He knows he has to remain composed. The king of China, and the princess are coming, and he’s supposed to be welcoming her. But right now, he only wants you.

You’re his wife.. he reminds himself, even if the title doesn’t feel real yet, not with the coronation still pending.

But you’re his, and that possessiveness gets worse within him, that feeling of ownership over you that makes him want to claim you completely.

The fire in his chest flares as you finally reach him, and he can’t stop himself from stepping forward, closing the distance between you.

The moment your hand brushes his, his pulse quickens.

He swallows hard, trying to steady himself. His voice comes out a little more strained than usual when he speaks.

“You look incredible,” he says, his eyes still locked on you. His mind races with thoughts, but he doesn’t want to admit the dark, almost primal urge coursing through him.

He needs you, he wants you, and every day it only intensifies.

He remembers the wedding night— the way you rejected him, the way you pushed him away.. and it eats at him.

You’ve been so distant, so closed off, and it’s driving him crazy. He wants you, but you’re not letting him have you, and that makes the desire even more desperate.

You’re mine, and yet you’re slipping away.

It’s the only thought that keeps repeating in his mind. He’s fighting the urge to take you right there, to pull you into his arms and claim you the way he’s been dying to since the day he first saw you.

But it’s not just about the lust. Not entirely.

There’s something deeper in him, something more profound than just physical desire.

The way he looks at you—it’s possessive, yes, but it’s also full of admiration. Full of longing.

The way you carry yourself, the way you hold yourself so regal, even as a lady, makes his chest tighten.

Jungkook takes a breath, his gaze softening slightly as he looks at you. But that hunger never quite leaves his eyes.

I’m going to have you, soon.

He can feel the weight of his desire… his obsession, with you building.

He needs you. And that need, that hunger, makes every part of him ache in ways he doesn’t know how to express.

“I certainly hope that you will behave yn. Do not even try to act cold with me in front of the king. I am not in the mood to be humiliated. Okay, baby?”

He looks at you and he feels entitled to your attention. You belong to him whether you like it or not.

You just have to make it so hard for him to hate you.

But before you can reply, there is an interruption.

Jungkook smirks.

The large doors of the grand hall open with a creak, drawing the attention of every person in the room.

The atmosphere shifts instantly, becoming more charged, more expectant.

The air is thick with anticipation as the king of China, regal and imposing in his own right, steps through first. His eyes are sharp, his presence commanding, but there is something about him that makes jungkook feel so satisfied.

He’s an old man.

And then, there is the princess.

She steps in next, Her long black hair, her high cheekbones and her gaze is sharp, taking everything in as she enters.

But it’s him, Jungkook… who catches her focus.

The moment her eyes land on him, her breath catches in her throat. The prince stands just a few feet away, but he might as well be the center of the entire universe.

His posture is perfect, shoulders broad, the sharp lines of his jawline and the defined muscles in his arms and chest accentuated by the royal attire that clings to him in all the right ways.

Her gaze lingers on him as she takes a step forward, utterly captivated. She can feel her heart race, a heat stirring inside her.

She isn’t quite sure what it is, but the way he stands there, the confidence radiating off of him, makes her feel a strange mix of awe and… attraction. She tries to shake the feeling, but it’s there, undeniable.

The king of Goryeo, is gorgeous and he is nothing like how she was expecting him to be.

She has obviously heard about him and she has heard how bloodthirsty he is and quite merciless on the fields of battle.

But she wasn’t expecting to see a man so attractive, standing in front of her eyes, looking so regal.

She had thought that he must be at least in his 50s. But this couple in front of her. He doesn’t look to be that much older than her.

She knows that she’s here to congratulate him on his marriage to you.

It’s obvious because you’re standing by his side.

Even though you are standing by his side, she doesn’t care.

His pure raw masculinity has her mesmerized to even notice you.

Her thoughts blur, and she doesn’t know whether to be mesmerized by his raw masculinity or embarrassed by how obvious her attraction is becoming.

The way his muscles flex beneath his royal garb, the way his hair falls just perfectly over his forehead… it’s like something out of a dream.

She quickly looks away, hoping no one notices the sudden heat creeping into her cheeks, but the effect he has on her is impossible to ignore.

The king, noticing his daughter’s lingering gaze, smirks to himself. He might be pleased by her admiration,there’s a slight sense of amusement in his eyes.

This is perfect.

Meanwhile, Jungkook, whose eyes flicker across the room, finally meets the princess’s gaze.

He notes the way she is practically undressing him with her eyes, the way her breath hitches. He feels the pull of her stare, but he doesn’t return it.

His focus remains on the king.. on the official duties at hand.

The princess might be beautiful, but he doesn’t care. He’s seen this sort of admiration before, and it bores him.

She’s just a little girl.

He watches her out of the corner of his eye as she shifts slightly, adjusting herself. It’s clear she’s trying to compose herself, but her flushed face betrays her.

Jungkook smirks.

He knows that he’s attractive, but she doesn’t have to make it that obvious.

He wishes the way she’s looking at him? You would look at him like that..

But he doesn’t care about her. His mind, his attention, is focused entirely on you.

When the princess finally speaks, her voice is clear and polite, but there’s an edge of uncertainty in it. “Your Highness,” she greets, bowing her head. “It is an honor to meet you.”

Jungkook simply nods, acknowledging her words, but his gaze never leaves you as you step forward.

He turns to the princess and the king with a soft, almost arrogant smile on his lips. “This is my wife,” he announces proudly, and her eyes are finally settle on you.

She’s Judging you.

He gestures to you, his fingers brushing lightly against your arm, feeling that brief contact like a spark. “My Lady,” he says to you, his voice warm yet firm, his eyes holding that possessive gleam that only you understand.

His pride swells, and though the princess might be in front of him, he’s not paying her a second thought.

You are his pride.

“This is my wife, the Lady Yn of Goryeo,” Jungkook says again, making sure his words are heard clearly.

His chest swells as he watches the princess’s expression change ever so slightly, a flicker of confusion crossing her face as she realizes who you are.

Jungkook feels a rush of satisfaction, something almost primal, knowing that the princess now sees the bond between you both. She can admire him all she wants, but you are the one he claims.

The princess’s attention is still divided. partly on Jungkook, partly on you.

She’s intrigued, perhaps even fascinated by the lady standing next to him, by the quiet authority that you carry with you.

But Jungkook, in his quiet pride, doesn’t care about the princess’s shifting gaze.

His eyes are only for you. He watches you carefully, knowing exactly how the princess is reacting to him, but he’s too focused on you to care.

In that moment, it’s clear: he is proud of you. Proud of the wife he has. And the princess doesn’t even matter.

“Come inside. I am really honored to have you and your daughter as my guest. And I will really like it if you guys will honor us even more by staying here for a few days.”

He turns his attention back to the king as he invites him to stay in Goryeo for a few days.

Jungkook has some ulterior motives and in order to make sure that he gets what he wants, he will need to play sweet.

“We would be really honored, as we are here to congratulate you on your marriage and I sincerely apologize that my wife couldn’t accompany me on this journey since she’s really sick. But I have brought my daughter with me. Please meet Meilin..”

Jungkook leads Princess Meilin and her father, the King of China, through the grand hallways of the Goryeo palace.

The air thickens with each step, and the atmosphere is heavy with expectation, but Jungkook remains calm and collected.

His eyes flicker briefly between Meilin, who is still caught in her silent admiration of him, and the king, whose regal presence matches his long years of rule.

But too bad he’s old now and Jungkook isn’t really in the mood to go to war since he’s just gotten married to you.

As they walk, Jungkook feels a sense of satisfaction settle over him. The king may have come to Goryeo expecting nothing more than a courteous meeting, but Jungkook has bigger plans.

His thoughts are consumed by his ultimate goal—conquering China.

He isn’t about to rush things, but this visit is the perfect opportunity to move forward with his agenda.

They arrive in the grand dining hall, the flickering light of the candles casting a warm glow over the space.

Jungkook turns to the king and his daughter with a welcoming smile.

“It would be my honor to have you both stay here for a few days, in the Goryeo palace,” Jungkook repeats himself, his words are measured.

“This is the least I can offer after such a long journey.”

The king, caught off guard at first, meets Jungkook’s gaze and nods slowly, his expression softening. “We would be honored to stay, Your Highness,” he responds, clearly impressed by the Goryeo king’s hospitality.

They don’t even know how to properly address him and it’s pissing him off.

Jungkook shifts his attention to Meilin.

She can’t hide her attraction and it’s almost making him uncomfortable.

She’s still watching him, her gaze full of intrigue, but she quickly averts her eyes, maybe realizing how obvious her admiration has become.

Jungkook notices but doesn’t acknowledge it.

“I hope your stay will be pleasant,” Jungkook says, addressing her now, his voice low and inviting. “And I sincerely hope that your wife, the queen will be healthy soon..”

“We have prepared rooms for both of you. I trust Goryeo will offer a much-needed rest after your travels.”

Meilin nods, offering a polite smile, but her thoughts are clearly elsewhere.

She can’t help but notice how close she is to Jungkook now.

His presence is overwhelming, and she feels the effect it has on her intensifying by the moment.

As the king and his daughter are escorted to their rooms, Jungkook feels a rush of satisfaction.

This is only the beginning. He’s patient, playing the long game.

China is the prize.

But as they move through the palace, his gaze drifts to you—Yn of Goryeo. You walk beside him, and Jungkook feels a sense of pride surge within him.

His mind may be focused on his grand plan, but you are always in his thoughts, always by his side.

Though the princess and her father are staying for only a few days, Jungkook’s attention is elsewhere.

He isn’t concerned with them, not really. His mind is set on his greater goal, and China is only a matter of time.

The palace is his domain. And this is only the start of the game.

“Good girl. I am so proud of you for behaving. As I expect you will be in my chambers tonight since I don’t want the king to think that you and I stay in separate chambers.”

He looks at you in a way that makes sure that his message is sent across.

This is not up for debate. You will have to stay in his chambers as long as the princess and the king of China stay here.

And jungkook intends to take advantage of that fact fully.

Starting from tonight.

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