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just-aake · 2 months ago

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Whispered in Russian

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha teaches you how to speak some Russian during your time together on a mission.

A/n: this was inspired from a request. Not sure if it was what you expected but I hope you'll still enjoy it.

Warnings: fluff, suggestive themes, cursing, Russian translations from google (because I unfortunately do not know the language)

Words: 3250

“Bron' dlya Nataliyi Romanovoy.”

Natasha’s Russian accent flows effortlessly, her voice smooth and confident as she speaks to the front desk receptionist. Her tone carries the ease of someone completely at home in the language.

It’s a voice you’ve grown intimately familiar with—not just as her teammate for years but also as her partner.

Which also makes it easier to pick up and piece together some of the words, though you’re still far from being fluent.

Reservation for Natalia Romanova, you translate silently.

The receptionist offers a polite smile, tapping away at her computer until she finds the reservation. With a nod, she retrieves a key card and slides it across the counter to Natasha.

“Dobro pozhalovat, gospazha Romanova. Vot vashi klyuchi ot nomera.”

You listen intently, trying to match the sounds to meaning, but the words come faster than you can process. Your grasp falters after the first few phrases.

Welcome…Romanova…key

You almost have it, but the rest slips through your mental filter, lost in the quick flow of syllables. Before you can catch up, the receptionist continues in a kind but rapid tone.

“Esli vam ili vashey zhene potrebuyetsya pomoshch, pozvonite na resepshn, i my s radostyu vam pomozhem.”

At that, Natasha’s lips quirk up in a small, amused smirk. The expression is subtle but unmistakable, and it draws your curiosity.

You glance at her, silently asking what amused her, but she offers no explanation, only thanking the receptionist with a graceful nod as she takes the key card.

“Spasibo,” Natasha says, her voice as composed as ever.

Thank you.

That part you recognize immediately, the basic phrase standing out like a familiar face in a crowd.

Natasha’s hand finds your waist as she guides you away from the desk, her touch grounding and affectionate.

Still, your mind lingers curiously on the exchange.

Once inside the room, you dive into setting up your equipment for the mission, carefully pulling out the listening gear from your bag.

Meanwhile, Natasha checks the room methodically, her eyes scanning for anything amiss. She ends her sweep at the window, drawing back the shutters slightly to observe the building across the street—the one where the targets work at.

“What did the receptionist say to you at the end?” you ask, your curiosity finally spilling over as you adjust the calibration on the gear.

Natasha glances over her shoulder at you, a glint of amusement in her eyes. She takes her time responding, watching as you work with meticulous focus.

“She said if we needed anything, we could call the front desk,” Natasha replies casually, her tone almost too neutral.

You pause, narrowing your eyes as you turn to face her.

“That’s it?” you ask, skepticism lacing your voice. “Then why did you react like that?”

The smirk you’d noticed earlier reappears, tugging at the corners of her lips. Natasha steps closer to you, wrapping her arms around your waist and leaning in.

“Zhena,” she repeats slowly, enunciating the word with deliberate care. Her breath is warm against your skin as she presses a quick, affectionate kiss to your cheek. “It means ‘wife.’ She called you my wife.”

“Oh,” you reply, your heart fluttering at the thought.

You fall silent for a moment, processing, before quietly repeating the word under your breath.

“Zhena,” you murmur, practicing the pronunciation like a secret you want to keep safe. You say it again, slightly louder, trying to mimic Natasha’s intonation.

Natasha’s expression softens as she watches your reaction, her smirk giving way to a small, genuine smile.

Once satisfied with your attempt, you nod firmly, confidence growing.

Your gaze shifts to the small table in the corner of the room, and something catches your eye. You gesture toward it, brow raised.

“Well,” you say, “that explains the bottle of champagne.”

Natasha follows your gaze, her chuckle warm and rich as she spots the chilled, unopened bottle perched beside two crystal glasses.

“Hill said this was the only room available,” she replies, her fingers tracing soft patterns at your sides. Her voice drops slightly, the edge of a smirk returning to her lips. “Guess that means we’re playing newlyweds.”

You wrap your arms around her shoulders, leaning against her as you ponder the situation.

“Alright,” you nod thoughtfully, “and it won’t look suspicious if we don’t leave our room much since, technically, we’re on our honeymoon.”

Natasha’s smirk deepens, her eyes glinting with mischief. She tilts her head closer, her lips brushing lightly against yours.

“Oh, that sounds fun,” she murmurs, her tone dropping into a suggestive lilt.

You roll your eyes, though the small smile tugging at your lips betrays your amusement.

“I meant it’s a good cover for our mission,” you say pointedly, pulling back just enough to regain your composure. You gesture toward the gear on the table before raising a brow at her. “Or did you already forget the reason why we’re here in the first place?”

Natasha doesn’t answer immediately.

Instead, her smirk shifts into something a little more daring as she tightens her hold on your waist before pulling you flush against her. Her lips ghost over yours again as she leans in, just close enough for her voice to drop to a whisper.

“I’m multitasking,” she teases, the husky tone sending a shiver down your spine before she closes the small distance between you two.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Some time later, after you two manage to refocus on the mission, you settle in to monitor the listening equipment.

The two of you wait patiently, earpieces in place, scanning for the key information you need.

But after a few hours of static-filled recordings, indistinct conversations, and absolutely nothing useful, Natasha notices your shoulders beginning to tense with exhaustion.

She rests a hand on your arm.

“Take a break,” she offers softly. “I’ll keep watch for now.”

You hesitate, but the encouraging smile on her lips convinces you.

“Alright,” you relent, stretching out your stiff shoulders before heading to the bathroom for a quick shower.

Once inside, the hot water works wonders, the steam easing the tension in your muscles.

You feel the stress of the mission starts to melt away, but as you finish, you realize you’ve made a small mistake.

You forgot to grab your change of clothes for the night.

With a sigh, you wrap the towel around yourself, water still clinging to your skin, and step out of the bathroom.

The cool air sends a shiver through you as you pad quietly toward your bag.

Natasha’s back is to you as she speaks on the hotel phone.

Her voice flows smoothly in Russian, soft but clear, and you catch a few familiar words—borscht, pelmeni, blini—dishes you’ve heard her name before.

As you rummage through your belongings, it hits you: she’s ordering dinner. You smile to yourself, amused by the domesticity of the moment, even in the middle of a mission.

Not wanting to take any longer, you quickly grab what you need, tossing your bag back in its original position as you hear Natasha finish up.

“Da, prosto ostav’te—blyat…”

The abrupt edge in Natasha’s voice pulls your attention, her sudden exclamation making you look up in curiosity.

Her words have stopped mid-sentence, her lips parted slightly as her eyes roam over you. Her gaze lingers on the droplets of water still glistening on your skin, the curve of your shoulders, and the towel that clings just a little too loosely to your body.

It takes her a moment to catch herself. Natasha clears her throat, her voice steadier as she quickly finishes her conversation.

“Prostite,” she mutters into the phone. “Ostav’te yedu u dveri. Spasibo.”

You pause where you stand as you attempt to piece together what she just said. Your limited Russian skills manage to translate fragments: leave…food…door.

It’s enough to guess that she told them to leave your dinners outside the room so they won’t come in and see all your equipment set up.

But you also notice that there’s one word missing from the sentence—the one she exclaimed earlier.

It lingers in your mind, unaccounted for, and you try remembering how Natasha said it.

“Blyat…” you repeat, testing the word carefully, sounding it out until you nod in satisfaction, confident you’ve got it.

A low groan comes from Natasha, prompting you to look back at her. Her eyes are noticeably darker now.

“Bozhe moy…” Natasha mutters under her breath, shaking her head lightly in exasperation.

Your brow quirks in amusement at her tone, a small smile tugging at your lips. “What does it mean?”

“It’s a curse word—just something someone would say when they’re surprised or frustrated,” Natasha says stiffly, her voice a little strained, though she manages to seem mostly composed.

Her eyes eventually betray her, though, drifting back to the droplets of water sliding down your skin.

“So what’s the translation?” you press, crossing your arms at her vague response. The motion inadvertently shifts the towel, loosening it further.

Natasha’s jaw tightens. Her gaze flickers to the towel, and she exhales sharply through her nose, her control clearly fraying.

Even though she looks like she’s about to close the distance between you, it’s clear she won’t answer your question, which makes your expression fall lightly into a mock disappointed pout.

“You said you’d help me improve my Russian during this mission,” you remind her, your tone innocently light as you step closer to stand in front of her.

The memory of her promise lingers in your mind—how she’d caught you practicing in secret and insisted you ask her for help whenever you needed it.

Her lips twist in hesitation, probably also remembering her promise, and for a moment, it seems like she might resist.

But then she relents with a sigh.

“It’s basically like saying ‘fuck,’” Natasha explains, her voice low and even. She fixes you with a pointed look, her gaze burning as she adds, “As in, you surprised me, standing half-naked in the middle of the room like this.”

A laugh escapes you, though your cheeks warm at the intensity of her gaze. You move to hover a hand above her chest, tracing a finger lightly against the edge of her tank top.

“Were you surprised…or frustrated?” you ask, your tone full of mischief.

Natasha shoots you a warning look, one that says you already know the answer.

“I don’t think learning Russian curse words was part of your original goal here,” she counters, her voice tight.

“Who says I haven’t learned some phrases already?” you reply with a playful shrug.

Her eyebrows lift, intrigued. “Like what?”

You shake your head, refusing to elaborate. “I’m still practicing my pronunciation.”

Natasha smirks, leaning closer. “I can help.”

The listening equipment chooses that moment to beep suddenly, interrupting your conversation, as it signals incoming noises.

“Too bad we’re still on the clock,” you quip with a teasing smile.

Natasha’s attention flickers reluctantly to the gear, her expression briefly clouded with disappointment.

You take the opportunity to head back to the bathroom and finish up.

As you go, a smirk tugs at your lips, the Russian phrase you’ve been practicing simmering in your mind.

Just as you step through the doorway, you hum thoughtfully, your voice low and deliberate as you mutter under your breath—just loud enough for Natasha to hear.

“How did it go again...trak-hni…menya…trakhni menya…”

You don’t need to turn around to know the effect your words have. Natasha’s sharp intake of breath is unmistakable, and your smirk widens in satisfaction.

Behind you, Natasha freezes, her lips parting slightly, her entire body going still as she processes what you just said. The weight of your casual tone and the boldness of your phrasing leave her momentarily stunned.

By the time she regains her composure, you’ve already disappeared into the bathroom, the door closing with a soft click.

A low, disbelieving chuckle escapes her after a moment, followed by a quiet grumble as she mutters to herself, “Of all the times to be on a mission…”

Natasha shakes her head and exhales, grabbing the earpiece with a resigned sigh.

Sliding it back on, she tries to focus on the task at hand, her eyes scanning the equipment as if sheer willpower could drown out her thoughts.

But her gaze betrays her, drifting back toward the bathroom door.

It lingers there, her resolve wavering as the temptation to follow you creeps in, tugging at her self-control.

Her mind conjures an image of you inside��water still clinging to your skin and your voice low and teasing as you repeat the Russian phrase for “fuck me” over and over again.

The imagination is enough to make her swallow hard, her grip tightening on the table’s edge.

With a sharp, frustrated exhale, Natasha forces her attention back to the mission, her eyes narrowing as if determination alone could block the distractions.

And she does succeed in regaining her composure eventually, though, every now and again, your voice echoes in her mind—soft, playful, and full of mischief.

Each syllable you murmured is as clear as if you were still standing there, taunting her with that dangerous smirk.

The corners of her lips twitch despite herself.

You’ve always told her how much you love hearing her speak in Russian—how the sound of it stirs something in you.

Natasha had always found your words amusing, but hearing you just now, with your hesitant yet deliberate tone, she’s beginning to understand exactly what you meant.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

After dinner, Natasha takes it upon herself to continue monitoring the listening gear, insisting that you rest up first after the long trip here and the exhausting setup.

Her tone left little room for argument, so you relented, knowing how stubborn she could be about these things and the fact that she is more than capable of staying concentrated on the task for longer than you can.

Hours pass, the rhythmic static and indistinct chatter from the equipment blending into the quiet of the room.

Natasha barely notices how late it’s gotten until she feels your arms wrap gently around her shoulders from behind.

You lean in close, your warm breath brushing against the side of her head as you carefully remove her earpieces.

“Poydem so mnoy spat’,” you whisper softly.

Natasha’s lips curve into a small, pleased smile at your perfect pronunciation. Turning to face you, she raises a brow, her expression amused.

“Did you learn that specifically for moments like this?” she teases.

You smirk back at her.

“With how often you lose yourself in work, I figured learning how to call you to bed should be one of the first things I perfect.”

Natasha shakes her head fondly, a quiet laugh escaping her lips.

“Of course you would,” she murmurs, but there’s no mistaking the affection in her voice.

Obliging you, she removes the rest of the gear and allows you to pull her gently from the chair toward the large bed.

As she moves, her gaze flickers to the nightstand, catching sight of your tablet screen. The familiar display of the language-learning app you’ve been using to practice Russian glows faintly in the dim light.

Settling in beside her, you lie back against the pillows while Natasha props herself up on one elbow, her head resting on her hand. Her green eyes glimmer with a soft light as she looks at you, a small smile playing on her lips.

“You know,” she says, tilting her head slightly, “I’m sure I can teach you Russian better than that app.”

Her comment makes you laugh lightly.

“I know, but our free time doesn’t always line up for me to get a lesson from Ms. Romanoff,” you tease, smirking.

“It’s Mrs.,” Natasha corrects, her playful smirk matching yours. “Don’t forget, we’re technically married right now.”

You smile, your gaze softening as you look at her.

“Right. How could I forget that you’re my ‘zhena?’”

The word slips out in a playful, teasing tone, but it has an unexpected effect.

Natasha’s heart flutters so much at hearing you call her your wife in Russian that she has to look away for a moment to regain her composure.

Her expression is tender when she looks back at you, her other arm moving around your midsection and pulling you closer.

“I have time now,” she offers, her voice low. “Anything you want to learn?”

You hum thoughtfully, tapping your chin as you consider.

“Alright, how do you say…‘you look beautiful?’”

Natasha’s smile widens slightly.

“Ty vyglyadish’ prekrasno,” she replies smoothly.

You repeat the phrase under your breath, scrunching your face slightly in concentration as you practice. Once you’re confident enough, you turn to her with a gentle smile.

“Ty vy-glya-dish’ prekrasno,” you say, your pronunciation close but not perfect.

Natasha chuckles softly in amusement when she realizes you just wanted to say the phrase back to her.

“Are you trying to make me fall for you even more by complimenting me in Russian?”

You smirk playfully. “Depends. Is it working?”

Huffing lightly, Natasha rolls her eyes, though there’s a clear fondness in her exasperation. She looks away briefly, but you catch her cheek gently, turning her gaze back to yours.

“How do you say…‘I love you?’” you ask softly, your voice tinged with both curiosity and affection.

Natasha’s expression softens further, her features open and vulnerable as she answers.

“Ya tebya lyublyu,” she says, enunciating each syllable carefully for you.

“Ya tebya lyu…blyu,” you repeat slowly, trying to mimic how her lips move, but the last syllable doesn’t quite land how it should.

Natasha chuckles lightly, her hand moving to cup your chin.

“When you say ‘lyublyu,’” she explains gently, “you have to purse your lips more.”

You try again, adjusting your pronunciation, and then glance at her for confirmation.

“Like that?” you ask innocently, unaware that you had said it perfectly, making Natasha’s heart beat a little faster at the sound of your voice saying those words to her in her native language.

“Say it again,” Natasha murmurs, her voice soft.

Focusing intently, you follow her previous instructions.

“Ya tebya lyublyu.”

Just as you say the last sound, Natasha leans in suddenly, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

Your smile grows against her mouth as realization dawns that she made you repeat it for her benefit.

“Mmm, you’re teasing me when you're supposed to be teaching me,” you murmur lightly in reprimand.

Natasha pulls back slightly, her green eyes glinting with playful mischief.

“Maybe I just love the way you say it,” she counters, her tone low and warm.

You huff lightly, rolling your eyes in mock exasperation before scooting closer.

Natasha relaxes fully into the bed, letting you rest your head on her shoulder and tuck your face into the curve of her neck. Her arms wrap around you, holding you in a soft embrace.

After a moment of comfortable silence, Natasha’s voice breaks through, gentle and curious.

“What made you decide to learn Russian?”

There’s a brief pause as you consider her question, and then you tilt your head to look up at her, your eyes filled with affection.

“Russian is a part of who you are, Natasha,” you say earnestly. “Where you came from. To learn another way to connect with you…” You trail off, your soft smile widening. “Who wouldn’t want to do that?”

Natasha’s heart swells at your words, and for a moment, all she can do is hold you closer, her fingers brushing lightly over your back.

“Ya tebya lyublyu,” she whispers, her voice barely audible but still filled with the depth of her feelings for you.

You settle back against her, smiling into her shoulder, your voice gentle as you reply.

“Ya tebya lyublyu, too.”

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

a/n: got distracted by a cute request and made another little fluff fic. thank you for reading! Now I'll get back to working on my series. 😅

Also here are the translations below:

“Bron' dlya Nataliyi Romanovoy.” - Reservation for Natalia Romanova.

“Dobro pozhalovat, gospazha Romanova. Vot vashi klyuchi ot nomera.” - Welcome, Mrs. Romanova. Here are your room keys.

“Esli vam ili vashey zhene potrebuyetsya pomoshch, pozvonite na resepshn, i my s radostyu vam pomozhem.” - If you or your wife need assistance, please call the front desk and we will be happy to assist you.

“Spasibo,” - Thank you

“Zhena,” - Wife

“Da, prosto ostav’te—blyat…” - Yes, just leave it—fuck...

“Prostite, Ostav’te yedu u dveri. Spasibo.” - Sorry, leave the food at the door. Thank you.

“Blyat” - fuck

“Bozhe moy…” - My god...

“...trak-hni…menya…trakhni menya…” - ..fuck...me...fuck me...

“Poydem so mnoy spat’,” - Come to bed with me

“Ty vyglyadish’ prekrasno,” - You look beautiful

“Ya tebya lyublyu,” - I love you

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff x you #black widow x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanov x reader #natasha romanoff

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dksfml · 3 months ago

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Love 119 [Part Three]

part of my paramedic!jungwon series. [part one] [part two] [part four (prequel)]

pairing: paramedic!jungwon x doctor!reader genre: enemies at work, lovers at home. secret dating. jungwon is just doing his duties, suggestive, submissive jungwon, fluff (only in the start lol) summary: you celebrate your first anniversary with jungwon’s mouth on another woman, so you remind him what yours tastes like. word count: 7.4k author's note: the third part of this seriess!! i swear it's just getting freakier and longer every after part. i hope you enjoy this one! reply or request if you want to be part of the taglist<333

You stir awake, the haze of sleep still clinging to you like a warm blanket. The soft morning light filters through the blinds, painting streaks of gold across the sheets. Your body feels heavy, a pleasant exhaustion lingering from the chaos of yesterday’s shift—and maybe something more.

As your eyes flutter open, the first thing you see is Jungwon. He’s lying on his side, facing you, one arm tucked under his head to prop himself up. His bare torso is on full display, lean muscle and smooth skin catching the light in a way that almost makes you think you’re still dreaming.

He’s watching you with a lazy smile, his hair slightly messy, the boyish charm of his grin blending effortlessly with the undeniable allure of his half-dressed state. There’s a glint of amusement in his eyes, one that only grows when your gaze meets his.

The soft chill of the morning air seeps into your skin, prompting you to burrow deeper into the covers. Your voice is barely above a whisper as you mumble, “I’m cold,” the words slipping out unconsciously.

Jungwon pauses, his gaze softening as he studies your half-asleep form. Without saying a word, he shifts closer, the mattress dipping slightly beneath his weight. He tugs the blanket higher over your shoulders, his fingers brushing against your skin briefly, sending a small, unintentional shiver through you.

“Better?” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing, laced with a hint of amusement. But before you can respond, he leans back into his original position, his torso stretching in the process.

The motion draws your attention as he props himself up on one elbow again. The sunlight dances across his skin, accentuating the subtle lines of his muscles. A groan escapes him as he adjusts his weight, breaking the momentary silence.

“This position makes my abs hurt, you know,” he says, his tone casual but tinged with playful teasing, as if daring you to react.

Your eyes flick down, almost involuntarily, to his stomach, and the sight before you is enough to make your pulse stutter. His defined abs contract as he adjusts himself, every line of muscle taut and perfectly framed. The blanket rests low on his hips, leaving very little to the imagination.

You immediately snap your gaze back up, your cheeks warming. “Then why lie down like that?” you ask, trying to sound unimpressed but failing miserably.

Jungwon tilts his head, his smile growing softer. “Because I love watching you like this,” he murmurs, his voice low and steady, the words settling over you like a gentle embrace.

Your heart skips a beat, and you don’t quite know how to respond. You’re not used to this side of him—unapologetically tender, his teasing stripped down to something raw and sincere.

“Watching me drool in my sleep?” you finally say, hoping to lighten the moment and mask the warmth spreading through your chest.

He chuckles, the sound deep and rich, sending a shiver down your spine. “Not quite,” he replies, leaning in slightly, his face just a breath away from yours. “More like admiring how peaceful you look when you’re not yelling at me about work rules or rolling your eyes at my jokes.”

His hand finds yours, and he laces your fingers together, his thumb brushing softly over your knuckles. It’s such a simple gesture, but it makes your heart flutter in a way you’re definitely not prepared for.

“Speaking of plans,” Jungwon starts, his tone a little quieter now, but there’s a spark of mischief in his eyes. “You remember what we said we’d do for our one-year anniversary?”

You blink at him, your brain still catching up. “Anniversary?”

“The beach trip,” he reminds you, his lips curving into a smile that’s unfairly charming. “You know, the one we’ve been talking about forever but never actually made happen because someone—” he gently pokes your side, earning a surprised squeak from you, “—is married to their job.”

“Excuse me!” you protest, sitting up slightly. “You’re the one who never takes a day off, Mr. Heroic Paramedic.”

“Touché,” he laughs, his hand still holding yours. “But I’m serious this time. No pagers, no alarms, no emergencies. Just us, the waves, and maybe some terrible sunscreen tan lines.”

The mention of the trip makes your chest tighten with a rush of emotions. You’d tucked that dream away, figuring it would never happen between the chaos of your lives. But now, hearing him bring it up so earnestly, you feel your cheeks heat with unexpected joy.

“You remembered,” you whisper, your voice soft and a little awed.

“Of course I remembered,” he says, looking at you like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I’ve been looking forward to it. Haven’t you?”

Your lips part, and for a second, all you can do is nod, feeling ridiculously shy under his gaze. “I—yeah, I have,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve been wanting to go for so long… with you.”

His grin spreads, slow and wickedly boyish. “With me, huh? You sound kind of obsessed.”

“Oh my God, Jungwon!” You groan, shoving at his shoulder, but he catches your hand easily, laughing as he pulls you closer.

“Don’t be shy now,” he teases, his voice dropping into something softer, more intimate. “It’s cute. You’re cute.”

Your cheeks feel like they’re on fire, and you bury your face in his chest, mumbling something incoherent. He chuckles, the sound reverberating through you like a warm hug, as his free hand drifts to gently trace over the fading hickey on your neck—the one he left just last night.

“You know,” he murmurs, his voice full of mischief as his fingers lazily skim your skin, “this might be my best work yet.”

“You’re insufferable,” you grumble, trying to sound annoyed but failing miserably as goosebumps rise in the wake of his touch.

“And yet, you love me,” he replies smoothly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Which is why we’re going to that beach, no matter what. I already started looking at places. A little beach house, just us. What do you think?”

You peek up at him, your eyes wide with a mix of surprise and excitement. “You mean it?”

“Do I ever joke about stuff like this?” he asks, and when you hesitate, he adds with mock offense, “Don’t answer that.”

You giggle despite yourself, the sound spilling out of you before you can stop it. “Okay, fine. I’ll take you seriously this time.”

“Good,” he says, his hand slipping around your waist as he pulls you even closer. “Because I’m picturing us on the sand, soaking up the sun, maybe arguing over how much sunscreen you forgot to put on.”

“Excuse me, I’m very responsible with sunscreen!” you say, sitting up straight to glare at him, though the effect is ruined by the smile tugging at your lips.

“Sure you are,” he says, his grin teasing as he leans in. “But you know what? Even if you turned into a lobster, I’d still think you’re the cutest thing on the beach.”

You groan, shoving at him again, but this time he topples backward, taking you with him. You land in a tangled heap, his laughter mixing with your protests as he wraps you in his arms.

“You’re impossible,” you mutter, though you’re smiling so hard your cheeks hurt.

“And you’re mine,” he replies easily, his voice softer now as he looks up at you. “One year down, and we’re only getting started.”

Your heart feels like it might burst, and for a moment, you just stare at him, the weight of his words sinking in. “Yeah,” you say softly, resting your forehead against his. “We are.”

And as you lie there, tangled up in him with the morning sun streaming in, you let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, this dream of yours is finally within reach.

The day had been long, the kind where you couldn’t wait to jump in your bed, let alone entertain the idea of more teasing from your coworkers. It was the end of the shift, and as you packed up your things, you couldn’t help but hear the familiar whispers that had been circulating throughout the day. They’d been subtly, yet persistently, questioning your sudden decision to file leave for next week. And when you’d dropped the bomb that you’d be taking three days off, your coworkers had practically pounced on you.

"Going on a date?" one of them asked, grinning, clearly enjoying the moment.

You gave a half-smile, but played it cool, keeping the details about your time off to yourself. "Maybe?" you replied with a teasing tilt of your head, your voice casual but with just enough of a playful edge to keep them guessing.

“Oh, so it’s a date date?” another one chimed in, raising an eyebrow. "Or are you just going for a spontaneous adventure?"

You bit back a smile, holding your ground. “That’s for me to know and you to wonder about.”

But your coworkers weren’t quite done yet. They shared a conspiratorial look, the kind that only happens when they think they’ve caught something juicy. "Funny," one of them said, leaning in, "Riki also filed for leave next week. Guess it’s the week to go on a getaway. What are you two up to, hmm?"

Your eyes widened just a bit, but you didn’t let it show. Not Riki. Your colleagues’ eyes twinkled with mischief as they continued their teasing. "Could it be that you and Riki are planning some... romantic getaway?"

You could see Riki in the corner of your eye, standing by the supply closet, looking thoroughly confused as he overheard the conversation. He was always the innocent one in this mess. You glanced at him, barely able to keep from laughing at how flustered he looked already.

"Oh, no," you said with a mischievous glint, your voice light but professional as you turned to Riki, who seemed to shrink into himself. "Riki’s just off to his sister’s graduation. Nothing more to see here, folks."

Riki blinked, completely unaware of the teasing in the air. “Right! I’m just going for my sister’s graduation,” he said with a completely straight face, oblivious to the undercurrent of the conversation.

Your coworkers, however, were having none of it. "Sure, Riki," one of them teased with a smirk, "A sister’s graduation. How convenient." They shared a laugh, clearly enjoying Riki's obliviousness, while you tried your best to stay professional, even though you were fighting a smile.

Riki just looked around, still confused by the attention. “What?” he asked, genuinely lost, not picking up on the implications. “It really is just that.”

Another coworker, not missing a beat, chimed in. “Well, if you’re both taking leave at the same time, I guess we’ll call it a ‘coincidence.’”

You fixed them all with a calm but firm gaze, your voice cutting through the banter. “Alright, enough,” you said, your tone brokering no argument. “I’m taking time off for personal reasons, Riki is attending his sister’s graduation—no more assumptions. Now, unless you want me to start assigning extra shifts, I suggest we all get back to work. We've got patients to care for, don’t we?”

The teasing immediately ceased, and your coworkers scattered, murmuring apologies as they returned to their stations. Riki, still trying to piece everything together, gave you a nod, grateful for the quick save.

"Riki, here," you said, walking up to him with a small, knowing smile. "I borrowed your coat yesterday, and I figured I should return it."

His face immediately softened with relief at the change of subject. "Oh, right," he said, taking the coat from you. His fingers brushed against yours briefly as he took it, and he fumbled slightly, his gaze darting to the side. "Thanks for bringing it back so quickly."

“No problem,” you replied, raising an eyebrow. "You need it for your shift tomorrow, right?"

Riki nodded, his gaze finally meeting yours, but there was a curious hesitation there, a flicker of something else that caught your attention. "So..." he began slowly, almost as if testing the waters. "I, uh, was meaning to ask you earlier. Are you... actually dating someone?"

Your eyes softened slightly at the question. You could sense the genuine curiosity in his voice, and you appreciated that he was asking out of sincerity, not to add fuel to the teasing.

You hesitated for just a moment, not out of uncertainty, but more because you didn’t want to spill all the details. “Yes,” you answered sincerely, offering a smile. "I’m in a relationship. It’s been a while now."

Riki blinked at your response, his expression unreadable for a moment as he processed your words. There was a brief pause before he spoke again, his tone now quieter, almost as if the reality of your answer had settled in.

“Oh,” he said, simply. His face remained neutral, but there was something about the way his shoulders slumped ever so slightly that hinted at a tinge of disappointment, or maybe just confusion. It was hard to read, but you noticed it.

You couldn't help but soften your gaze at him. It wasn’t as though you’d been hiding the fact that you were in a relationship, but there was something about the way Riki asked that made it seem more... personal, more significant. His question wasn’t casual—there was an underlying sincerity to it.

“So… you don’t want to know more details?” you teased lightly, trying to lighten the mood, though you couldn't quite suppress the small, almost wistful smile on your face.

Riki blinked again, seemingly caught off guard by the question. He shook his head quickly, a slight flush creeping up his neck. “Uh, no,” he said, though his voice had a touch of sheepishness to it. “I just wanted to make sure, you know, since... well, I didn’t want to be awkward or anything.”

You raised an eyebrow, half-smiling. "Awkward?" You leaned against the counter casually, not wanting to make him feel uncomfortable, but still enjoying the rare moment of candidness between the two of you. “There’s no need for that. It’s just... I’m in a relationship. That’s all there is to it."

Riki nodded quickly, though there was an almost imperceptible sigh that escaped him. He seemed to be sorting through his thoughts, as if trying to connect the dots, but didn't push any further.

"So, uh, how long have you two been together?" His question came out a bit more suddenly, like he was trying to switch gears in a way that would make the situation feel less charged.

You met his gaze again, taking in the subtle shift in his demeanor, how his face seemed a little more relaxed now, as though the weight of the conversation had lightened. You thought about Jungwon for a moment—his presence always felt like a quiet reassurance, even when you weren’t with him.

“Quite a while,” you answered, the corner of your lips lifting into a small smile. “It’s been long enough that we’ve stopped worrying about all the small stuff. We’re... past the uncertainty.”

Riki gave a slow nod, the light in his eyes shifting to something a bit warmer, as if the idea of you and Jungwon being comfortable together made more sense to him. "That’s... really nice," he said, his voice steady, though there was a soft sincerity that added an unexpected weight to the words. "I’m glad you found someone."

There was an odd kind of quiet between you two, the office noise continuing around you, but it felt like this little bubble of conversation had shut it all out for a moment.

You could see that Riki was still processing everything, but the awkwardness that initially lingered between you two was gone. There was something more genuine now, a mutual respect, even if you hadn’t shared every detail. The conversation felt like an end to one chapter of your relationship with him and the beginning of another—a little less guarded, a little more human.

“Thanks, Riki,” you said, smiling warmly at him. “I appreciate that.”

Riki gave you a small, shy smile in return, still holding onto the coat you’d returned to him. "No problem. And, uh, if you ever want to talk... about anything... I’m here," he offered, clearly trying to be supportive in the only way he knew how.

“Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind,” you replied, your voice soft, but professional.

You glanced back at him with a subtle, almost imperceptible smile. “Let’s go. We’ve got no time for distractions.”

The day you had been waiting for had finally arrived—the getaway to the beach that you and Jungwon had planned so carefully, and now, as you both stepped out of the car, the salty breeze kissed your skin and the sound of waves lapping at the shore greeted you.

The sun dipped lower, casting an amber glow across the beach as you and Jungwon walked along the shore, the sound of the waves gently crashing in the background. The air was warm, carrying a light breeze that tousled your hair and wrapped around you like a comforting embrace. It was the perfect end to the day, but there was something else in the atmosphere—something more intimate, a traction you could almost touch.

You could feel his presence beside you, just close enough for his warmth to seep into you, yet distant enough that the space between you felt charged with possibility. His hand brushed against yours, and you didn’t pull away, instead letting your fingers gently touch, then intertwine. The simple contact sent a rush of heat through your body, and for a moment, everything else faded away—just you, him, and the sound of the ocean.

“Feels like a dream, doesn’t it?” Jungwon murmured, his voice soft and laced with an emotion that caught you off guard. You tilted your head to look at him, your eyes meeting his.

"Yeah, it does," you agreed, the words tasting sweeter than usual. You didn’t want to break the magic, the feeling of being alone in this perfect little bubble, just the two of you.

He gave you a small smile, his gaze lingering on you as if trying to say something without words. The way he looked at you—so soft, yet full of desire—made your heart race.

“You know,” he said, his voice dropping lower as he gave your hand a gentle squeeze, “you’re even more beautiful out here, with the sun on your skin.” He reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. The touch was light, almost reverent, and it sent a shiver down your spine. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little distracted.”

You blinked, the unexpected compliment pulling a soft laugh from your lips. “Well, aren’t you full of surprises today?”

He laughed quietly, but the teasing edge in his voice was absent, replaced by something more sincere. “I’m always full of surprises,�� he said, his thumb lightly grazing the back of your hand. The moment felt more intimate than you expected, your heart beating a little faster as the weight of his gaze settled on you. “But I mean it. You really are.”

You weren’t sure how to respond, so you simply smiled, your fingers tightening around his, silently acknowledging the connection between you. It was enough.

After a long pause, Jungwon turned toward the towel he had spread out earlier, the one you’d been lounging on, and rummaged through his bag. He pulled out a bottle of sunscreen, the cool plastic in stark contrast to the hot air around you. You glanced down at your shoulders and realized with a jolt that you had completely forgotten to apply any sunscreen.

You winced a little, already feeling the heat beginning to build under your skin. “Uh, looks like I forgot something,” you said, half-laughing at your own oversight, trying to keep the mood light.

Jungwon caught your eye and smirked, clearly noticing your discomfort. “Need some help with that?” His eyebrow arched, the playful teasing in his voice making your heart skip a beat.

You raised an eyebrow in return, a teasing grin tugging at your lips. “Actually,” you replied, glancing down at his bare, tanned shoulders and realizing you could use his help as much as he needed yours, “I think you need some help. You’ve got a lot of skin to cover.”

Jungwon chuckled and nodded, his lips curling into a smile. “Fair enough. I’ll take care of you, then,” he said, his voice low, almost too smooth as he unscrewed the cap and poured some lotion into his hand. The air between you seemed to shift, charged with an energy that made your breath catch.

He reached out, a slow, deliberate move as he gently applied the sunscreen to your shoulders. His touch was light, but the heat from his skin made the lotion feel almost like an intimate caress. You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to focus on the cooling sensation, but the intimacy of the moment—his hands gliding over your skin—made your pulse race.

"Don’t want you turning into a lobster," Jungwon teased, his fingers brushing your collarbone. The touch was light but electric, sending a shiver down your spine. His hand lingered just a second longer than necessary, the warmth of his skin contrasting with the coolness of the sunscreen.

He moved to the other side, his fingers grazing your shoulder, the sensation soft but deliberate, as if savoring the contact. When his thumb brushed the back of your neck, you couldn’t help but hold your breath, the subtle pressure making your skin tingle.

For a brief moment, you both stayed still, the air thick with something unspoken. His touch was gentle but possessive, as if he didn’t want to pull away. “All done,” he murmured, his voice low, his hands still resting on your skin. The tension between you lingered, leaving your heart racing.

“Thanks,” you managed, though your voice was a little more breathless than you intended. You met his gaze, trying to hide the warmth in your cheeks. “I’ll return the favor, don’t worry.”

Jungwon chuckled again, but there was a mischievous glint in his eyes as he leaned in just slightly, his lips brushing against your ear. “You’d better.”

You stepped forward, taking the bottle of lotion from him and squeezing out a generous amount. The cool lotion met your warm skin as you applied it to his shoulders, your fingers smoothing the cream in slow, careful circles. His body tensed slightly beneath your touch, but not in discomfort—more in anticipation. You could feel the muscles under his skin shift as you worked your way down his back, your touch lingering longer than necessary, letting the moment stretch out between you.

“Hmm,” Jungwon muttered, his voice quiet as he tilted his head slightly to look at you. “That feels good. Almost like you’re trying to spoil me.”

You laughed softly, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Maybe I am,” you teased. But your voice softened again as your hands continued to move over his skin, now reaching his lower back, your fingers gliding over the soft expanse. The simple touch was intimate in a way that left you both a little breathless.

He closed his eyes for a moment, as if savoring the contact. “You’ve got good hands,” he said, his voice low, the words almost a compliment, though there was something else beneath them—a quiet, simmering desire that neither of you dared to acknowledge aloud.

“Glad you think so,” you murmured, your own heart beating faster. The space between you was thick with unspoken tension, the air charged, both of you aware of how close you were, how every touch seemed to ignite something deeper within.

When you finished applying the lotion to his back, Jungwon turned to face you, his eyes dark with an intensity that matched the warmth of the beach around you. He didn’t speak at first, but his gaze lingered on your lips before moving back up to meet your eyes.

For a moment, it was as if time stood still. The sound of the waves and the rustling of the wind seemed to fade, and all that was left was you and him, standing so close that you could feel the heat radiating off his body.

But just as your heart began to race, just as the tension between you reached a boiling point, a voice pierced the air.

“Help! Help!” It was a shout from the water, distant but desperate. Someone was in trouble.

Jungwon immediately tensed, the playful atmosphere gone in an instant. Without a word, he dropped his hands, his gaze locking on the water. His expression shifted, his focus narrowing, and in the blink of an eye, he was already moving toward the water, his body agile and sure.

“Stay here,” he said, his tone firm yet soft. “I’ll handle this.”

You wanted to argue, but the urgency in his tone left no room for discussion. You hesitated for only a moment before you found yourself trailing behind him, your own heart pounding in your chest as you reached the water's edge. Jungwon was already plunging into the surf, swimming with the grace of someone who had trained for moments like these. The crowd had gathered now, watching with wide eyes, as the seconds ticked by.

He reached the woman, hauling her out of the water with impressive strength. Her body was limp, but Jungwon handled her with care as he placed her gently onto the sand. The crowd murmured in concern, but Jungwon was in his element, focused, calm. His hands moved over the woman’s body as he checked for injuries, his brow furrowed in concentration.

“Someone get a first aid kit! We need help over here!” he called out, his voice steady but urgent.

People around him seemed to freeze, waiting for someone else to act, but no one stepped forward.

You didn’t hesitate. You immediately pulled out your phone, dialing the local authorities. “We need medical assistance at the beach,” you said quickly, your voice crisp, the professional tone taking over. “A woman is unresponsive. She was pulled from the water. We need help immediately.” You gave them the location and hung up, your pulse still racing from the adrenaline.

You hung up quickly, but your eyes never left Jungwon.

He was already beginning chest compressions, his hands pressing firmly against the woman’s sternum, rhythmically pushing. His expression was intense, his jaw tight with concentration. There was no trace of hesitation in his actions. Every movement was measured, calculated to save her life.

You stood frozen for a moment, watching him work—each press of his hands against her chest a reminder of just how much control he had over a situation. His face was hard with focus, his brow furrowed, but there was a hint of something softer in his eyes as he checked the woman’s pulse again. His gaze flickered to you briefly, but he said nothing. There was no need for words between you two now. You both knew what needed to be done.

The woman’s chest still wasn’t rising. Jungwon didn’t stop, his hands never faltering, never speeding up or slowing down. He checked her airway, tilting her head back gently before pinching her nose, his lips pressing firmly against hers to deliver breaths.

Your breath caught in your throat as you watched him perform the life-saving technique, his mouth pressed against hers with the kind of urgency you rarely saw outside of medical emergencies. You hadn’t expected the flutter of something strange, a cold weight that settled in your chest.

You weren’t sure what it was—maybe it was the intensity of the situation, the rawness of what he was doing, or maybe it was the way his lips lingered a fraction longer than necessary. You forced your attention to the woman, checking her pulse at her neck—thready and weak, but there.

You could feel the tension in your chest tightening, but you couldn’t quite name it. It wasn’t like anything you’d felt before. You tried to focus, to push aside the rush of emotions. But the sight of Jungwon so effortlessly confident, so completely in control—it stirred something inside you. You knew this was part of his job, that he had done this countless times before. And yet, there was something intimate about the way he worked, something raw that made your pulse quicken.

The woman wasn’t responding. Jungwon paused to breathe again, his movements fluid and methodical. “Come on…” he muttered, almost to himself, his voice barely audible over the crash of the waves.

As if on cue, you could hear the distant hum of sirens growing louder. Medical help was on the way. But there was still time. Jungwon didn’t let up. His hands moved with precision, and when he performed another round of compressions, his face set in grim determination, you couldn’t tear your eyes away.

Finally, the woman gasped, her body jerking, and her chest rose with a shallow breath. A collective sigh of relief swept over the crowd. Jungwon didn’t stop, though—he kept checking her vitals, his brow furrowed as he worked. But there was a flicker of relief in his expression now.

Still, he wasn’t finished. “Where’s her guardian?” he asked sharply, scanning the crowd, his tone commanding. No one stepped forward.

Jungwon didn’t let the uncertainty slow him down. He checked her airway again, adjusting her position slightly, as he continued to monitor her pulse. “Stay with us,” he muttered under his breath, giving her another round of compressions, the weight of the moment hanging in the air.

The crowd around you seemed to dissipate, but you didn’t move. You stood there, watching Jungwon, your chest tight with some indescribable feeling—something you didn’t want to name, but couldn’t ignore.

As the woman’s pulse started to stabilize, Jungwon looked at you again, his gaze briefly meeting yours, filled with an intensity you didn’t know how to process. There was no time for anything else, though. Medical personnel were almost here, and Jungwon was already back in control, handling the situation with such ease and authority that it left you breathless.

You were grateful for him, for everything he was doing, but a part of you still felt that odd ache in your chest, the feeling lingering long after the danger had passed.

The day had been overwhelming, a whirlwind of emotions that drained every ounce of energy from both of you. By the time you arrived back at the hotel, the exhaustion clung to your bones, as if the weight of the beach’s chaos had followed you in the humid air that seemed to cling to your skin. The usual buzz of life had quieted, leaving only the raw, lingering tension that neither of you had addressed.

Jungwon, ever perceptive, had noticed the change in you. From the moment he’d pulled that woman from the water and worked tirelessly to save her, he’d seen the way your expression had shifted, the way you seemed to retreat into yourself. He knew you—too well, sometimes—and it wasn’t lost on him that this was the first time you’d witnessed him perform mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. That alone would have been enough to make anyone feel uneasy, but on top of that, it was a woman around your age. Jungwon couldn't help but wonder if the situation had stirred up feelings in you he couldn’t fully understand.

He had been silent during the walk back, his mind swirling with thoughts. The usual back-and-forth between you was absent, replaced with a heavy quiet that hung between you both. It wasn’t the comfortable silence that came with shared moments, but a thick, uneasy one. Jungwon glanced at you more than once, his eyes searching for some sign, something that would reassure him everything was okay, but your expression was unreadable. You seemed distant—far away in a way that he hadn’t seen before.

He had seen you work through chaos countless times, both at the hospital and in life. He’d witnessed you maintain your composure under pressure, handling emergencies with an ice-cold focus. But this, seeing you react to him performing CPR on another woman, was different. He could tell. You had always been the kind of person who didn’t let emotions cloud your judgment. But now, there was something behind your eyes—a shift in the air, something unsaid that made him feel unsure.

The woman on the beach was alive because of him, because of both of you, but he couldn’t help but wonder if, in some way, your quietness was born out of something deeper. He knew how you felt about professionalism, how you held both your relationships and your work close, but this... this felt like something more. The fact that you had watched him perform a life-saving act on a stranger, a woman, with such intensity—it seemed to have carved a small divide between you and him.

Jungwon wasn’t sure what to do with this new silence. The weight of it pressed down on him, heavier than the hot air around you both. He wanted to say something, to bridge the gap that had suddenly appeared, but the words eluded him. So he stayed quiet, his mind racing with a thousand thoughts he couldn’t quite piece together.

As you arrived at the hotel, Jungwon opened the door for you, his usual warmth nowhere to be found. He watched as you walked past him without a word, heading straight for the bathroom. The sound of the door closing behind you echoed in the silence, and he slumped against the nearest wall, uncertain of what to do next. He was acutely aware of the tension in the room, how heavy it felt now, like any wrong move would break something fragile between you.

He sat on the bed, fingers running through his hair as he tried to gather his thoughts. He knew you well enough to understand that you were internalizing everything—probably more than you let on. You never showed your hand too clearly, and he respected that. But right now, as you were in the bathroom, washing away the remnants of the day, Jungwon felt like he was stepping on eggshells. He didn’t want to say the wrong thing, to make things worse.

When you finally stepped out of the bathroom, your face was still wet from the towel you’d used to wash away the salty residue of the day. The door opened softly, and his eyes immediately locked with yours. There was a new heaviness in the air now, something between you both that neither of you could ignore.

Jungwon sat at the edge of the bed, his gaze intense, waiting for you to make the first move. Your eyes never left his as you walked toward him. The distance between you was small, but it felt infinite, both of you suspended in an unspoken understanding of what had transpired. He could feel the electricity in the air, thick and undeniable.

When you finally reached him, you paused, just inches away. The traction between you two crackled in the silence. Then, slowly, you raised your hand, fingers brushing against his cheek. His breath hitched at the softness of your touch, his eyes closing as he leaned into it instinctively, seeking comfort in the small, intimate gesture. He didn’t know what this moment meant, but he couldn’t deny the pull between you.

When your fingers reached his lips, the weight of everything left unspoken seemed to paralyze Jungwon, as if his entire body was caught between restraint and desire. His pulse quickened, a soft tremor running through him as you wiped the remnants of the mouth-to-mouth resuscitation off his lips with the towel. He stayed still, breath shallow, allowing you to guide the moment. There was something in the way your touch lingered, in how you moved with such control, that left him unable to do anything but wait—wait for your next move, for the next shift in the tension that was thickening the air between you.

His body hummed with need, his eyes closed as he absorbed the soft, deliberate stroke of the towel, every inch of his skin aching for more. Your proximity was intoxicating, your movements deliberate, yet so gentle. It wasn’t just the physical touch, but the unspoken invitation—the way you held him in place with nothing but your presence.

As you pulled the towel away, his lips were left lingering with the memory of your touch, and for a moment, he hesitated. But the hesitation didn’t last long. His instinct to close the distance between you overpowered his restraint, and before either of you could think, his lips pressed urgently against yours, claiming you in a kiss that was both desperate and hungry.

The kiss was electric. His hand cupped your face, fingers trembling slightly as he kissed you like he couldn’t catch his breath. You could feel the heat of his desire, but there was also something else—something submissive in how he let you lead. He responded fiercely, yes, but there was an unmistakable trust in how he followed your lead, how he let you guide the rhythm of the kiss, the intensity of it. He didn’t try to dominate; instead, he surrendered to you completely.

Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as if you needed to be closer, as if the kiss was the only way to erase the tension that had been building since the beach. It was messy, heated—your control evident in the way you commanded the kiss, but it was equally filled with urgency, a shared need for release, for connection.

Jungwon’s hands roamed to your back, fingers pressing you against him, but there was a carefulness to his touch. He wasn’t forceful. There was a tenderness, almost like he was waiting for you to take control. He wanted to feel you, wanted to have all of you, but in a way that was patient, as if he was afraid of breaking something in the moment.

You pulled away just briefly, breathless, and your eyes locked with his. There was a flicker of uncertainty in his gaze, but you didn’t let it linger. You tilted your head, studying his face, searching for something—answers, maybe, or perhaps reassurance. You were in control now, and it was clear from the way he looked at you that he would follow wherever you led.

Before you could even process the thought, your hands gripped the front of Jungwon’s shirt, pulling him with you as you leaned back. His breath hitched in surprise, but there was no resistance from him—just a quiet, willing surrender. Without breaking the kiss, you guided him backward, pushing him gently onto the bed with a sense of urgency. The soft creak of the mattress under his weight only fueled the tension between you both, the air thick with the electric pull of desire.

You hovered over him, your body just inches away from his, feeling the heat radiating off him in waves. His hands, which had been holding you so gently, now rested on the bed, palms flat as he watched you with an intensity that mirrored your own. His eyes were dark, full of something raw and unspoken, but he didn’t try to close the distance. He was letting you take control now, his body still beneath you, and you could feel the subtle way he was surrendering to you, leaving himself at your mercy.

The weight of the moment pressed on your chest, but you didn’t break away. Your gaze held his, unwavering, as you let the silence stretch between you, charged with something deeper. You could see it in the way his breath quickened, in the subtle flex of his muscles beneath you as he awaited your next move.

And then, without saying a word, you lowered yourself further, bringing your lips to his once more. This time, there was no hesitation, no second-guessing. The kiss was deep, intense—full of everything you hadn’t said, everything you hadn’t allowed yourself to feel until now. Jungwon’s hands found their way to your back, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t bear to let you go, but even in his need, he let you guide him, letting you set the rhythm, the pace.

You pulled away slightly, your lips lingering just above his, feeling the tension in the air thicken as you gazed down at him. His eyes were half-lidded, chest rising and falling beneath you, but you could still see the sharp edge of something in his gaze. It wasn’t just the intensity of the moment—it was that subtle wariness, the same one you’d seen earlier, when he had saved that woman on the beach.

"You were pretty focused on saving her, weren’t you?” you asked, your voice quieter, but with a teasing edge.

Jungwon let out a soft, almost self-conscious laugh. "I had to. It’s part of the job," he said, his voice still heavy with the remnants of the adrenaline that had coursed through him earlier. He was trying to downplay it, but you saw right through him. "Besides, she was drowning. It’s not like I can just leave her in the water."

"You really looked like you were about to save her from everything," you quipped, arching an eyebrow. "A woman your age, no less. What was that? Was there some kind of... connection?"

Jungwon's eyes flickered, a flash of vulnerability passing through them before he masked it with a half-smile. "Well, you know, it's hard not to connect with someone who’s in trouble." He shifted underneath you, his voice a bit more serious now. "You’re not mad, are you?"

You smiled softly, the weight of the moment returning. "Mad? No. Just trying to get used to the idea of you saving women... right in front of me." You leaned down, your lips brushing his again, slowly this time, savoring the taste of him. You could feel the sharpness in his breath as he leaned into it, his hands gripping your back tighter.

"I guess it’s a good thing I’m saving you now, huh?" Jungwon’s voice was low, almost a whisper, but there was that familiar teasing edge to it, like he was trying to regain some sense of control.

“You're going to save me from what, exactly?” You pulled back slightly, your hands on his chest, feeling the hard press of his muscles beneath your fingertips. Your gaze never left his, unwavering.

Jungwon’s lips quirked into a half-smile, his eyes darkening with something unspoken. "From getting lost in your head," he said, his voice playful but with an undertone of something more serious. "And from overthinking things."

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at that, the traction between you both momentarily easing. "Yeah? I guess you’ve got a lot of practice in saving people, huh?" You leaned down to kiss him again, this time with more purpose, your hands moving to his face, holding him there as you deepened the kiss.

He responded just as fiercely, his hands pulling you closer, his body shifting under yours. But even in his urgency, he still let you take the lead, his grip softening just enough for you to feel the weight of his trust.

As the kiss broke, you both breathed heavily, faces just inches apart, the silence between you charged once again.

"Just don’t get any ideas, Jungwon," you muttered, your lips curling into a sly smile. "I’m the one in control here."

Jungwon’s eyes flashed with something almost mischievous. “Oh, I know,” he murmured, his hands sliding to your waist, tightening briefly before letting go. "I’m all yours."

The words lingered in the air, both playful and charged with a deeper meaning. Your heart raced, a warmth spreading through you as you met his gaze. There was a comfort in the way he held you, in the way he knew exactly how to push and pull you at the same time.

Jungwon’s smile softened, his voice almost a whisper as he leaned in closer, brushing his lips against your ear. “Happy Anniversary, baby.”

You leaned in close, your breath barely a whisper against his skin. “Oh, I give up,” you said with a dramatic sigh, rolling your eyes in mock exasperation. Your fingers lightly traced his chest as you looked up at him with a teasing glint in your eyes. “Do a mouth-to-mouth CPR on me now.”

[part one] [part two] [part four (prequel)]

taglist: @1starqi @imfuckingwhipped @moon0fthenight @jiawji @shawnyle @simja3 @babyboomysweetie @50-husbands @charlizefaye @anudocuments @ooriwoo @sa-brinaaa @luumiinaa @personallyminelol

tell me if you want to be added or removed from the taglist! thanks<33

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etherealval · 6 months ago

Text

— tension relief

pairing: matt sturniolo x reader

warning: suggestive content, kissing & massaging (?)

a/n: thank you guys sm for 100 followers !! i literally started writing just because i was bored and didn’t think people would actually read my stuff ?!?! i love all of you <33

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

you glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, noticing the slight furrow in his brow. it was subtle, but it was there—tension. without thinking too much about it, you shifted a little closer, letting your leg brush against his. "you okay?"

he blinked, turning his head to meet your eyes. "yeah, just a little stiff, i guess. been sitting weird all day." his voice was casual, but there was an underlying strain that told you he was feeling more than a little discomfort.

"do you want me to give a massage?" you asked, your voice soft but teasing, trying to lighten the mood.

his eyes flickered with surprise, and then he let out a low chuckle. "uh, sure, if you’re offering."

"turn around," you instructed, already shifting to kneel behind him on the bed. he hesitated for a moment before moving to sit cross-legged in front of you, his back now facing you. you could feel the anticipation humming between the two of you, the air charged with something unspoken. you placed your hands on his shoulders, gently at first, feeling the tension knotted beneath his skin. his muscles were tight, and you began to slowly work your thumbs into the knots, applying just enough pressure to coax a soft groan out of him. the sound sent a little thrill through you, and you bit your lip, focusing on kneading the tight spots with care.

"that feels… really good," he muttered, his voice slightly hoarse, like the sensation was hitting deeper than he’d expected.

you smiled, encouraged by his reaction. your hands slid lower, down the sides of his neck, your fingers pressing into the curve of his spine. the heat from his skin seeped into your palms, and your touch became slower, more deliberate, each movement lingering just a bit longer than necessary.

your hands drifted lower, brushing against the muscles along his back, tracing the contours of his body in slow, purposeful strokes. you noticed how his breath hitched, how his muscles tightened and relaxed under your touch, and how his entire posture seemed to melt into you. it was more intimate than you'd expected, each press of your fingers drawing out a deeper, softer sound from him. the energy between you had shifted, no longer casual but something heavier, charged.

the movie continued to play in the background, long forgotten. all you could focus on was the steady rise and fall of his breathing and the way your hands danced over his body. the tension you’d first noticed seemed to have transformed into something else, something thicker, more palpable.

you leaned in a little closer, your breath fanning across the back of his neck as your hands slipped lower, brushing over his sides. you could feel him tense beneath your touch, but it wasn’t from discomfort anymore. it was anticipation. your fingers trailed back up, lingering at the nape of his neck, your thumbs tracing slow circles over the sensitive skin there.

he let out a deep sigh, his body finally surrendering to your touch, his head tilting slightly as if he were giving in completely. you couldn’t help but notice how every sound he made, every twitch of his muscles, sent a thrill through you, your pulse quickening as the air between you grew thick with unspoken tension.

“god, that feels amazing,” he murmured, his voice lower, rougher than before. his words sent a ripple of heat through you, and you couldn’t help but smile, feeling a rush of satisfaction at how easily you’d unraveled him.

your hands slid back up to his shoulders, squeezing gently before you leaned in closer, so close now that your chest brushed against his back. your breath was warm against his ear as you spoke, your voice barely a whisper, "want me to keep going?"

he shivered at the sound of your voice, and you felt him nod, unable to form the words. you shifted again, your legs on either side of him now, pulling him back into you slightly as your fingers found the tight muscles in his shoulders once more. this time, though, your movements were slower, more deliberate, your hands tracing the lines of his body with a touch that felt far more intimate than just a massage.

you pressed your thumbs into the tight spots near his neck, feeling the tension melt away underneath your fingers. the room was so quiet, the sound of his breathing and the movie’s faint dialogue the only things breaking the silence. his body leaned into yours, relaxed yet somehow charged with something heavier, more electric.

without thinking, you let your hands slide around to his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips. he tensed again, but this time it was different, the kind of tension that comes with wanting more.

“turn around,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

matt did as you asked, his movements slow and deliberate as he shifted to face you. his eyes were darker than you’d ever seen them, filled with an intensity that made your pulse race. for a moment, neither of you moved, the air between you thick with anticipation. then, without a word, you leaned in and kissed him.

the moment your lips touched his, it was like something snapped between you. the kiss started slow, tentative, but the tension that had been building all evening made it impossible to stay soft for long. his lips moved against yours with increasing urgency, like he’d been holding back and now couldn’t stop himself.

his hands found your waist, fingers gripping tightly as he pulled you closer, your bodies pressed together. the heat of him was overwhelming, his chest rising and falling quickly, breath already ragged as the kiss deepened. your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging gently as you tilted your head, letting the kiss grow hungrier, more intense.

his tongue slipped past your lips, teasing yours in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. every brush, every flick of his tongue made your body buzz with heat. you could feel him responding just as intensely, the way his breathing hitched, the way his hands tightened their grip on you, like he couldn’t get enough.

the kiss wasn’t soft anymore—it was desperate, almost possessive, as if every second apart had built up to this moment. your fingers trailed down the back of his neck, feeling the muscles tense beneath your touch, and you let your hands slide lower, gripping the fabric of his shirt as you pulled him closer.

he groaned into your mouth, a low, rumbling sound that made your heart race. his hands moved from your waist, sliding up your back, pressing you even tighter against him until there was no space left between your bodies. the intensity of the moment made everything else fade away—there was no world outside this, just the feel of his lips on yours, the heat of his skin, and the way every touch seemed to ignite a fire deep inside you.

you could feel his heart pounding against your chest, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts as he broke the kiss for just a second, only to dive back in, more insistent, more demanding. his lips were rough now, urgent, as if he couldn’t stand to be apart from you even for a moment.

your hands slid down to his chest, feeling the muscles tense under your touch, and you pushed him back slightly, just enough to climb into his lap. the movement made him pause for a brief second, his eyes dark and heavy-lidded as he looked at you, breathless, lips swollen from the kiss. the sight of him like that, flushed and wanting, made something inside you twist with need.

you kissed him again, this time slower but no less intense, savoring the way he tasted, the way his hands roamed over your body, exploring every inch he could reach. every touch felt electric, every movement setting off sparks of heat that left you both breathless. when you finally pulled back, your lips still tingling from the intensity, both of you were panting, hearts racing, the air between you thick with everything left unsaid.

"feel better now?" you asked, your voice teasing but breathless, still caught up in the lingering heat between you.

a slow grin spread across his face as he nodded. "yeah.. but i think i might need another one of those massages soon."

taglist - @42angelgirl , @heartsforvin

#etherealval ´ˎ˗#matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt stuniolo fanfic #matt x reader #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo smut

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alaezasmystery235 · 3 months ago

Text

ᯓ★ 𝐇𝒐𝒘 𝐃𝒐 𝐌𝒆𝒏 𝐕𝒊𝒆𝒘 𝐘𝒐𝒖 ★ᯓ 2.5k special ❀

⋆·˚ ----- piles are 1 -> 2 -> 3 , pick one or two but mostly look for the one which you find attracted to or your intuition telling you to. Also do keep in mind it's solely based on how men view you so don't think it defines you as a person rather you r your own !!! YOU DO YOU !!! Also happy 2.5k to us ❀

𝒫𝒾𝓁𝑒 1

Exquisite !!!

That's the very first thing I heard the moment I started channeling !!! They see you as a person who seems to radiate a special kind of charm that draws them in and leaves a lasting impression on them. I am hearing a phrase " they light up my dim heart with bright shining light " so your presence has a way of lighting up a room and lifting the spirits of those around you. Like I am hearing they love when your eyes sparkle seeing anything cute or beautiful , which brings me my attention to the fact there might be a lot of secret admirers or starers who actually notices you ... you knowing or not .

Simply put, you give men this feeling basking in the warm rays of the sun on a perfect summer day.

Want a personalized reading send me a DM

𝒫𝒾𝓁𝑒 2

Dangerous yet soothing !!!

You have men listen to your words . The words you utter gets stuck inside their brain . It nags them from time to time ... like a superglue no matter how much you try it won't come out . Now this can be both positively or negatively... you could have broken some men's heart and they actually couldn't ever wipe off your memories and words ... so there's this lingering energy of them still mixed with you .

I am also getting your demeanor can put some men on edge , sending a subtle warning to be cautious in your presence like being near a volatile substance. Yet , for some your energy is also surprisingly soothing and comforting. You have a calming presence and a way of making one feel safe and secure . The contradiction between your threatening nature and soothing essence creates a paradoxical effect for men .

Want a personalized reading send me a DM

𝒫𝒾𝓁𝑒 3

Boldy gracious..

okkk now this can be either your personality or looks .. I'm getting two different types of meaning ... 1 group for their personality and 2 group for their looks . To men you exude a presence that is simultaneously strong and gracious. You pull them in with your wit / you pit them in a trance with your beauty .

To them you have a commanding aura that demands attention and respect, yet comes across as humble and charming. For some men you confuses them . Because you r not rude ... it surprises them .. shouldn't you jave an attitude ??? They think like this .

Lastly they perceive you as someone who is not afraid to speak your mind and take charge, but also treat others with kindness and consideration.

Want a personalized reading send me a DM

Do give feedbacks how it resonated and all in my Ask plz... thank u and take care ✨️.

#pick a pile reading #pick a card reading #pick a card #pick a pile #future spouse #tarot readings #tarot reading #tarotcommunity #tarot blog #tarotblr #channeled message #tarot community #free tarot reading #divination

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sungiescheotluv · 1 month ago

Text

mirror muscles ⭑.ᐟ na jaemin

pairing: na jaemin x gender neutral reader

word count: 2.7k

tags/warnings: fluff, established relationship, suggestive, gym talk(?)

summary: doing your new resolutions with jaemin has always worked in your favor, most goals ticked off your lists. however, when you mention going to gym, jaemin's enthusiasm reaches new heights.

notes: hiyaaaa! it feels like forever since i last posted (two days omg 🙄) but i do hope you pretty stars enjoy this very indulgent fic! as an aspiring gym girlie, i'd do anything for this kind of princess treatment (particularly from jaemin 😋) also, the title of this is based on the soft play song with the same name (emo jisung, lemme give u some music recs). ok, i think i'm done here. wishing u all the best, much loveeee! <3

Note to self: never, under any circumstances, tell Jaemin your New Year’s resolution. Because one peek at your ambitious list and Jaemin will pry you from your warm bed, at the ass crack of dawn (might you add) to go to the gym because ‘nothing beats a morning pump.’

If you weren’t stupidly in love with him, you would’ve dropped a dumbbell on his toe.

How you get to this point is a lot more wholesome. Since the start of your relationship, once snow trickles down for Christmas, you two sit at your dining table with your laptops opened on Pinterest and pin-point what goals you'd like to achieve the following year. This way, you’re not shouldering your ambitions alone, having each other every step of the year as you tick off box after box. So far, you’ve managed to complete most of your goals. Go traveling, learn a new language, cook more home-cooked meals, limit screen time (still working on that) and many more. Jaemin was also progressing well: dedicating more time in his photography, reducing his coffee intake, going to bed earlier and visiting his mother more.

For this year’s moodboard, while collecting pictures of your next set of goals, fitness content shows up in your recommendations. People in pilates studios in their pastel pink gym-sets. The aesthetic draws you in, how content people feel moving their body besides getting their 10k steps a day in. More photos start showing up, people sculpting their pride in the gym, sharing personal stories of their fitness journey and how the gym has taught them so much about themselves. What they’re capable of, what they never thought they could do and what opportunities lie await now that they’re happier in themselves. It all seems promising, even more so when you reconsider how bright your best friend’s life’s become since making the choice. She’d rarely accompany you to a game of badminton and now she’s pioneering her own run-club, amassing a social media following the size of an army.

You’d have to ask her how to get started once she’s back from her influencer trip (maybe content creating is something you needed to hop on). Then again, peering over your laptop screen to Jaemin’s glowing face, you could simply ask him. He’s been consistently going to the gym for a while now, to the point where you fake-pleaded for SM to close their gym because your boyfriend's become too buff for you to function. He’s always been gorgeous, with a face that could charm a snake, but now that he’s carved like a Renaissance sculpture, you couldn’t form a coherent sentence around him. Of course, aesthetic reasons are what lured him into the space, but he relays it’s become a lot more than that for him.

“I want to be strong, not only to build my confidence but to also protect my loved ones,” he looks directly at you, a serious hue to his eyes. “It’s another form of self-love. Showing up for myself, proving I can do hard things, even when I don’t want to. That I can step out of my comfort zone, try new things and ultimately, live a longer life. Because at the end of the day, as much as I do this for me, I also do it so I can help you carry groceries. So that I can move furniture around when we move in together, be the one that my family calls if they need something physically demanding done,”

Fondness curves his lips, a flicker of timidity dart his eyes down to the desk before they flicker back up at you, astoundingly earnest as he says, “I’d also want to keep up with our kids. Carry them when they’re tired or run after them in a park. Those are my reasons.”

Something stutters in your chest. Then, leaps. Over the course of your three year relationship, it’s only natural that topics like this are mentioned, like marriage and children. Heck, you two shared a Pinterest board of decor ideas for the shared apartment you’d been on the lookout for. So, it shouldn't phase you but it does. How far into the future he sees with you. How he shares a bit of himself so effortlessly, in a way that lacks pressure and possesses good faith. Love and promise. All prominent themes throughout your relationship, one you thank your lucky stars for.

As a consequence, you flush. Folding like the early days of your relationships. “You’re getting bold these days. We haven’t even moved in together.”

“All in good time, angel,” he grins, looking a bit lovesick. “In any case, if this is something you wanna do, I’d be more than happy to help. Go to the gym with you so you don’t feel anxious, show you how to use the machines, get you workout clothes - whatever you want.”

You could marry this man.

You extend your arm across the wooden table, hand finding his as your fingers interlace, the same song and dance you’d hope you’d spend your life doing. “Thanks, baby.”

And now? Now, divorce weighs heavily on your mind.

In an effort to avoid the New Year’s crowd, Jaemin wakes you up early in the slum of days after Christmas where time doesn’t exist, cuddling into your half-sleeping figure with a gentle voice. Coaxes you to get up, slip on the new gym clothes you’d spent on his card (his treat, he said) and somehow, here you are, stinging eyes squinting under fluorescent lights with some EDM track playing faintly in the background.

“Oh, baby. Don’t look so down, you’re in good hands,” Jaemin coos, hand squishing your cheeks under your chin before pulling you into his chest, warm and comforting. “I’ll take care of you.”

“Couldn’t this wait until,” you glance at your fitness tracker, your own treat to yourself. “Midday? No one needs to be here at 9 am.”

“Maybe, but it’s a good way to start your day. Or get it out of the way,” he chuckles, spinning you out his arms before he wiggles his eyebrows. “Plus, who doesn’t want to see my muscles first thing in the morning?”

He drives home his point by kissing his bicep, something that should make you cringe out your skin or disappear without a trace, but no. Perhaps you’re still sleepy, shielding a snicker with your hand because of how lame (said adoringly) he is.

“You said you’d usually start off with thirty minutes on the treadmill, right?” You nod your head. “Okay, I’ll go with you. I’ll run for fifteen and row until you're done. So you don’t constantly have me in your ear.”

You laugh, because as grumpy as you’d been on the way here, you could never grow tired of him. All his carefree and mischief nature, his sweet and generous manner - you couldn’t even if you tried.

Few people populate the modern gym, near to none in the cardio section as Jaemin refreshes your memory on all the buttons before you begin. Beside you, he does sporadic sprints, no heavy breaths clouding his chatter with you. You, on the other hand, keep it relatively reserved for your first time, upping the speed when you want to challenge yourself, surprising yourself with the distance and time that flies by. Soon enough, Jaemin’s squeezing your hand and moving a few rows back where the rowing machines are, leaving you with your walking playlist.

Again, in a flash, time passes by, upbeat songs blaring in your headphones that make you dance through the next fifteen minutes, a simmer of sadness coming when you’ve reached time with a whole host of songs still in the queue.

“You can listen to them next time,” Jaemin winks before leading you into a dark, LED room dotted with mirrors and yoga mats. This is one of the rooms booked for classes, but for now, it’s your stretching area where you cycle through some stretches and Jaemin jokes about folding you like a pretzel.

The one other person in the room - a woman in her thirties - coughs, before smirking your way, the heat of your embarrassment migrating to your cheeks as you swat at Jaemin. He simply laughs, stretching to reveal his happy trail and suddenly, you forget why you’re even mad.

When you’re finished, he shows you different sections - an assortment of cable machines, the weights area and then to an area with more machines. There’s a few people occupying the machines, immersed in their own world with flushed cheeks and sweat seeping into their clothes. It fills you with relief, that no one’s focused on you and your sweating figure as if you had ‘gym newbie’ written across your forehead. Jaemin shows you some of the machines he uses, depending on what he wants to work out but for the most part, lets you decide what machines you’d want to use - if any.

“Why do I need to put on muscle? You putting me in a headlock is good enough.” You fake-complain, feeding off the gentle approach Jaemin’s taken in trying to convert you to a gym rat.

“And you say I’m the dirty one,” he tsks with a matching grin. “You don’t need to do anything. All I’m doing is showing you the options you have. The more things you try, the more likely you’ll find something you lik-”

“Is that the slut machine?”

Jaemin’s head jerks back, eyebrows pinching together in confusion. “What are you talking about?’

“This one,” you approach the machine closeby, pointing to the photo attached along with its actual name - hip adduction. “Isn’t this the one where people like, open their legs like crazy?”

Jaemin shakes his head, amusement in the smile he swipes with his hand. “Yes, it is. Wanna give it a go?”

“Hell yeah,” you climb into the machine in a rush, finding the experience more exciting than scary as Jaemin makes sure everything is in order. “This is gonna be hilarious.”

“I’m setting it to a low weight. If it’s too easy, we’ll move it upwards and try and find your range,” he comments, looking at you through his silver hair. “You ready?”

“Ready,” and you go, the weight moving like nothing, so much so that when it sets back to its original position, you’re more caught off guard by how far apart your legs are spread. “This is so raunchy, ohmygod.”

“Good thing it’s facing the wall,” Jaemin laughs at you shielding in between your legs. He ups the weight, the number looking a lot scarier than anticipated. “Let’s try this then. You should be able to rep 10 of these.”

You shuffle, a bit unconvinced. Taking a breath, you engage the machine, exerting more effort than before but managing to do one rep. Then two, then three all the way up to ten. Enough to challenge you, but not strain you.

Jaemin howls, pinching your cheek as he says, “Look at you go! That was great.”

“Thank you,” you huff, the tingle in your thighs somehow the source of the happiness in your chest. “That was really fun, actually.”

“Isn’t it?” Jaemin smiles, using some paper towel to wipe after the machine for you. “Usually people do about three sets of those. Reps depend on what you want to do - build endurance, muscle strength, all that. But that was really great, I’m so proud of you.”

And you feel proud of yourself too. Having tried something new, feeling unsure but leaning into the feeling. Letting yourself see how far you can extend yourself, pleasantly surprised with the distance.

So, this was what Jaemin was on about.

You continue your morning like this, getting a personalised tutoring session in how certain machines works and what areas they work out. Jaemin runs through his leg day, since you two were on the hip adduction machine, enjoying more exercises like leg press and goblet squats. By the time you get to the hip thrust machine to try, someone’s occupying it. Jaemin suggests using the squat rack, the scary thing with a long barbell and weights attached to it. Sensing your apprehension, Jaemin lets you know he’s got you, coaching you through the exercise and any queries you may have about movement or positioning. Eventually, it’s your turn to lean against the incline bench and despite your fear, you work your way through 8 hip thrusts. You don’t nearly enjoy it as much as people online talk about it, which Jaemin says,

“That’s perfectly fine. There’s so many exercises that work the same areas. You’ll find one you prefer.”

Finished for your session, Jaemin asks for you to hold tight while he does some deadlifts. It’s maddening watching him pick up such heavy weights, concentration knitting his eyebrows together with his exposed arms flexing under the tension. Wearing a sleeveless top for the gym in theory is great, but for your mental health? Bad, so bad.

Because even if your body rings with exhaustion, the kind that’s refreshing and ensures a peaceful slumber, you’re about ready to jump his bone.

Ill with lust, as you’d joke.

Jaemin snickers, snapping his waist belt off with one hand, which shouldn’t be sexy but is. Your eyes then trail to the barbell, the memory of Jaemin’s set vivid in your mind.

“Did you wanna try it?” Jaemin asks, reading your mind. “We can start off with no weights. Just the barbell. There’s also different variations of a deadlift, let’s see which one you prefer.”

Out of the three, you pick the most conventional one to start with, teeth sinking into your bottom lip at what you’ve gotten yourself into. Particularly after Jaemin loads weights on each end when you've rehearsed with the barbell.

“Think of the barbell cutting your feet in half - not standing too close so that your shins are touching it and not too far away that you have to lean to grab it,” Jaemin coaches, your feet shuffling into the right position. “Nice. Let’s move onto the hinge movement,”

From behind you, his hands settle onto your hips, pulling them back with him. He pats them, a chuckle left in his wake as he steps to your side to demonstrate without overly being horny.

Bastard.

“Like you just did, you’ve gotta hinge your hips backwards until you can’t hinge anymore. Then, you’ll move a little into your knees, like a squat almost so you can grab the barbell,” you follow along, the barbell cold against your hands as you blow a breath.

“Great. Keep your body tense, engage your core and glutes. No arch,” his hand hovers over the arch of your back, something teasing in his smile. “Show your chest, keep your head up straight and lift the barbell up. Remember to keep it close to your body before you lower it down with the same hinge movement and movement into your knees.”

You puff out another breath, the same fear you’ve conquered throughout the session whirring in your chest.

“Don’t worry, angel,” Jaemin smiles, moving behind you again with hovered hands around your figure. “I’ve got you. You’ve got you.”

Again, his words dawn on you. All the power in your hands, a feeling your heart wants nothing more than to run towards as you lift up the barbell, strength personified as you wait at the top of your stance, smiling at the “Let’s fucking go, you’re doing it! You’re doing it, angel!” in your ear. You hinge backwards, the weight knocked down to the floor with no tension on your back as expected.

Once you’re upright again, Jaemin engulfs you in a backhug, lifting your figure off the floor and kissing your neck, drawing giggles out of you. Joy moves through your body like warm light at his excitement that exceeds your own, belief not setting in quite yet.

“I can’t believe you,” he coos, the mirror ahead of you capturing the embrace he holds you in, the elation in his eyes as he does nothing but adore you. Like he’s always done. “Actually, I can. You’ve got a laundry list of things you’re good at. Can you believe it?”

“Not originally,” you admit, the confession somewhat bittersweet. “But after this, I think I’d better have more faith in myself.”

Fondness finds itself in his lips again, a kiss against your cheek as he gently guides you out the way, lifting the barbell onto the rack with his gaze in the mirror directed to yours.

“Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

And you fall into laughter, helping him slid off the weights before flexing in the mirror like you wanted, finding a different strength in yourself with Jaemin by your side.

#nct dream fic #jaemin x reader #nct jaemin #na jaemin #nct dream fics #na jaemin x reader #nct dream #nct dream x reader #nct dream fanfic #nct dream fluff #na jaemin fluff #na jaemin imagines #na jaemin x you #jaemin fluff #jaemin imagines #jaemin x you #nct jaemin x reader #sungiescheotluv fics ૮꒰ ྀི >⸝⸝⸝< ྀི꒱

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nerdygirlramblings · 27 days ago

Note

Hello! Ive been binging poly!141 and I keep coming back to your writing for my fix (because by now its basically an addiction😅)

I had this idea that the 141 are together with a civilian reader. And civilian reader works in retail, part time, and is mostly at home. Normally, they would be home by the time their boys came home, welcoming them with open arms, a hot plate of food, and time to rest and relax. But this time, the 141 get home early and realize where reader works: Walmart (or equivalent). Reader has been keeping this a secret cause they know its not cute like a coffee shop or cool. Its just their job. And now the most important men in their life know. Im thinking the 141 found out because they went grocery shopping and happened to come across reader or something similar to that.

I work at Walmart and it sucks🥲 thought that maybe something like this might help😅

Tysm, nonny! So happy to hear you like the writing. I hope this does your idea justice. (Walmart doesn't have stores in the UK, but they own ASDA.)

Also, thank you for my first request! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

pure fluff, bad accents (per usual)

Your boys find out you work part-time at ASDA on a random rainy Thursday in March.

You don't really need a job. All four of your lovers are officers with the British army. Prior to you, they all lived in base barracks. Prior to you, they lived fairly Spartan existences. Prior to you, most of their income sat in the bank, quietly accumulating.

They have plenty of money saved up that they love using to spoil you, when you let them. You know that if you asked, they'd give you everything, but you draw the line about asking them for an allowance like some tradwife. You want some pocket money of your own. Thus, the part-time job at the ASDA in town.

You're a people person, good at handling big personalities. You need to be to keep up with your boys. Between John's need for control, Simon's stoic dominance, Johnny's aggressive enthusiasm, and Kyle's blinding charisma, you aren't some shrinking violet. Within a week of your hire, your manager watches how you weather a nasty piece of work trying to demand concessions you aren't permitted to give and immediately puts you in customer service.

You're nearly unflappable in the face of frustrated pensioners and harried parents and entitled young professionals. Over and over, you're the one they call when a customer is going spare. Which is how your boys find out about your job.

They've been deployed for over two weeks, and you have no idea when they'll return. John had originally said they'd be gone for at least a month, so you aren't expecting them home any time soon. However, they'd come home much earlier than anyone thought, and they wanted to surprise you.

You're always so good about making the house feel like a home, with your bright smile and warm laughter, your home cooked food and soft touches in decor. You make them feel like people, not weapons, and they want to return the favor. This last deployment had been hard, and all four of your boys were missing your sweet voice and tender care. They wanted to show you that they loved and cared for you the way you always showed your love and care for them.

It was Johnny's suggestion to prep a meal for you as both a surprise and a thank you. After debrief, they pile into the car and decide to stop at ASDA for everything they need before heading home to surprise you. It's John who causes the code call.

You hear Susan's voice over the store-wide address system. "We could use a little Sunshine in the floral department." That's your cue. You finish with the pensioner at your till as Jacob, your manager, comes over to relieve you.

You take a deep breath and square your shoulders. In your experience, a Sunshine call in floral is a man angry the store doesn't have the fancy arrangements listed on the website. You wish the signage on the site would be more clear that the beautiful bouquets are online orders only. It would save you having to explain why the offers in store are so limited.

You hear him before you see him, smokey voice grumbling, "But if they show the bloody thing on the site as available, you should have it hear." You'd recognize the voice anywhere. He's not angry, not really, but Susan doesn't know that. Add in the sheer size of him, and Simon looming over his shoulder, it's no wonder she called for support.

You have never wanted to walk away from a situation as much as you want to right now, but before you can make an escape, Susan notices you over John's shoulder. Her little wave is enough for your men to notice, and they turn as one to see you coming towards them. Immediately their demeanor shifts. Simon's back sags as though his strings were cut, leaving him loose-limbed. John stands a little straighter, chin up as if to impress you. They've both broken out in smiles, though Simon's are only evidenced by the laugh lines you know to look for. It's only as you get close do they zero in on the badge on your shirt.

"I've got this, Susan," you say to your co-worker. "Jacob's on my till. Can you cover?"

Susan wrings her hands. "Are you sure you don't want me to stay and-"

"They're nothing I can't handle," you tell her, cutting off her worried rambles. There's a cheeky glint in your eye as you flick your gaze at your men. You clap your hands together and say, "Right, let's get this settled, then."

Susan takes one quick look between you and the now slightly less intimidating men and heads towards the front of the store.

Once she's out of earshot, John's face breaks into a frown. "What're you doing here, love?" He glances at your name on your chest again. "You work here?" He sounds almost hurt by the revelation. You can tell Simon wants to reach for you, and the only thing stopping him is you working.

You hear heavy footfalls behind you as Johnny's Scottish lilt reaches your ears. "Och, Cap! Ye said ye'd only be a moment. Gaz and I had a hell of a time getting the trolley on its lift ta find ye. How hard is it to buy bon..." His question dies on his lips as you turn around. "Bonnie?" He, too, sounds hurt to find you working here.

You can see Kyle over Johnny's shoulder, confusion written across his features. This is not how you wanted your boys to find out about your job, if you ever wanted them to actually find out. You thought maybe you'd surprise them with tickets to Hereford FC's opening game in a few months. And if they asked how you afforded them, you could handle this conversation then, but it's out of your hands now.

And as much as you don't want to have this conversation, especially not in the middle of the floral department, you can't stop the wide grin at seeing your boys again, home and whole.

"Hi, boys," you say, opening your arms. Disappointed he might be about finding you here, Johnny's no fool. He immediately steps into your embrace, and the others quickly follow suit. You're swallowed up by the smell and feel of them. The hug lasts one minute. Then two. Then they all slowly step back.

You can see the questions and cut them off before they get started. "I have another three hours before I'm off. We can talk at home, and I'll tell you anything you want to know."

John nods first. He recognizes your tone. You won't let them derail you for answers now, and they would be wasting their breath to try. "You heard the lady, lads. Let's get home."

They start to walk away when you tease, "Captain? Was there a reason you were arguing with Susan about the flowers?"

He halts his steps and turns to you, flush creeping up his neck. He brings his hand up to rub it as he says, "Er, I, we, wanted to get ya something nice, but they don't have the same ones as online."

You melt a little, watching the way your men shift nervously behind their captain. You smile softly and reach over, plucking a bouquet of rainbow poms from the rack. "These are what I usually get for myself when you're away."

John takes them gently from your hand and passes them to Gaz to put in the trolley. "We'll see you at home, love," he murmurs, leaning over briefly to kiss your cheek. Simon kisses the top of your head, fabric brushing your hair. Johnny pulls you in for another bruising hug and kisses your other cheek. Gaz puts his hands on your waist, drinking in the sight of you, before taking your hands in his and kissing your palms.

You watch them leave, wondering how you'll make it through the rest of your shift.

Three hours and fifteen minutes later, you cross the threshold of your shared home to the most delicious scents wafting from the kitchen. After slipping your shoes off next to the piles of boots at the door, you follow your nose back to the kitchen and the spread laid out on the large wood-topped island. There's a roast and mushy peas and mashed potatoes and stewed carrots and battered cod and crisps and spinach all surrounding the flowers you'd suggested, nestled in the vase you love most, the Caithness one Johnny'd bought you on your first trip with them to Scotland.

At the table, your men sit, plates made for everyone, waiting on you. They've changed since you saw them. Gone are any traces of fatigues and tactical gear. Instead they're all in casual civvies, truly home for the first time in nearly three weeks. Simon stands as you come in and pulls out your chair, smile on his scarred lips. "Come sit, doll," he tells you, not quite an order.

You look quickly around. "Let me change," you say, tugging at your uniform top. "I won't be but a minute." You back out of the room before they can stop you. You hurry to your bedroom, pulling your top off as you go. Once behind the door, you slip from your trousers into comfortable leggings and a large jumper, one of Kyle's you think.

By the time you make it back to the kitchen, your men are more than a little antsy. Simon's smile is a little strained, Johnny is fidgeting, Kyle keeps glancing between you and John, and John is staring at you. Your chair is still out. He waves a hand at it, and gently says, "Come sit, love." It's couched as request, but you know a command from your lover when you hear it.

You take your seat at the table. "Listen-" you start, but John cuts you off.

"Are we not providing for ya, love?" You see the hurt in his eyes, how much it bothers him to think he, they, aren't doing enough for you.

"Oh, John, dear, no!" you reply, putting your hand over his on the table. "It's not that at all."

"Then what?" Simon asks.

You look at them all, the expectant faces waiting to hear how they failed you. "I get restless sometimes. I love you, and I love our life. I'm happy to take care of the house and make sure you're all fed after a long day. But I wasn't built for sitting around doing nothing. I like people; being home on my own all day can get lonely. Especially when you're deployed. I also like having my own pocket money."

John opens his mouth, and you know what he's about to say, so you continue. "I know you'd give me any money I need or want, but I like having my money. Money I earned myself." You look around at them, willing them to understand. "It's only part time. Helps me keep a little busy and have a little extra to spoil you and me with."

Johnny is frowning, but you see Kyle, head cocked, looking at you as a puzzle. "I think I understand," he says softly. "You were making you way just fine before us, and you gave up everything for us."

At his words, the crease between John's brow deepens, and you're sure he's remembering the job you had, that you'd somewhat enjoyed, when you'd first met them. You'd been working at RAF Lakenheath, living in a cozy flat in Cambridge, near The Backs, when the 141 had been coming through the base after an op. An injury had put Kyle in the med center for a week, and while he could have been transported to Hereford once stable, Laswell had worked it out for the whole team to have some R&R near the base.

You'd quite literally run into John one day, rushing to your office, after which he suggested lunch as an apology. You quickly became close with all four, smitten with them from the start. In turn, they fell hard for you. They wooed you over the course of several weeks, stopping through Lakenheath on deployments to spend some time with you. Six months in and you were completely gone on all four of them, so when they'd asked you to move to Hereford, you did without ever looking back. But it meant giving up the life you'd led.

Somewhere along the way, your happiness overshadowed all you'd left behind. After a few weeks, being home alone while your men worked started to feel isolating. You liked being a little busy, and there weren't enough projects around the house to keep you busy enough. You'd always been independent, but you didn't want to be stuck in a job with long hours anymore. You wanted to be home for your men. So you'd found the job at ASDA.

Kyle reaches over to where you hand is still on John's. "I'm sorry we didn't ask how you were coping us being gone all day," he says. He looks you in the eye as he continues. "I understand wanting to do something, wanting to be a little busy, and if this makes you happy, then I'm all for it, doll." He gives you a small smile and squeezes your and John's hand.

"Gaz is right," Simon rumbles. "We were so happy to have you here we didn't think about what you did all alone all day." He puts a heavy hand on your thigh, the warmth of him seeping through your thin leggings. "'m glad you have something to keep you from getting lonely."

"Sorry, hen," Johnny murmurs, just above a whisper. "We didnae think a' ye enough." You smile widely at him.

"Johnny, you think of me all the time. This isn't about neglect at all!" You try to catch his eye, but he's looking hard at the table in front of him. "You did nothing wrong, love," you tell him gently.

He looks at you, blue eyes bright. "Ye sure?" You've never seen him this nervous before, and you break a little.

"I'm sure love."

He smiles then, a little smile, but it brightens his face and shifts the mood in the room. You look at John who's been surprisingly quiet this whole time.

He's smiling, but it's a little sad. "I know ya said we didn't do anything wrong, but we feel like we did. We didn't notice you were bored, didn't ask if you were lonely." He flips his hand over under yours and threads your fingers with his. "Yer giving us a gift by not blaming us, and we'd be stupid not to take it, even though it feels like yer giving us an out. Thank you." He brings your hand to his lips and kisses it softly.

"Thank you. I was worried you'd be mad," you admit.

"Never could make us mad with something like this, hen," Johnny reassures you. "I'm sorry we had to spoil your day is all."

You turn back to look at the food on the island. "You didn't spoil my day. You made it. You're home early, and you made such a lovely spread. I think we should tuck in, yeah?"

Simon chuckles. "Point made, doll," he says, scooping a heaping helping of mash onto his fork. The rest take it as a sign to start eating too.

The room is silent save for the sounds of food savored until John pipes up, "Why'd ya come to florals, love? We might have missed ya altogether if not for that."

You giggle. "The sunshine call, John."

"Yeah?" He clearly doesn't understand.

"It's the shop call for a difficult customer. When I'm on shift, it's my job to handle those." You look at each of your lovers in turn. "Seems I've got a knack for dealing with muppets," you tell them with a smirk.

#nerdygirl answers #cod #poly!141 #poly!141 x reader #tf 141 #tf 141 x reader #kyle garrick #johnny mactavish #john price #simon riley #nerdygirl says

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valsverse · 5 months ago

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﹙💭﹚ 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖼𝗒 𝗃𝖺𝖼𝗄𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝖺𝖿𝖿𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝖺𝖽 𝖽𝖺𝗒𝗌? 𝗁𝖾'𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗒. 𝗁𝖾'𝗌 𝗇𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗅𝗒 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗎𝖿𝖿𝖾𝗋𝖺𝖻𝗅𝖾.

you can sense him before he even walks in, a familiar presence that warms the space around you. his smile is faint, like he’s trying to show you he’s happy to see you but can’t quite hold it together.

“can i…?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper as he sinks down beside you. the way he leans into your side is both desperate and sweet, as if he’s trying to melt into you, wanting nothing more than to be as close to you as possible.

“of course,” you reply softly, draping an arm around him. it’s a simple gesture, but it draws him in, melting away some of that heavy gloom. he nuzzles closer, his head tucked under your chin, and you can feel the weight of his world pressing against you.

“why are you so clingy today?” you tease gently, running your fingers through his messy hair.

“shut up,” he mumbles, a hint of a pout gracing his lips. “i just want to be near you, okay?” his voice is muffled against your shirt as he playfully tugs at the hem, fingers brushing against the lace, a small smile peeking through his frustration.

you can’t help but chuckle because, as clingy as he is, there’s something undeniably endearing about how he seeks comfort in you. you plant a soft kiss on his forehead, and he sighs contentedly, eyes fluttering shut for just a moment. then, with a slight grin, he wipes the dampness off on your shirt, rubbing his forehead against the fabric, and you roll your eyes, trying to hide your amusement.

and yet, his clinginess isn’t just about needing comfort. on days like this, he’s a whirlwind of contradictions. one moment, he’s silent, drifting off in thought, and the next, he’s playfully poking at your sides, a cheeky grin lighting up his face as he tries to coax a laugh out of you. “come on, don’t be boring!”

“percy, you’re the one who’s being insufferable,” you laugh, trying to wriggle away, but he huffs in playful indignation, easily pulling you back into his warm embrace. he mimics your whines, the sound making you giggle despite yourself.

you can’t help but smile, because even when he’s overwhelming, you know it’s just his way of asking for help. so you stay there, tangled together, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against yours.

“just hold me for a bit, okay?” he murmurs, his voice softer now, eyes fluttering closed as he sinks deeper into you.

#percy jackson x reader #percy jackson #percy jackson x you #heroes of olympus #percy jackson x y/n #heroes of olympus x reader #hoo #hoo x reader #pjo x reader #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo #x reader #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson x yn #percy jackson fluff #pjo imagine #riordanverse x reader

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ceesimz · 2 months ago

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Highs and Lows

Your past is your past, but your future is hers. (angst -> fluff)

After everything you’d been through in the past, you always thought you would end up alone. Every failed relationship was another sucker punch to your heart, causing cracks that allowed doubts and insecurities to leak through into your mind, forming iced walls to your soul no one could melt to get to you.

“Perdoni? Vinc a buscar el meu vestit.”

Her voice was so warm, so polite, when she first spoke. How her accent wrapped around her mother tongue was smooth and welcoming, like it didn’t matter that you were about to disappoint her upon first greeting.

“I’m sorry, I don’t speak Catalan.”

She met you with a forgiving smile, shaking her head and waving her hand to brush off your apology.

“Está bien. Uh, my… my suit? I pick it up?”

The suit wasn't ready for pickup at that time, a mixup between you and the owner of the small tailor shop you worked at who had seemingly gotten a bit too festive the night before and forgotten to do the schedule for the day. So she stayed and chatted with you as you did it, which was actually very helpful since she could try on her blazer that needed the most work doing, though it was more her asking you questions and you giving her curt responses than an actual, normal conversation. You couldn't help it, it had become second nature to you at this point. People had betrayed your trust in all kinds of ways before, and it was sure to happen again.

It was Christmas Eve when you met her, but it took some time before you really let her in.

“So, I ask you, will you be my Valentine?”

That day, the thirteenth of February, when she'd come in with a dress that needed adjusting slightly for her sister, she was a woman on a mission. Alexia wasn't used to people shutting her down when she had her mind set on something, and since you were the first to tell her otherwise, she knew you were the one.

“How many times do I have to tell you I won't go on a date with you? I'm not looking for relationships or even friendships right now.”

She was kind. Compassionate. Every time she spoke, you couldn’t help but hang on to every word she said. That didn’t mean you were falling for her tricks though. Your walls were up, and they were high. You didn’t know a thing about her, and her you, but she was like a dog with a bone. Sometimes, you feared she had bad intentions with it. That’s the kind of roads your mind took you on.

“Okay, no Valentine. But, coffee? Conmigo?”

Why was she so adamant to get to know you? Just some nobody that worked at a tailor shop, spending hours on the nights you couldn’t sleep drawing and designing all kinds of clothes that’d never see the light of day outside your notebook. Judging by how she dressed, she was definitely comfortable financially, at least. She had good taste, and dressed in a way that exemplified her mindset and who she wanted to be. With every smart coat and fresh out-of-the-box pair of trainers she wore, you felt like you got a peek inside her mind each time you saw her. Then there was you, dressed down and comfortable for a day sat in front of a sewing machine and a desk.

“I told you, I don’t want to.”

Alexia remembered vividly the day she first heard you laugh. The sound of it made her laugh too, not because she found it funny, but because she got such a burst of euphoria out of it that it was her body’s natural instinct to react like that. All day and every night, you were on her mind. And, something that was completely out of character for her, she found herself looking for excuses to come to the tailor shop just to see you.

“Hm. People do not say no to me. I will keep trying, lo prometo.”

A tap on the counter, and she left after that.

As you expected, she kept to her word; the next day, she brought the coffee to you. Four coffees, actually. One without milk, one with normal milk, one with almond milk, and one with oat milk, just so she could find out what was your favourite.

“I don’t drink coffee. Of any kind, with any milk.”

That was the day you laughed for the first time, you couldn’t help it, the way her face fell after you revealed your secret was way too funny to not laugh. She feigned disapproval when you went into the backroom, grabbed a sharpie and a square of cardboard, and wrote ‘free coffee with every pickup!’ on it to put on the counter.

Though, you came to a realisation that day, one that kept you up through the night. She was the first person in years that actually stayed true to their promise. So maybe you did crack a little then, and when she walked in the next day to collect what she’d left the previous morning, you handed her the cardboard with your number on the back. Hardly two minutes passed after she left before your phone pinged.

For a few days, instead of her coming to you as you learned she was travelling for work, the pair of you exchanged texts. All day long. Sometimes, all night long too. There was just… something about her that pulled you in. You were tired of resisting that.

“So I see you tomorrow? I will pick you up. With, with flowers! Hasta mañana, cariño!”

The excitement that radiated off of her as she scurried out of the shop, late for work, after you caved and took her up on her offer for dinner together was addictive. Her smile was a beautiful one, you’d come to realise, and you wanted to see it everyday whenever you could. Someone hadn’t shown this amount of interest you in… ever. You had hoped it’d be different this time around- surely she wouldn’t disappoint you like everyone else, you’d think.

There was a brightly coloured bouquet in her arms when she met out outside the shop when your shift had finished. By that point, you’d known her for a number of months now, and as you ate dinner and talked, laughed, smiled, with her that evening over some of the best tapas you’d ever had, you felt bad that she had to wait so long.

You decided, there and then, you were going to be more proactive about your feelings which had been there since the first day she walked in. Repressing them was only preventing you from exploring something that could be your whole future.

“I… I really want to kiss you goodnight. Can I kiss you?”

Never did you think that the beautiful blonde woman who showed up on a cloudy Sunday morning would be the one to make you break all the rules you’d made for yourself. They weren’t rules, really. They were insecurities you told yourself were rules, because you believed them so wholeheartedly that you never thought they’d be snapped in half by someone like her. Someone that started buying oversized clothes, trousers that were too long or suits with sleeves too loose for her liking, just so she could see you.

“You can kiss me goodnight, Ale.”

Takes one small mistake for a good thing to be ruined.

You didn’t know exactly what she did for work. You knew she worked in the sports industry, but that was it. You never really asked in detail what she did, you didn’t want to talk about your job so when she said the same thing, who were you to deny her of that?

So, imagine your surprise, when you’re at your friend’s house, only to see Alexia on the TV, bowing in a stadium of almost one hundred thousand spectators that chanted her name. Alexia, the slightly shy and quietly confident woman that took any excuse to meet up with you, was someone else entirely.

“My job… it’s not that important. There are more, ah, interesting topics to talk about.”

That wasn’t the truth. She had lied to you, about her job, about who she really was.

Even in the four walls of your friend’s home, the sheer amount of people began to make you feel overwhelmed. You’d never seen that many people in your life, nevermind in one place. But Alexia? It was just any other day at work, obviously. For you, it was just another day where someone you trusted turned around and betrayed you.

The night before, she kissed you for the first time. It was something you couldn’t ever forget, and the resentment towards yourself began to set in as you sat there on the sofa, watching this stranger run up and down the grass pitch, you far from her mind. From the colours she wore that matched the ones by the winning team by the scoreline in the top corner, she was doing well. And you were happy for her.

You didn’t know a thing about football, and that was yet another thing to add to the list of differences between you both. Alexia, confident, controlled in everything she does, determined. You, lost in your life, lost in yourself, and unmotivated.

“Can’t be worse than mine, right?”

That night, after you went home, hands shaking and chest heaving with short, panicked breaths as you walked, you turned your phone off. You didn’t want to hear from her, and you knew she would text you before she went to sleep.

When you got into bed, you didn’t feel a thing. You lay on your back, eyes unmoving from the ceiling above, and simply sighed. All those months ago, you knew you should have stuck to your rules. Getting close to her and letting her in was the reason why you were hurting now, it was all your fault that you were left like this.

Yet, you didn’t feel a thing, in the end, you were just… numb.

“Why did it take you so long to go on a date with me?”

This was something you were used to now, a dance you knew every step to. The end result was different, however, because it had happened so often that it never surprised you anymore. It had just been a matter of time.

No tears were shed, no anger was held, there was nothing but emptiness. Every second since that first meeting on Christmas Eve had been taken up by Alexia, whether that was her physical presence in front of you or the daydreams in your mind. Now, there was only regret, as you thought over every moment with her. The feel of how her hand felt in yours was substituted with coldness, the same chill that encased your heart again. The taste of her lips, how soft they felt against yours, was something you got to experience once. This aftermath was worth that. Nothing could ever compare to it.

“I… I have a past. I don’t want history to repeat itself. I guess I was just… scared.”

It was foolish to have admitted that to her. You didn’t intend to, it was more a moment of weakness. Her arms were around you, your back to her chest as you lay together on her couch in the comfortable darkness of her living room only a few nights before she kissed you. The admission was out in the open before you could stop it, and you hated the fact she had heard you say that and still continued to lie to you. You had no idea how the woman you thought she was could whisper her next words whilst keeping her own secret locked away.

“You don’t have to be scared with me. I would never hurt you. Lo prometo.”

After a sleepless night that was entertained by memories of you and the stranger you were in love with passing through your mind like a slideshow, you returned to work like nothing happened. You showed up even earlier than normal, a whole hour earlier, the sun only just beginning to peek over the horizon. The bell rang as you opened the door to the little hole-in-the-wall shop, the same one that became the anthem to Alexia’s arrival and departure whenever she paid you a visit.

There were countless visits, each one a memory you could describe in detail, though there wasn’t any point in doing that, seeing as they’d just led to another broken promise.

You were knee-deep in repairing a zipper on some old lady’s favourite jacket when the bell rang again. Of course, your mind immediately jumped to her, but in reality it was probably just the owner. It was still another half hour before the shop opened.

“Perdoni? Estic buscant la…” You knew that voice anywhere.

She trailed off when you rounded the corner, and you gave no reaction whereas her eyebrows shot up, before falling straight back down as she sighed in relief.

“Gràcies a déu. You are here.” Just like the first time, the way she spoke was ineffably soft. Though, there was an allure to it, like she knew something was wrong and she desperately wanted to fix it.

“What are you doing here?” You asked in what could only be described as an insecure whisper.

She took two steps towards the counter, the only physical object that separated you both, nevermind the recent events.

“You did not text or call last night. And you look…” She shook her head and frowned, taking another step. “You look tired. And upset.”

That was one thing that had transpired in the time you spent with her, she came to read you surprisingly well.

“You wear your heart on your sleeve. I'm not sure if you know that.”

Nobody ever truly knew you well enough to identify that. But to her, it was obvious.

“I am tired. I'm okay though.” You nodded. Alexia saw right through you.

“No, you're not. Something is wrong. Please, tell me. I want to know and I want you to feel better. If… if I have done something, I want to fix it.” The blonde said definitively.

What else did you have to lose? You'd already made peace with her being your past, it wasn’t like she could make your future any worse.

“You… lied to me, Alexia.” You stated quietly, averting your gaze to the scratched wood of the counter in front of you. The shop was silent for a few moments, and you knew all was said and done in terms of this… whatever it was between you both.

“I did? A-about what?” She asked, a tremor in her voice that did little to calm your racing heartbeat.

“Your job. I saw you on TV last night. You were on TV.”

All the anxiety you felt at the idea of confrontation tripled when you saw the corner of her mouth twitch the tiniest bit. She found this whole thing funny.

“I don't want to do thi-”

“I never lied. I really didn't lie.�� Another step closer, her waist an inch from the counter. Her hand reached for yours that rested on it, but you pulled it away and moved back a bit.

It was then that she realised how serious this was for you.

“I just don't want you to lie to me, ever. About anything. And we'll be fine.”

Refraining from talking about her job, the thing that everyone overlooks her for as a human who wanted normal things, instead of the player that got harassed for signatures that'd be on the market minutes after she put the lid on her pen or the player that was expected to be perfect all the time, had caused all this. In her eyes, it wasn't a lie, but the minute you voiced your hurt, she recognised how it would have come across for you.

“You did! You can't keep something like that a secret and expect me to be okay with it. How could you do this?” You could never get angry like everyone else could, never feel it normally. You had to let it consume you, to the point of tears. The first of this whole ordeal.

“I said it wasn't important, I never lied to you. I see now it is important, but you never asked me about it and I was relieved about that because everybody sees me as my job and you are the first person outside my family to see me as something more.” She rushed out, taking a deep breath afterwards to try and gain her composure back. It cracked once more when she saw how you tried to hide the fact you had to wipe some tears away, but she remained strong. “Last night, the partit, I know it seemed like a lot. But that is all it is. Just football. And as much as I love it, it was nice to not have to talk about it all day every day with you. You are a normal person, a beautiful and unique person, but… ugh, I do not know how to word it. I do not want to hurt you with what I say because I can't find the right words.”

Despite her frustrations, you sort of knew what she was saying. Judging by the importance of the game you saw yesterday, you could imagine that she never really got to leave the intensity of that with the people she was surrounded by and the fans that followed.

You had a normal job, a normal daily routine. From the sounds of it, her life was far from normal. So, despite the current distance between you both, you sort of understood where she was coming from. You just didn't know what to say.

“I can see now that it was wrong to not tell you about something so big in my life. I will tell you everything you want to know. Everything. You can ask so many questions, I will not hide a thing from you.” She looked and sounded desperate for you to forgive her.

If anyone held a gun to your head in that moment, you couldn't tell them how you felt. As a result of your uncertainty, the silence stretched on and on, only causing more of a gap. With every passing second, Alexia was consumed by dread.

She should have been more considerate, more aware of how you felt and what you needed from her. Instead, she'd gotten tunnel vision on who she could be around you, rather than who you wanted her to be. That revelation made her sick, because there was no one to blame but her if this was something that couldn't be repaired.

“Do you… do you want me to go?” The Catalan questioned.

There was nothing else you thought to do, other than nod.

“Okay.” Alexia said, frowning as she actually processed what she had just said. You saw the gloss in her eyes shine when she turned towards the door, and it tore your heart in two to see her leave.

When the bell rang as the door closed behind her, you knew instantly that you had made a mistake. You were stuck to your spot for a couple seconds, frozen at the decision you decided you loathed.

Seeing her walk out wasn't right. Asking her to go wasn't right. She belonged in your future, and though the thought terrified you, you had no choice but to push out your comfort zone and do something for yourself for once.

With the force you opened the door with, you wouldn't be surprised if the poor bell above it broke. But she was there, just about to round the corner, her head bowed as she tried to leave as quickly as possible. Until you called her name. She turned on the spot, her face pinched in confusion as tears raced down her cheeks. There were matching ones on your own, though you let them fall freely, considering there were more important things on your mind.

Cautiously, Alexia began heading back towards you, unsure if that's what you wanted her to do. Then she saw the way your hands fidgeted and how nervous you seemed, and she sped up a little.

She stood before you, her eyes already red, and you floundered for a moment, wondering how on earth you could come back from telling her to go. Instead, you took one of her hands, waiting for her to nod her permission for you to do so, and led her back inside the shop. The bell rang, again, and it echoed off of the walls until the pair of you were left in silence once more.

Your anxiety mirrored hers, both your futures riding on this moment. It was in your hands to decide what happened next.

“I… panicked.” You started, exhaling sharply afterwards, the truthful words a weight off your chest and making it easier for you to continue. “I got scared, and told myself you betrayed me, as a habit. Which I know you don't want to hear, that's not what anyone wants to hear from someone they're seeing, but it's something I do. Because people do it to me all the time and I'm tired of it. I feel like I was maybe waiting for you to do it, I expected it to happen at some point. Not because of who you are but who I am and what I've been through. So at the first sign of… whatever, I blew it up and turned it into something that it wasn't. I'm sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” Alexia told you when you finished, her free hand taking yours and squeezing them both. “You cannot help being scared of something. And especially if it is something that has happened before. You panicked. You let your mind take you somewhere and got stuck in it, that is normal. It has happened to me before, it happens to everybody. But, look, we are talking about it and we are fixing it. Together. Because I want to be with you, it does not matter to me what habits you have, I want to be here to remind you I still want to be with you. I do want to be with you. Really do.”

Everything she said then was exactly why you knew it was right to go after her. Why you should have let her in after months of her trying. You wished you trusted her earlier and accepted her advances the first time she asked, but if you did that, you wouldn’t have this moment here, where she was showing exactly who she was.

This woman in front of you, she was more than the footballer you saw on TV, and she was so much more than you first gave her credit for. Getting hurt by her not telling you about that portion of her life was unnecessary, because the person on the screen was endlessly talented and extraordinary, sure, but the person in front of you was who she really was. She had many sides and personas, but none of them were on show around you. No, she was Alexia. She was the woman you loved, the gentle and caring soul you had the privilege of knowing for the past months. She was your future.

“I want to be with you too. I’m scared by that, I think it might take a while for my anxiety to go, if you… if you’re fine with that.” At that, she smiled. Her soft, forgiving, welcoming smile that drew you in in the first place.

“I am fine with that. I will do anything, tell you anything, to remind you that I will be here and to make those anxieties go quiet. We will go at your speed from here, whatever you want and need. I just want you. Just want to be yours.” For some reason, you found yourself giggling quietly when she finished speaking. And like the first time she heard you laugh, she joined in with you. “What? I mean it.”

“I know. I know you do. I can’t really believe I found someone like you. Everything in the past seems worth it now that… now that you’re here. And you’re mine.” She frowned, unhappy at one of the things you said.

“It might seem worth it now, but that doesn’t mean you deserved it, cariño.” Her arms wrapped around you, bringing you in gently for a much needed embrace that quelled your worries indefinitely.

“I know. But we don’t need to think about that. I don’t… want to think about any of that anymore.” You admitted, to which Alexia instantly agreed with.

“We can swap those memories with better ones. Of us.” She chose to say, not wanting to dwell on the past that she didn’t know much about, and honestly thought it was better that she didn’t. To know what you’d been through before her would surely break her heart.

“I can’t wait to make memories with you.” You whispered quietly. She hummed in acknowledgement.

A smile grew on your face, and one grew on hers. Both relieved this miscommunication over, happy to be with each other (finally), and excited for the future together.

—

other fic is still in progress, this is something quick fun and short i had the inspo to write before a very long story comes your way soon!! thanks for reading :)🧡

#alexia putellas x reader #woso x reader #alexia putellas #woso fic #woso #woso community #woso imagine

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hannyoontify · 3 months ago

Text

seventeen '97 line as things that have made my heart flutter

warnings | smidge of academic stress in hao's, jealousy [reader's end] in mingyu's, reader is light enough to be moved? in mingyu's, implications of alcohol consumption in dokyeoms (oh my god what happened to 'none :3'), dokyeom calls reader 'pretty'

notes | learned today that extremely fast and aggressive jazz stimulates my brain in a way i've never experienced before so i decided to make the best of it LMFAO

p.s. i recommend reading these as situationships/pre-relationships

95 line | 96 line | 97 line | maknae line

the8 - facetiming at 3 in the morning

“hao? are you asleep?”

you heard muffled shuffling on the other side of the line and minghao’s camera, which was turned on and was currently facing the ceiling, moved around until you saw his eyes peek over the edge of the screen.

“no, i was reading. how’s the homework coming along?” his voice was impossibly soft and soothing, like a gentle lullaby sung to an infant to lull it to sleep. the question made you groan loudly and you dragged a hand through your tired face.

“i hate this. i have two questions left.”

minghao hummed over the line. “mmm… you got this, i believe in you. do you want my help?”

you shook your head. “no, i know how to do it, it’s just…” you let out a strangled yell and wrapped your blanket closer around your body. “i just don’t want to do it.”

“hmm… poor baby. c’mon. you can do it. if there’s anyone who can do it, it’s you.” minghao’s gentle words seemed to reach into your ribcage and grab your heart, gently squeezing until you felt something warm and familiar crawling up your spine. you observed the way his eyes curved into crescent shaped moons when he smiled. the bright green frog headband on his head that made his jet black hair stick out in unnatural directions.

“… you didn’t have to stay up with me, you know.” you mumbled. while you were thankful for minghao’s adamant attitude to stay on call with you until you finished your ap chemistry homework, even if it meant staying up until the most ungodly hours of the night, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt at the thought of him losing sleep because of you.

“and leave you to crash out all on your own? what kind of friend would i be if i missed out on that?” minghao snorted on the other end of the line but when you gave no response, his voice softened. ��you don’t need to worry about me, [name]. now get back to work, those FRQ’s aren’t going to solve themselves.”

when you warbled out another series of exasperated ‘don’t wanna’s’ and ‘i hate my life’s, minghao puffed over the line. “what do you want, [name].”

shifting your weight to rest your head on your desk, your eyes drifted to your phone propped up in the corner of your desk, where minghao’s screen remained facing the ceiling. there was an occasional crinkle on the other side of the line, where he was tossing and turning in his bed, no doubt. the blank, white canvas of his ceiling was the last thing you wanted to see right now.

“wanna see you, hao.” you mumbled. it was barely above a whisper and you doubted your crappy phone mic would’ve picked up the sound. but of course, it did.

you could almost hear the cocky smile in his voice as he spoke. “oh, i see how it is. you wanna see my face, huh?”

“shut up. forget i said anything.” pursing your lips, you pretended to turn back to your neglected ap chemistry homework so he wouldn’t see the way your face was beginning to flush.

minghao laughed loudly, clearly enjoying your pain and misery as you wallowed in your embarrassment. “it’s okay to ask for what you want, [name]. it’s natural.”

“whatever! shush, i’m trying to focus.” biting down on your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, you tried your best to conceal the smile that was threatening to spill. minghao had that kind of effect on you. like an infectious disease that had your heart constantly racing, your palms sweaty, and your face a bright shade of red.

mingyu - grabbing the leg of your chair and pulling you closer towards his direction

mingyu was a force to be reckoned with. you recognized that the minute he introduced himself to you back in freshman year. the way he greeted you with a bright smile before turning around to greet all four other tables surrounding your shared table. before you knew it, the smiley boy had managed to befriend one entire side of the classroom, all within 15 minutes of class starting.

sure, he was easy on the eyes, but you knew it was more than that. it was the sparkle in his eye. the mischievous smile that seemed to announce that he was up to no good. it was the way he genuinely made an effort to connect and hear everything the other person had to say. he was a good person.

you, on the other hand, were not.

of course, mingyu would scoff and roll his eyes at that. he didn’t think you were a bad person, you were simply not as… friendly as he was. it wasn’t that you were rude, but you liked to keep to yourself. you liked to keep conversations, especially with people you were less than friends with, to a minimum. talking was exhausting, and making small talk was the absolute worst. silence was your best friend.

well, besides for mingyu.

or should you say ex-best friend.

(you were joking. kinda.)

you silently huffed to yourself as mingyu flashed another friendly smile to the girl sitting across the aisle from him. his hands were busy enough, but it seemed to you that mingyu was too busy flirting with the girl to actually pay attention to the lab he was supposed to be doing. with you.

“gyu…” you called out quietly. “gyu…!” you called out again, a tad louder in volume.

mingyu whipped his head and smiled. “yeah?”

you felt a pang of guilt shoot through you at his innocent smile.

“we should get started on the lab.” waving the instruction sheet in your hand, you motioned to the microscope on the table before you.

“okay! one sec. lemme finish explaining this vanessa real quick and–“ mingyu faltered when he felt you gently tug on the sleeve of his lab coat. he looked at you with a confused look in his eyes, but his confusion soon changed into one of mischief once he recognized the slight scowl on your face. “ohhh, i see what it is. are you jealous right now?”

“no! as if…” you mumbled. “you’re supposed to be my lab partner, you know.”

mingyu let out a quiet chuckle and tousled your hair with his hand affectionately. “you’re cute.”

“shut up. i’m going to do the lab without you.”

with a dramatic sigh, mingyu leaned over, his face now inches away from yours. you could feel his hot breath on your cheek and it was like the world went momentarily still. there was a familiar tightening in your chest as your face began to warm.

you felt a gentle tug beneath you, followed by a gentle rumble as mingyu dragged your chair closer to where he was. you thanked your lucky stars for mingyu’s baggy lab coat, or else, you were more than positive that you would’ve been able to see his muscles bulging through his shirt and god knows what that would do to you.

once mingyu felt satisfied with your seating arrangement, he leaned back in his chair with a proud smile. “there. shall we get started now?”

dokyeom - taking off your glasses when (he thinks) you’re asleep

you feel like dead weight. all four limbs attached to your body don’t feel like yours and you were 99% positive that soonyoung’s homemade fruit punch was laced with something, despite his claims of it being ‘family-friendly’. you groaned quietly. there was a pulsating headache slowly forming and you turned over onto your side, curling into a fetal position in an attempt to make yourself comfortable.

to be honest, you weren’t entirely sure where you were. after having your social battery getting absolutely drained in a matter of 30 minutes at soonyoung’s halloween party, you stumbled upstairs and climbed into the first bed you saw. surely, soonyoung, or whoever this room belonged to, wouldn’t mind.

the thud of the bass could be felt through the walls, which really wasn’t helping your case of what seemed to be a growing migraine. as you began to silently pray to any greater deity to stop the incoming migraine, you heard the door creak open slowly and you braced yourself to curse out whatever poor and innocent soul decided to walk in on you trying to take a nap.

“[name]? are you in here?” the gentle and quiet words hung in the air, and you felt the air leave your lungs for a moment, suspending time.

it was seokmin.

your eyes remained shut but could hear him shuffling over to the side of bed where you remained in a fetal position. he held a cold hand against your forehead, sending a slight chill down your back.

“no fever…” seokmin mumbled to himself. “[name]? are you awake?”

you really wished you could open your eyes and smile at the sweet boy who was in front of you, but you couldn’t muster the strength in your body to do anything. it was like you lost control of your body.

seokmin tsked under his breath as he muttered something about falling victim to soonyoung’s devil’s juice and something else about reporting to poison control. he reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his soft hand gently grazing your cheek as he did.

“here, let’s…” there was a gentle tug on the metal frames of your glasses that rested somewhat crookedly on your face, before it was pulled entirely. you heard two small clinks of metal as seokmin folded the arms and set down on the bedside table. “don’t want them to break again, do we?”

he chuckled gently, as if reminded by that one time you accidentally broke the frame of your favorite glasses after walking into a pole. you were deadly embarrassed, but seokmin thought it was the funniest thing in the world.

there was a gentle dip at the edge of the mattress. you would estimate that it was a few inches away from your face and you tried your best to will your heart to steady itself.

“so pretty…” seokmin mumbled to himself. was he talking about you? oh, god.

“i’ll let you sleep some more. good night, [name].” the mattress shifted again, followed by the sound of retreating footsteps. there were another pair of footsteps however, that you felt drawing near to your heart.

reblogs and feedback is always appreciated ^-^

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