#everyone at home still calls me the first name

[starsinthesky5]

you belong with me l || joe burrow x reader

description: you and joe have been best friends ever since ohio state and you’ve been his biggest supporter for as long as you both could remember. it was always the same dynamic between you both, friends. very very very close friends. but what if you wanted to be more than just friends?

a/n: best friends to lovers HELLO? you are both so oblivious yet so aware of your feelings at the same time it is crazy. so many little moments that have you like “how the hell are you not aware you’re in love with each other?”.

you’re in denial for a lot of this fic, and Joe pretty much knows what he wants but is a little scared to actually do something about it 

part 2 will be up later this week :)

warnings: language, mentions of sex (no actual smut)

word count: 13.3 k 

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Thursday

You had just gotten home from running a few errands, absolutely exhausted from all the running around you had been doing from Christmas shopping and planning for your sister's wedding. You left all the bags in your entryway and collapsed on your couch. 

“Ughh,” you groaned into the pillow. It had been a pretty chaotic week for you and you felt tired and burnt out, and were in desperate need of a night out. 

You heard your phone buzz in your pocket so you moved to lay on your back and pulled your phone out to see who was calling. The name on your screen immediately made you smile and forget about your fatigue, so naturally, you answered it. 

“Hey, Y/N,” Joe said over the phone as he sat down on his couch.

“Hi Joe,” you smiled as you started twirling your his sweatshirt string. Somehow you ended up with a few of Joe’s shirts or hoodies in your closet from when you’d be over at his place or him at yours. Currently, you have one of his old LSU hoodies which was a little big on you, but that made it even more comfier. “How was practice?”. 

“Good,” He breathed out, sounding a little weary. 

“Is something wrong? You sound extra tired,” you ask your best friend. 

“Nah, Just the usual tiredness from practice but I’m fine,” he lied.

You could tell when Joe would lie to you, the tone of his voice would usually give it away. And right now, he was lying to you. “I know you too well Joe, what's up?”. 

He let out a sigh and said, “The Bengals Christmas Party is tomorrow night and I’m dreading it,”. 

“Ahhh, I see. Mr. Hermit Crab has to go to a partyyyy,” you tease. 

“Really funny,” He says, rolling his eyes which you could feel through the screen.

“I know you don’t partially enjoy parties but it’s Christmas, lighten up,” you tell him. “There will be lots of people there to keep you company,”.

“And that’s just the problem. Everyone there is just gonna wanna talk about football and I need one night to just relax,” he says. 

You felt bad for Joe since you knew how all of this would get draining for him. It was already stressful enough that the playoffs were slowly creeping up and the background noise was only getting louder by the day, and then he had 50 other things on top of that to do. He didn’t get any break time once December rolled around. That’s also why it was hard for him to enjoy his birthday, which happened to be next Sunday. 

“I know, I’m sorry. I wish I could do something to stop you from going but you are the face of the team and not going would look bad,”.

As he listens to you, an idea pops into his head. He sits up and says, “You know, it would be a lot more tolerable if you came with me?”. 

Your eyes light up at his offer. Joe always ended up bringing you with him to events like this. Ever since he got drafted by the Bengals, you’d be right by his side at any team activities that needed a plus 1. At first, you weren’t really sure why he’d bring you along with him, and quite honestly you still aren’t really sure since he could just go alone or bring anyone else, but it always seemed to make him more comfortable when you were there and you’d be happy to keep him company at any given time.

“That’s if you're free?” He adds.

“Oh trust me, I am. I’m in desperate need of a night out so this might be the thing I need,” you say as you hop off the couch and walk into your bedroom to figure out an outfit for tomorrow. 

“Everything alright?” He asks as he gets up to figure out his own outfit for tomorrow now that he actually has a reason to go. 

“Yeah, just a triple homicide. Work, Christmas, and my Sister's wedding planning,” you say as you pull out a few Christmasy dresses, none really catching your eye. 

“Damn, December really isn’t our month,” he laughs. “You need a night out,”. 

“You got that right,” you smile. You're just about to ask him what he was thinking of wearing to the party but your sister calls you, interrupting you and Joe’s call. 

“Shit, my Sister’s calling me. Probably more wedding stuff,” you sigh.

“That’s okay,” he laughs. “I’ll pick you up at 6 tomorrow,” he adds.

“Sounds perfect. See you tomorrow,” you smile.

“Bye, Y/N,” he replies before hanging up. You then call your sister back, placing the phone on speaker and throwing it onto the bed.

“Hey Kaylee,” you say as you go back to outfit hunting for tomorrow. 

“Hey, you busy?” She asks.

“A little. I’m trying to find an outfit for tomorrow,” you say as you pull out a cropped red sweater. 

“What’s tomorrow?” She asks.

“Joe asked me to go with him to the team Christmas party,” you said as you dug through your closet for a black mini skirt and sheer tights to go with the sweater. 

“Aw that’s nice,” she says. “You know, with the number of things Joe brings you to or does with you, you’d think that you both would be a couple by now. You are practically his girlfriend,” she jokes, only partly though. 

You immediately stop looking through your closet and turn back to face your phone. “What?” you say as you feel yourself turning red at the mention of being his girlfriend, a thought you buried all those years ago because you thought it was silly. 

“I’m just joking, Y/N, kind of. But I mean, you are doing what girlfriends typically do. I know you’re really close friends and you have been for years, but he brings you to like everything and you’re always doing something together. People think you’re his secret girlfriend for a reason,” she says. 

You find yourself staring off into space as she’s talking. Deep down, you knew she was right but you just didn’t want to look at it that way. You were doing girlfriend duties for him and it became clearer as time passed by. At first, it didn’t bother you much, it was just two best friends doing best friend things right? It was completely normal for you to go to every single one of his games, go to these team events with him, and spend so much time together, right? But as time went on, you started to realize that maybe people’s comments weren’t totally out of left field. It did look like you were his girlfriend, especially since he didn’t have any other girl with him most of the time. 

You had feelings for Joe back when you first met at Ohio State, but you never did anything about them because you thought he didn’t feel the same. You spent weeks spiraling over your feelings towards him, but you eventually gave up because you didn’t want to lose him as a friend in case he felt differently about you, so you buried the feelings and moved on. Or so you thought you buried them. Clearly, that wasn’t the case since you were spiraling, again, at the thought of being his girlfriend and being told that you were acting like it too.  

You never pushed Joe about his dating life because you thought that was boundary stomping. Yes, you two were very close, but you didn’t really want to know the details about his love life for many reasons. You just watched that part of his life from a distance. He had a few girlfriends over the years, none of which stuck around or fizzled out over time. The only consistent girl in his life was you. And that’s why everyone thought you were his girlfriend when he first got drafted.

They were convinced you both were either dating or hooking up, neither of which was true. It was a little awkward when that gained traction, but it slowly faded out over time but still lingered to this day. You both tried to not let it affect your friendship and for the most part, it worked. You ignored and continued to support him in every way possible, but those thoughts of you being a couple were buried deep inside your mind and sometimes peeked through, just like how they were right now. 

“I haven’t really looked at it that way,” you lied. 

“Of course you haven’t. Why would you? Joe is such a great guy and has been a great friend to you for years. Why would you ever think that way,” she laughs.

Being best friends with one of the best quarterbacks in the league had its perks. But you weren’t one to take advantage of that often. You were just there to support your best friend and enjoy the ride. To everyone else, he was Joe Burrow. But to you, he was just Joe. And you loved that you got to see the real him and the guy you met in college was still there regardless of everything that’s changed since then. 

“Rightttt,” you say as you sit down on your bed.

“Well anyways, I’ll leave you to it. I was just calling about what the menu should look like for the pre-wedding brunch but we can talk about that later,” she says.

“You sure?” You ask.

“Positive. Have fun at the party and tell Joe I said hi,”.

“Thanks, Kaylee and I will. I’ll call you soon,” you say as you hang up. You toss your phone to the side and fall back onto your bed. The thought of you and Joe being a couple was stupid, right? You both had been friends for years and never once did he show any other feelings other than friendship towards you, so why was this even a thought? Were you not seeing something that everyone else was? Did Joe ever have the same thoughts as you?

He was the perfect guy. He was kind, selfless, funny, attractive, smart, and charming. Any girl would be so lucky to have him as her boyfriend. Wouldn’t it be nice if he was your boyfriend? He matches your vibe completely and you both have so much in common, plus you already know so much about each other. You would be the perfect couple and people wouldn’t even be surprised if you got together. 

“Nah, this is stupid,” you shook your head as you broke out of whatever fantasy you were dreaming about. 

But was it a fantasy, or was it something that you both wished was reality deep down?

Friday Night 

The next day flew by pretty quickly and you found yourself sitting at your vanity, applying the last bit of makeup before Joe picked you up. You opted for a cropped red sweater, a black mini skirt with sheer tights, and black knee-high boots. Jewelry-wise, you didn’t go all out. Just your usual earrings and necklaces, but you made sure to wear the diamond tennis bracelet Joe got you after he signed his rookie contract. You didn’t wear it often since it was so expensive, but whenever you did, Joe would notice and a huge smile would appear on his face. 

Flashback to 2020

You sat down on Joe’s couch as he brought over two glasses of red wine. He had called you over for dinner tonight at his new place that he bought once his contract money came through.

“I loveee your house. It’s very homey,” you chirp as you pull a plush blanket over your legs. 

“Thank you,” he smiles as he sits down, handing you your wine glass. “If everything goes according to plan, I’ll be upgrading in a few years,”.

“Oh trust me, it’ll go just as planned,” you say, taking a sip of the blood red wine. “You’re about to set the league on fire,”.

“I appreciate the confidence,” Joe laughs as he sips his wine. 

“I’m so glad you got drafted to Cincy. It was already tough enough that you were down in Baton Rouge for 2 years, I don’t know what I would’ve done if you got drafted anywhere else,” you sigh. 

“Sounds like somebody missed me,” he said as he threw his head back into the couch pillow.

“No shit, goofball. I missed my best friend,” you laughed as you playfully shoved his shoulder. 

“Well, take this as an apology,” he says, putting his glass to the side and reaching down to grab something from the side of the couch. He pulls up a small lilac gift bag and places it in your lap. 

“What’s this?” you question as butterflies fill your stomach. You place your glass on the side table and examine the little bag.

“An apology for being away for 2 years,” he says, raising his eyebrows and motioning you to open the bag.

“It’s not like I didn’t see you at all. I went to a few games and you still came back here during your breaks,” you said as you patted his thigh. 

“Still, I wasn’t at your fingertips like I usually am,” he laughs, causing a blush to creep up your face. “Just open it,”.

You nod and open the bag and are met with a beige box. You open the box and your jaw drops at the sight of a shiny, very real-looking, diamond tennis bracelet sitting inside. 

“Joe, what the fuck,” you whispered as you ran your fingers across the big diamonds. “You didn’t have to- This must’ve been so expensive,”.

“Don’t worry about all that. It’s a gift from me to my best friend and saying no would be rude,” he says, grabbing the bracelet and helping you put it on. “In case you forgot, I am a millionaire now, and you never wanna upset a millionaire,” he jokes. 

“Don’t send your minions on me now,” you joke as he clasps the bracelet onto your wrist. “But seriously, you didn’t have to do this,”.

He tilts his head, giving you a look that you never were one to argue with. “Fine, Fine. Thank you sooo much. I love it,” you say as you launch yourself onto him, pulling him in for a warm hug. 

He wraps his arms around you tightly and laughs into your shoulder. His hand runs up and down your back as you run your fingers through his soft hair. You weren’t sure how long you both were hugging; you were waiting for him to pull away, but he was waiting for you to pull away. But at the same time, neither of you really wanted to pull away. 

You appreciated the glamorous gift from him, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel butterflies in your belly when you opened the box. Little did you know this bracelet was his first official purchase from his contract money. He knew that once the money hit his account, he wanted to buy you something to show how much he cared for you, the only girl that has been by his side through thick and thin. 

End of flashback 

Last night’s thoughts were no longer in your head as you reminded yourself that Joe was just your best friend. Nothing more, and nothing less. There was no reason to ruin your bond with a silly little pipe dream. 

You heard your phone buzz from what was probably a text from Joe. You opened the text, laughing at the text, which was a little inside joke you two had made over the years.

Joe: getaway car 

“Getaway Car” was a term you both would use whenever you needed to escape something. Whether it was wanting to leave a college party because you were feeling uncomfortable, wanting to leave an awkward situation, or like right now, when either of you needed a break from life and needed to do something fun. All you would say to each other was “getaway car” and you’d know what was up.  

You smiled at the text, grabbed your purse, and made your way out the door and down to his car. 

Meanwhile, Joe was humming along to the song playing on his aux, ‘Lovers Rock’ by TV Girl. You both had made a shared Spotify playlist years ago back at OSU and would often listen to the playlist whenever you were together, so naturally he had to play it on the way to the party. This song was clearly your addition as Joe’s music taste was a little different, but he’d learn to enjoy songs like this because of you. 

You also used to listen to this playlist during the time Joe was away at LSU and you would miss talking to him since he was extremely busy. He would do the same on those nights when he was alone and couldn’t sleep because he would be missing your silly little movie nights, thinking about if you were having these movie nights with anyone else while he was away. 

You made your way out of your apartment building, spotted Joe’s car, and walked over to it. You knocked on the window since he was too busy staring off into space to notice you walk over. He jumped slightly at the sudden noise but then relaxed as he realized it was just you. He unlocks the door which you swing open, hopping inside and letting out a deep breath.

“Woo, it’s freezing out there,” you say as you rub your hands together for some warmth. 

He stares at you up and down, taking in your outfit which you looked stunning in, his eyes stopping at your wrist which was decked with the diamond bracelet he got you. A smile creeps on his face, which you notice. 

“You look really beautiful,” He smiles as he puts the car into drive and exits the parking lot. 

You blushed at his compliment as you also took in what he was wearing. Black jeans and a dark green sweater along with one of his many diamond chains. He looked so good right now. The way his hair naturally fell into place, the way his mouth was curled up into a smile, and the way his sweater fit perfectly around his muscular arms. He just looked so good. 

“You don’t look too bad yourself, Burrow,” you tease. 

“Thanks for coming with me by the way,” he smiles over at you.

“Anytime,” you smile back. “Remember, just say ‘getaway car’ if you wanna leave if you get overwhelmed or something,”. 

“Aye-Aye, Captain,” he salutes. 

You take note of the song playing in the car and you blush again, and then hear Joe singing a bit of the song under his breath.

"While the others talk, We were listening to lovers rock, In her bedroom," he mumbles.

“Lovers Rock?” You question. “Damn, someone’s music taste def rubbed off on you,”.

“Actually, it’s our playlist that’s on right now. But yeah, I’ve learned to enjoy this kinda music. Might be because of a certain someone,” he shrugs. 

“Hmm, whoever she is must have excellent taste,” you say as you turn up the volume.

“Oh trust me,” he says looking over at you, the look on his face sending shivers down your spine. “She definitely does,”. 

A short drive later, you both arrive at the party. Joe turns the car off, hops out, and jogs over to your side, helping you out of the car before you can even open the door. 

“Such a gentleman,” you tease as you reach to close the car door, but he beats you to it. 

“For you? Always,” he winks as he closes your door and loops your arm around his, leading you into the party. You blush at the contact, but why were you blushing? He’s just being friendly, right?

Before you can dive deeper into those thoughts again, you find yourself already inside the party. soft Christmas music was playing over the speakers as the room was filled with people. You could see why he didn’t want to go now, especially alone. There were a bunch of food stations around the room, holiday photo ops, Christmas games, and the whole 9 yards. It was all a little overwhelming and it looked like Christmas threw up all over the party venue. 

“Merry Christmas,” you whisper. 

“See why I didn’t wanna come here alone?” he laughs. 

“Ohh yeah,” you nod as he leads you over to your friends. 

“Joe! Y/N!,” Jess says as she gets up from the table, a huge grin on her face. 

“Hey Jess,” you chirp as you pull away from Joe’s arm to hug your friend. 

“Hi Jess,” Joe smiles. “Where’s Sam?”.

“Oh, I think he’s over by the drinks with Ja’Marr and Ted,” she says as she pulls away from the hug. 

Joe looks over at you and you already know what he is going to ask, “Go,” you laugh. “I’ll be here with Jess. Yell if you need me?”.

“You got it,” he smiles as he walks over to the guys. 

“I guess Joe strung you along with him tonight?” Jess asks as she sits back down, pulling out the chair next to her for you. 

“Yeah,” you laugh as you sit down. “He didn’t wanna go and asked if I could go with him to make it more tolerable,”.

“Sounds like Joe,” she laughs. “He really hasn’t changed since college has he? He always used to drag you along to all the parties,”. 

“Not at all,” you smile as you see him laughing with the guys. 

“So, first thoughts about the party? Since it’s your first time here,” she asks as she takes a sip of her drink. 

“Verrry Christmasy and grand. Maybe a little Overwhelming?” you sigh. 

“That sounds about right,” she laughs, looking up and smiling, prompting you to turn your head. 

Joe was walking over, a grin on his face and a drink in his hand. “I got you your favorite,” he says, placing the Peach Mojito down in front of you. 

“Thank You,” you smile up at him, squeezing his hand for a second. 

“I’m not drinking tonight so make sure you drink for me too,” he says. 

“Say less,” you say while you pick up your delicious drink. 

“You good though?” He asks.

“I’m great, go with the guys,” you say, flashing him a reassuring smile. 

“Okay. But if you need anything, just come over,” he says. 

“Same goes for you,” you say as he gives you two thumbs up before walking away. 

“Always making sure you’re good before he does anything else. Classic Joe,” Jess smiles, causing you to freeze for a second. He always did that though, right? That’s just what he does with all his friends, not just you. 

“No big deal,” you whisper to yourself. 

“Hm?” Jess asks. 

“Oh nothing, just talking to myself,” you brush off. “So wait. Did Joe go to the party last year?” you ask, changing the subject as you take a sip of your drink. That question was floating through your mind all day, and you needed to know the answer. He didn’t take you last year but he definitely went, but with who? 

“Mhm,” she nods. “He went with Stella,”.

Your heart drops when she says that name. “Ohh right, his ex,” you sigh. 

“Yup,” she nods.  

His ex-girlfriend Stella. You didn’t really know much about her since you only talked to her a couple of times. One day she was in the suite, then suddenly she wasn’t. You didn’t push Joe to tell you what happened, especially since he didn’t seem too upset about it. All he told you was that they both just didn’t work. 

“What happened between them? You know I usually don’t push him about his love life,”. 

“Oh I know,” she laughs. “I don’t really know the full story myself. All Sam told me was that Joe felt like it didn’t fit. Like it wasn’t really what he was looking for relationship-wise or person-wise,”. 

“Interesting,” you say as you sip your drink. You rarely interacted with his girlfriends. Not just because they wouldn’t stick around so why bother, but also because you felt like they didn’t really like your vibe for some reason. Maybe it was because he would always talk about you and spend time with you, but did they care that much? You were just friends anyway and you thought that was obvious.

Joe’s POV

“Sooo, you brought Y/N?” Ja’Marr teases.

“Yes… I did,” you say, taking a sip of your water. 

“Anything going on over there,” Sam teases as he pats your shoulder. 

“What? With me and Y/N?” You scoff. “Please, we would never-”.

“Now don’t lie to me Burrow,” Ja’Marr says. “Don’t act like you wouldn’t go running to her if she looked at you that way,”. 

“Ja’Marr is right,” Ted adds. “It’s kinda obvious you have a thing for her,”. 

“Are you guys drunk?” You scoff. “What’s with the sudden attack?”. 

“Nah, but you might be,” Ja’Marr says. “Wake up Man. You clearly like her. You’re always talking about her, you’re always with her and don’t forget all those times at LSU when you’d be going on about how you wished she was with you right now. Those feelings ain’t die that easily,”.

“There’s a reason that everyone thought and still thinks that she’s your girlfriend,” Sam says.

“That’s just overly invasive fans and their stupid speculation,” you deflect. 

“Mmm, not to mention, have there been any ladies on your radar since Stella? You both broke up in January which was 11 months ago. And the reason was that you didn’t think she was the right person for you,” Ted says.

“Mhm, and does the right person that you’re looking for happen to be sitting there next to my girlfriend?” Sam adds as points over at you. 

You look over at her, smiling as you see her laughing like a hyena at something Jess said. She looked angelic as the soft glow of the lights reflected off her beautiful face; her cute laugh caught your attention even though you were so far away from each other in the crowded room. 

Deep down, you knew they were right. You didn’t want to admit it, but you did have a thing for her and have had a thing for her since OSU. You never brought up those feelings to anyone, not even Y/N. You didn’t know if she felt the same way about you and you were too scared that you’d ruin your friendship if she didn’t feel the same way. 

Those feelings even stuck around at LSU. They actually got stronger since you were away from her for so long. But you once again didn’t want to screw up your bond, so you repressed those feelings as much as you could and tried to distract yourself, but distractions were only temporary. That’s also why none of your girlfriends suck around. They weren’t what you were looking for and you weren’t invested.  What you were looking for had always been by your side since Day 1, but you just didn’t know what to do about it without risking your friendship. You knew you loved her, and she knew that you loved her as a friend. But she didn’t know that you loved her a lot more than how just friends loved each other.

She was the perfect girl. Any man would be lucky to have her as his girlfriend. She was stunning, genuine, funny, fearless, the epitome of a dream girl. Her being your girlfriend was a dream, but it probably would never happen. It never happened all these years you had known each other, so why now? 

But what if she liked you back? You wouldn’t know because you never tried that door, even though you had the key in your pocket all along.

End of Joe’s POV

The party flew by quickly as you talked with the WAGs for a little, ate some yummy food, and Joe made his rounds as QB1 talking to as many people as he could before his social battery ran out. Occasionally, he’d look over at you if he got a little nervous or overwhelmed. The mere sight of you always calmed him down. And once his battery died, he found himself sitting next to you, as usual. 

Joe’s conversation with the guys still lingered in his mind as he watched you chat and drink with your friends. He didn’t know what to do about the feelings he was feeling towards you and how to handle them, so he decided to let it be and just let things flow the way they were. If something was going to happen, it would. If it wasn’t, it wouldn’t. Forcing something would be the last thing he’d ever do with you. 

You were extra giggly for the past hour, definitely drunk since you were on your 4th, maybe 5th drink of the night. You weren’t really sure anymore since you and the other girls did shots at the bar earlier, so it was definitely more than 5. 

“Y/N, how many drinks have you had,” Joe asks as he looks over at you. 

“Hmmm, I don’t know. Numbers are funny,” you giggle as you grab his arms. “You look really pretty tonight, Joey,” you giggle as you grab another drink. “Have you thought about being a male model? I heard Calvin Klein does some pretty fun shots. The girlies would lose it. I know I would,” you giggle.  

Joe’s eyes widened as he blushed a little. You were clearly out of your mind drunk and he knew exactly what would happen when you got this wasted. You’d be all giggly, then you’d have the zoomies, and then you’d crash, hard. He couldn’t have this happen at the party in front of everyone and he knew you’d kick his ass if he let you act like this in front of them. 

“Okayyy, I think that’s enough drinks for tonight,” he says, taking your drink out of your hand.

“Noooo,” you whine as you reach for the drink. “It’s so good though,”.

“And so is weed but you don’t see me being high all the time,” he jokes as he pushes the drink further away from you. 

You raise your eyebrow at him and say, “That’s funnyyyy. Those shades are glued to your face for a reason,”. 

He stares at you for a few seconds, taking in every detail of your face. How your glossy lips were curled up into a smile, how little strands of your hair were falling onto your face, and how you were practically glowing in the soft light of the room. 

“I don’t think you’d particularly enjoy being crossfaded,” he says matter-of-factly. 

“Do you have some right now? Let’s test it out,” You say as your eyes light up.

Oh hell no. How drunk were you? Joe thought to himself.  “Y/N,” he says, staring deeply into your eyes, grabbing both your hands. 

“What?” You giggle softly as you play with the wristbands on his wrist. 

“Getaway Car,” he says.

You immediately sit up in your chair and turn serious at the words that left his mouth, reminding you what those words meant and what they were used for. “Are you okay? Did something happen?”. 

“I’m fine,” he laughs as he grabs your hand that was playing with his wristbands. “But you’re not. You’re 2 seconds away from falling over,”.

“What do you mean? I’m amazingggg,” you laugh as you stand up to prove your point, almost falling over but Joe places his hands on your hips, catching you before you can. His big warm hands were firmly holding you in place as heat climbed up your body at his electric touch. 

“Yeaah, we’re going home now,” he says as he gets up from his chair, not giving you a second to protest. He grabbed your waist with one hand to make sure you didn’t fall over as you said your goodbyes and made your final lap around the room. The hand that was wrapped around your waist caused butterflies to fill your belly. His touch was so gentle and fulfilling, yet had you craving more.

He led you out to the car, his hand still gripping your waist, as you were going on about how much you loved Christmas. 

“I just love giving gifts,” you giggle as you lean your head on his shoulder. “It’s sooo fun getting to see everyone’s reactions when they open the gifts I give them. Speaking of, what do you want for Christmas Joey?”. 

“Nothing,” Joe smiles. “I already have everything I want,” he says, looking down at you. 

You pause for a few seconds as your drunken mind tries to process what he said. You didn’t see him look down at you, but you could feel his gaze on you. He wasn’t talking about you, was he? He was definitely just talking about his life and career. 

“That’s funny. I already got your birthday gift down for next Sunday, but you gotta meet me halfway for Christmas,” you say, quickly dodging those thoughts again. 

“Mmm, still don’t want anything. For either occasion in fact,” he says as you reach the car. He removes his hand from your waist to open your door and then helps you sit inside. 

“Well too bad,” you smile as he sits in the driver’s seat. “I guess I’ll have to figure it out myself,”.

“Have fun,” he says as he connects his phone to the Bluetooth; your playlist once again playing on the speakers. 

You fall back into your seat and bob your head along to the music as Joe pulls the car out of the parking spot, and leaves the party venue. A few minutes later, you’ve made it onto the highway. Your head is leaning against the comfy headrest as you look over at Joe. His tan skin was shining in the moonlight and his pink lips were curled up into a smile. You move your head to look out the window, taking in the gorgeous view of the Cinncinati Skyline, and then notice that Joe drove past the exit that you would take to get downtown to your apartment.

“Joe, you missed the exit,” you say as you flip your head back over to him.

“I know,” he laughs. 

“Uhhh, well are you gonna go a different way or?” you mumble.

“Nah, you’re way too drunk to be left alone tonight. We’re going back to my place,” he says.

“Joe, you don’t have to do that. I’ll be fine on my own and I don’t wanna intrude,” you say, sitting up in your seat.

“Intrude on what? It’s just me in that big-ass house,” he laughs. “Having some company won’t hurt,”.

“Are you sure?” you ask.

“Positive. I know how you get when you’re this drunk and I would be a terrible friend to make you deal with that alone,” he laughs. 

“Yeahh,” you trail off. “You’re such a great..friend,”. It pained you a little to say “friend” and you weren’t entirely sure why. It also pained Joe a little to hear you say “friend”. If only you would put “boy” in front of it, he thought to himself. 

“So it’s settled then. You’re getting the Burrow treatment tonight,” he winks, looking over at you, his eyes sparkling in the moonlight. 

“Uhhh, are we still talking about hangover care or?” you joke, breaking out into a fit of laughter. 

“Dirty, Dirty Mind,” he chuckles as he shakes his head. 

You bit your bottom lip as you stared out the window again, watching the cars pass by one by one you let out a content sigh and got comfy in the car seat again. But then, the song on the aux changed, immediately catching your attention and causing you to flip your head back to him. 

Joe’s eyes light up as he hears the soft music playing in the background, recognizing the song instantly and raising the volume. 

“Ohh yeah,” you say, moving up in your seat and swaying your shoulders as you recite the song lyrics. 

“Because I'm eighteen, And I still live with my parents. Yeah, they're not like yours,” you belt out as you close your eyes and dance in your seat. 

“Well, yours are more understanding. I've never fell in love, I've saved those feelings for you,” Joe sings, looking right over at you as he sings that last bit. He watches you cutely dance around in your seat, his heart softening as he takes in the moment. Something about you sitting in his car seat, after a late night, on the way back to his house, made him feel all giddy inside. 

“So let's do all the stupid shit that young kids do. It's me and you, youuu,” you sing as you open your eyes and point at Joe, who looks a little..lovestruck?

Lovestruck? Please, as if he would ever feel that about you out of all people, you thought to yourself. The alcohol in your system was really messing with your mind right now. 

About 20 minutes later, Joe pulled into the driveway of his house, which was massive. He definitely had upgraded from his last house, just as he had hoped to and just as you said he would do. It was just him in this big house, all alone. He would often get bored since he didn’t have anyone around to keep him company, so he was more than ecstatic to have you over for the night.  

After parking in the garage, he helps you inside the house. He walks you over to the kitchen island, pulling out a barstool with his leg, and motioning for you to sit down.

“First order of business, Water and Advil,” he says as he grabs a water bottle from the fridge, then moves to open the drawer to grab the bottle of Advil. He pulls out two tablets and hands them to you along with the water. 

“Thank you,” you say after you wash down the medicine with the water. 

“Second order of business, getting you something comfy to wear,” he says, grabbing your hand and yanking you off the stool. His warm hand molded perfectly against yours as he led you up the stairs to his bedroom. 

“But I don’t have any clothes here,” you mumbled as he pulled you into his room, still holding your hand. 

“That’s okay, you can just wear one of my big shirts,” he says as drops your hand and walks into his closet, returning to the room after a few moments with a purple LSU shirt in hand. “Is this good?” he asks.

“Perfect,” you whisper as you take the shirt from his hand. “Be right back,” you smile as you walk into his bathroom. 

You peel off your clothes from tonight, placing them into a neat pile on the vanity as you slip on his shirt. It was massive on you, no surprise there though. You smiled as you read the text on the shirt; it was his championship t-shirt from when he won the Natty. You scrunched up the fabric, bringing it to your nose, taking a deep breath, and remembering that amazing night.

Flashback to 2020 – New Orleans, Louisiana 

You looked over at the scoreboard, the score reading 42-25 just as the clock was winding down with only a few minutes left in the 4th quarter. 

“He did it, he really fucking did it,” you whispered as tears started to fall from your eyes, your friends all jumping up and down around you and screaming at the top of their lungs. 

“3..2..1,” Lydia screamed as purple and yellow confetti filled the stadium. The LSU tigers had just won the national championship, Joe had just won the national championship. After years of hard work and dedication, never backing down from a challenge, his dreams had finally come true, and you got to be apart of it and witness it. 

After watching the trophy presentation and the celebrations on the field from the stands, you made your way down to the field, hoping to get a moment with Joe before he was pulled in for media. 

You made your way through the crowds of reporters, players, and families in search of him, but you literally could not figure out where he was. 

“Did he already get pulled in for media?” you asked yourself as you looked around the field, your smile dropping. 

Suddenly, you felt two arms snake around your waist and pull you back into a warm embrace. “What the F-”.

“Calm down, Y/N, it’s just me,” he says, swaying you back and forth. You could recognize that voice anywhere, even in the loudest settings. You place your hands on his and turn your head up, meeting his baby-blue eyes. 

“Joe,” you whisper, feeling tears fill your eyes again. 

“Hi,” he mumbled before you flipped around in his arms and looped your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a hug. 

“You did it,” you said, crying into his shoulder. “I’m s- so proud of you,”.

“Hey, Hey, why are you crying?” he asked, rubbing circles on your back for comfort. 

You pulled your face out from his shoulder and said, “Because, you’re a national champion now, Silly. This is what you’ve been working for and it finally happened. I’ve been fortunate enough to be by your side through the whole thing and can’t help but get emotional when my best friend just had his dream come true,”. 

He stays silent for a few moments before he pushes your head back into his chest. “Thank you. For everything,” he says, his grip on your waist getting tighter. He remembered how you had been nothing but supportive of his dreams since you met. There were days back at OSU when he would come back to his dorm after practice, feeling shitty and lost since nothing felt like it was going his way, and you would drop whatever you were doing at the moment to go and comfort him since he didn’t want to be alone. Those many late nights you spent trying to help him study and catch up on his work so that he could focus on football during the day. And nothing would ever come close to how you refused to miss a single one of his games, even if you were watching back in Ohio. He remembers you telling him that at your friend's bachelorette party, you had the game pulled up on your phone and sat at the bar the entire night watching instead of doing shots and dancing with your friends. 

The day he decided that he was going to LSU was hard for both of you. He could tell how you were holding back from telling him how you really felt, which was incredibly sad and upset, but you knew he had to do this for himself, and he watched as you plastered a smile on your face and cheered him on, even if it broke your heart. 

“You are the most strongest, dedicated, and talented person I know. I am so proud of youuu,” you squeal into his chest. 

Joe felt fireworks in his heart as he listened to you go on and on about how well he did in the game. Those feelings he had for you were so hard to avoid, and right now he felt like ripping the bandaid off and telling you how he felt straight up. But he couldn’t. He wanted nothing more than to kiss your soft lips right now and tell you that he loved you more than anything in the world, but he just couldn’t. Instead, he just enjoyed the feeling of you with him right now during one of the happiest moments in his life. There was no need to ruin it with his pipe dream.   

End of flashback 

You spent a few moments fixing your hair and washing your makeup off before turning off the lights and joining him back outside, but you stopped as you realized something. 

“Fuck, I don’t have shorts on,” you realize. You were just in his shirt, your white lace panties, and your socks, and didn’t know what to do. The shirt was big enough to cover your upper thighs and if you avoided any movement that caused the shirt to ride up, you would be fine.

“He won’t care regardless,” you whisper as you shake your head and leave the bathroom. 

While you were changing, Joe had changed into a pair of sweat shorts and a short-sleeved tee and was sitting on the bed, scrolling through his phone.

“Aren’t you cold? It’s December,” you giggle as you join him in the room again.

He looks up from his phone, heat rising up his cheeks as he takes in the sight of your bare legs and your body which was clothed by one of his shirts. Your cheeks were a little rosy, definitely an effect of all the alcohol you consumed. A feeling of nervousness now filled his body as he watched you put your stuff down on his table, the way your hips swayed from side to side, and how your hair bounced with each step. He realized that he hadn’t given you any shorts or boxers, so you were definitely just in your underwear right now, and that made him want to pass out. Why did he feel like a teenage boy all of a sudden? He had seen you in pajamas many times so why was he feeling like this? Whatever it was, it definitely was not helping the thoughts he had about your relationship earlier in the night because here you were, standing in his room, looking absolutely incredible. 

“You tell me,” he says as he raises his eyebrows. 

“Fair point,” you laugh as you walk over to his bookshelf, a photo frame catching your eye. He carefully watches you as you walk over to the picture, his heart feeling like it is about to beat out of his chest as he realizes what you are looking at. 

It was a photo of the two of you from one of his games at LSU. He was looking down at you, a huge grin on his face as if he was laughing at something you said. You were looking back up at him, smiling at his expression. You both were almost lost in each other’s eyes in this photo, something you hadn’t noticed before. This was Joe’s favorite photo of the two of you and he had managed to keep it to himself, up until now. 

Flashback to 2019 - LSU

You had flown into Baton Rouge early this morning and were going to surprise Joe at his game tonight since he had no idea you were coming. He had been begging you for weeks to come down for a weekend to see him because he missed you, but you kept pushing it off with lazy excuses so you could pull one on him. But little did he know, you had been planning a trip to see him for the past month. 

He caught a glimpse of you in the stands earlier, his entire face lighting up and his heart soaring. He thought he was dreaming for a second as he saw you sitting with his mom, wearing his number, and screaming his name, You waved over at him before the game started, but didn’t get a chance to talk to him as he was pulled into pregame warmups. Now, you were waiting in the tunnel as the game finished, eagerly waiting to see your best friend. 

You were chatting with Joe’s Mom as you waited for him to come out from the locker room. A few minutes later, you heard an all too familiar voice behind you. 

“You fucking liar,” he laughs.

You spin around, your heart skipping a beat as you see Joe standing in front of you. 

You walk over to him, launching yourself into his open arms and letting out a squeal as he tightly wraps them around your waist, slightly lifting you off the ground and swaying you from side to side. “I mm- missed you,” you sputtered, trying to hold back your emotions.

“And you said you were too busy with Jake’s cousin's wedding this weekend,” he says, his hand rubbing your lower back.

“Please, as if I would go to the wedding of my ex’s cousin rather than flying down to see my best friend who I haven’t seen in 5 months,” you say as he lets go of you, slowly sliding you back down to the floor. 

“Ex?” He asked.

“Oh yeah. I forgot to tell you over the phone. We broke up,” you say as you meet his eyes. 

“Really?” He asks, trying hard not to smile. He felt bad that you and Jake broke up, but part of him felt a little happy that there wasn’t any other guy in your life taking his space at the moment. Jake got to do everything Joe would do with you but couldn’t because he was away. The movie marathons, game nights, trying new restaurants, arcade runs, shopping, building legos, literally everything, he got to do, and it made Joe a little jealous. 

He never really got too involved in your dating life. He felt like it was uncharted territory since he was your best friend and a guy. It would be a little weird if he was getting involved. He also didn’t want to give the guys the wrong idea about your friendship. Although, he did have moments where he wished that it was a little more than just a friendship.

“Yeah,” you sigh. “Just didn’t feel right. He didn’t seem invested in the relationship lately anyway,”.

“Mr. Lovebombing not being invested? Shocker,” he teases. You felt your smile drop a little bit at his teasing. Yes, you were over him, but it still stung a little bit since you were pretty unlucky in the boyfriend department and this was just another addition.

He immediately felt bad for saying that, knowing how you felt about relationships, so he pulled you into a side hug. “Sorry, that was jerky,” he mumbles. 

“It’s okay,” you say as you pat his chest. “I should’ve seen it coming,”.

“Well if it makes you feel better, I never liked him anyway, he laughs. 

“Joe,” you say as you playfully swat his arm while pulling away from the hug. 

“Hey, can you blame me? He doesn’t like ‘The Office’. That’s a crime,” he deadpans. 

“I missed you so much,” you laughed, staring deeply into his eyes. God you missed him. You missed his cheery attitude, his million-dollar smile, and the comfort you’d feel when you were with him. Joe could turn your mood around in an instant and make you forget about everything bad in your life. No other guy could ever make you feel the way he did, it was an irreplicable feeling. 

“Me too,” he sighed. “5 months is way too long and you’re so far away,” he mumbled, looking down at his feet.

“I know but hey, I’m here now. And even if it’s for a few days, I’m here,” you say, gently rubbing his bicep.

He looks back up at you with a smile, “Yeah, you are,”. He looked into your chocolaty eyes, searching them for a few moments, hoping to find something in them that he’d been waiting for, but he was interrupted by your laughter. 

“They might have to force me onto the plane back to Ohio. I’ve been here for a day and I don’t want to go back,” you giggle. 

“I can sneak you into my apartment,” he shrugs. “Just act like you’re on the football team and you’re golden,” he jokes. 

While you two were talking, Joe’s mom snapped a few photos of your reunion, neither of you noticing the camera snaps.

“Oh yeahh. I’ll totally fit right in,” you say, shaking your head. “I can be your new star Wide Receiver,”.

“Ja’Marr and Justin might have a problem with that,” he shrugged. 

“They won’t when they see how great of a duo we make, on the field and off,” you wink. 

 End of flashback 

“I haven’t seen this one,” you smile as you look back at him. “Gatekeeping, Burrow?”.

“It’s one of my faves so yes, yes I am gatekeeping,” he shrugs. 

“Well, I’m stealing it,” you say, picking up the frame. 

“Uhh, no you’re not,” he says, slowly standing up from the bed. 

“Ohh yes, I am,” you tease as you turn around to meet his eyes. He walks over to you as you slowly walk backward, moving away from him. 

“Okayyy, I think it’s time for bed,” he says as he reaches out to grab you, but you take another leap back towards the door. 

“Nopeee,” you smirk. “Catch me if you can,” you say, sticking your tongue out at him before running out the door. 

“We are not about to do this,” Joe mumbles as he runs out the door, following you as you run through the halls of his house. Giggles and Laughter echo throughout the house as you run down the stairs, looking back a couple of times to see if he is still there, and he is. Even though he was exhausted, he was enjoying chasing you throughout the halls of his house. The usually quiet halls were now filled with your shrieks and giggles, a sound that he loved to hear. You run over to the kitchen, standing on the other side of the island as Joe runs to the couch to grab a pillow. 

“Joe!” you scream as he grabs a couch pillow, launching it straight at your head but you quickly duck. 

“You asked for it,” he laughed. 

“Oh, it’s on,” you grin as you place the photo on the island, making sure it didn’t get caught in the battle. 

“Whatcha gonna do?” he smirks as he places his hands on his hips, bouncing from side to side.

“Hmm, I don’t know,” you say as you slowly walk over to the comfy chair next to the dining table, grabbing a stray couch pillow and hiding it behind your back. 

He notices you hiding a pillow behind your back, so he leans down and grabs another one. While he was doing this, you ran over and started hitting him, gently of course, with the soft pillow. 

“Got youu,” you giggle as you smack him with a pillow repeatedly. 

“Nope,” he smirks as he grabs his pillow and swings at your abdomen. His strength was unmatched so the hit sent you back a little, almost causing you to fall over.

“Oh, now you’re done for,” you grin as you attack him with the soft pillow and he does the same to you. Giggles and squeals filled the room as you playfully battled it out, neither of you willing to give up. But soon, the teasing turned into a full-blown pillow fight as you both unleashed your inner children, swinging your pillows with wild abandon. Feathers flew everywhere, coating the floor in a soft, white blanket. A couple of swings later, you catch Joe off guard, tackling him to the ground as you place your legs on each side of his hips, caging him in on the floor. 

You hold your pillow above your head in mock triumph. He wriggled beneath you, trying to grab the pillow away, but you held it just out of reach, teasing and taunting him.

“I winnn,” you laugh as you look down, smiling at Joe's disheveled hair and flushed cheeks. You were so caught up in the childish moment that you didn’t even realize you were straddling his hips right now, and his hands were resting firmly on your hips. Your shirt had ridden up your thighs a little and you were definitely showing a little too much down there, but you were so caught up in the moment that you couldn’t care less.

“Zoomies?” Joe giggles as he looks into your eyes. 

“Zoomies,” you nod as you throw the pillow to the side, trying to catch your breath. A million thoughts were now rushing into your head at once. You were literally on top of him right now, but he didn’t even seem bothered by it. It was like he was enjoying it. Was he enjoying it? You move your hand down, placing each one on his biceps and digging your nails into his soft skin. 

Joe was trying so hard not to say something about how you were on top of him right now. He was just enjoying the sight of you above, as silly and sultry as that sounded. He looked down and noticed your bare thighs and the shirt riding up and you seemingly weren’t wearing anything under it other than your underwear, just like he had thought. God, you just looked so pretty and sexy, he thought to himself. Your hair was messy and your cheeks were blush pink, but you still looked gorgeous. You seemed so relaxed and comfortable, and he was trying so hard not to ruin the moment by saying something stupid. 

“You look so pretty,” he thought out loud, his face turning red as he realized he said that to you.

“Thank you,” you smile back, internally screaming at his comment. Was he being extra affectionate tonight, or were you just delusional? You definitely looked like a mess right now, and in no way did you look pretty, but his compliment still made your heart soar. A soft yawn left your lips as you rubbed your eyes, now feeling the ‘crash’ part of your hangover. 

“Crash time?” he asks as he rubs your thighs, your stomach fluttering at the contact. Why was he being so lovey-dovey right now? His soft hands massaged the plush skin of your thighs as you stared deeply into his baby blues, trying to make sense of what was going on. 

“Yeah,” you say as another yawn escapes your lips. You get off of him, slowly standing up as you are feeling the aftermath of the zoomies. Joe holds out his hands just in case you fall over as he gets up. 

“You can sleep in my bed and I can take the couch. The guest bedroom is kinda a mess right now since I’m using it for storage until they finish the basement,” he says.

“Hell no. I don’t wanna kick you out of your own bed,” you say as you pick up the pillows from the floor and put them back on the couch, your legs a little wobbly and your head feeling a little woozy. “I’ll take the couch,”.

“No way. You take the bed,” he says as he picks up the stray feathers from the floor. 

“Not happening, Joseph,” you mumble as you help him gather the feathers.

He heaves out a sigh, “I’m too tired to fight you on this. Why don’t we just share it?”. 

Your heart skips a beat as you look up at him, the look on his face telling you he is 100% serious. Although you and Joe had been friends for years, you had never slept in the same bed together. 

“As long as you’re not a kicker,” he jokes.

“Please, I sleep like a baby,” you say as you walk over to the trash can, throwing the feathers into the bin. “Besides, I’m more of a cuddler and not a kicker,”. 

“So that’s a yes?” He asks, trying not to sound too eager, especially at the mention of cuddling. 

“Fineee,” you smile. “If you insist,”.  

Internally, Joe was screaming. He told himself that he’d let things flow the way they were and let things happen naturally, that’s if something were to happen. He didn’t know if he was just reading into things a little too much, but was it just him or were you acting a little different around him?

Your heart felt like it was about to beat out of your chest. There was no reason for you to get so worked up over sharing a bed with Joe. It was nothing, just you sleeping right next to him, together under the covers, so incredibly close to his body. It was definitely nothing. 

A little later, you're getting ready for bed as Joe brings out an extra pillow for you. You walk over to the bed, open the soft covers, and slide in. His bed was so comfortable; so soft and like a cloud. He turns off the lights and plugs in his phone before joining you in bed. Your heart was beating so fast as he moved into the bed next to you. There was no reason for this to be weird, but you were making it weird. 

You moved back against the pillow, sliding down the bed, and pulling the covers up to protect you from the chilly room and to hide your nervousness. 

“Did you have fun tonight?” You asked Joe as you stared up at the ceiling. 

“Actually? I did. All thanks to you,” he said. 

“Really?” You giggled, moving your head to look at him. You could barely make out his face in the darkness, but you could tell he was looking at you. 

“Yup. You make everything more enjoyable and bearable for me,” he said, turning his head back over and staring up at the ceiling. “Did you have fun? I hope these football things aren’t getting too repetitive for you,”.

“Not at all repetitive. You know I love doing this stuff with you. I needed a break from life and this was just the thing. Thanks for bringing me with you,” you smiled.

“You don’t have to thank me, Y/N. You know I’m always here when you need something, even if it’s an escape from life for a day,” he says as he moves his hand down to yours, entwining your fingers together as he gives your hand a soft squeeze. Butterflies filled your stomach at his soft touch and meaningful words. 

“Besides, I enjoy having you as my permanent plus 1,” he laughs. 

“Permanent?” You ask, feeling the heat rise up your body again. 

“Yeah,” he sighs. “If you haven’t noticed, I’m not having much luck in the girlfriend department,”. 

“Not saying you’re filling in those shoes and are a filler,” he says, quickly trying to soften his words because of how jerky it sounded. “I just like having you with me all the time, Ya know? That’s prob why people think you’re my girlfriend”.

“It’s okay, Joe. I know what you mean,” you say, adding a fake laugh into the mix. Your stomach did a somersault when he said that. Were you really about to have this conversation about that topic right now? 

“But please, I could name at least 100 girls who would be standing at your doorstep in an instant,” you giggle. 

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I want any of those girls,” he says, craning his head over to face you, his hand still holding yours, now tighter. 

“I want someone who matches my vibe. Someone who makes me feel normal and doesn’t constantly remind me that I’m a millionaire quarterback. Someone that I can take home to my parents and can feel comfortable around. Someone who can enjoy the simplicity of playing Smash-Bros and building Legos as a date. Someone that appreciates the real me and not the superficial flashy shit,” he says. As he was saying all of this, the girl he pictured in his mind was you. He was describing you. You were what he wanted. 

“You didn’t find that with Stella?” You asked, completely oblivious to what he was implying.

“Nah. She was great at first but as time went on I realized that she was more into the lifestyle of dating a football player than the actual relationship part. And I also didn’t feel fireworks with her,” he said.

“Ah yes. Fireworks. Just like your Mom told us,” you remembered. His mom had told you at dinner a few years ago that when she met his dad, she felt fireworks. Fireworks are what you feel when you meet the right person, according to Robin. You hadn’t felt fireworks with any other guy other than Joe, but you never told that to anyone. And he felt the same. He felt fireworks every time he was with you and he’d never felt that with any girl. 

“Yeah so I’ll probably die alone, he jokes.

“Please, we’ll die alone together,” you say as you take your hand out of hold and playfully shove his shoulder.

“I’m assuming there’s no guys on your radar?” He wonders, hoping you would say no.

“Nope. There hasn’t been any since Noah,” you replied.

“That was 8 months ago,” Joe gasped.

“Why do you sound so surprised?” you laughed. “You know I’ve never had luck with guys. None of them match my vibe and want something else out of the relationship that I don’t agree with. I want someone real, genuine, and serious,”. 

“I could name 100 guys that would be at your doorstep in an instant,” he says, echoing your words from earlier.

“Doesn’t mean I want any of them,” you say, echoing his words. 

“Fair point,” he laughs. 

“Yeah. So I’ll die alone too,” you joke.

“Technically not alone if we die alone together. We’ll have each other,” he said. 

“I wouldn’t want it any other way,” you yawned, feeling another wave of tiredness

“Sleepy time?” Joe chuckles. 

“Mhmmm,” you groan as you stretch out your arms. “Don't ever let me drink that much again,” you mumble as you pull the covers higher. 

“You got it. Goodnight, Y/N,” he smiles as he turns his head over to you. 

“Night, Joey,” you smile before turning over and letting out a deep breath. 

20 minutes passed by and you were still wide awake, not finding comfort in his bed which was odd considering it was like a cloud. Your thoughts about you and Joe were also keeping you from sleeping. Ever since your sister mentioned that you were acting like Joe’s girlfriend yesterday, your head was spiraling and the alcohol from tonight was making it worse. And the conversation you just had with him was making it even more confusing. Sure, you did some girlfriend-type things, but you knew he would never look at you that way. He saw you as a friend and that’s all, at least that’s what you thought. 

Suddenly, you felt Joe’s hand creep around your waist, pulling you into his chest. Your heart stopped and your body froze from the sudden movement. What the actual fuck was going on. 

“Joe?” You mumbled, not meeting his eyes because you were literally about to scream.

“Hm?” He mumbled, half asleep. 

“Your arm,” you whispered.

“I’m cold,” he muttered as he held you tighter. “And you’re so warm and comfy,”. 

Your heartbeat picked up again as you felt his big hand sprawled out against your belly, not to mention that your ass was literally on his crotch right now. His body, although saying he felt cold, was hot. So very hot. 

“Is this weird?” he mumbles, opening his eyes. He really hoped that this didn’t weird you out.

You stayed silent for a few seconds, not knowing what to say or do. You didn’t feel weird oddly enough as that sounded. Something about this felt natural and so right. 

“It’s okay,” you softly spoke. “I’m good,”. 

Joe smiled at your response, feeling like he was flying through the clouds right now as he was practically cuddling with his favorite person. Everything about this just felt so right, and he wasn’t the only one who thought so. 

“Good, you said you were a cuddler so I hope this is comfy,” he mumbled. 

You felt your heart exploding as he moved closer to you. His arm around you felt like a safety blanket, protecting you from everything on the outside. A comfortable embrace that you wished you had around you forever. It felt right.

“Trust me, it’s perfect,” you whisper, closing your eyes and losing yourself in his embrace, too tired from the night to fight back. 

A few moments later, you were fast asleep, finally feeling comfortable and it was all because of him. 

The next morning 

Your eyes slowly flutter open as the golden light shines through the windows. You reach out to grab your phone, the time reading 7:35 AM. You felt your head slowly start to throb, a sure result of your hangover from last night. You were just about to get up but you felt a heavy force holding you down. 

“What the-” you whisper as you look down, noticing Joe’s hand is still wrapped around your stomach. You had forgotten that you were at his house and in his bed, and he was still wrapped around you. 

“Uh oh,” you whisper. You turned your head around and saw Joe sound asleep, looking so adorable as his hair was sprawled out against the pillow and soft snores coming from his mouth. You remember that he brought you here after the party last night, which meant you had no way of getting back home. You didn’t want to wake him up because first, he looked so comfortable right now, and second, you didn’t know how to talk to him after what happened last night. Those thoughts you had about your relationship with Joe only got stronger after the night you had. Although nothing like that happened, your feelings for him surely got more complicated. 

“Don’t leave me,” you heard Joe mumble in his sleep. 

Your eyes widened at his soft words, was he talking about you? You turned your head around to see if he was awake, but he was still sound asleep and snoring again. He must’ve been sleeptalking, you thought to yourself. 

You pulled out your phone again, opening up your messages to beg your friend Lydia to come pick you up. She usually got up early on Saturdays for Pilates so she should respond.

You: emergency! please come pick me up 

Lydia: good morning to you too lol. everything alright? 

You: everything’s fine I just uhh need a ride home

Lydia: home? where are you?? 

You: joe’s house 

Lydia: oh 👀 

You sighed at your friend's text. Now was not the time to have this conversation and you knew exactly what she was going to say. You and Lydia had known each other since Ohio State so she pretty much knew everything about you and Joe’s friendship since you were all a part of the same friend group. She was a huge advocate for you and Joe to be a couple back at OSU, but you always shut her down before she could get too matchmaker-ish. She claimed that she saw something “special” between you two, but your ignorant ass brushed it off over and over, just like how you were doing now. 

You: just pls come pick me up

Lydia: on my way ;) be there in 10

You let out a relieved sigh as you carefully peeled Joe’s hand off from your waist, quickly replacing it with a pillow so he wouldn’t feel the difference, and thankfully he didn’t. You walked into the bathroom, grabbed your clothes from last night, and quickly exited his room. You glanced back at him for a few seconds, taking note of the smile on his adorable face and his arms wrapped tightly around the pillow that he thought was your waist. 

“Man,” you whispered to yourself as you turned back around and made your way down the stairs. 

You waited by the door for Lydia as your mind was exploding with thoughts now that you were sober enough to process everything. What the hell happened last night? Was Joe just being the usual Joe because something felt different about his mannerisms, words, and attitude toward you the entire night? And even this morning, his arm was still around your waist and seemingly wasn’t planning on moving it. 

You heard a car pull up and peeked out the window, seeing that it was your bestie. “Thank fuck,” you sighed as you had to escape the scene. You don’t know what you would’ve said to him once he had woken up. Especially since you were 100% in your senses now. 

You quickly opened the door, softly shutting it on your way out. You ran over to her car and hopped inside without a second thought. 

“Damn, you’re in a rush,” she laughs as she locks the door after you shut it. 

“No rush. Just uhh, need to get home,” you say as you buckle your seatbelt.

“Whatever you say,” Lydia giggles as she puts the car in drive. “So how was it?” She asks. 

“How was what?” You say, raising your eyebrows.

“The sex, dummy,” she laughs.

“What?” You shriek as your eyes widen.

“Don't play dumb with me, Y/N. Is he as good in bed as he is on the field?”. 

You stare at her for a few quiet seconds before breaking out into a fit of laughter. 

“Oh my god,” you laugh as you lean forward. 

“Took you long enough. I’ve been saying this would happen for yeaaaars,” she boasts. “Why else would you need me to come to pick you up from Joe’s house at 8 am while you’re wearing what definitely is his t-shirt and I assume no shorts and just panties underneath?” She adds. 

“You’ve got it all wrong,” you wheeze. “I was super drunk last night from the Christmas party and he just brought me to his place,”. 

“Ahh, so drunken sex? Even better,” she teases as she winks at you.

“Lydia, we didn’t hook up,” you say, your laughter dying down. “He just gave me his shirt so I wouldn’t have to sleep in my outfit from the party,”. 

“Okayyy sure, but that still doesn’t explain why you ran out of his house so early in the morning and why he couldn’t take you home,” she said. 

“That’s a long story,” you say, taking a deep breath and falling back into your seat.

“We’ve got time,” she laughs.

“I don’t really know,” you breathe out, staring up at the ceiling of the car. “My sister mentioned the other day that I’m acting like Joe’s girlfriend and it just got me thinking,” you sigh. 

“Oh?” She says, a smile forming on her face.

“And last night was weird. I feel like he was being extra affectionate but I don’t know if that was just the alcohol in my system messing with me. And he was talking to me about how he hadn’t found the right girl yet, how he brings me everywhere and that’s why people think we’re dating, and how I’m his ‘permanent plus 1’ because he likes having me around,”. 

“Ohhhhh?” Lydia drags out, her face scrunching up as she tries to hold back from saying something about it.

“Don’t get too excited. I already knew that the general public thought that we were together, but I thought we were over that,”. 

“You won’t be able to get over that until you admit the truth. And the truth is that you like him. Like more than just a friend,” Lydia blurts out. “I see it, the public sees it, and I honestly think Joe sees it too,”. 

You stay silent for a few seconds, a little taken aback by her observation and not knowing how to respond to her since you can barely make sense of your feelings.

“Oh my god? You like him don’t you?!” She yells as she looks over at you.  

“I don’t knowwww,” you said. “There’s a lot of thoughts in my head right now and I don’t know what to think. I feel like he’s been acting differently around me, like more lovey-dovey differently but I don’t know if I’m reading into it too much,” you respond. 

“Okay, well what are the thoughts in your head saying?”.

“That I think I like him? Or still like him I guess. But I don’t know if he feels the same and I don’t wanna say anything because if he doesn’t, it’ll fuck up our friendship and I can’t lose him,” you say. 

“He’s so sweet and perfect. Joe knows me better than anyone and knows exactly how to cheer me up, calm me down, and make me have fun. I’ve never met anyone like him before and being by his side since day 1 has been a dream but also crazy. And the fact that he hasn't changed since we met is even more crazy. Even with all the money, fame, and attention, he's still Joe. My Joe," you smile. “The same adorable, nerdy, football player that was my lab partner in chemistry freshman year,”.

“Girl, you definitely love him,” your friend says, looking over at you with a straight face.

“Love?” You ask, your heart skipping a beat. 

“Yes, love. You’ve known each other since freshman year of college and if I’m not mistaken, those feelings have been there since then. You’re doing the same thing you did back then, letting your overthinking get in the way. You’re too afraid of losing him as a friend, but Y/N, what if he has the same feelings as you? This isn’t a matter of liking a boy, it’s a matter of you being in love with someone who you’ve had feelings for since you both met. That’s years and years of unanswered feelings that were being built up inside of you and spilling out right now,”. 

Were you in love with Joe? Have you been in love with him all this time? You find yourself smiling as you imagine you and Joe as a couple. Waking up to his adorable smile and sexy morning voice every day, going on cute little dates with him every week around town, kissing him good luck before every game, getting to curl up on the couch with him after every game, and talking about anything and everything together for hours on end without any limitations. It all sounded like a dream, a dream you wished was reality. 

Lydia looked over at your face, seeing you with a huge grin on your face and a blush creeping up on your cheeks.

“I knew it. You love him,” she says as she playfully shoves your shoulder. "There is a reason why none of your relationships work out. The person who you've been waiting for has been right in front of you this entire time,".

“Again, I don’t know,” you giggle. “I don’t wanna say anything to him because I don’t know if he feels the same way,”.

“I get that, I do. You don’t want to risk your friendship, but here’s my advice. Go with the flow. If something’s going to happen, it will. If nothing’s gonna happen, it won’t. Let things unfold naturally and if he’s there and waiting for you at the door, open it and never let him leave,” she says. “And I have a feeling that he’s gonna be at the door,” she adds. 

You spent a few seconds thinking about her advice. She was right, if you weren’t overthinking it and he really did feel the same way about you, he would be there. And if you were overthinking it, and he didn’t feel the same, you would accept it, bury those feelings for real this time, and keep the ball rolling.

You just had to wait and see.

To be continued! 

part 2 coming soon!

#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow fic #joeburrow #joe burrow imagine #nfl imagine

[saleeba]

subha hone na de ; jude bellingham

summary ♡ alexa play moonlight by twice :D

pairing ♡ jude bellingham x south asian/brown!fem!reader

content ♡ fluff, fiancé!jude, asian wedding shenanigans, jude in a black kurta (brown ppl will know that this is a trope in itself 😌), y/c/n = your cousin's name, lovergirl!reader, the moon as a symbol of beauty, tiny social media au at the end, bollywood fans this one's for u !! 🗣🗣

a/n ♡ ahhhh my first brown girl reader fic & i’m so excited for u all to read it 🥰🥰 the reason i used both south asian and brown as descriptors for the reader is bc i wanted to include the girlies of the diaspora like the caribbean/fiji/south africa/south east asia etc & tbh i wasn’t sure if any person of south asian descent preferred to describe themselves as either ‘south asian’ or as ‘brown’ !! also pls note that this is a very broad & non-specific portrayal of a person from “south asian culture” - that is to say that bc south asia is made up of numerous ethnicities, religions, cultures etc i don’t want to show disrespect by lumping them all together nor do i intend the reader to be from a certain south asian background! i tried to keep it as “general” (?) as possible esp when it came to the clothing but pls let me know if u would like to see elements of a specific culture or religion in a future south asian/brown!reader fic !! ALSO oml ik my a/ns are always so long 😭 but the title is a reference to one of my fav bollywood songs <3 it’s an absolute BANGER & it translates to “let there be no morning/don’t allow the dawn to arrive” which i think ties in nicely to this fic :D pls enjoy & lmk what u think!!! 🫶🏽💛

—

“alright… how do i look, babe?” your fiancé asks, emerging from the bedroom into the ensuite where you’re placing the finishing touches to your simple makeup look as he pats down the black sequinned kurta you’ve picked out for your cousin’s at-home henna ceremony tonight. his personal choice to pair it with a golden necklace and a watch to match makes the whole look pop against the summer-tanned tone of his skin. 

you’re careful not to blind yourself with the eyeliner in your hand once you catch even the smallest glimpse of him in the mirror. it’s safe to say that if you were a cartoon character, there’d be hearts protruding from your eyeballs, all pink and comically large. 

“you look amazing, jude, so handsome,” you beam at him, genuinely in awe of how good he looks in your culture’s clothing, not that it’s the first time you’ve seen jude wearing such a thing. over the years that the two of you have been dating, you’ve introduced him to so many facets of your heritage, sharing parts of yourself that were inseparably you – and jude has embraced and immersed himself in everything like he was born into that same culture. 

your fiancé smiles right back at you before replying. “have to make sure i look good in front of my wife’s family now, don’t i?” 

you struggle to stifle the schoolgirl-like giggle that racks through your chest at his words, still not able to be used to the word ‘wife’ coming out of jude’s mouth while referring to you, despite you not even being that yet. truth be told, it’s almost been a month since jude proposed and although you both agreed to wait for some time before telling fans and the media, he’s been calling you his wife around friends and family ever since he got down on one knee, resulting in your bashful smile and blushing cheeks becoming the subject of their teasing every time. 

“true, yeah, can’t have the aunties gossiping about how you have zero drip.” 

your joking is met with a childish sticking out of jude’s tongue before he’s shooed out of the bathroom, leaving you to complete your makeup and don the black and gold outfit that matches jude’s for tonight. 

***

your cousin had told everyone that she wanted a very lowkey and relaxed henna function, especially since weddings from your culture tend to be incredibly busy—almost chaotically so—and she has the opportunity of her other nuptial ceremonies to go all out anyway, hence tonight’s dress code being as equally relaxed and minimal. in spite of all that, you’ve taught jude that celebrations in your culture and the word ‘lowkey’ are nothing but oxymorons of each other so he isn’t surprised when you both walk in to see the bridal home all decked out in bright lights and flower garlands the colours of a vivid spring and ten times the guests he was anticipating to see all bumbling about the place. what does surprise jude is when you inform him that you’ve been appointed as a “chief henna artist” (in the words of the bride) last minute so now he’s been abandoned; left to the mercy of your relatives who haven’t seen him for all of three months and so decide to hound him with every question under the sun.

“tell us how it was winning the champions league, jude!”

“jude, any plans for the wedding yet?”

“uncle jude, come play in the garden with us! please, uncle jude, please!

“is it true mbappé’s going to madrid? do you have his number?!” 

“ooh, can you give me mbappé’s number?!”

jude fights the urge to jet past everyone and run out the front door screaming and flailing his arms, the blaring music and onslaught of inquiries getting to him, and instead peeks over the heads of the crowd around him to try and silently get your attention because as much as he loves your family, he’s praying you can be his knight in shining black and gold to save him from their unwarranted fixation right now. Unfortunately, he’s met with the sight of you fully concentrated on working on your cousin’s bridal henna, having teamed up with another cousin to meticulously draw intricate patterns across her arms and feet. oh, he’s going to have to get comfortable with the company of your relatives for at least the next three hours then. 

***

those three hours turn into five by the time jude is done having a kickabout in the garden with your younger family members, detailing the night his club were champions of europe once again and politely declining the chance to leak the kylian mbappé’s phone number to your niece. not that he’s at his wits’ end (he kind of really is) but jude thinks he’d do good to be in your company as the clock tolls eleven so he opts out of another game of footy to go and look for you, much to the amusement of your relatives who lightheartedly taunt him about the way he can’t stay away from his fiancée for even a short while. 

passing into the living room once again, jude finds you right where he left you but this time, it’s your henna that’s being painted onto the palms of your hands, the design so complex and elaborate that some of the already-dried parts look richly brick-ish red against your skin tone. under the twinkling fairy lights and waves of marigold flowers, jude can’t help but imagine it’s your nuptials being celebrated here; sitting so prettily like you’re what everyone came here to see and honestly? he can’t wait until it’s time for you to be just that. 

“hi, again. remember me?” he jests, taking a seat on the floor cushion next to where you’re sat with your arms sprawled out as your cousin decorates them with muddy green paste. 

“hmm, remind me who you are again?” you feign a confused look. 

“ouch. is that ring on your finger not good enough of a reminder, mrs bellingham?” 

“nope, the diamond’s too small.”

“oi!” 

the laughter that erupts from the both of you even has your cousin joining in, jude breaking the giggle fits to ask an all-important question. 

“have you eaten yet? you’ve been sat here the whole night doing this.” 

shaking your head, you gesture towards the now empty bottle of water sitting by your feet that you’d been rationing throughout the evening and tell him that's all you’ve been filling your stomach with, way too busy with doing the bride’s henna then an aunty’s then a cousin’s then another aunty and then the next after that to even move from your spot in the lounge.

jude determines that that won’t do and offers to make you a plate of food that your elders had just topped up the buffet table with. you comply and ask him to get enough food for you to share. 

between mouthfuls and munching of samosas—jude doing the super important job of biting the corner of a samosa and blowing the savoury pastry cool enough for you to take a bite—and sweetmeats, your cousin works hard at completing the henna art on your left hand, and there’s just the matter of a couple of fingers left before she utters a heartfelt apology and comments that her hand is about to cramp from holding cones of henna for so long.

“that’s okay! go grab a break and then if you’re still up for it, you can finish it later,” you say sincerely, encouraging her to go hang out with other parts of the family before she loses her mind in swirls and paisley patterns like you nearly have. “or i can always get someone else to do it!”

“can i have a go?” 

the way jude pipes up, mouth stuffed with chocolate barfi like a child who's just found the cookie jar, has you and your cousin whipping your heads towards him and then at each other, sharing the slightest of sceptical looks. 

“oh god, will we need to get the stencils out for him, y/n?” your cousin japes – well, she believes she is but the thought of her painstaking work being destroyed by a guy who, although creates art with a football, cannot draw anything further than a stick person makes her nervous, to say the least. 

“hey!” jude wants to advocate for his art skills right here, right now. “i’ve been watching you do it all just now, i’ll just copy the exact same thing for the last two fingers, right?”

you pipe in as his supporting act. “he makes a very good case, your honour.”

your cousin surrenders to the pair of you, essentially fleeing the scene with mutters of “better not mess it up, bellingham” and you both know she’s deadly serious. 

“still not too late to get the stencils, y’know?” you watch as your fiancé struggles with holding the henna cone correctly.

“no, no, i’ve got this, babe,” he remarks before almost smudging the still-wet design on your palm with his fingers. “oh shit!”

“jude!”

your heart nearly jumps out of your mouth at the sight.  

“It’s fine, love, see!” jude points to an edge that’s ever so slightly smudged from the commotion. “all good. now, close your eyes.” 

“you’re joking!” you squeak out incredulously, fearful of whatever is going on in that mad mind of his. you do not want to face the wrath of your cousin on a night that’s going so well. 

“please, babe!” your grown fiancé looks like a kid trying to prove himself to his mum right now with the way his already puppy-dog eyes grow wider. “i promise it’ll look good, just… close your eyes, please?” 

“ok, fine!” trying not to let reluctance get in the way, you’re now the one surrendering to jude’s request as your eyes close without any further argument.. “i’m telling y/c/n to kill you and not me if this doesn’t go to plan.”

a small chuckle is the only thing you can hear from jude before he gets to work, spending more minutes than you can count on your henna-adorned fingers as he drags the cool paint over your digits, questions of whether you can open your eyes yet meet with shushes and oftentimes you hear yourself hissing when jude tugs your skin with the pointed tip of the cone instead of hovering slightly above with it. 

“aaand we’re done! you have my permission to open your eyes.” as soon as you do, you’re met with the sight of a very smug, very excited jude bellingham who gestures towards your left hand where… wow, the design is beautiful. it’s the tiniest bit clumsy, just where the lines are supposed to be straight, but it mirrors exactly what your cousin had painted on your right hand, the pattern set in its curls and dots and spirals.

“i did a little something extra, too. i hope y/c/n doesn’t mind but i think you’ll like it.”

“yeah? you’re gonna have to help me find it then, babe,” you say, already scanning over the artwork he’s created to try and find what mystery he’s left behind. 

“actually, that’s supposed to be your job.” your fiancé replies, his smile a little more bashful and voice a little softer. “it’s my name, i wrote it in there for you to find—”

“really?! where?!” you ask albeit rhetorically as your eyes now frantically run all over your left hand in search of where jude has inscribed his own name. 

a few seconds pass before they do a double-take over where your engagement ring sits on your finger, just there, just to the right of it along the crook of where your finger meets the back of your palm. there is it — the print so whimsically curled and sweetly small that it looks like it fits right in with the rest of the henna design. jude. 

“where did you learn all this?” you’re tearing up just the slightest over it all, glad no one is within earshot of you two for you would’ve been teased to no end tonight. 

your fiancé shrugs nonchalantly at your question before explaining everything. “i did some research after proposing and read about it. i know, originally, you’re supposed to be the one that knows and i’m the one that looks for it but i thought this would be cute.”

“it was cute— so cute,” you beam across at jude, the hearts in your eyes back again over how willing he is to throw himself into your cultural traditions and quirks, even learning things unprompted and without your encouragement. you thank your lucky stars that you found yourself a life partner who’s so unabashed in not just learning about your heritage but incorporating it into your lives. in a way, he’s been healing that little girl who grew up ashamed and embarrassed of her culture, wishing she was someone else, something else, and helping her become a woman who proudly wears it without giving anyone else ownership. 

a chorus of “uncle jude! uncle jude!” rings through the living room as your younger relatives, all pumped up on sugar at around midnight (oh well, it is the time for festivities anyway), run in, dragging your fiancé away from you before you two can exchange any more words. you settle with a shared knowing look and smile, leaving you to get your henna dried and jude to commence round 2 of another football match. 

***

there are only so many probing questions from aunties and uncles and instances of your cousin bitching about her situationship that you can take as your henna dries in, what are now, two makeshift cling-film casts to help strengthen the colour before you’re bothered by the lack of jude by your side as the clock tolls just past two in the morning. after sifting through possibly the entire family tree dotted throughout the house, you’re directed by an uncle to the balcony where jude’s standing hunched over the railing, gazing into the sky where the moon illuminates the earth, peeking from behind a sliver of cloud dust. 

“hey, you,” you speak softly so as not to startle the peaceful moment that’s now given you a break from the hubbub inside.

jude whips his head towards the voice, instantly grinning at the sight of you, so beautiful in the moonshine, before extending an arm to pull you into his side. 

“i see the moon’s out tonight,” you muse, not taking your eyes off him one bit as he continues to stare up into the sky.

“looks beautiful, right?” 

“yeah, he does.” you daren’t unlock your gaze from the way jude glows in the moonlight, the cool tone sitting over his skin and bringing more attention to the bridge of his nose and the highest points of his cheekbones. oh, how you want to spend the rest of the night laying kisses across them. 

��he? oh—” he turns to find your pretty eyes, lit equally as bright by the natural light, not even having budged an inch from his face as he realises you’re not talking about that moon. “shut up!”

you laugh as he blushes like a smitten teenage boy, a sight not too unfamiliar since that’s exactly what he was when the two of you started dating. 

“what, can’t a girl be romantic with her husband?” you act out a sweet pout, the sight and your words making jude’s heart skip a beat or three.

“you are so lucky your family isn’t here to take the piss.”

another set of giggles from the pair of you as you cuddle into jude’s side, both now facing the moon that you swear is shining way brighter than before, the cloud in front of it nearly dissipating into non-existence. 

“i love you, mrs bellingham,” jude breaks the serene silence. “i can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.” he places the gentlest of kisses on your ring finger, lips ghosting just over the cling-film-covered diamond ring. the scene would’ve been amusing had it not been for the tender romance of the moment, a few minutes to get away from the beloved chaos of family celebrations and to pretend the whole world rotated on its axis, served its purpose, for only jude and you. 

“i love you, too. so much, jude.”

you sigh into the warming summer air, silently asking the sun to rise a little later so that you can fawn over your lover's features in the moonlight for as much time as you wanted.

—

yourusername • 18h

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yourusername celebrating love with my love 💒

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judebellingham can’t wait for our turn 💍❤️

↳ yourusername ilysm 🥹❤

user1 THE LAST PIC????????? RUE,,,, WHEN WAS THIS????

user2 🥳🥳🥳CONGRATULATIONSSS🥳🥳🥳 (i’m gatecrashing the wedding)

trentalexanderarnold best man position still vacant? 🫣

↳ jobebellingham unfortunately no 🙄

user3 we need the proposal story asap!!!

↳ user4 and a whole album worth’s of pictures too !!!!!

#me when the black kurta-wearing baddie tells me to do smth: 🫡🫡🫡🫡🫡🫡🫡 #this exact post has been festering in my drafts since nov 2023 pleaseeee #real ones will remember this was supposed to be a smut lmao i’m so glad i went down this routine instead!!! <33 #i do have to say that it’s sooo hard finding non “north indian/pakistani” inspo pics on pinterest even if u do search for specific cultures #+ dark skinned south asian content is basically non existent which makes me sooo frustrated so im so sorry for the rlly limited visuals :(( #jude bellingham #jude bellingham fluff #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham x fem!reader #jude bellingham x south asian reader #football imagine #footballer imagine #footballer fluff #football smau

[footballfanficwriter]

1st to many

Summary:where Jude wins his first Champions league trophy

The atmosphere in the stadium was electric. The roar of the crowd was almost deafening, but all I could focus on was the man in the white home kit moving effortlessly across the pitch. Jude. My husband. The love of my life. Our son, Louis, was bouncing excitedly beside me, his little hands clutching the edges of his seat as he watched his father in awe. As nerve-wracking as he was the day before, I could see his determination and focus now.

"Mommy, look at Daddy! He's so fast!" Louis exclaimed, his eyes wide with admiration.

I smiled down at him, ruffling his curly hair. "Yes, sweetheart. Daddy's amazing, isn't he?"

The match was intense, a true nail-biter. Real Madrid were fighting for every inch of the field, and it seemed like the entire stadium held its breath each time the ball neared the goal. My heart pounded with every pass, every tackle, and every shot. Then, in the 67th minute, it happened. A corner kick delivered by Toni Kroos in the air headed the ball and sent the it  sailing into the net. The stadium erupted into cheers, and I found myself screaming along with them, tears of joy streaming down my face at the end of the game it was 0-2 and Madrid had won

"They did it, Louis! They won!" I shouted, scooping him into my arms and spinning him around.

Louis giggled, his excitement matching mine. "Daddy's the best!"

As the final whistle blew, confirming their victory, the players collapsed onto the field, exhausted but triumphant. The commentator's voice echoed through the stadium, announcing the team's first Champions League win in 2 years. The player's names were chanted by thousands of fans, but Jude's  eyes searched the stands until they found us. He gave a little wave, and I blew him a kiss, mouthing the words, "I'm so proud of you."

After a few minutes of celebration on the pitch, Jude was called for a short post-match interview. He stood there, still catching his breath, as the interviewer began.

"Jude, congratulations on your incredible win! How are you feeling right now?"

"Thank you so much. Honestly, it's hard to put into words. This victory means the world to me. The adrenaline is still pumping, and I'm just overwhelmed with joy and gratitude."

"You've mentioned before that your family's support means everything to you. Can you tell us more about that?"

"Absolutely. My wife and our son, Louis, they're my rock. They've been with me every step of the way, cheering me on through the highs and lows. I couldn't have achieved this without them."

"And how does it feel to have them here with you tonight?"

"It's everything. Knowing they're in the stands, supporting me, it gives me that extra boost of motivation. Louis's face lights up when he sees me on the pitch, and my wife, she's my anchor. I'm just so grateful to have them by my side."

"You've certainly made a lot of people proud tonight. Any final words?"

"I just want to thank everyone who's supported me along this journey, especially my family. This win is as much theirs as it is mine. And to Y/n , I love you more than words can express. Thank you for being my rock, my everything."

"Any plans for the rest of the evening?"

"Just soaking it all in, really. I'm just happy. Now, I have to go and find my wife and son. They're waiting for me, and I can't wait to celebrate with them."

With that, Jude's eyes sparkled with excitement, and he bid the interviewer farewell before quickly making his way to the stands, where Louis and I were eagerly waiting for him.

"You did it, Daddy!" Louis squealed, wrapping his arms around Jude's neck.

Jude laughed, pulling him close. "We did it, little man. We did it."

Then he turned to me, his eyes glistening with tears of joy. He reached out and pulled me into a tight embrace. "I couldn't have done it without you," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion.

I stroked his back, feeling his body tremble with relief and happiness. "I'm so proud of you, Jude. You've worked so hard for this."

He hugged me tighter, burying his face in my shoulder. "Don't let go," he murmured. "I just want to take this moment in."

We stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, as the world celebrated around us. As he pulled back slightly, I noticed the goosebumps on his arms. "Aren't you cold?" I asked, concerned. "You can take my jacket."

He shook his head, a wide smile on his face. "No, it's fine. The adrenaline is keeping me warm. I'm okay."

We laughed, and I kissed him softly, feeling the warmth of his lips. He took my hand, and together we walked onto the field, Louis perched happily on Jude's shoulders. The stadium was a whirlwind of celebration, with fans cheering, confetti falling, and cameras flashing. We joined Jude's teammates and their families, sharing hugs and congratulations. Louis quickly found some of the other children and started playing, their laughter ringing out across the field.

"Can you believe this?" Jude asked, his voice filled with wonder as he watched Louis and the other kids running around, pretending to be their football heroes.

I smiled, squeezing his hand. "It's surreal. I'm so happy for you, Jude. You've achieved your dream."

He leaned in and kissed my forehead. "And I couldn't have done it without you. Your support, your love—it means everything to me."

We continued our tour, mingling with the other players and their wives. When Toni came over with his wife, and their three children.

"Congratulations, Jude!" Toni said, clapping Jude on the back. "You were incredible out there."

"Thanks, mate," Jude replied, smiling broadly. "We all were. It was a team effort, just sad to see you go man.

"I know, but my time has come it's time for me to make room for the next Generation, I need to make room for people like you"

Jude smiled at Toni and they embraced eachother when all of a sudden

Toni's  hugged me, her eyes shining. "How are you holding up? That was an intense match!"

I laughed, still feeling the adrenaline coursing through me. "I'm just so relieved it's over and that they won! It's like a dream come true."

Our conversation was interrupted by Louis running over, his cheeks flushed with excitement. "Mommy, Daddy, look! I'm playing with the big kids!"

Jude laughed, lifting him up. "You're doing great, buddy. One day, you might be out here playing for real."

Louis's eyes sparkled. "Really, Daddy? You think I can?"

"Of course, I do," Jude said, ruffling his hair. "With hard work and determination, you can do anything."

As we walked around the pitch, we took photos and videos to capture every precious moment. Jude and I posed with the trophy, Louis standing proudly between us, his tiny hands resting on the gleaming cup.

"This is for the memories," Jude said, his voice soft and full of emotion as he snapped a selfie of us.

"For the memories," I echoed, my heart swelling with love and pride.

Later, we joined the other families in a group photo, everyone beaming with joy. The children were all gathered in front, their smiles bright and infectious. It was a beautiful scene, one that embodied the spirit of teamwork, dedication, and love.

As the celebrations slowly wound down, we found a quiet moment to sit together on the grass, watching Louis play nearby with the other kids.

"Can you believe this?" Jude asked, his voice filled with wonder. "We did it."

I leaned my head on his shoulder, feeling his warmth and strength. "Yes, we did. And I couldn't be happier."

Jude wrapped his arm around me, holding me close. "This is just the beginning," he said. "With you and Louis by my side, I feel like I can achieve anything."

I smiled, feeling a deep sense of contentment. "We'll always be here for you, Jude. No matter what."

As we sat there, surrounded by the remnants of celebration and the echoes of cheers, I knew that this moment would be etched in our hearts forever. It was the culmination of years of hard work, sacrifice, and unwavering support. And it was a testament to the power of love and family.

Jude glanced down at his phone, which had been buzzing with messages of congratulations. He smiled and took a quick selfie of us, capturing our joy and love in that perfect moment. "For the memories," he said, showing me the photo.

I nodded, my heart swelling with love. "For the memories," I echoed.

As the night drew to a close, we gathered our things and made our way off the pitch. Louis was half-asleep in Jude's arms, worn out from all the excitement. We walked hand-in-hand, leaving the stadium behind but carrying the night's magic with us.

In the car, Jude looked back at the stadium one last time, a look of fulfillment and determination on his face. "This is just the beginning," he repeated, more to himself than to me.

I squeezed his hand, feeling the strength of our bond and the promise of our future. "And we'll be with you every step of the way."

As we drove home, the city lights shining brightly around us, I knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together. Jude had achieved his dream, and in doing so, he had shown us all the true power of perseverance, love, and family.

When we arrived home, Louis was sound asleep in Jude's arms. Jude carried him upstairs and gently placed him in his bed, tucking him in with a kiss on his forehead. I stood in the doorway, watching this tender moment, my heart swelling with love.

"You really are an amazing father," I whispered as Jude joined me, closing Louis's door softly.

He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close. "And you're an amazing mother and wife. I couldn't have done any of this without you."

We walked to our bedroom, the excitement of the day slowly giving way to a peaceful calm. As we got ready for bed, Jude turned to me, his eyes filled with a deep, abiding love.

Jude and I lie in bed, still buzzing from the excitement of the day's events. I open my phone and scroll through social media, reading the countless messages of congratulations and admiration for Jude and our family. People are buzzing about how Jude celebrated his first Champions League victory with his family, highlighting his heartfelt words about us in the interview.

I read some of the headlines aloud to Jude:

“Jude Bellingham’s Heartwarming Tribute to His Family After Champions League Win”

“Jude Bellingham Celebrates Victory with Wife and Son – Fans Are Melting!”

“Champions League Hero: Jude Bellingham’s Emotional Speech on Family and Success”

“Jude Bellingham’s Adorable Celebration with His Wife and Son Captivates Fans”

“Jude Bellingham Dedicates Champions League Win to His Loving Family”

Switching to Instagram, I see a flood of comments under the photos and videos we posted:

jobebellingham: You guys are such an amazing family! So happy for you! 🥰

toby: What a beautiful moment! You and Jude are an inspiration. ❤️

noah: This is what football is all about. Much love to you and your family! 💪🏽👏🏽

vinijr: Seeing the love between you guys is incredible. Congrats! 🙌🏽✨

camavinga: Your support for Jude is everything. Proud of you all! 💖🙌🏽

lukamodric10: Family goals right here. Enjoy this moment! 🏆💫

toni.kr8s: Such a beautiful family. Well deserved win! 😊🙌🏽

rodrygogoes: So much love in these photos. Congratulations! ❤️🔥

toniruediger: Amazing to see you guys so happy. Well done! 👏🏽👏🏽

dani.carvajal2: What a night! Beautiful family moments. Congrats! 🎉💪🏽

ferland_mendy: So happy for you guys! Enjoy the victory! ⚽❤️

nachofi1990: Family and football, the perfect combination. Congrats! 👏🏽😊

alaba_david: Beautiful to see you all so happy. Big congrats! 🌟🙌🏽

davidluiz_4: This is what dreams are made of! Congrats to you all! 🌟❤️

sergioramos: Family first, always. Proud of you, brother! 💪🏼👨‍👩‍👦‍👦

karimbenzema: Seeing you celebrate with your family warms my heart. Congrats, Jude! 🙌🏽💯

raphaelvarane: Beautiful family moments. Congratulations on the win, Jude! 🎉🏆

edenhazard: You're an inspiration, Jude. Congratulations to you and your lovely family! 🌟💖

thibautcourtois: Enjoy these special moments with your loved ones, Jude. You deserve it! 🥂👏🏼

nachofernandez: Family is everything. Congrats on the win, mate! 🙌🏼👨‍👩‍👦

scoalarcon: Seeing you celebrate with your family is priceless. Well done, Jude! 🎉👨‍👩‍👦

federicovalverde: Family time is the best time. Congrats, Jude! 🥳👨‍👩‍👦

eder_militao: Cherish these moments forever, Jude. Congrats 🏆💖

vasquez91: You guys are the definition of #FamilyGoals. Congrats, Jude! 🎉💑

I turn to Jude, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips. "Can you believe this?" I say, my voice filled with wonder.

Jude wraps his arms around me, pulling me close. "I can't believe any of this," he says, his voice soft with awe. "But I know one thing for sure—I couldn't have asked for a better team to share it with."

I snuggle closer to him, feeling his warmth enveloping me and he kisses my forehead. In this moment, surrounded by love and joy, I know that no matter what the future holds, we'll always have each other.

#football fanfic #romance #world cup #x reader #fan fiction #football #love #soccer fanfiction #imagine #reader #jude bellingham imagine #judebellingham #jude x reader #jude #jude bellingham #jude bellingham fanfiction #jude bellingham x reader #jude victor willliam bellingham #bellingham #real madrid #jude victor william bellingham #belligol #judebellingham fanfic #judebellingham fanfiction #soccer fan fiction #englandsquad #hot footballers #so hot 🔥🔥🔥 #footballer #fanfiction

[hanniebaeee]

Always You

Best friend's brother Lee Know x fem!reader

Warning: Just a bit of kissing.

Summary: You're in trouble and the first person you call is your best friend's brother, Minho.

Minho sat scrolling absent-mindedly through his phone as a movie played on the TV in the background. He was lonely and everyone he knew seemed to be busy. His best friends are out with their partners. His sister was on a date. He had no idea where you were. He wondered what you were up to. It's been a few weeks since you guys spoke and he missed you.

Placing the phone on his lap, he looked back at the tv and sighed. This is so boring.

He glanced down at his phone as it vibrated on his lap. His heart skipped a beat as your name flashed on the screen. He was quick to grab it, pressing it to his ear.

'Y/N?'

Your breathing wasn't right. You were stuttering and crying and he was on his feet, already moving out of the living room.

'Minho? Minho, oh my god!' You couldn't form words as your sobs took over.

'Y/N, where are you? Are you hurt?' Minho's questions were urgent as he was already out of his apartment, speed walking to his car.

'Minho, I don't know where I am. I'm so scared, can you please come and get me? Please?' You cry and his heart sank.

'Jagi, send me your location and sit tight, yeah? I'm on my way.' Minho said, waiting and looking at your location.

'Are you hurt? What happened?!' He asked, driving - already skipping a red light.

'I fell and I think I twisted my ankle... I'm not even dressed right, Minho. I'm, I'm -'

'It's ok. I'm on my way.' Minho said, trying to console you.

His heart was racing as he sped through to find you. You were his younger sister's best friend. Your family had moved to Korea when you were in middle school and you all grew up together. Being a foreigner had been hard and you did face some level of bullying and racism at school, but Minho and his sister, Hana had been your pillars of support. Minho was fiercely protective over you both and it never channged even as you got older.

You and Hana were still best of friends. Minho had moved out of his family home after college, but he did stay in the same city. You and Hana too worked nearby, so you all met every now and then. It's been a while now, and he couldn't help but feel a flood of emotions course through his body as he thought of you.

Minho has had a soft spot for you for years. Hana teased him endlessly for this. And he was sure that was a little in love with you. He tried his best to ignore these feelings as he didn't want to complicate your relationship. You were one of the nicest persons he knew - you were kind, you were so caring and loyal and above everything, you were always there.

Unknown to Hana, he called you whenever he felt like things were getting out of hand. On his most stressful days, he would ask you to come over, you would share a drink and hold his hand until his calmed down. Nothing more, nothing less. You gave him support. You gave him your time and your presence, no matter when he wanted it. And you never asked for more.

Minho looked at the map and saw that he was close. His eyes fell on your shivering form at the side of a secluded road. Stopping the car, he was out in an instant, making his way over to you.

'Y/N!'

Your head snapped up and you were crying harder at the sight of him. He was on his knees in front of you, hugging you tightly. Pulling back, he checked you for any injuries and then he saw you swollen ankle. You wore a navy blue sequined dress that fell to your mid thigh and heels - you never liked heels. You were way too clumsy on them. You shivered and Minho quickly draped his jacket over your exposed shoulders before helping you stand. You wince in pain and said, 'I don't think I can walk, Minho. I'm so sorry, I can't-'

You weren't even done talking, when he picked you up bridal style, making you gasp. After helping you into the passenger seat safely, Minho was driving again.

'What happened?' He asked.

'I had a fight with Lisa. She dragged me to a party and tried to set me up with her friend. She said some really mean things when I refused, she kinda forced me and...I said I wanted to go home, she agreed to drive, but then, ditched me in the middle of the road. We fought again and she kinda pushed me. These stupid heels-'

'What kind of friends do you keep Y/N?!' Minho scolded, glaring at you. 'Why wasn't Hana aware of this?'

'Hana had plans, I didn't want to bother her' You said sadly.

'Its just a date Y/N. You always come first.' Minho said.

'Im sorry Minho. My dad is out of town and if my parents ever knew, they would never let me out of the house again. You know them... Yours was the only face that came to my mind when -' You pull at your dress self-consciously, trying to cover your thighs as much as possible.

You fall silent and Minho looks at you for a second before his eyes are back on the road. His heart fluttered at the thought. He was the only one you thought of. He placed a hand on your knee, patting gently.

'I'm sorry i got mad. I was so worried when you called crying. I don't even know how I got here.' Minho said with a sigh. 'How does the ankle feel?'

'It's ok, Lino.' You said, and smile as you see a small smile on his face. 'My ankle hurts though.'

He takes you straight to the emergency room, where you get your ankle looked at and bandaged. He carried you to the car even though you told him a hundred times that you can just take a wheelchair. Then he takes you to his apartment, and orders some food.

You sit on his sofa, watching him plate up the food and hand your plate to you. You eat in silence, his eyes not leaving you.

'What?' You ask, feeling the heat creep up your neck.

'Why was Lisa trying to set you up with some random guy?' Minho asked, eyebrows furrowed.

'She's like that. She thinks I don't date anyone 'coz I can't get a date on my own.' You said, chewing on your food. 'She can't wrap her head around the fact that maybe I don't want to, you know.'

'Why don't you want to?' Minho asked, keeping his plate on the coffee table and turning to face you.

'I just-' You contemplate whether it's safe to say the truth or not. 'Lino, you know why.'

'I do?' Minho asked, and you know he does. He just didn't want to acknowledge anything.

'Don't you?' You ask, tilting your head in question. 'After all this time?'

'I need to hear you say it.' Minho said, moving closer.

'Why won't you say it?' You ask, your heart hurting at his avoidance. 'Don't I come running anytime you need me? I'm always here aren't I? You've always known. Since high school, Lino.'

'Y/N-'

'Don't tell me that you don't think about that camping trip. If you pretend that it didn't happen, it won't go away.' You say, tears blurring your vision.

You were in your first year of college and you had gone on a camping trip with Hana and Minho. The siblings went on to fight throughout the day and by nighttime, Hana refused to even sleep in the same tent. But they literally had no other option, so you offered to sleep in the middle to which they reluctantly agreed. Late into night, you heard sniffling and turned to face Minho, who was in tears.

'Lino, what happened?' You whispered, moving closer to him.

'Hana thinks I'm not a good brother. My father thinks I'm not a good son. Im just a fucking failure-'

'Yah, what are you even talking about?!' You asked, pulling your hand out from under your blanket to wipe at his tears. 'Hana just wanted to win the fight. You know that.'

'They keep doing this. They keep telling me I'm not good enough!'

'Lino, you're good enough. More than good actually. People say mean things just to ruffle you when you're right. I'm sure they don't even mean it. Don't you trust me?' You asked, cupping his cheek with your hand. 'You're the best.'

Minho wiped the tears off his face and opened his arms.

'Can we cuddle?' He asked. 'Please?'

You stare at him, surprised. You've never done this before. But you nod and settle underneath his blanket, your back presses to his chest. He makes a cocoon with the blanket around you, his arms tight around you. Sleep comes almost immediately in his warm embrace. But late into the night, you turn around in your sleep, and open your eyes as your nose touched his.

He opens his eyes too, both your faces so close - noses touching, lips so so close. His eyes drop to your lips and his arms around you tighten, pulling you as close as humanly possible. You let it happen - his lips are so soft and warm and gentle on yours.

'It's so fucking hot!' Hana's loud voice had you both jumping apart. Minho turned to the other side, breathing heavily and you remained silent as Hana sat up and tossed her jumper to the side. The next morning, the siblings apologized and made up. You and Minho never spoke of this incident after that day. But you both knew that deep down, you were both in love.

'I was afraid' Minho said, slowly. 'I didn't even know if you wanted to kiss me back. I felt like I had just done it and you didn't even have a chance to push me away. And then Hana woke up and-'

'You're an idiot if you thought I didn't want that.' You said, shaking your head. 'If I felt violated that day, I won't be here every time you wanted my company, Minho.'

Minho nodded and sighed.

'I don't want to ruin anything, Y/N. Hana loves you a lot and I can't-'

'Hana knows that I like you, you pabo.' You said and he stared at you like you had sprouted horns.

'She doesn't mind, does she?.' Minho said.

'Oh no, she loves the idea of us together.' You said, wanting to laugh at how clueless he could be sometimes.

'Why do you both always torture me like this?' Minho asked, running a hand over his face.

'Because you think you're too rough and tough, but you're just a cute little idiot.'

'Right. Good reason to torture someone.'

You shrug.

'So, what happens now?' You ask.

Minho looked at you, and his mind and heart were both very clear about one thing - he wasn't going to let you slip out of his hands again. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

'I'm gonna love you. We have wasted a lot of time, baby. I'm not gonna sit here and waste anymore.'

Your eyes shine with happy tears as he hugs you and kisses you.

'I love you, Lino.' You mumbled against his neck. 'Never letting you go.'

'I love you more, jagi' he said, placing little kisses on the top of your head. He carries you to his bedroom and helps you get changed into some of Hana's pyjamas. You couldn't help but smile as he climbed into bed and settled down beside you. He kissed you more until you were both too tired and fell asleep in each other's arms.

Hana: Why didn't you call me?!

Hana: wtf Y/N!

Hana: where the hell are you?!

Y/N: yah, calm down

Y/N: I'm ok, at Lino's now

Hana: what are you doing there this early in the morning?

Hana: Y/N L/N

Y/N: Hana please

Hana: Did you guys talk?? Did you guys...?

Hana: Please say yes, please say yes, please say yes

Y/N: HANA.

Hana: where is that pabo

Y/N: sleeping

Hana: together, I hope

Hana: ew ew ew

Y/N: shut up

Y/N: are you coming over?

Hana: Sure. Be decent please.

Hana: Don't be gross in front of me.

Y/N: We'll be gross. Don't come - your brother.

Y/N: go away

Hana: oh my god, ew

Hana: disgusting

Hana: 🤢🤮

Y/N: be here for breakfast

Hana: You're mine first. Don't forget.

Y/N: of course

Y/N: love you❤

Hana: love you more ❤

a/n : I haven't done this in a long time and I'm soo happy to be writing again! I have like 9000 things in my drafts rn 😭 Feedback is much appreciated❤

#lee know #lee know fluff #lee know x reader #lee know x you #lee know x y/n #lee know x female reader #lee minho #lee minho x reader #lee minho x you #lee minho x y/n #lee minho fluff #lee minho imagines #skz #stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x you

[lorcansalvatterresmate]

Across the Universe-ch.1 (Azriel x reader, eventual Fenrys x reader)

Summary: Y/n has everything she needs in life. A family, friends, a safe place she calls home and most importantly a male whom she loves. What happens when it all changes when Y/n finds out about the betrayal of her lover and her so called family? Well, ending up in Terassen and in queen Aelin's court was not what she expected but what she will need to start her new journey full of surprises.

A/n: hey everyone! so this is my first work on here and I just hope you will enjoy it. Please do not hesitate to comment whether you like it/want more of it or if you have some good constructive criticism to give! I will give some clarifications at the end of this chapter as to not give away any spoilers beforehand:)

Being a female Illyrian with wings was never meant to be easy. Growing up and not knowing your parents was perhaps the greatest pain a child could endure. Especially if that child grows up in a cruel place like the Illyrian camps. For the first 20 years of her life, y/n knew nothing but pain, mistreatment and hatred as she spent her youth at the cruel hands of an old Illyrian bastard. Of course, what y/n went through was never kept as a secret but it is not like anyone cared anyway. This was Illyria, the mistreatment of females was not a surprise. In fact, the vile monsters who called themselves warriors, encouraged it.

And just like any other female unlucky enough to be born in Illyria and have wings, y/n had to get her wings clipped. Even after all those years, that moment that changed everything for y/n is still so vivid in her mind...

The leaves in the forest crunched as his boots kept stepping on them while dragging her through the maze of trees.

"Please, please I beg you do not take my wings!"

He kept on ignoring her. She called him a 'He' because y/n would never willingly say his disgusting name. Not when he was the cause of all her trauma and illnesses. She kept thrashing, begging and trying to get away but it was useless.

"I beg yo-"

Her words were cut short as a slap was delivered to her face.

"Shut you mouth! you useless bitch"

She never begged. No, y/n was strong, even then, at her weakest she was strong. She never begged. Not when he would burn her hands, not when he would whip her back, not when he would beat her up because she forgot to do a chore. But now she begged. She begged for her only form of freedom, her precious wings. At that moment y/n knew what had to be done. This was the last straw.

"Stay like that on your knees and do NOT move, or else you won't like the consequences."

As he turned around to search for his tools, y/n sat there on the ground in the middle of this dark forest just outside the outskirts of the village and knew she could not go down like those before her. For 20 years she submitted to his every will but not now, not again. Weak coward is what she has been and now it was time to change that.

When he turned around, y/n was holding her only form of protection, her pocket knife that she would always hide under her clothes. When he was close enough, y/n gave a final prayer to the mother and attacked him with a sloppy move that would result in either her freedom or death.

"It is time to truly make you bound to me you bi-"

He did not get to finish his words as the knife he did not see in the dark, found its mark in his throat. Crimson red blood was everywhere as that monster choked on his own blood like a damn fool and finally, slumped to the ground.

The rest? Well, the rest became history as y/n left that night with his blood still soaking her own clothes and body and his fresh corpse laying on the ground. She would never let anyone ever dictate her life again. Never would she be weak again. And so, for the next 80 years of her life, y/n went from one place to another and taught herself how to fight and be like a warrior. Her name began spreading around like wildfire, as people started talking of the Illyrian female who not only managed to keep her wings but also killed her abuser.

She helped hundreds, by recruiting victims of different horrible events and teaching them how to fight and protect themselves. Y/n became a legend especially in the eyes of female Illyrians who tried to follow her lead. This was also the reason why y/n one day opened her door to see the High Lord of the Night Court waiting for her. The smile on Rhysands face was blinding as he praised y/n while also telling her about how it was a dream of his to get rid of the old Illyrian traditions and rules set against the females. It was on that eventful day that the High Lord also offered y/n to join his court and make a very impactful visit to Illyria after all these years to help him make those changes.

At the time, it was a huge step for y/n as she delegated her role as a trainer to her first-best student who was more than honored to continue y/n's job in the training academy. When she came to Velaris she was in awe of its beauty and comfort. The inner circle welcomed her with open arms and although y/n was a little distant at first, she soon got along well with everyone and especially Cassian as they trained daily together. It was also the time when the first seeds of her crush on Azriel were planted.

Therefore, by the age of 100, y/n was an official member of the night court, a legendary figure who started to make her changes during her visits to the Illyrian camps. This time, she went in not as a weakling, but as a feared and well-respected fighter, female and most of all, Illyrian. But even with all of the fierce titles that she got, y/n still felt like turning into a small, shy and meek girl whenever Azriel was around. Rhysand sending them together on constant missions did nothing to ease her increasing infatuations with the famed shadowsinger either.

Unfortunately, they got closer during the darkest of times when Rhysand sacrificed himself to protect his court and city from Amarantha. It was then that, Azriel and y/n shared their deepest, most raw and intimate moments with one another while also doing their best to protect the city in which they were locked in thanks to Rhysands wards. Those moments were what led y/n to confess her true feelings to the spymaster during the 4th year of what would be Amarantha's 50 year reign of terror. After that day, they truly became lovers in all aspects that mattered. Even though that unmistakable bond of a mate did not appear, y/n knew it was only a matter of time before they both felt it. There was no other way.

Today, sitting here on her lovers chair in his office, y/n felt proud of herself and her loved ones for overcoming so much. Rhysand and Feyre under the mountain, the war against Hybern, Nesta and Elain becoming high fae, and the attack on Velaris all left many scars both visible and invisible on everyone. Knowing that everyone has finally found some form of happiness and that her lover is safe with her should have made y/n happy, excited even. But as of late, she could not bring herself to feel anything because Azriel was not the male she once knew.

For a very long time now, the shadowsinger has been distancing himself from y/n in favor of spending more time with a specific redheaded priestess, Gwyneth. What was once called the hour of reading by y/n and Az in the comfort of their home, turned into reading with Az and Gwyn in the library. Even during training, Gwyn would respectfully decline y/n or anyone elses offers to train her and would instead ask Azriel to teach her. He would always happily oblige, leaving y/n alone as Cassian trained with Nesta. At first, y/n tried to understand and reason by thinking that since Azriel was the one to save the priestess from facing a terrible fate in the library of Sangravah, it was only fair that she felt safe around him. However, the other priestesses were also saved by Azriel, Cassian and Rhysand and yet, y/n never saw them be as clingy as Gwyn was towards Azriel.

The final nail in the coffin came when Azriel started coming home late and locking himself up in his office and leaving early in the morning. This meant that y/n never saw her lover, let alone kissed or made love to him. That is how it led to her finally coming to his office to wait for him and get some answers to her questions.

"Y/n? W-what are you doing here?"

That slightly nervous voice drew her back into reality as y/n looked back from the window showing the beautiful city, to see Azriel standing in the doorway with dishelved hair and a sort of scared look in his eyes, no matter how much he tried to not show it, y/n knew him like the back of her hand. Being together for 52 years does that to you. This was not a good sign then, for Azriel never showed such a shameful expression and his shadows were nowhere in sight.

As y/n got up from the chair and started walking towards him, her mind and soul clinged onto that last thread of hope that the male whom she loved was not unfaithful to her, that he would explain everything and she would see that she was making silly little assumptions out of nothing.

Unfortunately, all that hope came crashing down as y/n got close enough to him and smelled that scent of another female, that scent that belonged to...Gwyn. And if the small dark marks that were peeking above the spymasters shirt were any indicator, they did more than just read together.

Y/n felt like she was drowning, like a huge mountain just crashed down on her and she was left under all that rubble to suffocate and die. She was frozen in her spot, unfeeling and unmoving as she felt her body shut down completely. Clearly, this only meant that she would shatter soon enough but not here, not in front of him. Never would she ever be weak infront of any male. And so, with a voice that conveyed no emotion, she asked, "How long?"

"Y/n ple-"

"How long, Azriel."

Azriel sighed as he looked anywhere but at her when he said, "Since the first time Nesta brought her to train with us."

"But that was 2 years ago."

After seeing him nod very slightly, she reigned in her tears that were bruning the backs of her eyes, and asked one simple question,

"Why?"

Now it was the shadowsingers turn to look as emotionless as he could while saying, "Because she is my mate y/n."

Mate, mate, mate ofcourse he would have a mate, no matter how many years they were together, neither of them ever felt that bond snap. Foolish, so foolish to think, to hope that they were destined to be, that their bond would snap any moment. But how cruel can one be to hide the truth for 2 years, To go behind her back, even if Gwyn is his mate, and be unfaithful? To not admit the truth as if y/n wouldn't understand. And Gwyn? how could she never once mention it to y/n during all those moments spent together? How, how how..

As if that pain was not enough, Azriel confessed, "I am sorry y/n but truly, did you think we were fated to be? I always knew what we had was temporary, that we were never going to have a happy end as the cauldron would give us both our own mates. My love for you has always only been platonic...have you not noticed that I never once said 'I love you'? I saw you as a friend, a companion in whom I could loose myself for a while as I waited for my mate to come. Truly, you were good, so good to me, kind and caring and yet, so foolish. You imagined and expected too much of us y/n...for you I was a male whom you desperately loved but for me, you were simply someone who I could spend my time with until my mate arrived. I love Gwyn, I have taken her to the house of wind multiple times and made love to her there, I have spent my time understanding and creating as many memories as possible with her. From the moment I saw her 2 years ago when Nesta brought her, I felt this pull towards her and now...now I could never get enough. I do not say this to hurt you, but to make you see the truths that we were never what you wanted us to be."

Y/n took a deep inhale, the only indicator of her emotions at the moment while still processing his words and asked her final question while still staring at the wall behind him, "Who knew?"

Azriel was confused for a minute because after all that he had just confessed, she only asked that? Not to mention how much it was killing him to not understand her current emotions and expressions as y/n stayed completely unflinching, staring at the wall and expecting an answer from him. So, with a shameful sigh, the spymaster replied, "Everyone knew."

At that moment, y/n knew 2 things with clarity. First, never should you trust someone, no matter how close you are with them. Never should you give your heart to someone because in the end, they shall shatter it anyway. In this life, you are always on your own. Y/n has always been alone even after joining Rhys, y/n walked her own lonely road. Second, her "family" were traitorous liars. For the past 2 years as y/n descended back into her depressive moments, as she got flashbacks of those horrible times from her youth spent in the Illyrian village, as her panic attacks and insecurities started to resurface, the inner circle did nothing to pull her out of it. But what else would you expect from them? of course they would protect Azriel and his actions, no matter how disgusti-

"Y/n? please talk to me, I am going mad here with your lack of words and emotions. Please sweetheart." as Azriel's hand made contact with y/n's wrist, it was as if an electric shock brought her back to life.

Y/n slapped him right across the face as she said her next words in a tone so cruel and unfeeling, her enemies did not even hear that tone before meeting their death's at her hands, "If you touch me again, my knife shall find it's mark between your eyes, so unless you do not want to leave your precious mate a widow so soon, I suggest you get the fuck out of my sight, shadowsinger."

"Y/n ple-"

"Oh and, since you are such a loyal dog to him, do tell your rotten high lord that I am leaving his rotten court. I shall be gone by sunrise."

As she turned to leave his office throught he backdoor, Azriel did something that Y/n had never known him capable of doing. He fell on his knees as tears threatened to spill from his eyes and begged in a voice so shaky, y/n could only think whether he was even real.

"Y/n I beg you, let us talk properly, Gwyn kept telling me how I must let you know. That she hates being a secret but I was such a coward I-I..plea-"

"I do not care what Gwyn has to say. Save your tears and pleas for someone who cares Azriel, you are right, you are a coward and perhaps you always were one for playing with my feelings in such a cruel way. Do not come after me or I swear I won't hesitate to end you with my bare hands."

With that, y/n turned her back on the male for whom she would once move the mountains for, for whom she would sacrifice herself for. The male whom she loved so much and yet, this whole time he toyed with her, he saw her as a placeholder. What a blind fool have you been y/n.

The second y/n made sure that Azriel left the house, she broke down in tears. For the first time in a very long time, y/n cried unstoppable tears. But that moment came to an abrupt end as she heard a voice. Whether it was within her mind or from somewhere else she did not know and did not care because even though the voice sounded so far away, she got this immediate urge within her soul to go find it.

Deep down, y/n knew she should let it be, that she is possibly imagining things and that she should start packing now but that urge within her tightened as if wanting her to go find the source of the voice. So, with a final wipe of her tears, y/n stood and leapt through her window, spreading her wings and following that string to reach the distant voice.

As y/n began nearing the source of the sound, she realized that it is coming from the house of wind. She should have turned around and left at that second because seeing this house now only brought back Azriels words about how he spent his time here with Gwyn. Atleast that is what the y/n who was not possesed by an urge would do. But alas, this thread only grew stronger within her, leaving her no other choice.

As she began walking down the halls of the house, y/n looked back on all her memories with the inner circle here. Once, those memories would have made her smile fondly but now, they only make her feel anger and disgust. They knew this whole time...such liars, such tra-

No...this could not be it. The urge within her must have been playing a foolish trick because no way was the voice coming from this room. But that urge within her had died down as if finally only the double doors in front of y/n were stopping her from getting to the voice. But this room wasn't just any room. It was the warded room containing all 3 objects of the Trove AND the Book of Breathings.

From here, she could clearly hear the ugly, hissing voice of the book saying, "Welcome, The Terror."

"Why are you hesitating? Open the door child, open it."

As if on cue, the wards around the room disappeared and the doors opened for her. Y/n could only be confused for a second before an unknown power forced her to walk into the area. And there it was, that book sitting on the circular table in the middle of the room, beckoning for her to come closer.

"The Iron Phoenix, you finally came to learn your destiny."

Y/n scoffed as she looked at the silly book from a distance and said, "Did you truly waste my time by making me come to you so that you could spit your nonsense at me? I have enough to deal with already, I do not need another headache from you."

As she turned around to leave, the book hissed loudly, "Do not mock me you fool, I know your deepest secret Winged Fury, a secret so precious not even your once beloved lover knows."

At that, y/n turned around with a shocked expression all over her face and asked, "How? How do you know of it?"

"You can not know more than me, Valkyrie, I am the one who knows it all."

It seems today was the day when y/n had to find out just how little she knows about everything. She had enough, and this stupid book will be the unfortunate one to be the outlet of her emotions. Furious, she took quick strides to reach it as she began, "How dare you?! you call me here to spit nothing of value at me while I just went through the wo-"

A sudden wave of power hit her as y/n felt like she was stuck in one place right in front of the book. Her walls, her mental walls they...they were being melted down as she felt her mind fall into some hypnotic spells.

With a voice so beautiful and eerily soothing, the book says, "Open me, open me Braveheart and see your true destiny."

Somewhere, the last sane part of her was telling y/n that this was wrong, that whatever will happen once she opens the book won't be good. Unfortunately, y/n seemed unable to follow that voice as her fingers made contact with the cover of the ancient book and flipped it open.

The book started flipping its own pages until it landed on the one with language so old, y/n knew that it was not remembered within the past history. Her mouth began moving against her will as she began saying the words on the book in such an experienced manner, it felt as if the ancient object had posessed her.

At some point, y/n could hear distant voices...was that Rhys? Az? Cas? or no, no maybe that is Nesta or another female who is screaming? Y/n could not move, could not think, as if her sole purpose was to finish the spell. She could distantly feel her body loosing its physicality. Was she disappearing? Was she becoming a ghost?

As she was saying the final words of the book, y/n turned around to find everyone from the inner circle in the room trying to get closer to her. Despair was all over their faces but it was Azriels tear striken face that y/n saw for the last time before darkness welcomed her.

"You are home now, Stormbreaker, you are home."

"Now, you shall unfold your true destiny."

With a jolt, y/n shot her eyes open and got up from...was this a grassy hill? as she turned to look behind her, there was a small lake with a white...is that a deer? What is this place? Where was she?

But y/n did not get to explore anything else as she felt the cool edge of a knife press into her throat from behind as a male voice said to her, "You move, you die."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/n: Damn this was fun to write! What secret does y/n have? I did leave a very tiny clue on that for anyone who might find it;) Anyway, I know most of you were maybe expecting Az to cheat with Elain but i am a Gwynriel shipper through and through and just could not think of Elain being such a homwrecker. Of course I am pretty sure Gwyn isn't one either butttt just for the sake of plot ya know. This won't be the last time we see the acotar characters as they will appear hopefully in the later chapters. But for now, sit back and watch y/n's new journey in this new world. P.s.Fenrys ;)

#books #fantasy #fanfics #sarah j. maas #throne of glass #acotar #azriel #fenrys moonbeam #Azriel x reader #bookish #a court of thorns and roses #fiction #fenrys x reader #togxacotar

[hyp3rf1xat10ns]

My Thoughts That No One Asked For!

Malleus is obviously very strong. We can only assume Malleus is stronger. It was easier to defeat the other Housewardens because to some extent, everyone fighting that Housewarden in on their level. Malleus is one of the top five mages in Twisted Wonderland. Fighting against him is practically impossible unless you call in another top mage. Oh wait! They're asleep like everyone else. So hear me out...What if instead of ending with an epic fight where the Prefect stands off against Malleus....The Prefect breaks the "spell" with a hug. Not a kiss, that's too Otome. A hug. One to let him know it's ok for him to be upset. It's ok for him to mourn what he is loosing and what he doesn't have. Malleus just sobs...into your arms. And giving into the sadness and accepting the reality of the situation is what snaps him out of his overblot state. Just imagine it like this.

"I am always left alone! At the end of the day I am destined to be alone! Everyone will leave me behind! I'll have no one! That is why...I need to keep you all here....happy in your dreams.....just the way you want your life to be."

Malleus' laughter echoed throughout the halls of Diasomnia. The people who were currently awake had a sense of fear embedded in them. He was too powerful to fight. It seemed impossible to take him down. Was this the end? The one overblot you couldn't defeat?... But then...you realized something....you were afraid of him...for the first time since you met him...you were scared....but why?...Yes he's overblotted and caused everyone to sleep for a thousand years and yet....you still can't help but see him as that weird horned boy who showed up at Ramshackle one cold autumn night...the man you dubbed Hornton because he wouldn't tell you his name...the man who gave you the courage to fight against Azul when he practically had Ramshackle in your clutches...the one who sent you the holiday card, the one you took nightly walks with, the one who helped to fix the stage, the one who was worried when you disappeared. There were so many things that Malleus was. You think back to when you told him you might have found a way back home. He looked so hurt you...He looked

Scared...

You had no idea what triggered it. With every ounce of strength left in your body. You approached Malleus, shakily. Staggering with each step. Exhausted and sore from fighting. Silver, Sebek and Idia stared at you like you were insane. Had the prefect ha one too many overblots???

"HUMAN!! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING???"

"Prefect! Wait!-"

"Th-This is l-like something o-out of some kind of m-manga o-o-or an anime...wh-why are they having a main ch-ch-character moment?"

You finally stopped when you were face to face with Malleus. You looked like a mess and he looked fine.

"Oya? Approaching me head on, Child of Man? Or have you come to accept your fate and give into slumber for-"

Before he can finish, you hug him. It's gentle and soft and just meant to be comforting and kind.

"It's ok Hornton..."

You whisper as you hug him. You brace yourself for him to shove you off with a blast of magic that would kill you...but it never happens...instead the young prince curls into you arms and begins sobbing into your arms...as the blot disappears and everyone awakes. Like some form of fairytale.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #twst malleus #malleus draconia #malleus x reader #malleus draconia x reader #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #my thoughts #True loves kiss but not. #diasomnia #diasomnia x reader #idia shroud #twst idia #twst silver #twst sebek #sebek zigvolt

[blackhairedjjun]

second chance encounters

pairing: choi yeonjun x gn!reader | genre / tropes: slight fluff, acquaintances to ???, university -> working adult au, nostalgia & slice of life vibes | word count: 3.6k | warnings: alcohol, some profanity, work-related burnout

summary: it's been a year since you graduated from university, and it always seemed like life had different plans for you and for the resident dance crew heartthrob, choi yeonjun. that is, until you run into him by chance after work.

author's notes: hello! this is one part of a fic idea that has been stirring in my brain for the LONGEST time - i wanted a very slice of life fic about adult life and growing up, and for the longest time i tried over and over to write it. but it was hard especially since it involved such personal feelings and experiences and i wanted to capture it just right. but i managed to get this part out, and once i'm less busy i want to try writing a part 2 too. so here it is, i hope you enjoy!

(support by reblogging banner by @/cafekitsune)

It was nearly midnight when you were finally let go from overtime duties at your job. You walked out of your building and, exhausted from staying up for so long, you plopped down on the curb in front of the entrance. At this hour you should try to get a cab home, but you wanted a moment to rest and regain your bearings first.

Despite the late hour, it wasn’t too dark outside; the streetlamps illuminated the sidewalks, and plenty of other office buildings still had windows with the lights on. Next to your building, a 24-hour convenience store was flooded in fluorescent lighting. Maybe you were lucky to have gotten out before midnight when plenty of others were still staying up. But with your eyelids drooping and your whole body feeling heavier than a slab of rock, calling yourself “lucky” felt like a stretch.

You spent the next few moments letting your attention drift, your eyes fluttering shut. You could still see the spreadsheets swimming in front of your vision, and you could still hear your boss’s voice urging you to keep up with the pace. “We won’t go easy on you just because you’re a junior. In fact, you should be working harder if you want to prove yourself.” 

Work harder... prove myself... The words were in your mind constantly, even when your body protested.

Your eyes snapped open for a moment and you spotted a tall man in a hoodie exiting the convenience store, plastic bag in hand, headed for a nearby parked car. Perhaps it was just your fatigue making you see things, but he looked familiar.

He turned his head in your direction and your eyes met. You watched his own eyes widen in recognition.

“Uh, excuse me一” he approached you, scratching his head, “did you perhaps go to...?”

He mentioned your university’s name.

You blinked and studied his face.

Of course. 

You had spoken to him only a handful of times before, but you still recognized the former captain of your university’s dance crew. Everyone at your major had known him.

“Choi Yeonjun...?”

一

Three years earlier

You swished around the beer in your plastic cup, watching the party scene unfold in front of you. The music blared from someone’s speakers, competing with the loud voices of your fellow university students shouting and laughing over each other, and tipsy students nearly stumbled into one another as they tried to reach the cooler for more drinks. All the while you leaned against the far wall of the common room, taking small sips of your beer, glancing around now and then for a sign of your roommate.

Still nowhere.

She’s probably playing a drinking game with one of her friends, you thought, or in another room making out with that guy from the dance crew. You sighed and drained the last of your beer, but made no move to refill it. The room was full of people you didn’t know or barely knew, their faces vaguely familiar from some common classes you shared with them, and you didn’t have the courage to talk to them. None of them paid you any notice either, instead staying close by the friends they already knew.

You had hoped that your roommate would at least be polite and introduce you to some friends you could stay with, but she had left your side as soon as you both entered the party. You sighed.

Just them a tall man in a baseball cap blocked your view.

He was clearly drunk, from the way his face was flushed red, and blinked a few times at you. You recognized him as a classmate from your literature elective, though you couldn’t remember his name.

“Do I... know you?” he slurred, blinking again. A small spark of hope rose in your chest.

“Yeah, we’re actually一”

He threw his head back and started laughing, nearly dropping the beer bottle he was holding. You tried to speak but he only laughed more. “Ah, what am I saying... who are you... hah...”

Your heart sank.

“Hey, you’re bother 一 you’re bothering them... that’s not nice...”

Another man appeared at your classmate’s side, nudging him. You could he that he was also tipsy from his pink-tinted cheeks and the way he stumbled over his words, but he seemed to have enough sense to stop his friend. He too looked familiar, but you weren’t not sure from where.

“I’m not boooothering,” your drunk classmate whined.

“Heh, okay you’re not... let’s just hang somewhere else...”

He squeezed his drunk friend’s shoulder, which seemed to divert his attention; he turned around to leave the room. The man then turned to look at you and you swore that he was properly looking, not just staring with his eyes glazed over from the alcohol.

“Hi...” He let out a little giggle. Cute. 

“Um... hi?”

“Sorry ‘bout that... we won’t bother you... have fun.”

“It’s okay...”

He stood there for a few moments, smiling at you. It was just a lopsided smile from tipsiness, but you couldn’t help the flutter you felt in your chest.

Then, as if awakened out of nowhere, he snapped to his senses. He waved at you, letting out a shy “bye!”, then turned around to follow his friend. You watched his back as he nearly stumbled over the couch and disappeared into a room at the side, and for the first time that night, you smiled.

It took a few moments, but you finally remembered why that man was so familiar: He was a prodigy member of the dance crew, the one that had won countless competitions against other dance crews from different universities. He was only a sophomore and already he was turning heads. Of all the members of that award-winning roster, he was said to be the best one.

His name, you recalled, was Choi Yeonjun.

一

You sat in the passenger seat of Yeonjun’s car with your hands folded on your lap. A jazz-pop playlist was playing from the car stereo, and you glanced over at your driver, who was humming along and drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. His posture was relaxed and he steered with one hand. As the song reached its final chorus, he broke out into full song, singing with such passion that his eyes and nose scrunched up.

Maybe it was a bad idea to accept a car ride from someone you barely knew, but it was certainly a better option than remaining seated and half-asleep on the curb in front of your office building. Besides, you had heard nothing but good things about Yeonjun during your stay in university. You had been classmates with a few dance crew members and they always spoke of him with a tone of admiration.

The song came to an end just as the car stopped at a red light. At this hour, there were hardly any cars on the intersection. Yeonjun turned towards you and smiled.

“I haven’t seen you in ages,” he said.

“Me too.” You fought your tiredness to manage a smile.

“It’s so good to see a familiar face. I just moved here a few weeks ago.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” He tilted his head at you and licked his lips, thinking of what to say. “I actually got back from visiting my parents... I had to pick up some of my stuff there to move to my new studio. Then I ended up having dinner with them, walking around, catching up, and well... I was hoping to be home by ten.” 

Your tired smile turned genuine at his story. “That sounds really nice, though. I visited my parents last month, so I get what you mean.”

“Mm, I miss them already.” The traffic light turned green and Yeonjun turned to face the road again; the car cruised past the buildings of the business district, the lights in some of their windows still on. “Hey, how long have you lived here?”

“Less than a year ago, I guess? Pretty much right after graduation. I got a good job offer so I moved here so that the commute would be a bit easier.”

“Yeah, that makes sense... hold on, the building I found you at...”

“Uh-huh?”

“You work at StarOne?”

You sighed. When you had first gotten the job offer, everyone around you had oohed and aahed, throwing compliments and congratulations your way 一 you had gotten a job at one of the biggest, most prestigious companies in the country. You had blushed and beamed at them and replied with Thank you and Oh my god, I’m so excited too. But it hadn’t even been a year since then, and now all you knew were hours of overtime and unhappy clients, rush projects and evaluations where your boss and his boss peeled back your pride layer by layer. You’re doing good, but we didn’t hire you for ‘good’, they would say. We’ve got dozens of other junior officers and even more applicants standing outside our doors, clamoring for the job that you have.

You took a deep breath and prepared yourself for the canned responses you had developed when asked about your job: Yes, I work at StarOne. The pay is fine. The hours are pretty long, I guess. It’s challenging. But at least I work at a good company.

But instead the car reached another red light and Yeonjun turned to look at you and his eyes softened, as if he had seen the exasperation you so often hid. “Oh... overtime?”

You nodded.

“Ah, sorry. You’re probably too tired to talk about work, huh?”

You nodded again.

He blushed and turned away for a moment. Then he reached to the passenger seat behind him, picked up a thick dark blue blanket, and handed it to you. “Ah, my bad, I shouldn’t have asked... Do you want to rest for a bit? You can sleep for the rest of the ride if you want. Don’t worry, the blanket’s clean.”

Your memory stirred and brought forth a moment three years ago, when you had first run into Yeonjun at a party. In your mind you saw the way he had squeezed your old classmate’s shoulder, keeping him from bothering you too much, and the way he had looked at you right after. You remembered feeling seen, as if he regarded you as an old friend.

The way Yeonjun looked at you now, blanket in hand, felt exactly the same.

“Oh... you didn’t have to.”

“Keep it in case you get sleepy.”

You took the blanket from him, his fingertips brushing yours as he handed it over, and unfolded it on your lap. When you looked back at him you couldn’t help the small smile forming on your lips.

“Thank you.”

He made sure to drive a little more slowly after that, but you could still hear him softly humming along to the songs on his playlist. The sound of his voice wrapped around you even more comfortably than the blanket. 

You closed your eyes to let your mind wander. Sleep didn’t come to you, but new thoughts did 一 thoughts of Yeonjun and what you had known about him from university. Though you had barely spoken to him, your social circles did overlap somewhat; you had been classmates with a few dance crew members, and a few of his friends had been in the same major as you. Every time his name was brought up, it was always in a positive light, whether it was him helping out a new dance recruit or inspiring the rest of the dance crew to work harder. Not once had you heard anyone speak ill of him.

Now you understood why.

一

Two years earlier

You watched the rain from the entrance of the campus arts building, its extended roof keeping you and several other students dry. Today the downpour was much better compared to previous days 一 you could actually see ahead of you, for one 一 but it was still bad enough that the endless drumming of the rain on rooftops filled your ears, and the pathway leading out of the building was a blur.

Still, you had a class in ten minutes and Professor Im had not made any announcement of cancellation. The sciences building was a short walk away but you needed all the time you could to get there and dry yourself off. Sighing, you fished your umbrella out of your bag and silently thanked your past self for remembering to pack it this time. With the push of a button (good thing you got one of those automatic ones) the umbrella opened, you held it up, and you hugged your bag more closely around your body to keep it dry. Here you go.

You had barely taken two steps out of the building when someone bumped against your side. Your umbrella shook, causing a few rain droplets to land on your head, but you barely felt them. Not while you were too busy staring in horror at the student who had bumped into you and was now running through the rain, not caring that they were getting soaked to the bone.

“HEY!”

You chased after them, your umbrella swaying as you ran through the pathway, shouting at the student to wait. You were no match for their pace 一 you could see that they had long legs 一 but they finally heard your shouts, slowed down, and turned to look at you.

Oh. Choi Yeonjun.

His hair was wet, with his bangs clinging to his forehead, and his hoodie was so drenched that it had turned from light grey to dark. He was still panting from his sprint and the dampness on his face was a mixture of rainfall and sweat.

You felt your face grow hot. Somehow offering to share an umbrella with someone you kind of knew was more embarrassing than doing it with a total stranger. But you were already here anyway and it seemed rude not to say anything.

“Uh, we can... share...”

You held the umbrella up above your head to accommodate his height and he laughed.

“You don’t have to,” he said. “I’m headed to the gym for dance practice, it might be too far.”

“It’s okay! I’ll take you!”

That was a lie. The gym was in the opposite direction from the science building. But you had perfect attendance in class so far, so you figured that one late mark wasn’t too much of a cost.

Yeonjun giggled and took the umbrella from you. His hands were soft as they brushed against yours. Your whole body felt warm despite the chill from the rain. “I’ll hold it for us then,” he said.

You smiled and moved closer to him. “Thank you.”

“Nah, I should be thanking you. Coach would’ve embarrassed me in front of the whole team for being late. And I told the new members last week not to be late! I would’ve looked like a dummy in front of them.”

He laughed again and you couldn’t help but laugh too. His walking pace was brisk but you didn’t mind, keeping up with him and listening to him talk about his dance practice. A whole other world within the university campus seemed to open up in front of you, one of competitions and prizes and prestige and a lot of blood, sweat, and tears. Yet there was an unmistakable gleam in Yeonjun’s eyes as he talked about the team’s new routine and the higher challenge level for it.

“We’ve only got a week left so we really can’t waste any time,” he said. “So... thank you. This helps a lot, really.”

The two of you were standing in front of the gym entrance. The rain had died down to a drizzle, and he lowered your umbrella. The walk from the arts building had felt like both an eternity and a moment.

You took the umbrella from him and his hands lingered on the handle before he let go.

“See you around,” he said. “Good luck with class.”

“Yeah, see you... good luck with practice.”

Yeonjun turned and sprinted into the gym, and you headed back to find the path to the science building. Not a single worry about being late bothered you, and you couldn’t help yourself from smiling.

一

Yeonjun’s GPS led him to a boxy apartment building. It was painted completely white, reflecting the light of a nearby streetlamp, which gave it a sterile glow. He pursed his lips; not the most homey place to live, he mused, but at least it looked well-kept.

He turned to you and found you asleep in the passenger seat, his blanked draped over your shoulders. Your chest rose and fell ever so slightly from your breaths, and your expression was completely calm. There was no trace of the undertones of stress he’d sensed when he had approached you; whatever worries you had about your job seemed to disappear in your dreams. 

Yeonjun lifted a hand to tap your shoulder awake, but he hesitated. A wave of relief overcame him, and for a moment he couldn’t help but admire your serene expression as you slept. You looked so... content. Had he ever seen you look that way? While he had crossed paths with you only a few times, you had always looked as if something was on your mind. He could still see it all in his memories: the loneliness in your posture when he approached you at the party, the nervousness in your eyes when you had offered your umbrella to him. He wondered what worries were always plaguing you, and if anything could be done to keep them away.

At least he had returned the favor for the umbrella incident, he thought. And it only took him two years.

His hand was still hovering over your shoulder when you awoke. You blinked a few times to chase the sleepiness away before turning your head to look at him. A small smile spread across your face and Yeonjun felt a flutter stirring in his chest.

“Are we home...?” Your voice was still hoarse with sleep.

“Just got here.” He smiled. “I can walk you to your door...”

“Mm, okay...”

Your apartment door wasn’t far up, only on the third floor. You had his blanket draped around you like a scarf, and Yeonjun carried your bag for you. He set it down beside your door, its black paint finish contrasting with the white walls, and waited for you to unlock it.

It was only when you pushed the door open that you noticed his blanket around your shoulders. You tugged it off and handed it to him.

“Oh, sorry, I forgot一”

“Keep it.” Then, feeling a little bold, he continued: “You can give it to me the next time we see each other.”

“Next time...?”

His smile faltered. Did you not want to see him again? Was he being too forward? Did he overestimate how much you remembered him? Why did he feel so keen on seeing you again in the first place?

“You don’t 一 you don’t have to.” He reached a hand to take the blanket. “Sorry, I was, I was just...”

But you regained your senses from your nap and beamed at him. The sight of it sent another fluttering feeling through Yeonjun’s chest.

“No, I mean... I was just surprised that you’d want to catch up, that’s all.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I... um. I do want to catch up with you, Yeonjun.”

“Great! Oh shit一” He clasped his hands over his mouth. His voice had come out a little too loud. “I mean, let’s work something out. I can give you my number...”

一

You had been lying in bed for fifteen minutes and you were still awake. You should be trying to sleep for another day of overtime tomorrow, but all you could think about was your drive home with Yeonjun.

You reached for your phone on your nightstand and looked at his contact for the fourth or fifth time since you’d shut the door behind you. He had saved his contact name as “jjunie” with a little fox next to it, and the sight of it made you chuckle.

Did this really happen? You thought of the few times you had run into each other, seemingly at random: his cute little “bye” as he clutched a beer, or his damp hair sticking to his forehead as he held onto your umbrella. His life felt tangential to yours, always passing by you, but never with you. And yet you were holding on to your phone with his number in it and an offer to see each other again.

You laughed again and set the phone down on the bed, on top of the blanket that he had lent you, and rolled to your side. It didn’t matter now, you mused. Old memories gave way to newer ones: his smile as he opened the passenger side of his car for you, his humming to a jazz tune as he waited at the intersection, his soft hands placing the blanket in yours. 

No matter how things had been back then, they were different now. Yeonjun would stick around in your life for a little while. You might even have a friend, and the thought consoled you as you finally drifted off to sleep.

#txt x reader #yeonjun x reader #txt x you #yeonjun x you #choi yeonjun x reader #kpop x reader #txt imagines #kpop imagines #yeonjun imagines #txt fluff #yeonjun fluff #tomorrow x together imagines #txt fic #txt fanfic #yeonjun fanfic #bhj: violet's works

[2kyo7]

𝐂𝐀𝐈𝐌; 𝟎𝟓

metkayina!reader x avatar 2

THE SHORE HAD BECOME tiny after yourself and Tuk had swam such a great distance to reach the destination. At first you'd grown worried about going so far, even with your skills you didn't want her to tire out halfway through, but was graciously surprised when Tuk showed little sign of discomfort or distress. Simply enjoying the delicious food and scenery around her. "Tuktirey do not fear the waves as you swim." You held a steady grasp to Tuk's hand, providing some stability as she attempted to stay afloat comfortably as you did. "The harder you fight, the harder swimming will be."

Tuk let out a strong huff of frustration, "I only want to swim like you ____!" You laugh aloud at her inexperience, "most fyeyn in the clan can not swim half as well as me Tuktirey. Do not worry yourself so much." Tuk seemed to calm at the realization she was not lacking in skill, just you had an over abundance of it. "Woah, really!" You nodded, soon diving your head below the water in order to pick a ripe fruit from its underwater vine. "In truth Tuktirey, you are doing very well—even more so than your older siblings! Truly something only a strong warrior can accomplish.”

fyeyn - adult

She became silent at your words for a moment before speaking once more, "why do you call me that ____? I have never went into battle before like Neteyam and Lo'ak..." Tuk's head lowered slightly, a mix of sadness and anger playing on her features, all directed towards herself. You'd broken the fruit apart, placing its inside contents to her lips. "Being a warrior is not only about fighting. One can be a warrior of many things." Tuk took the fruit into her mouth, looking at you curiously. "Take me, I am a warrior of the water, and you—"

"You are a warrior of great courage. Not many are able to travel so far and stray from everything they've known, especially at your age."

"So...I am a warrior! More than Lo'ak, and Neteyam." Tuk's eyes gleamed with excitement, her arms moving to latch themselves around your neck. "____, if you know all this—can't you be nicer to everyone else?"

The question through you for a loop, but you came to understand why she'd ask this of you. Her family most likely spoke about you amongst themselves, no, you're positive they do, and she heard every word of it. Admittedly you did have your favorite out of the family, and to everyone else, the difference was noticeable. Though you still thought your actions of precaution were just, maybe at some points you took things too far. "I apologize Tuktirey, I've acted immaturely up until now."

"Pänutìng you won't be mean anymore!" Her bottom lip quivered ever so slight, in a silent plea. Wrapping an arm around your middle, you started swimming towards shore with ease despite the added weight. "I pänuting Tuktirey, kindness and respect shall be shown to your family by me from now on."

pänuting - promise

Eclipse over took the sky's bright and shining blues, now exchanging them for dark contrasting purples lined with thousands of stars. Both you and Tuk admired Eywa's enchanting sky view causing your voyage to take much longer than intended. Upon arrival, you notice the Sully's in their usual circle—minus one of course, deciding that your distance was close enough. "I'm afraid this is where we part ways young warrior."

"Come join us for dinner, they won't mind trust me!" Tuk began pulling you closer towards her home, you retracted yourself from her surprisingly vice grip on your arm. "No Tuktirey, I must leave for home myself soon—may eywa grant you peace."

"Goodnight ____." Tuk's pace turned into a fast jog as she approached her family's marui, "see you tomorrow!" You watched as she was immediately greeted by the others, showered with affection after she'd technically disappeared for nearly an entire day, cooing you watched the scene only a moment before the ocean called out your name in whisperers. Allowing herself to sucome to Eywa's waters.

Neteyam soon departed from his shared marui pod, eyes scanning around the dark in search of something—or rather—someone. Ah, he thinks, there you are. "Neteyam? What are you doing, sit. Dinner will be fixed soon." He paused at the entrance, with half his body already out, Neteyam turned to look at his mother pleadingly. "Uh, I'll be back soon, don't wait to eat."

Venturing out of his home at a rather quickened pace, Neteyam nearly tripped over himself to get to you, praying that the slip up went unnoticed.  "____" He called softly, possible the softest he ever would to anyone, so much he'd doubt you'd heard him.

Your ear twitched—you heard him— but the rest of your body remained unmoving. You'd submerge yourself barely waist length into the water, your arms outstretched to feel the bioluminescent squid which swam in circles around you as if you were born one of their own.

Neteyam ungracefully joined alongside by you in the ocean waves that pushed against his body, not only causing him to nearly lose his footing but also scare away your marine life.  "Oh! I truly meant no harm—" You interrupted his apology with a deep groan, silencing yourself by dragging two hands down your face, muffling the next words you spoke. "Eywa give me strength."

He'd really done it now, embarrassing himself not only once but twice in front of you of all na'vi. It's as if he lost all sense in your presence, who could recover from this? "Worry not, brother of Tuktirey, you are not completely to blame for your clumsiness. I am at fault too."

Neteyam lowered his own posture send you a look of surprise, you'd never said something like this to him. "Your sister has made me realize the error of my ways." Your gaze shifted to look towards Neteyam, leaving him breathless simply because of your stare. "I have been unreasonably cruel to you and your family."

Placing a light hand to his shoulder, you wanted Neteyam to understand the truth to your words—your truth. "I am sorry Neteyam."

A toothy grin grew on the younger na'vis face quicker than he could suppress it, an expression of true happiness taking shape. He'd never thought four simple words of an apology would ever make him feel the way he did now, like an opposing force finally released him, now Neteyam felt ten times lighter.

"Irayo ____." Encasing his hand around yours, Neteyam's words were followed by a deep, meaningful silence between the both of you. So much so, you barely took noticed of the lightened squid which not only surrounded yourself but also Neteyam into a circle. What you did take notice of were his round bunny ears, that twitched too often. And every tiny syuratan freckles scattered throughout his face. Your eyes began traveling further than they should've, taking note of his arms, though thin compared to your people, had a thick layer of toned muscle. Wondering the tiniest bit lower revealed a noticeable vline—

irayo - thank you

syuratan - bioluminescence

"I-I don't deserve your thanks," you withdrew your hand from his hold, opting to sway them in the waves. "Tomorrow I will truly teach you the ways of our people, just as I always should have." Neteyam stopped himself from reaching out to hold your limb once again, not wanting to risk losing the new found sympathy, watching while you fully submerged yourself, causing splashes of water to land on him. "Alright. Tomorrow then." He turned to walk back towards the dry surface sand.

"Nìhona unil, ____" Neteyam's smile outshined even thr thousands of stars above you, hoping he wouldn't see your growing nervousness. Simply nodding in response as he walked away.

nìhona - sweet

unil - dreams

You swam with your head atop the waves, enjoying the simple comfort and familiarity of something so known to you—paired with the overwhelming presence of the sky. Tears breamed along your waterline, mixing amidst salty water droplets that already occupied your cheeks. To do this, accepting them, went against the very values you'd built to protect yourself and the clan from your parent's fate. As if you broke some type of taboo by welcoming them with open arms despite knowing their origins.

"Great Mother," you say breathlessly, "guide me well."

#2kyo7 #avatar 2022 #avatar the way of water #avatar x reader #2kyo7 series #avatar 2 #avatar twow #avatar x y/n #avatar series #neteyam sully x na’vi!reader #neteyam fic #neteyam x reader #neteyam fanfiction #neteyam #aonung x you #aonung #aonung x y/n #aonung x reader #aonung fic #aonung fanfiction #lo’ak x reader #lo’ak x you #lo’ak x fem!reader #female reader #fem reader #I ❤️ avatar

[bobadiaries]

ok rant post :)

#so basically mines a pretty long name #like i have two names if that makes sense #from birth everyone has called me one name #and i also rlly like that name #but it was also pretty hard to produce for some people lol #so i’m when i shifted to another place i went w another name #this one was simpler for everyone ig #everyone at home still calls me the first name #but the thing is whenever i introduce myself to someone i go w the second name #idk idk #idk why i had to tell y’all this but hey this is what u signed up for #random ass posts abt random ass topics :)

[itsmespicaa]

"Whoops, so sorry. Where are the shears for the least expensive clothes? Looks like it's not this one."

#chiori #genshin impact #chiori genshin #fanart #spica draws #translating directly from the CN teaser #THIS IS MY OFFERING TO HER PLS COME HOME EARLY PLSLSPLSPFDH AAAAAAAA I HAVE HER GUARANTEED BUT STILL QWQ EARLY WOULD BE AMAZING #good luck to everyone who's also pulling!!! #i love her so much its not even funny omg HFJKSDHF IT WAS LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT !!!! i have everything ready for her qwq #i love elegant women who can kick my ass and call me names #her indifferent sassy and idgaf attitude is so....*chefs kiss*

[inkskinned]

i love finding out how big this world is. my girlfriend has only visited boston a handful of times, but i grew up here. i told her we'd be going to do the tourist traps in salem, and she said - which salem?

to be fair to her, there are a lot of other states that have a town named "salem." and i think there's some evidence that the witch trials actually happened in what is now called Danvers. but the thing is - she thought "salem" was like, a made-up thing. there wasn't actually a salem, massachusetts - like there isn't a gotham city.

they don't talk about it that much where she grew up, is the thing! and this made me laugh. a week ago she was talking about her hometown and said something akin to "well the museum's kinda like the one in richmond," and i had to explain i still had no frame of reference for what the hell this museum was like.

i love finding out what knowledge i take for granted. i used to live with 5 other women. 3 of them were from south korea. they had to take, like, a solid fifteen minutes to explain their birthday system to my gay math-blind ass, laughing as they did.

that same month, our roommate from denmark taught me the danish word for wreath by accident - she'd been talking about decorations, used krans, and i'd been able to figure it out through context. i just picked it up and kept talking. our entire house used krans as the word. she came home and slammed the door one evening, mock-angry, shouting: you motherfuckers! it's a - a wreath!

and how often do you use certain words, anyway! i am cuban, so i was raised with certain spanish words sort of sprinkled in there; but never how you'd think. in middle school i asked someone to pass me the recogedor - in a completely american accent, like i was speaking english. i hadn't registered it as a spanish word. i mean, how often in school do you actually use the word "dustpan" - i'd only ever heard it in the context of cleaning my house.

there are places that you grew up that you, just, like, know. that you assume everyone knows. there are things and people and "common knowledge" that you have that, just, like. doesn't exist for me. i don't know what you call your public transportation system, but in boston we call it "the T". our train cards are called charlie cards because of a song where a father accidentally abandons his family, which was written because our system of transportation. in boston, most people would snort and say everyone knows that, kid.

i think you and i should go on a long walk - it's getting dark early these days and we need any sun we can manage. tell me about the first time you saw snow. tell me about the stuff everyone knows about your home. tell me about the cities "everyone's been to," about the food "everyone's already tried." who knows. maybe it will feel nice to you - watching someone learn about it for the very first time.

#spilled ink #warm up #4/10 #loved this interaction with them tho i have to be honest.

[thoughtportal]

Opinion Here’s how to get free Paxlovid as many times as you need it

When the public health emergency around covid-19 ended, vaccines and treatments became commercial products, meaning companies could charge for them as they do other pharmaceuticals. Paxlovid, the highly effective antiviral pill that can prevent covid from becoming severe, now has a list price of nearly $1,400 for a five-day treatment course.

Thanks to an innovative agreement between the Biden administration and the drug’s manufacturer, Pfizer, Americans can still access the medication free or at very low cost through a program called Paxcess. The problem is that too few people — including pharmacists — are aware of it.

I learned of Paxcess only after readers wrote that pharmacies were charging them hundreds of dollars — or even the full list price — to fill their Paxlovid prescription. This shouldn’t be happening. A representative from Pfizer, which runs the program, explained to me that patients on Medicare and Medicaid or who are uninsured should get free Paxlovid. They need to sign up by going to paxlovid.iassist.com or by calling 877-219-7225. “We wanted to make enrollment as easy and as quick as possible,” the representative said.

Indeed, the process is straightforward. I clicked through the web form myself, and there are only three sets of information required. Patients first enter their name, date of birth and address. They then input their prescriber’s name and address and select their insurance type.

All this should take less than five minutes and can be done at home or at the pharmacy. A physician or pharmacist can fill it out on behalf of the patient, too. Importantly, this form does not ask for medical history, proof of a positive coronavirus test, income verification, citizenship status or other potentially sensitive and time-consuming information.

But there is one key requirement people need to be aware of: Patients must have a prescription for Paxlovid to start the enrollment process. It is not possible to pre-enroll. (Though, in a sense, people on Medicare or Medicaid are already pre-enrolled.)

Once the questionnaire is complete, the website generates a voucher within seconds. People can print it or email it themselves, and then they can exchange it for a free course of Paxlovid at most pharmacies.

Pfizer’s representative tells me that more than 57,000 pharmacies are contracted to participate in this program, including major chain drugstores such as CVS and Walgreens and large retail chains such as Walmart, Kroger and Costco. For those unable to go in person, a mail-order option is available, too.

The program works a little differently for patients with commercial insurance. Some insurance plans already cover Paxlovid without a co-pay. Anyone who is told there will be a charge should sign up for Paxcess, which would further bring down their co-pay and might even cover the entire cost.

Several readers have attested that Paxcess’s process was fast and seamless. I was also glad to learn that there is basically no limit to the number of times someone could use it. A person who contracts the coronavirus three times in a year could access Paxlovid free or at low cost each time.

Unfortunately, readers informed me of one major glitch: Though the Paxcess voucher is honored when presented, some pharmacies are not offering the program proactively. As a result, many patients are still being charged high co-pays even if they could have gotten the medication at no cost.

This is incredibly frustrating. However, after interviewing multiple people involved in the process, including representatives of major pharmacy chains and Biden administration officials, I believe everyone is sincere in trying to make things right. As we saw in the early days of the coronavirus vaccine rollout, it’s hard to get a new program off the ground. Policies that look good on paper run into multiple barriers during implementation.

Those involved are actively identifying and addressing these problems. For instance, a Walgreens representative explained to me that in addition to educating pharmacists and pharmacy techs about the program, the company learned it also had to make system changes to account for a different workflow. Normally, when pharmacists process a prescription, they inform patients of the co-pay and dispense the medication. But with Paxlovid, the system needs to stop them if there is a co-pay, so they can prompt patients to sign up for Paxcess.

Here is where patients and consumers must take a proactive role. That might not feel fair; after all, if someone is ill, people expect that the system will work to help them. But that’s not our reality. While pharmacies work to fix their system glitches, patients need to be their own best advocates. That means signing up for Paxcess as soon as they receive a Paxlovid prescription and helping spread the word so that others can get the antiviral at little or no cost, too.

{source}

#article #washington post #Paxlovid #covid #pandemic #health

[antiwhores]

You accidentally had sex with Bakugou.

You two had fallen asleep in his room after a hang out. You were bestfriends but you had some underlining feelings for him. So when you woke up in the middle of the night to him cuddling you, you almost choked.

You needed to pee really bad so sadly you had to pry yourself out of his arms. When you came back his eyes were cracked open just barely. He mumbled something before opening his arms for you to join him again.

It was out of character, maybe tired Bakugou was just a touchy guy. It couldn’t be more than that.

So you joined him on the bed. You buried your face into his neck. You had to savor this cause most likely this’ll be the last time this happens. Also, you were too tired to freak out. You just wanted to fall asleep in his arms.

You can barely explain what happened after that. He hiked your leg onto him, still with his half open eyes, and thrusted right against your clothed pussy.

The next thing you know, he’s dry humping you. And then he’s fingering you. And finally he’s fucking you.

It felt good, too good.

But the morning after? You felt embarrassed. No way you just fucked him without even a first date. He’s gonna think you’re easy. He might even tell everyone that you are.

Of course, that would never happen but you were panicked. You couldn’t possibly comprehend that the great Ground Zero chose you. You weren’t famous. Not a vogue model, a hero, or even wealthy. You had nothing to give him.

He had to be messing with you.

So you slipped out of his hold at 5am sharp and went home.

You fell back to sleep in tears and woke up to several texts and calls. Good thing you had your ringer off.

Bakugou - 6:34am

Where’d you go?

I was gonna make you breakfast dumbass

Bakugou - 6:52

Y/n?

Missed call - 7:00am

Bakugou - 7:30

Is this about last night?

I’ll wait for that call back so we can talk about it.

Missed call - 10:03am

Bakugou - 10:05

Call me and we can talk about it. This ignoring me isn’t gonna make it go away.

Missed call - 11:12

Missed call - 11:26

Missed call - 11-31

Bakugou - 11:40

Fucking call me back, this shit isn’t funny.

You’re so lucky I don’t know where you live yet. I’d be there in 15 minutes if I knew.

You debated calling him back. But your embarrassment and anger stopped you from letting him explain himself. How could he use your feelings against you like that! He probably knew that you liked him and wanted a quick fuck.

You started to cry all over again.

A week passed by with no contact. He sent you the occasional text telling you to talk to him but after the 6th day he seemed to give up. At least you thought that until he showed up at your door.

You opened the door wide without checking who it was since you were expecting a package. Your eyes widened when you noticed the blonde leaning against the doorframe, still in his hero costume. He must’ve just gotten off work, saving civilians and climbing the charts. It was another reminder of how he could never want you.

“You gonna let me in or am I-“

You tried to slam the door in his face but he shoved it back open easily. He let himself in, scanning the place.

“Nice place, ‘don’t see why you hadn’t invited me over.”

Maybe it’s because your small, cosy apartment didn’t compare to his high rise penthouse at the top floor.

You grabbed his arm and tried to pull him out. But he wasn’t having it and didn’t let you move him an inch.

“You need to leave, Bakugou.”

“Wow. Last name basis and I was inside you a week ago.”

“Yeah well that shouldn’t have happened.”

“Okay but it did so let’s fuckin’ talk about it.”

You just wanted him to leave before you bursted out in tears. You shook your head, trying to pull him harder but to no avail. Your lip quivered in frustration as tears welled up in your eyes.

Suddenly, he threw you over his shoulder and set you on the couch.

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

You broke down in tears.

You told him everything, every assumption you made and every insecurity. You told him how you liked him but you knew he didn’t like you back. He sat there patiently, not speaking a word until you were done.

He got up with a blank face. You thought he was gonna leave at first but he kneeled down to be eye to eye with you.

“Wanna go on a date?”

It surprised you. It was the last thing he expected you to say.

“I’ll take you on a date and prove to you how much I want you. And for the record, I’ve probably liked you longer than you have me. When we met in that coffee shop I immediately knew you were the one I wanted. ‘S rude of you of you to make assumptions but I’ll let it pass if you go on a date with me.”

You agreed as he wiped off your tears. Who were you to say no?

#i was gonna write more smut #but it was already too long #and thats out of character for antiwhores #part 2 maybe? #bakugou x reader #bakugou smut #bakugou angst #bakugou katsuki

[monstersflashlight]

"Honey, I'm home!"

minotaur x fem!reader || breeding, knotting

You heard the door closing and his hooves stumping as he looked for you. He knew where you were. In the same place as every night when he got home. Dinners were on you as long as he made breakfast. Early days of marriage were all about compromise. Or that’s what everyone told you when you married. Listening intently, hyper-aware of his presence someplace behind you.

“Smells good.” He called out as you heard the bag hitting the ground someplace in the hallway.

“Stir fry.”

You let out a startled cry as he appeared seemingly out of nowhere. “Not the food.” He whispered against your ear, grabbing your waist and pressing his whole body against you, sniffing your neck.

“What are you doing?” You asked, cutting vegetables, his body pressed against your back. Before you could even blink, he was pressing you against the counter, his erection poking at your back. “I need to make dinner.” You tried to break free of his hold, but he just pressed you harder.

“I missed you, that’s all.” He whispered next to your ear, his soft lips grazing your skin in the softest caress, making your whole body shiver.

“Missed me? You saw me this morning.” You giggled at his antics, trying to push him away. You knew full well that there was no way you could out-power him.

His solid frame against you was too heavy, too big, too imposing… He could do whatever he wanted to you and you couldn’t do anything to stop him. You should be scared, but you weren’t. Nope. You couldn’t be scared. That’s the first thing that drew you to him, his fucking size. How big he was, how his body towered over you, how his biceps were bigger than your head. Maybe you liked that. Maybe you enjoyed feeling so tiny against him. Maybe you enjoyed the feel of him picking you up and using you as he pleased. Maybe...

Lost in your horny thoughts you didn’t realize his hand was inside your panties until his fingers were playing with your clit. “I missed this pussy. My pussy.” His big fingers felt rough against your soft skin.

“Wha-?” Your voice broke with a groan when he pinches a bit too harsh, a bit too forceful. You know he did it on purpose, he could be gentle, he usually was. But him being rough to you meant one thing: your fertile days arrived, you just signed yourself for a fuck-athon. Oh dang. So you did what you could: you whimpered.

He laughed at your whine, a spark of cruelness shining through. “Don’t play coy now, pet. I can feel you dripping down my fingers.” Said fingers were probing your entrance, hovering over it until you moaned his name And then hell broke loose. He didn’t give you a heads up, he didn’t play games like that. One second you were standing pressing against the counter and the next one your clothes were ripped off you and his dick was pushing into you. Too fast, too harsh, not letting you adapt to his size. He was in for one thing and one thing only: breed you.

His dick was so deep and so hard that you could feel every ridge, every vein. It felt like the most amazing torture, the sweetest death. In seconds, you were not a person anymore, just a toy for him to play as he wished. He grabbed your hips, bouncing you on his cock as you grabbed the counter for dear life.

“Are you gonna cum on my cock like a good girl?” You whined. The combination of his shaft inside you and his fingers playing with your clit made your climax hit you like a tide wave, gasping for air as you trembled on his dick.

But that didn’t stop him, you were his to play and his to fuck.

“That’s it. Good girl. Again.” His fingers were still playing with your oversensitive clit, in the good side of too painful. Your pleasure felt raw, your throat spent, not a single sound coming out of you. “One more, pet. Give me one more.” You complied. But that wasn’t enough.

Your bull of a husband kept fucking you, not stopping for a second. His labored breaths making you hotter. His moans making you wetter (if that was even possible). His pace was brutal, and you didn’t know what was up and what was down. Your body was completely spent as he used you as his own personal fleshlight. You kept coming, and coming, and coming… It was too much, too good.

Your brain was foggy, your body felt like jelly as he moved you up and down, your legs gave out long before he stopped. And then you felt it, the telltale sign that he was close, the bulbous knot at the base of his dick twitching against your entrance at every thrust. With a long groan, he pushed it inside of you as you screamed. Your vision went black, you went limp as he pumped you full of cum, your lower tummy bulging. His big body was pressing you down onto the counter like the biggest weighted blanket, his dick still pulsing inside of you.

“Bed.” He mumbled as he lifted you off the counter, still impaled on his dick, his knot preventing any cum from escaping.

“But dinner...” You whispered in a choked breath.

“Later.”

It was gonna be a long night.

#monster x human #monster kink #monster imagine #monster boyfriend #minotaur #minotaur x human #minotaur x reader #monster fucker #monster lover #teratophillia #minotaur husband

[hoseoksluna]

LIQUID STARS | jjk

pairing: fuck buddy!jungkook x f. reader (feat. bam)

genre: angst, smut

word count: 11.8k

summary: to seal the deal, you give jungkook what he wants—your kiss, your cunt and your virginity.

playlist: liquid stars / pinterest board: wine

warnings: size kink, heavy dd/lg themes, provocation, dry humping, dirty talk, mentions of porn, oral sex (f. + m. receiving), multiple orgasms & countdown, dom/sub dynamics, reader has daddy issues (like the writer), first time, jealousy, inner child healing, plushie used during intercourse, jungkook fucks her numb & dumb, praise kink, cum eating, pet names and the establishment of a title, bondage, raw sex, tummy bulge, desperation, pain felt during intercourse, squirting

note: as difficult as it was to write this, i'm immensely thankful. this changed my life; it healed me and i'll dream about it for a long, long time. i was as exhausted as oc once i finished this, because i truly did give my all. everyone, this is part four to my series 'wine' and therefore the very end. this is the very beginning of jungkook's and oc's relationship. can be read as a standalone as there aren't any quirks from the other parts (except for bunny), though if you wish to read them now, now is the perfect time. now you can see the beautiful gradual development of their relationship. please, enjoy as you read and let me know your favorite parts bc i need to talk about this. heed the warnings as there are dd/lg themes that can be uncomfortable for some. thank you! and thank you for all the love on this series. i'll never forget it. i love you, guys. ʚɞ

side note: give some round of applause for 3D daddy provider jungkook everyone!! he deserves it!!!

Silky lilac bows adorn the tops of your pigtails that cascade down in loose braids, sprawled on the cotton of his pillow and on the soft belly of a bunny plushie. There are still traces of sunlight left on the bedding, which dissolve, little by little, into nothingness as the large star goes down, saying goodbye. It’s lightweight, the atmosphere—homely almost. And much to your surprise, you feel relatively at ease, despite the fact a man lies on top of you—a man you have a certain liking for. 

It was natural for you to end up here and you, yourself, wished for it, even. Deemed it was only right after the man took you around for a walk while his silly Doberman guarded each and every step both of you had taken in sync, especially so when he persisted in buying you a small plastic ring of the same bunny you’re lying against. He didn’t even forget about his own canine friend waiting outside patiently like the obedient dog he is, and fed him the snackies he got for him as soon as he returned from the shop. You swore Bam was as giddy as you when he received his gift. 

Now the ring glints in the last rays of the sun. His, too. 

While yours is as white as the cloudy morning sky, Jungkook’s is as black as the drowsily dozing night sky. You think it’s the perfect contrast between the pair of you. Not that you should be noting these things, considering you’re just friends. But his skin is satiny soft, painted in impressionist tattoos, while his muscles, that his well-fitted T-shirt graciously allows you to see, are strong. You’re sure he could just lift you and throw you around without much of a strain. And it certainly doesn’t help that he’s such a striking image of pure beauty. How could you not notice these intertwinings when they’re this lovely?

You like him—without a shadow of doubt. Can feel the call of an emotional attachment forming the more he studies your skin with the tip of his index finger, embellished with the Miffy ring, and it’s owed to the fact you’ve never been touched this way before. No one has ever come this close, no one has ever been interested in the moles scattered upon your shoulders, in the veins that make the pathway to the column of your neck. No one has ever gazed twice at them—but Jungkook?

He hasn’t stopped looking at them ever since he laid you down in the middle of his bed. 

How could you stop such a call? Such a lull, such a magnetic pull. You know you should, but for the meantime, you simply don’t want to. Can’t lose this moment, can’t lose this once in a lifetime opportunity—

Jungkook presses his lips against the prominent mole in the center of your left shoulder. Those pretty, puffy lips, closing against your skin, the smallest dart of tongue swiping past. It shocks you for a moment before the feeling dissolves beneath, adjusting within the freshness of your system. How could you refuse such dynamic poetry, expressed against your own forlorn body? When it’s so blatant that it’s natural, that your body willingly accepts it without a fight. 

You couldn’t. 

Stretching your fingers between the thick strands of his hair, you close your eyes to savor the feeling of being wanted. The movement of his mouth, going even as far as to the first vein rooted in your arm—following it with those half-closed pillows. Up, up until he finds the line of your collarbone. Jungkook pauses there, simply breathes against you before he interperses little pecks there, nibbles and gentle swipes of tongue. The lining of your top won’t let him go further down, so he changes direction—relies on the pathway of your veins to guide him to your neck. And there… at the first contact, you grip the roots of his hair. 

His kisses and nibbles are much harder here. And what’s worse, he takes the sensitive skin into his mouth and sucks. You fail at containing the whimpers that break out of your mouth and Jungkook reacts to them. Hums ever so deeply, rocks his hips against the mattress. You wish you were a bit bigger so you could feel the collision, but you’re just so small compared to his large form. You imagine he’s writing down the poems collecting inside of him with each cursive roll of his tongue. Wonder if there’s enough paper on your skin for all his words. 

“You sweet little thing,” Jungkook coos onto the crook of your neck, dragging his lips up and down before he stops at your jaw. You feel the warmth of his breath and his body heat seeps into yours, creating unity, blackening the ink. It feels strange, it feels so new. Brisk and springlike, like fresh air in a stuffed room. You want to stay here for a long time, tasting the wholeness of spring captured in him. You want his words to flush you red with the tinge of the entire sunlight that opens the buds of flowers during all seasons in a loop. “Can I kiss you?”

You haven’t gone beyond the innocent touching of hands with him. You brim with a tight feeling of thankfulness that he asked you such a graceful question, although something else steals your attention entirely. 

“Little?” you say, the smile on your lips pulled so taut that it quivers ever so slightly. It makes you crazy that he calls you that, but you play the game. Revel in it. “What do you mean little? I’m bigger than you.”

Jungkook cocks his brow at you, mouth falling into a lopsided grin. He sits back and you feel a whiff of coldness pass by the perimeter of your body, as if someone opened the window and let the winter air in, when it’s just his brief distance that caused it. The forming attachment in you tenses and before you can think about your actions, your hand finds his knee, his thigh and traces slow patterns there. Jungkook suddenly squeezes your waist, surprising you, and the ecstatic fluttering of butterfly wings break havoc all over your body. The solidness of his hands, their weight, their firmness, giving life to your body, meaning. You note how his fingers touch when he has his hands enveloped around you like that. And the inkling that your body matters in his hands like that slips into your mind, spreading through its axis. 

You bite your lower lip. A small ache begins to grow in your intimate parts. It’s so nice to be wanted, to be considered good enough to be touched, to be kissed. 

“You? Bigger than me?” Jungkook squeezes your waist again. Sucks in a breath through his teeth. Smiles softly; in a way that you find unbearably endearing. “No, you’re just little. Just a tiny, little bug. So tiny in my hands.” 

For the breath he inhaled, you exhale it. 

He leaves his hands there when he bends over you, hovering his lips over yours. His weight, his heat. You sigh against him in relief, in a newly blossoming excitement that he’s back again. You spread your legs wider, feet grazing his calves—

“Let me kiss you, please.” 

You’d give in, but the game is just so pleasurable. 

Your laugh is but a breath. “You wanna kiss me?” 

You exhaled, he inhaled. 

“Don’t ask stupid questions.”

“Since when do friends kiss?” You cock your eyebrow at him just like he did, prodding your tongue on the inside of your cheek. 

He hovers a little bit higher above you, hanging his head in defeat, sighing. Places his hands in fists on either side of you, caging you in. 

“Premium friends do,” he mutters, lifting his head, face all serious. You dig your toe into the toned muscle of his thigh, twirling sweet little circles, gliding up and down. Watch as his eyes lid and he tries to control it. “Don’t do that or I’ll fuck you.” 

Your body panics, but you will it to relax. 

“Does that come with the premium subscription?” 

Jungkook purses his lips, supports his weight on one hand as the other, the tattooed one, grips your jaw. He squishes your cheeks, bites his lip once—seemingly ponders whether he should play your game or not before he lets go of your pout, but still keeps his hand there. He traces the shape of your lips with this thumb, feeding his desire to kiss you with scraps. 

“Yes,” he utters. “Kisses, orgasms, my dog. It’s all—”

Orgasms, not just sex. Orgasms. 

“I get to take Bam?” 

Jungkook tuts at you. “You get to take me,” he corrects you. “Though, can even such a little thing like you take me?” 

Probably not. Definitely not. 

“But what about Bam?” 

He looks at you as if he couldn’t believe the words you’re saying, turning his head slightly to hear you better. Then, he scoffs, running his tongue across his lips swiftly, letting them express the enjoyment of your provocation by stretching into a smirk. He places his hand back on the right side of you, thinking over his words. 

“Bam is mine, but you can pet him. You can kiss him.” You can hear the feigned venom in that word as he spits it and you grin, pleased with yourself. You enjoy doing this to him. “And if you’re good, I’ll let you take him out for his walkies.” 

You gasp slowly, fingers absentmindedly gripping his thigh. Butterflies buzz you with a mere hint of arousal and to convey it, you wet your top lip with the tip of your tongue. The dominance, the principle of proving to him whether you’re deserving of something. Your heartbeat quickens, reaching for him with each swell. 

Oh, you’ll be good. You’ll be good until he’s sick of it. 

It seems he’s as pleased with himself as you were with yourself, reading your body language as he beams down at you, dimples poking holes in his cheeks. You want to stick your fingers there, pinch the skin at the corners of his mouth. Feel them, kiss them—

“Deal.” 

Jungkook blinks at you. He most likely expected you to be difficult. You like the look of surprise on him. A sweet kind of glint perches itself upon his irises. You’re at awe of how he manages to be so adorable and alluring at the same time. You could never understand it. You deem he must be otherworldly. 

“A kiss to seal the deal?” he tries, raising his brows, lowering himself to his elbows. 

He skims his lips across your cheek, descending to your neck. Places one, singular kiss there. Lifts his head to hear your answer, a soft curtain of hair falling across his forehead. 

You make a face as if you’re thinking about it. 

Jungkook groans. 

It’s cold, the way he turns away from you and it startles you—but then he slides his hands under your back and lifts you with ease, sitting you down on his lap. He moves you from the muscles on his thighs to the hardness of his intimate parts and you groan at the feeling of it. You’re wearing an airy short skirt with tights and knee socks underneath, the barrier so thin that you feel the solid, thick shape of him right under your femininity. 

You rock against him once. Jungkook lets out a sound akin to yours, fingers flexing—hands almost reaching for your behind before he decides against it and keeps them planted against your back. 

He desires your consent. And that makes you feel light-headed. Tipsy on the wholeness of him, on the pleasure coursing through your body. 

You rock your hips again—and this time, Jungkook whimpers. 

You take your hands and, slowly, you make a pathway down his chiseled chest. He twitches against you when your fingers pass by his nipples, his body following and squirming along. And once you reach the definition of his abdomen, your hands rise and fall against its quickening movement as his lungs heave. You’re mesmerized by his reaction to your touch. It’s as if it was his first time as well and something about that makes you woozy, savage and absolutely feline. 

And something about the way you’re allowed to do as you please, whereas he’s not, strengthens that state of mind, enriches it, thoroughly worsens it. 

You want him. 

It began with a ring and ended right here. 

And the process of your decision starts at his hips, finalizes at the pebbles of his nipples and finishes completely at the sides of his neck. He gives you the same, if not better, reaction, his manhood moving against you, and it’s settled. 

The giving of virginity to seal the deal, not just a kiss. 

Hovering your lips against his, you slip your hand to the place where you’re connected to feel up the shape of him. You moan onto him, vigorous power seizing you, propelling you to wrap your fingers around him. The breaths Jungkook emits are desperate, tortured, wafting over you, intoxicating you. It fills you with confidence unlike any other that you’re able to coax such a thing of beauty out of him—that you, the artist, have the upper hand momentarily while he doesn’t. 

And he waits, depends on you. You want to cry due to how happy it makes you, due to the way it suffuses an empty part of you, left abandoned by someone who should’ve taken care of it a long, long time ago. 

Because of that—if it’s kisses that he wants, you’ll give him as many as his body desires as a thank you. 

“You’re so hard against me,” you whisper. 

Jungkook grips your waist hard. 

“If you want it, you have to seal the deal,” he mimics your intonation, voice deep, tingling your tummy. 

“I want it.” You clutch both of your hands on his jawline, thumbs finding the invisible dimples. 

“Kiss me, then.” 

You whimper at the longing to do so. Your tummy clenches, butterflies inside swarm around and—

When you close your lips against his top lip, they burst into smithereens. Jungkook sighs in relief, enveloping you in his warmth. 

The kiss is hungry. You expected his first taste of you to be careful, contemplative, but he goes all in. Takes charge of the lip lock, swallowing you whole, moving against you, uttering low sounds that make your head spin and you just comply. Accept that you’re the one who submits to his craving and you find yourself liking it; find yourself wanting to deepen your submission. 

You wrap your legs around his waist, your head tilted as you reciprocate all of those hard kisses. When he comes up for air, he just gazes down at you, out of breath. One hand still on your back, the other cradles your cheek. There’s something puzzling in his eyes, as if he was fighting something within. You’re radiated by that energy, heavied down by it, letting him pet you like a puppy while you wait for the next step. 

“You’re so good that I’m considering letting you take Bam out,” he breathes, curling a wisp of your hair behind your ear. “Sweet little thing.” 

He pecks you once. You grind against his manhood and as he shortly groans onto your mouth, you splutter into giggles. Behind you, as if he heard him, the dog peeks his head out of the door, giving his Daddy a questioning look. Jungkook chuckles. 

“Bam, house.” 

The dog leaves and Jungkook sinks his fingers into your hair, sighing. Kisses you, again without tongue—only does what you’ve allowed him, but you overflow with the desire for more. He’s so considerate, so respectful and while you’re grateful for it, you want to break it. Your trust in him, made whole by all that he’s done for you, settled within you, made a bed in the sensitive parts of you that now shine. He doesn’t need to remain there—you want to go beyond that. 

“Touch me, please.” You look up into his eyes as you say it, willing them to see with all your energy how much you want him. 

He rubs soothing circles on your back. “If I touch you, I’ll fuck you, sweetheart.” 

You lift your butt ever so slightly and bounce down on him, your skirt furling. Jungkook moans, pleasing you to the core. It’s bratty of you, but it serves him right for being so stubborn, so firm in his control. You want to break him. 

“Can’t you see how much I want that?” you purr, bunching the cotton of his T-shirt in your fists. 

He merely shakes his head, licking his lower lip, fucking with you. He tugs on one of your braided pigtail, the other hand gliding to your hipbone. “This little girl is horny? I couldn’t tell.” 

A yellow light, sleepy in nature, spills through the blinds, latching onto the side of your neck. His eyes flick to it and his teeth sink into the wetness of his lip. He looks back at you when he says, “what was it that made you horny? The neck kisses?” 

He straps both of his hands to your hipbones now, adjusting you so your sweetest spot rests against his cock, rocking your hips like he wants them to. He swallows down his noises, makes room for yours. You figure he wants to hear them. 

You think about what made you horny. His respectful behavior. An electric spark spasms in your core at the memory and you roll your body against his at the impact—nipples pebbled, grazing below the hardness of his pecks. You moan loudly. He breathes heavily, can’t for the life of him contain that, gripping you with strength that will surely leave bruises. You add it to the list. 

His control—the momentary, delicious lack of it, too. The dominance that follows it. His noises and how unrestrained he is when it comes to them. The allure and the attractive charm of his looks, blended with that insufferable cutesiness. His hard cock. The neck kisses, too, of course. 

You summarize your answer and you tell him, “you.” 

A hitch in his throat. “Fuck.” 

Fuck, indeed. Fuck the steady rhythm—Jungkook speeds up your movement, the pace so fast your pigtails and your ribbons bounce, tits following suit. Your breath falls in step, moans echo within the walls of his room. He kisses you harshly, but that doesn’t silence you. He swallows your noises down, grunting. 

“You wanna know what made me hard for you?” 

You nod your head, lips forming a natural pout at the loss of contact. 

“Those fucking pigtails of yours. The knee socks. How tiny you are in my hands. Seeing you lose your fucking mind when I kissed your neck. Those marks I left behind, hm, fuck yes. Those marks made me crazy,” he mutters, staring you down. “And you know what else?” 

You wait for his answer as white flashes blind you, your roaring orgasm beckoning you close. He doesn’t stop rocking you against him, not once. Fills your brain with emptiness with his words coated wet by his dominant energy. You feel your own wetness soaking the fabric of your panties. 

“Your brattiness,” he says. “I want to fuck it out of you and make a good girl out of you that won’t misbehave again with her smart words.” 

A faint part of you, half affected by the pleasure he gives you, arises to stand up for you. “But I was good and you said so.” 

He clicks his tongue, disapprovingly shaking his head. Slows down the pace so you’re able to hear him loud and clear, your orgasm backing away. “You see the thing is with little bratty girls like you, even when they act good for me, there’s still that dark little side of them that hides. Unless I fuck it out of them, they play with me. And trust me, I like the game until I don’t.” 

You frown at him, but a moan betrays you. A fight throngs inside of you, his dominance yet again permeating you, causing you to flourish, but on the other hand, you don’t like being added to the mix. You want to be the only one—and it makes you angry that he had someone like you before you, that he even said it altogether. Though unfortunately, that’s something you can only keep to yourself. 

The forming attachment breaks, splitting into two, with the knowledge that your wish is futile. You understand he said it for the sake of the role-play that you both naturally, wordlessly established through sexual attraction, but you still have a lot of getting used to within the dynamic. He’s experienced, you’re not. Though, when you think about it, he doesn’t know a thing about your purity. You never told him. 

You blame yourself for your own pain. It’s your fault—you should’ve had a conversation with him about it before you let him do anything to you, instead of playing flirty games with him. You wouldn’t have gotten hurt, if he knew you were a virgin. The thought of what you’ve done stains you, makes you feel filthy, but you will it to kneel inside of you like a wounded animal. You need to be strong if you don’t want to storm out of his room in tears. 

No attachment, no liking. 

Just sex. 

There’s still a frown to your face, despite the fact you set yourself free with your decision. Jungkook chuckles at it, oblivious to your internal storm. 

“You didn’t like that, did you?” You didn’t like being compared to other girls he’d been with; there’s nothing to be said of the like about the role-play aspect. Being called bratty did rouse a moan out of you. “You prove my words right.” 

You roll your eyes. Jungkook grips your ass hard and spanks you. As the sting reverberates, along with it comes the realization you got what you wanted. 

You broke him. 

And now you have to face the repercussions. 

Good thing you’ve sobered up from the stupefaction of your arousal. 

You cradle his face and kiss him deeply in effort to change the narrative. No feeling of affection from earlier hangs upon your heart and you find that it’s easier like this. No strings, no pain. It relieves you—so much that you sense a layer of lightness to your body and tiny, manageable tears well in your eyes. You get to enjoy this after all. 

There’s radiance to your eyes, rooted in hope, and true softness to your words when you say, “I want you to fuck it out of me. I want you to be my first.” 

You want to be different—your pride is uninfluenced by your decision. If he fucks it out of you, the new narrative you’re longing for will fully take place and make living through this bearable. You know you can’t have him the way you’d like, but if fate wrote that you’re to have him this way—you don’t mind altering it to the little desires you’re allowing yourself to have. 

Once in a lifetime opportunity. You can’t lose it. 

Jungkook is left astounded by your words, eyes widening, shock evident on his features. Like your words, he softens, unclenching his fingers from your suppleness, the darkness in his irises making a way for gentleness to come through. He rubs the small of your back, hands ascending to your spine, feeling the clip of your bra, until he finds the nape of your neck. He holds you there, tenderly, as if you were a porcelain doll he now was careful not to break. 

The change in his demeanor is stark. It surprises you as well—and like everything that has happened within the hour, it isn’t something you expected from him. The emotion that emerges from the roundness of his eyes touches the hardness of your decision, tries to get through, pokes a gap inside, letting the light in. 

He tucks his darkness back inside. Strokes the back of your head, the silky ends of your ribbons sifting through his slender fingers. You relax against him and your body does it for you. It welcomes his tenderness, glad for the truth to be out. You fight against it—against yourself, willing your decision not to break but remain firm. 

No strings, no pain.

But to no avail. The light spreads. His light. Celestial twinkles of stars, small parts of him that make him who he is. 

“You’ve never had anyone before me?” he husks, regret glossing over his eyes, holding your head firmly as he awaits your answer. More stars spill like liquid. 

You shake your head ‘no’, your chest tightening. 

He kisses you and there’s something different about the way he does it. Now you can sense the carefulness you searched for earlier and you taste the primal core of loving care in the movement of his lips. The kisses are long, deep. As if you’re a different person now, a girl unlike any of the ones he mentioned. Someone who matters, someone who’s solid. You’re back at the beginning. 

A lump forms in your throat. 

“You sure about this?” he asks. 

One part of you, greater and illuminated by his stars, wants it gently like this, with flowers of innocence and purity besprinkled across his features, never leaving you out of his sight, taking care of you. But you fear that if you allow him to be tender, your heart will choose him again and cling to his side. The other, more faint part of you, affected by your decision, thinks it’s better to stick to the role-play, for there’s the aspect of illusoriness that will not bruise anyone’s hearts, especially not yours. It will make you horny, Jungkook will get you off and, glowing, you’ll go home.

You can’t decide. It’s too much of a heavy weight to bear on your shoulders. You can’t do it.

You need him to say the word. You need him to decide what will be the face of the trajectory of your premium friendship. 

Flowery or deceitful? 

A small candlelight in you hopes for gentleness and purity before your fear unfairly puffs it out. 

“Yes, I’m sure. I want you.” 

Jungkook lays you down and, at last, you feel his manhood against you. He bends to pepper apologetic kisses along the column of your neck and you feel the authenticity of his regret, thrumming against you warmly. Your breath hitches in your throat, the principle of the candlelight in you not being a high hope after all—

“I’m sorry. I should’ve gone about this better.” A kiss to your cheek; you stifle your sobs. “I should’ve checked in with you, but I jumped straight in. This was a mistake on my part. I’m sorry.”

He blames himself, not you. 

You want to remain stoic, but his authenticity beckons yours to come out and envelop him whole, gives access to your emotions and you can’t stop the miniature teardrop from flowing down the side of your nose. Neither can you stop the words that follow its footsteps. 

“I should’ve told you first,” you whisper, sniffling. Jungkook furrows his brows at the expression of your pain in tender emotion, wiping it away. “But I was bad—reckless.” 

He chuckles softly, caressing your hair. “You’re an angel. Sent to my side for me. You weren’t bad. I didn’t mean what I'd said.” 

His words, his touch, the kiss he adds to your cheek to punctuate his sentence—Jungkook erases everything that has just happened. 

Newness rushes in your chest, the pouring of spring into summer permeates your whole being. You hear the birds sing, the rustle of flimsy flower petals on tree branches as the warm wind grazes it with its touch. Jungkook seals this feeling by pressing a kiss to your sternum. 

He said it, so it must be so. You trust him. 

The firmness of the cage around your decision unlatches. Doesn’t fly away like the birds. Is a little bit afraid of peeking out. The candlelight returns to light up the room around that cage, blossoming into the sun. 

“We don’t have to do anything, if you don’t want to,” he says, looking up at you from the place where he dragged your top down to kiss your skin. 

The sun rays in you absorb all of the darkness. The firmness extends one wing. 

You run your fingers through his hair. Figure the only thing the summer in you is missing is the heat. You want him, you want sex and you don’t want to think about feelings or consequences. You don’t want to choose between anything anymore. You just want to enjoy yourself. 

“I meant it when I said that I want you to be my first,” you say, fingers curling around his ear. Jungkook leans into your touch and it’s as if he’s massaging the wing to alleviate it from a cramp due to being tucked in for so long. 

“Okay,” he sighs, taking your hands and pinning them on the pillow and bunny above your head. He sits up, examines you and you wonder if he can see how truly fragile you feel. “Do you trust me?” 

He’s had half a year of going out with you, mingling his life with yours, spending money on you and treating you like an absolute treasure to build your overall trust. And what he did just now? How he erased your pain? Your nod is immediate; you don’t need to think twice. 

“Of course I trust you.” 

“Good.” A soft smile. “I’ll make sure your first time will be beautiful for you.” 

Your heart thuds. His words steal all the breath in your lungs, smoothing out the surface of your body for his stars to fill. Tears prick at your waterline. 

“Are you scared?” 

You’re an empty canvas. 

“Not anymore.” 

Jungkook nods, gladness pulsating off of him. “I’ll be here the whole time. I won’t leave you, not even once, okay?” 

“Okay.” 

He finds the zipper on the side of your skirt and yanks it down. “How many times do you wanna come?” 

The ridiculousness of the question makes you laugh and you hide your face beneath your palms. “To be honest, I don’t expect to come at all. It is my first time after all.” 

You marvel at the honesty seeping out of you. His work, no doubt. 

Jungkook frowns, ridding you of the skirt, fingers hooking under the hem of your top. At the reveal of your pink, flowery, see-through bra, he stops altogether, stunned. He fondles the material, grazing over your soft nipples, at last reaching the embroidery of the small petals. He gasps in wonder, eyes flicking to your intimate parts to see if you’re wearing a matching set. 

The same flowers adorn the suppleness of your tummy. 

Jungkook smiles at his discovery. Is hasty as he drags the nylon of your tights down your legs, along with your knee socks. 

“I’ll decide how many times you come for me, then.” 

Heat pools in your femininity. There it is, the dominance that you love. Yet this time, it’s laced with his gentleness. Heaven on earth—a meadow full of flowers in the middle of summer. Like the ones on your lingerie. 

Joy grasps your heart. “Do I get to know before you start?” 

Jungkook chuckles, pressing a kiss on your tummy. “What, you wanna count them down for me?” 

You asked just because, but the idea excites you. You nod. 

Your response prolongs the rumble of his laughter and you feel its vibration as he kisses his way up to your clothed breasts. You’d think he’d focus his attention on them, but he straightens—reaches for something behind him and retrieves your white knee socks. He bunches them in his hands and puts them on you as if he were dressing a child. 

Paradoxically, goosebumps spread all over your thighs. 

Smoothing the material over your thighs, he lies back down against you, lips latching on the spillage of your breasts that your bra gives him. While it feels dizzying, you still want to know the number. You poke him in the bulging muscle of his arm and in the process, you flush his cheeks red. 

Jungkook pushes your tits together and licks over the line in the middle. The sight of the shine of his wet tongue against it drenches your pussy, ruining your pretty underwear, and you want him there, on your sweetest spot. Your nipples stand to attention and Jungkook listens to their call, thumbs brushing across them. 

You mewl, grinding your hips against his stomach. 

“Two times when I eat you out; two times around my cock,” he answers finally, awakening your butterflies. “How many times is that, then?” 

Amidst the pleasure, you do the math. “Four.” 

“That’s right. You think you can do that for me?” 

You’re not sure. In fact, you’re not sure of anything—lost in his touch, in his energy. 

“I don’t know,” you say, truthfully, skimming his face for a sliver of disappointment in his features. 

You find none. Only tenderness—round, soft eyes, brown in the light he radiates, nose and mouth buried in your tits, sucking on the skin, making you feel good. 

“That’s okay. We’ll try together. Nothing bad is gonna happen to you if you don’t come as many times. Or at all. I promise.” 

Your chest clenches. You grab his face and kiss him, licking over his bottom lip before you slip your tongue inside. Jungkook grunts, rolls his own muscle over yours, tasting you, feeling you. He inhales sharply against you, once again taking charge of the kiss, taking each and every thought and negative feeling you had and crushing it to smithereens. 

He lifts you and switches places with you, sitting you down on his lap with your back supported by his chest. He roams his hands all over you—tits, tummy, hips, sides and thighs while he busies his mouth on your shoulder. As your eyes follow each movement, you notice the marks he embellished your breasts with and your arousal grows—so much that you take his wandering hands and hook them under the waistband of your underwear, guiding them down your thighs. 

There’s a change to his breath when his index and middle finger feels up the fleshiness of your cunt for the first time. Hard, raggedy and absolutely tormented. He glides those digits up and down your dewiness, listening for the squelching sound that makes his cock twitch beneath you. 

He moans onto your neck, nose tracing the column on its way to your ear.  “How do you touch yourself?” 

A sudden shyness overtakes you and you turn your head, needing to hide in his neck this time. You remain silent, the words lodged in your throat. 

Jungkook sees you. 

“Do you rub your little clit from side to side or in circles?” he questions, helping you answer. 

“I—I like both,” you whisper onto his skin, moving your hips so his fingers slip to your clit, the sweet spot where you need him the most. He grabs the back of your thigh and lifts it, spreading you open, meanwhile you chase the firmness of his fingers.

“Just like that, ride them,” he husks, eyes dazed, fixed on the roll of your pelvis. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” 

Head on top of yours, you nod, never ceasing your movement, transfixed, just like him, by the constant way the pads of his fingers fondle your clit before dipping between your lips. The heat of the summer tightens in your lower belly and it’s a desperate litany of begging what your mouth utters, despite the fact you’re not really sure what you’re asking for, but you let him hear it. You’re close, so unbelievably close, yet still have a road to walk on before you, and you close your eyes to feel the delight of his touch more deeply, only to find that you manage to do nothing of the kind. 

When you sense his eyes on you and by instinct you reciprocate his stare, that’s when you feel the depth you sought after. Mouth parted, pupils dilated, eyelashes a drowsy catastrophe, messy hair casting a soft shadow over the planes of his blissed-out face. You want to kiss him. You want to make him feel as good as he’s making you feel—

“Let me do it now,” Jungkook says hurriedly, sensing the nearness of your climax. 

“Yes,” you croak out, halting the movement of your hips—and ‘yes’ is the word that ripples out of your mouth a hundred, a thousand more times when he spreads you wider and rubs his fingers on your clit from side to side. 

He feels the pleasure in sync with you, accepting all of your yes’, twisting his face the moment yours does, quickening the rapidness of his hand once he switches to circles to carry you to your summer-breathed paradise. 

And when you come all over his hand, he slips two fingers inside your hole.

He stills the buck of your hips. 

You widen your eyes at the new feeling of fullness and, panicking and constricting around him, you look at Jungkook, who merely strengthens his hold around you. 

“Trust me,” he says, breathing heavily. He doesn’t move his fingers past his first knuckles; he lets you adjust to the size. Gives you a kiss full of tongue to distract you. “Does it burn?”

You begin to pant against his mouth, the high of your orgasm long gone. You’re uncertain to count it as one when it was so short lived, ruined by the sudden plunge of his digits. But much to your surprise, you don’t detect any burn in your walls that he speaks of, which you realize was his intention.

“No, it just feels a bit uncomfortable.” 

He kisses you again. You feel your lips go numb, eyes lidding at the pressure you feel as he sinks his fingers a little bit deeper and begins to move them sluggishly, your slick creating another ring for him around his fingers. You try to meet his thrusts as the visceral sensation of being filled by longer, thicker fingers settles within you and takes roots. You discover that movement is the key to parting the uncomfortable feeling and it steps to the side to let the pleasure walk forward.  

Jungkook presses his palm flat against your clit, guides the pleasure to envelop your body when he plunges his fingers deeper, past the second knuckles and fucks you in swift jerks. Your mouth falls open in a silent moan and he fills in the sound, expressing his fiery delight for you at the clench of your walls against him, accommodating for him, for his desire to stretch you out, so when he finally enters you, no pain comes to greet you. 

Deeper and harder—yes, that’s what feels good. You roll your body, becoming waves of the sea as wetness and the build up of pleasure—seafoam—is all your senses wrap around. 

“Feels good, baby?” 

His need to check in with you speeds up the nearing expansion of your orgasm. Pointer and pinky finger digging into the skin of your backside, you watch the in and out motion, the digits coming out wetter and wetter each time.

“Feels so fucking good. I’m gonna come. I’m so close.” 

It’s quicker. Way quicker than your first tiny orgasm. He slips in and out of you so smoothly—you’re obsessed with the sight, ravaged by it entirely. You grind your hips and fuck yourself back, picking up the pace but slowing down instantly when you feel yourself at the peak of your climax.

You want to prolong it. You love the feeling too much to end it too soon.

Jungkook stops your movements fully.

“I want to be the one who makes you come,” he murmurs. “I want to be the one who fucks your brain out. I want to feel you squeeze around my fingers. Fuck, I want it so bad.” 

His hand drifts to your neck just to hold you there, the other, the busy one, fingers you harder, your fast approaching orgasm blinding your senses. Your drenched cunt squelches around him, the sound so lewd it causes you to seek comfort—your hand flies to his on your throat, fingers wrapping around his wrist, the tip of your pointer reaching the fat bulb of bunny’s head on his ring. 

Harder and faster. A scalding fire burns you and you just take it. Loll your head back against his shoulder, giving him the space to grip your jawline. Flames grow closer and closer, leaving a layer of sheen on your body in its wake. You feel the sudden need to pee.

“Oh my god, Gguk—” Your muscles tense. Close, so close. “Gguk, Gguk—”

“What, baby? What’s the matter?” he husks, squeezing your neck once. “You’re gonna come for me? Gonna come on my fingers?” 

You nod quickly, too quickly. Flames of the sun, licking you. Flames of the summer heat. Just what you wanted. 

Jungkook opens your jaw, swirling his tongue around yours. “Let go. Come for me. You can do it, I got you—I got you. Come for me, baby, please.”

Obeying his desperate order, you do.

A small stream of your pleasure, a faint fountain, trickles out of you and into his hand. He gasps, in unison with your whimpers, and you’re transmitted elsewhere. The wildly colorful, blooming meadow on a hill, overlooking the languorous sea and he’s there. Reaches behind himself. Offers you his hand. The wind ruffles his black hair, sweeps it back and you’re giddy—as giddy as Bam, as giddy as you were in the moment the slid the white bunny ring on your finger—to take the last two of his slender fingers, the pinky and the ring, and sit with him by the edge of the cliff. 

“Did so well for me.” 

The whisper takes you back and you awake. 

You’re different. Incandescent. Of life, of stars and its light, of growing fondness for the man you sit perched on the lap of, whose fingers still remain sheathed inside of you. He changed you. Perpetually, absolutely. He changed you and made you into something new. Something that is softer, more elegant—smaller but assertive. Alluring and kind. Indisputably good. 

He fucked everything negative out of you with his fingers. Left the vast canvas of stars inside of you.

You’re no longer a plain spread of cotton, but a living, breathing artwork. His artwork.

Once he fucks you with his cock, you wonder what further internal changes are going to occur within you.

You feel a great deal of gratitude for him—and you want to reciprocate all that he’s done for you. You want to work hard at it. Spoil him. Make him whimper. You believe he deserves it.   

“You finger yourself often? How come you took my fingers so well, hm?” 

You’re panting, unable to speak. Absorbing the sharpness of the stars, acclimatizing to the change. 

“I guess you do, huh?” he deduces. “Good little girl, preparing herself for me.” 

For the life of you, you can’t catch your breath.

Jungkook kisses your cheek deeply. Pecks you on the same spot a hundred times, slowly taking out his fingers. Lets you see your slick coating his fingers and, softly, you gasp at the little ripples of wrinkles upon the tips of his fingers, mouth parting.

And then he sinks them into your mouth. 

His hardness twitches behind you and you moan, your daintily bittersweet taste making your head spin. And when you look at him, you’re met with the utmost pink-dusted adoration painted on his face. You kiss it, inhaling it, letting it flow into your system so it suffuses your bloodstream, letting him taste you. You may not feel your lips, but the sentient poetry of the stars begins to sing in you. His stars. You feel like a flushed floweret visited by a bee. Spent, but happy. 

Happy to be wanted.

Good, because he said you were.

As if internally intertwined with him, you feel the identical heat tinge your cheeks. 

He says nothing as he lays you down and spreads your legs back to the way they were. Though when he’s graced with the sight of your bare cunt in all her glory, his face says everything that his mouth isn’t capable of. Hunger and torture—lips agape, corners of the mouth shiny with the rush of drool and Jungkook wipes it away, then lowers his fingers to your clit, to your lips, becoming more acquainted with this intimate part of you that no one had seen before him. He traces your small hole, even going as far as to your other, tinier hole and you yelp, stopping his exploration. 

Jungkook merely chuckles, eyes darting to yours. “You’re so pretty.” You grow so hot that you think you must be on fire. “Especially there.” 

You mewl, shrinking, hands looking for anything to hold and finding his bunny plushie. You take her into your arms, inhaling a scent that could never be hers. You recognize immediately whose it is. 

Musk, vanilla, wood. 

The thought of Jungkook cradling her while he sleeps moves you and you pout. 

“How we feeling?” he asks, still caressing your fleshy cunt, dripping with dew. 

Overjoyed. Overstimulated.

Heavenly.

“Good.” 

A foxy smile. “How many orgasms was that, hm?” 

You don’t know where your shyness comes from and why it chokes all of the words you want to say. You bury your face in bunny for a moment, taking a breath to fight against it, so you can please him because that’s all you yearn to do. 

You open your mouth, but no words come out. 

Jungkook stifles a laugh and it makes you feel terrible. And it’s worse when he leans over to kiss you, turns his head at the last moment and faces bunny.

“Bunny, how many times did she come?” he asks her, offering her his ear to hear her answer. Looks at you. Widens his eyes. Gasps. “Two,” he mouths. Listens some more. Nods. “I know she thought she wouldn’t come at all. Crazy, right?” Then he lets out an endearing sound. “She said she’d believed you could do it the moment you said it. She’s so happy for you. How cute,” he coos. 

You giggle, the bridge in your throat loosening, light flooding you, over and over, until you think you can’t take any more of it. You feel so full, so happy and the sensation threatens to pour out of your tear ducts. 

It heals something within you—that he treats you like this at your most vulnerable state. Your inner child flares, the stars the strength that fixes her stoop, helping her arise, stand straight, stand powerfully. 

He smiles down fondly at you. “So what number are we at?” 

You hide your face behind your hands. “Two.” 

“What did you say? I didn’t catch that.” 

You drop your hands and with as much energy as you can muster, you repeat the number. 

He purrs, caressing your cheek. “Good girl.” As a reward, as if the praise wasn’t enough, he kisses you deeply. “Will you let me taste you?” 

You swallow his desire, but speak up your own, “I want to taste you first, please.” 

Jungkook hums, curses under his breath. He straightens and kneels before your form, fingers pinching the back of his T-shirt and pulling it over his body. You catch the sight of his broad shoulders, of each dip and muscle, and your irises grown in width. Him ridding himself of his clothes dishevels his hair and as he untangles his arms from the material, he smiles down at you, noticing your stare. 

He caresses the back of your thigh before his hand flies to his hard length. He palms himself once, then continues to undress—tugs his sweatpants down to his knees, though he doesn’t bother himself to fully take them off. The shape of him is more prominent through the fabric of his white Calvins, the bulge of his mushroom wet and pellucid, and you sit up, hand itching to touch him, to join his in making him feel good, but he cups your chin—forcing you to look up at him. 

He swipes his thumb over your lips. “You want it?” 

You nod. “So bad.” 

Jungkook curses again, the sound low and rough. 

“Touch it,” he orders and both of your hands listen, wrapping around his girth, squeezing beneath the head of his cock. The thickness of him makes you see the light of the stars that you sense fluttering feverishly inside of you. Your mind is too empty, too washed out by your orgasm, by the change that you don’t even think about how you’re going to take him. Jungkook hisses, tilting his head back before he looks down at you intently. “You did this before?” 

You’ve never seen one in real life before, let alone touched one.

“I’ve never let anyone get this close.” 

Jungkook strokes your pigtails. “How come you know what to do then?” 

Instinct or memory from porn you watched—you don’t know, it all blends together within the fuzziness of your mind. And you tell him.

“I watch a lot of porn.” 

Jungkook smiles coyly and it strikes you. You’ve never seen him smile this way before or, even, feel this way before. All you know from him is dominance, dominance and dominance. 

You release him from the confines of his boxers and repress your gasp. His ever glistening tip reaches just below his navel and the thickness of his girth obscures most of his pubic hair. Along with the sound of your surprise, you also have a hard time swallowing the saliva collecting in your mouth. 

“I want you so bad,” you whisper, needy eyes looking up at him. Shy, too shy to let your gaze linger at the most intimate part of him. 

He sucks in a breath at your words, hissing. And you need him inside of you all over again. 

Fuck fuzzines in your mind. You’re fuzzy all over. Wrecked with nerves, suddenly. Your hands tremble, hovering in front of his manhood. Jungkook covers them with his, soothing you, and guides you to his shaft. Wraps your fingers around him. Doesn’t let go. 

The feel of him under his supervision is slow. He allows you to take in every ridge of him, every vein—the softness of his skin, the warmth and the weight. Round after round, up and down, until you get familiarized with him. A trickle of his male essence drips down the side of him and your tongue instinctively darts out. Like your hands, Jungkook’s breath shakes and he anticipates your next move, despite the fact he’s in charge. 

He’s been patient all this time, giving you the time you needed. But that hardly applies when you have him in your hands, when you own his neediness. His whimpers while he waits coax your slick out of you, soaking the bedding beneath you and you can’t take it anymore. 

Neither, evidently, can he. 

“Baby, please,” Jungkook croaks out. Tortured, so terribly tortured. Grip tight and clammy around your hands. 

So vulnerable. 

You ache. 

You lick up a stripe of his essence on the side of his cock and Jungkook shudders. Shifting onto your knees, you show him the milkie on the tip of your tongue and Jungkook pulls your hair, tilting your head back. Kisses you nastily, licking into your mouth. Moans, lowly. Then, he holds his girth at the base and pushes your head. 

When you take him, a mewl ripples around the thickness of him. His eyes roll back and his grasp of your hair tightens, burning your scalp, adding to the fire. He lets you feel it out; lets you figure out what to do, testing your knowledge from the porn you’ve watched. And the tensing of his stomach divulges his strained effort not to fuck your mouth. 

You go slow about it. Swirling your tongue around that rosy head of his, along that delicious ridge, licking a flat stripe across that line of his slit. Getting to know him in all those intimate places, relying on your senses—on them to tell you what he likes. Your hand begins to move on its own, gliding back and forth in tandem with your tongue stimulating his sensitivity. You try not to think about how you can barely fit him in your mouth, because if you do—you’ll ruin his bedsheets. 

But then Jungkook hums in approval, sending a gush of wetness out of you and you whimper—you whimper at the worsening ache you feel, at the helplessness that pools in your system by being just so filthily wet and horny. 

He moves your hand faster. Breath jagged, bedroom eyes zeroing down on you. And then—

Jungkook moans your name. Over and over, clenching and unclenching his hand on the back of your head. 

“Don’t have to teach you shit,” he spits. “You just watch porn all day, don’t you? Naughty girl.” 

Losing control for a split second, he rams his cock into your throat—and you don’t panic, you don’t yelp. Instead, you groan. 

He pulls you away from him with a sharp tug. Kisses you harshly. Shoves you down into the pillows with one push on your sternum.

Bending you in half, he drinks your cunt. Lips immediately suck on your needy bundle of nerves and it’s so fast you don’t even know which part of you he’s focusing on because he’s everywhere. Clit, hole, clit, hole—sucking, licking. Alternating, alternating so swiftly and deliciously that you completely lose your mind. 

And then he lifts your hips and holds them in the air, wanting you to see what he’s doing to you. Like you, he darts out his tongue and teases you, hovering the muscle above your clit. Shiny, nimble, capable of doing unspeakable things to you. He watches as your pussy drools for him and he chuckles darkly. Tongue lowering to collect it, but unlike you he never does it. He lets the dew trickle down your skin. 

“Cute little pussy. So wet. Wetter than when I fucked it. You liked playing with me on your knees, didn’t you?” 

With your fucked out brain, you don’t think it’s taunting what he’s doing. You deem it’s just him reveling in what he’s able to do to your body—in the fact that he owns it, that he teaches it new things. The glint in his dusky, lustful eyes proves it. 

Jungkook drags a long stripe on your clit, making your eyes flutter closed and your teeth to sink into your bottom lip to cage in your moans. 

“Talk to me.” 

You can’t. You don’t know how to talk. 

He stares you down. 

No answer from you. Just hard pants. Pussy drooling. 

“I won’t play with you, then.” 

Panic. “No.” 

He cocks a brow at you. “No?” 

Silence. 

He begins to lower you down but you grip his forearm. 

“Jungkook.” 

Bent over above you, head low, he merely flicks his eyes to yours. Duskiness, such blackening duskiness in those orbs. 

“Beg.” 

All your muscles tense. Wetness gushes out of you. 

Lucky for you, that word he wants is the one you haven’t forgotten. 

“Please.” 

“Please what?” 

You groan in frustration. 

“Be nice or—”

“Please, lick me.” 

That dark chuckle. You feel yourself becoming obsessed with it. 

“Where?” 

A challenge. Your throat dries up. 

“There.” 

He shakes his head disapprovingly, making a sound that expresses just how much he didn’t like that. 

“Try again. Last chance, little girl.” 

The loving smile on his face says everything about how that threat is feigned. You hear it tell you—you have as many chances as you need. He’s merely encouraging you to step out of your comfort zone. 

And something about that mellow, hidden kindness gently ushers you to do just that. 

“Lick my clit, please.” 

A hum. A long stripe on that sensitive, thumping spot. A roll of his tongue forward and backward.  

“Like this?” 

You choke out a moan. 

“Yes, please.” 

“Or—” He blows on you, causing you to tremble. “Like this?”

He shakes his head against you briskly, not yet at a full tilt. Just like his, your body shudders in his hands and he tightens his grip on your supple hips. You can’t take it, the pleasure is overwhelming and—

“Look at me,” he orders and you open your eyes, immediately. “Like this?” 

Jungkook adds more pressure and rapidness to the movement, leaving you glazed sweetly in the sheen of his saliva. He moves your hips up and down on the firmness of his tongue and you scream, taking a strong hold of his hair.

“Oh my god, yes, fuck, Daddy—”

Shocked, Jungkook groans against your pussy, slowing down to ingest what your mouth has just uttered. It’s more than natural to call him by a title like this, instinctual, innate. It fits him so well and it drenches your pussy, your slick amalgamating with his liquid love. You’re certain he feels the rush.

Your Daddy. 

You roll your hips against his tongue. Dark and more dark, those eyes of his. Bottomless pit.

“Fuck yes, call me Daddy again.” 

The whimpers you let out are pathetic and Jungkook shudders at them, groaning. You whine the title over and over again, a verdant, dreamlike litany of your feminine sexuality pampered, cared for, supervised. Jungkook accepts the gravity of it all, each declaration propelling him to suck your clit harder, bruises forming on your hips from his deathly grip, black eyes never leaving yours, hypnotizing you. 

And when you come like this, it’s unification what happens. 

You’re bound to him and he’s bound to you. 

Daddy and little girl. 

Throughout your sexual experience today, you had a hard time accepting things but this—this is something that slept inside of you all your life and just now has been awoken to a flickering canvas of bright stars. You feel it blink, adjust to the piercing light, before it smiles dolefully—happy to be conscious, happy to be caressed.

Jungkook kisses you and takes his time. The taste of your femininity, the fresh coldness of your change, the strong wine of his desire. You’re drunk. You’re slurring your mewls. 

And one thing about unification, it’s a mirror. 

You swallow down the same mewls, uttered by his throat. 

“Daddy’s gonna give it to you,” he whispers, adjusting between your legs. “Will be gentle. You’re safe with me.” 

He rakes the tip of his length along the entirety of your little sea-kissed seashell. 

“You want it? You want Daddy’s cock inside of you?” 

Jungkook looks into your eyes deeply as he asks you that question, the tip ready at your significantly smaller hole. He peppers kisses along your jawline and chin. 

“I’m scared it’ll hurt,” you murmur, brows furrowed. 

He kisses your cheek, the corner of your mouth. 

“We’ll chase the pain away,” he promises.

Your frown deepens. 

“But what if it doesn’t fit?” 

You expect him to chuckle, but he does no such thing. He absorbs your worry by kissing you tenderly. Then he glances at your body. Remembers he never took off your bra and fixes his mistake. 

“You may be small, but you were made to take me,” he says and your heart skips a beat; you wonder if he understands the gravity of his words as they take roots within you, rising to bloom into splendid flowers. “Besides, my dick is tiny. You won’t even feel it.” 

It is so far from the truth that you burst into giggles. He laughs along with you—a mirror reflected. 

Stars and flowers. Sea and freshness. You were made to take him. You trust him. 

He kisses your breasts, licking over your nipple—but briefly. Holding his shaft, he asks if you’re ready. You nod, your fingers desperately searching for his and Jungkook notices. Sinking slowly inside of you, he grabs his bunny plushie and tucks her into the crook of your elbow. 

There’s a pinch of pain, blended with the feeling of discomfort as your walls stretch around his head. 

Seeing it painted on your face, Jungkook draws close, enveloping you and bunny in his heat. Pushes a little more in. You wail softly, the pain intensifying. Fear intermingles with your features and Jungkook—the worry in his countenance makes you almost weep.

“Hold onto me,” he says, brows scrunched, so—so serious. “Relax, baby. I got you.”

You hook your arms around his neck, bunny sandwiched between your chest and his. Jungkook saves this time to let you adjust around him. 

“I know it hurts,” he whispers onto your mouth, index finger, the ringed one, stretching to graze your cheek. “Just relax your muscles for me. It’ll feel good soon.” 

You nod, trusting him. 

He pecks you. Smiles. 

“How many orgasms are we at?” 

You roll your eyes, your own smile threatening your lips. “Three.”

Jungkook hums. Pecks you again. You feel your walls loosening, little by little.

A smug smirk. “You didn’t expect that, did you?” 

“You obliterated my expectations.” 

“Just wait until I fuck you properly.” 

You blush, eyes twinkling. 

“Pretty girl.” He kisses you and you feel your attachment forming again, though this time—newly. As light, as free as an entanglement of seaweed upon seashore, you and him. Connected. Bound. No fear, not even a hint of it. “I heard you watch porn.” 

Your flush deepens. Jungkook sinks a little deeper. A faint pain—nothing bad. 

“Who told you?” You laugh, the sound ridding you of your shyness. 

But Jungkook grows solemn.

“Tell me what kind you watch,” he whispers, angling his head to give you a tiny kiss. 

Your cheeks hurt from the smiling, from the onrush of emotions within you, sloshing to and fro. You feel hot all over.

“The one where all the focus is on the girl,” you whisper back. “The guy uses all kinds of toys on her and she just takes it. Comes so many times and there’s a countdown for it.”

Humming, he begins to nibble on the skin beneath your jaw, making your breath shallow. He pushes in another inch—and the pain is worse. You tighten your grip around him.

“And how many times do you come when you watch it?” Deep, deep is his voice, the calmness to your nerves due to the pricking you feel. 

“I don’t stop coming.” 

Jungkook swears under his breath and clenches his digits into a fist beside your head.

“And you finger yourself?” 

You nod, confidently. Another inch. He smiles at your confirmation of his deduction.

“How many fingers?” 

You scoff. “Just one.” 

“Well done,” he praises, kissing you once, keeping his mouth on you even as he asks, “ready?” 

You nod, again, even though there’s fright to your eyes. He sees it and he brushes his eyelashes against your eyelids while he kisses you, taking it all away. And he doesn’t stop, even as he pulls out and thrusts back into your heat. Gently, so awfully gently. 

He didn’t break his promise. 

Jungkook rocks his hips in slow, sensual, prolonged staccatos, moaning into your parted mouth. You’re so focused on him—on the bulging of his muscles on the either side of your head, the broadness of his shoulders, the slick sweat dripping down his neck, right from the top of his tattoo; on the sheerness of his pleasure as he moves in and out, carefully so as to not frighten you, that the pain quickly subsides. 

And there you feel it. 

The sensation unlike any other. 

He rams into you, seeing the wrinkle between your brows smoothing, the lust clouding your eyes as the delight spreads all over your body, bringing along little dots of goosebumps. The night sea, windless, still hot from the afternoon’s goodbye kiss. You feel it—and you feel it deeply, sinking inside of you with every inch of his manhood. So much that you meet his thrusts. 

“That’s it, baby. Fuck yes,” Jungkook murmurs, enraging the waves within. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Being fucked?” 

Stars and its light. He picks up the pace, hooking your leg over his shoulder, entering you deeper and deeper, giving you more than half. The thrill of feeling so full—you curse, you moan, you can’t hold it in, even if you tried. And Jungkook coos at your conveyance of the pleasure he’s giving you, never lifting his eyes off of yours, off of your features, your emotions. Surveying you, controlling you, making sure you’re okay—more than okay.

You sense the pressure coil deep within your core, the sense of your climax approaching and you’re astonished at how quick it is. You halt your own movements, needing—wanting him to be the one to get you there, the one who owns your orgasms. 

“Gguk, Gguk, fuck—”

“I know,” he breathes. “I’m gonna make you come all over my cock.” 

He fucks you harder, making you cry out. Deep, deep staccatos, so different from the slow, languid ones. You can’t catch your breath, the sea within you sloshes violently and then—

Softly, you sprinkle him with your fountain of pleasure. Not enough to drive him out, but sweetly enough to force him to groan against you and pound you harder into the mattress. Continuing as if you hadn’t come. 

You don’t have the time or the space to think about what just happened—he fucks each and every thought of you. 

“My little squirter,” Jungkook mutters, kissing you. “One more, baby. One more for me and I’ll paint you with my cummie. Hm, you want that?” You’re gone, flung out of this world into a tranquil island. The palm trees, the sea and his cock. Your emotions are numb, body limp. All you feel is his cock, ramming and ramming into you. “Or you wanna swallow it for me like a good girl?” 

“Swallow, please,” you croak out and Jungkook makes a sound of approval. Rewards you by giving you the full thing, filling you balls-deep. 

“You feel me?” He kisses you, tugging your bottom lip with his teeth. 

Glorious, glorious delight. You can’t breathe. Too much. 

“I feel you—” You lift your head to look down where you’re connected. “I—I feel you in my stomach.” 

Sitting back, he lifts your hips and palms the bulge just a little bit above your mound. Feels it move under him once he resumes fucking you. He replaces his hand with yours, keeping you distracted as he undoes the ribbon in your hair and ties your wrists with it. Right there above the bulge, where he fucks you. Then he latches onto your hips and jackhammers his cock into you, watching as your tits along with bunny bounce with each slam. 

“You look so pretty like this, tied up for me, taking all that I’m giving you,” he says, thumbing your clit, making you cry out. “Such a good fucking girl for me. I’m bringing you up so well.” 

“Daddy,” you call out and Jungkook nods.

“Yes, that’s right. Daddy is fucking you so good.” 

White flashes. Seafoam. The pressure in your tummy deepening and deepening. The roar of the night sea and your body following—you come all over him, painting him iridescent with your dewiness. His joggers, dragged halfway down his thighs, his boxers are all ruined—pelvis, thighs and cock glistening. It’s such a beautiful image to you that it suffuses you with energy and you begin to speak. 

“Please, come for me.” 

Surprised, Jungkook chuckles. “Don’t you have orgasms to count down?” 

The ever persistent need for control. You kiss him, slip your tongue into his mouth to shut him up and you struggle against your ribbon, for the feeling of kissing him without your hands makes you feel iffy.

“Five. I came five times for you just like you wanted,” you whisper. “You fucked me so good. I’ll never forget it.” 

And it’s the truth.

Jungkook pecks you once deeply, humming into the kiss. He pulls out of you and whilst he strokes his cock, his fingers tug down the ribbon around your wrists. You take your place on your knees, gazing with awe and hunger at his shiny length. And as if he needed it, he plunges his fingers into your mouth for more lubrication. Then, grabbing your jawline gently, he pulls you in towards his cock, letting your lips play with his tip the way you like it as he jerks himself off. You flick your tongue under the ridge of his head and his length twitches, stunning you. You do it again, more rapidly, and you don’t stop until Jungkook begins to tremble. Pulling him inside your mouth, then out, flicking faster and faster. Repeat. 

Jungkook grunts. 

“Yes, like that, princess. Fuck, I’m gonna come for you.” 

He announces it, but it still comes as a surprise when the first rope of hot cum spills onto your flushed cheek. You suck him harder for a moment before you stick out your tongue, eyes flick up, as he empties his balls for you, his hand never ceasing the swift tug on his length. 

And he just keeps coming. Rope after rope. Liquid star after star.

And you swallow it all. 

Spent, sweaty and breathless, he helps you swallow it. Dragging his fingers to the places your tongue can’t reach, he feeds you his cum and you suck on his digits. Your heart thuds in your ribcage, especially when he begins to play with your tongue, smiling down at you in that dopey way. 

He pats you on the cheek once you show him you’ve swallowed it all. 

“Good girl. Good little princess.” 

That you are. A changed person for all eternity.

“Is your tummy full?” 

You nod, beaming vehemently up at him, the aftertaste of the bitterness of his liquid stars still wafting through your senses.

The three forbidden words rise in your tongue, even though you don’t believe them—you think it’s just the opulence of new emotions and experience that forces those words on your tongue. But they remain adamant when he bathes you clean, when he brushes your hair and gives you his clothes to wear to bed. They provoke you right there on the tip of your tongue when he gives you his zipper hoodie to wear on his balcony once you tell him you need a smoke and he joins you, giving you his pack of cigarettes. 

And they come off the edge, in a different form, when you tell him of how he changed you while you hold his hand and he caresses your damp strands with a cigarette propped between his index and middle fingers, kissing your cheek. The smoke fixes a makeshift halo around both of your heads. One body, one halo. Bound.

“You’re such a lovable person, Gguk.”

What you don’t know is that those mere words changed the entire trajectory of his life. Yours, too.

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

BACK to masterlist / read part one, read part two, part three

#jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts imagine #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fluff #btscreatorscorner #kpop smut #jungkook one shot

[hoshigray]

𝐒𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐥𝐲, 𝐈 𝐇𝐚𝐝 𝐚 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞 | satoru gojō

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Going on a date with the guy who broke your heart is something you’d never thought would happen – especially on Valentine’s Day! But it’s just for him to be in your good graces again, nothing more…Yeah, go ahead and tell yourself that.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Gojo x fem/afab! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern + college AU - frenemies to lovers + mutual pining + confessions - Gojo and reader are at least age 20 - going on a date - sex in a public space; hotel room - breast fondling + sucking + nipple play - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! receiving) - clitoral play (sucking and swiping) - missionary position - unprotected sex (psa: wrap it up or get tf up + Gojo doesn't shoot inside) - pet names (baby, cutie pretty, princess, sweetie) - angst + fluff - cameos: Shoko, Mei Mei, Utahime, Geto, Nanami - mentions of tears and spit - humor bc I'm [not] funny.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 10.3k (going out with a bang, jfc)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: final part to this short yet fun story !! tysm for the love you've given this series, it was a random idea that came to me last year and I'm so glad I was able to put more thought into it. all y'all's comments and rbs have been entertaining to read thru, love the support and engagement this story sparked with you, and I thank you sm for sticking around ccc: also!!! ty for 5.9k loveliessss mwah mwah~

and lol, yes, the title is based on the laufey song, hehe~

prev story » ❤︎

“Sorry, Satoru, Y/n doesn’t wanna see you right now — like, at all.”

“Oh, Gojo. Sorry, Y/n’s in no mood to talk to you right now. Said you better not make so much as a step past this door. Because if you do, I’ll have to charge your savings.”

“Hmph, you got some nerve, Gojo! Didn’t you hear from Mei Mei earlier? Y/n doesn't wanna talk to you…What the hell did you do this time?”

You could hear your roommates telling off the person showing up at the front door from your door. Before, they’d come to you and ask if you wish to give this person an audience for your presence. Yet you say the same thing: you’re not ready to converse with them. You’ll probably never want to talk with them again. 

It’s been like this for the past week. Ever since the little fiasco between you and Gojo — not to mention you slapping him across the face for his upsetting words — things between the two of you have been quiet as promised. The very last words you ever told him were to never speak to you again after publicly humiliating yourself by crying in front of him.

Outside of being the talk in everyone’s mouth (I mean, who wouldn’t gossip about one person slapping another after walking into them saying some mean shit about the other), you’ve been worried about by your friends ever since the incident. Your direct senior roommate, Utahime, was the first one to see you crying to yourself after coming home from classes and immediately called up Gojo to rip him a new one for making her junior roomie cry. Shoko was the passive one who listened to both sides yet still put your emotional state above anything else, telling Gojo white lies that you weren’t in your dorm room whenever he’d try to visit. And Mei Mei walked with you to your classes throughout the week in case the tall figure tried looking for you.

But it didn’t stop there. After that day, your Contemporary Issues course with Professor Naga was sheer awkwardness. The silent tension between you and Gojo was so thick that it effortlessly suffocated your peers and made it hard to concentrate — especially for the professor and your friends, Ijichi and Haibara. Outside of the class, you did your part in avoiding Gojo, and the same applies to the lectures you shared with him. No words, no greeting – not even a mere glance – were shared in his direction. It was as if your life mission was to avoid him at all costs.

However, this is Satoru Gojo we’re talking about. Although he respected your no-talking rule in the premise of lectures, he’d still try to get your attention once class was over. And even then, you’d bolt to the door to not give him the chance. He’d follow right behind you and have to maintain a respectable distance when Mei Mei was the light lavender eyes behind your back.

But what the hell did he expect? What he said hurt you to your core, so there was no way you’d want to speak with him again. He deserved that slap! The sting you inflicted on his face for a few minutes was nothing compared to the torment of your heart that’s been aching for a long while now. You can’t even look at Gojo after what had transpired. The pain he caused has been with you for a while, yet it still felt new and fresh to reflect on. 

And yet…your mind still can’t help but agonize you even more. Do you think it was easy to not engage with Gojo this entire time? Oh, it was the worst, both for your soul and mind. The memories of his smile and dimples would come up every often, pooling you deeper into your dread. The routine of him speaking to you with whispers when it was just the two of you — like he didn’t want others to find you in the comfort of each other’s presence — like it was sacred. And the way he said your name. It toyed with your heart whenever you’d reminisce it. 

“Y/n!”

Especially after how much has changed in your relationship with him, you really thought things between you and him were going for the better. Or, to be honest, becoming something a lot closer and personal. Something you grew to want with him as the days’ encounters and nightly calls went by. 

“Y/n...”

But you were wrong, lecturing yourself for being so dumb and naive for wanting such a thing. Amid the fun, you had forgotten what you two were and believed that you could change from that. Change with him. And yet here you are, broken-hearted, barely concentrating on your Word document on your laptop. 

“Hey, Y/n,” your brow twitched with the snap of reality, Utahime opening the door after knocking. “It’s the front door again; it’s—“

“GRRRAAAHHHHHHHHH!!” 

You were never one to shout within your apartment — Utahime’s eyes widened at the sudden shout of vexation. You stood up from your desk and walked past her, marching through the hallway. Mei Mei peeks from her shared room, and Shoko pours coffee in the kitchen. All three of your roommates observe you stomping to the door.

You swung the apartment door open with vigor, “I SWEAR TO CHRIST, GOJO, WHAT PART OF ‘DON’T EVER TALK TO ME’ DO YOU NOT UNDERST—…Geto?”

“Oh, hey there, Y/n. I was worried about you.” You were surprised to open the door and not find the unusual silver hair you expected. Instead, it was Suguru Geto, Gojo’s dark-haired direct roommate, rubbing his cold hands together that weren’t covered with his black windbreaker. Next to him was Kento Nanami, standing silently in his sand-colored trench coat.

“Hey, guys,” knowing they aren’t who you thought it would be, your shoulders relaxed with your tone. “What’s up?”

“Well,” Geto sighs heavily before telling anything. “We wouldn’t be here for a reason. And, after hearing what happened between you and you-know-who, I think you can guess why we're here, too.”

And then it hits — the realization of how these two’s abrupt appearance came to be. “…He asked you two to come and talk to me for him.” 

The two roommates look at each other for a second, and then Geto points behind him with his thumb to the stairwell door. You follow his finger, seeing the person you’re talking about watching you from the door window. You try not to contort your face into an ugly, exasperated expression in front of the other boys. So, you settle for a sigh to alleviate the stress growing inside you.

“Ugh. What is it.” You ask Geto with an attitude that wasn’t easily sheathed.

“Honestly, all I know is that he really – like, really – wants to talk to you.”

“Well, I don’t want to talk to him. So there,” you shake your head and backtrack past the threshold of your door. “Sorry you two came here for no reason, but I can’t—“

“—Wait!” Geto cuts you off and brings a hand on the door to stop you from closing it. You caught the intervention, widening the door again. Geto explains himself. “Look, I don’t know what happened between you—well, no, sorry. I get that Satoru said some things that hurt you last week. Believe me: I already lectured him hell and back for it when Shoko told me you came home crying, and you have every right to be mad at him right now…But—“

“Did he tell you what he said to me?”

“H—No, he didn’t,” your brow quirked at that response. He didn’t? “All he told me when I confronted him was that he messed up real bad and crossed a line.” 

“A line?” You enunciated after him. “That’s cute...Geto, he won’t tell you what he said because I caught him saying those things. That scumbag,” you averted your gaze to the door window, seeing Gojo gulp at your fierce eyes. “—knows what he said. And he knows that I told him I want nothing to do with him for that.”

Nanami was quiet throughout the entire thing, so it took you aback when he spoke. “And I’m on your side in that regard. You’re right, he is a scumbag; tactless, crude, borderline annoying—“

“Just borderline?” Geto points the word out to lighten the mood.

“And the type of person to get on someone’s nerves purposely. And with that, I don’t blame you for cutting him off. If anything, it’s what he deserves, if not more.”

You knew there was more to say beyond that. “And yet…"

“And yet,” Nanami picks it up. “…I’d be lying if I said that guy doesn’t know when he’s at fault. He can be prideful and childishly playful — albeit disrespectful to anyone he thinks doesn’t deserve it. However, he’s not emotionless, and if he is disrespectful to his friends, he knows when he’s in the wrong.“

“And take it from me, Y/n.” Geto comes in with the assist now that things are a bit calm. “Fucking asshat will take days to apologize to me for something stupid, and that’s if he feels like giving me one. But even if he doesn’t, I know he cares about me like any best friend…Like he cares about you.”

You had to fight the urge to roll your eyes, so you close them and shake your head. “He doesn’t care—“

“Yes, he does.” Nanami doesn’t let you finish that sentence. “Like I said: Gojo is many things, but he’s not an emotionless moron. Because I can tell that whatever he said distraught you to your core and made him feel bad about it — pathetically so.”

“…How do you know?” You don’t know why you asked that question; why the fuck should you care? The fucker in question is the one that broke your heart behind your back, so why bother?

“Because when he came home that day, Geto pulled him by the shirt, threw him against the wall, and yelled at him like no tomorrow. And he just stood there, letting Geto give him his rightful lashing. He even told him he didn’t deserve you as a friend, which I agreed with. But then Gojo said something after that…”

Again, this isn’t something you should be caring about. So why are you turning to Geto to ask, “…What did he say?”

“He said I was right, that he definitely didn’t deserve you.” Before the raven-haired boy answered, he exhaled through his nostrils. “And that what he said about you was, by far, the dumbest thing he’s ever done, which is saying a lot.”

“A whole lot.” The blond-haired boy jumped in. “Y/n, don’t take this as me vouching for him. But, if you could have seen the look on his face when he said that,” he nods when you shake your head ‘no’ again. “You would feel the guilt and shame pouring from him. It was pathetic to look at — pathetic for him to express. But it was real.”

And you know it’s the truth — not because it came from Nanami, but because you could picture the scene as if you were there. You could just imagine Gojo’s face, a dangerous move as your heart skipped with a twinge. You imagine the emotions he was expressing, your skin crawling thinking about his blue eyes – usually filled with life and light – appearing so broken and devoid of animation. 

“He does care about you — there’s no mistake about it. You two have been friends since freshmen year; he’d be an idiot to let those years go down the drain because of him. And that’s why we went along with coming here in his stead and asking you to talk to him.” You open your mouth, but Geto isn’t finished. “Please, Y/n. You’re the mature one, but you don’t have to act strong on this one. I can only assume, of course, but I’m sure you want this handled, too.”

He wasn’t wrong, yet at the same time, you couldn’t shake the heavy feeling that was weighing you down. 

“I…I don’t want to speak with him.” The two guys didn’t change their facial expressions. “Not now, at least...I don’t want to see his face right now.”

“Then how about a phone call later tonight?” Nanami proposed. “You two can talk it out with each other after you guys think about what to say to each other. You can even have the call while we’re sleeping so you can have privacy.”

“Ehhh, but I’m nosy.” Geto teases his sophomore roommate, making the younger blonde huff. 

“Not tonight, you are. Plus, you got a project to present tomorrow, so you need sleep.”

“Fair, fair…But seriously, Y/n, you should talk with him. If not for him, then for us, for Shoko, Utahime, Mei Mei, all of us. We don’t want you upset about what this idiot did this time. So, one talk should be okay, right?”

It should be okay. Keyword: should. However, the anxiety that you harbor within your limbs tells you otherwise. The pool in your stomach churning into a state you find uncomfortable to fight against. 

But concurrently, you couldn’t lie to yourself; a piece was missing in all of this. The resolution was needed — there had to be a way to see the entire picture in this matter. Otherwise, you’d be walking around campus mad at the person behind a door examining your reactions for the entire semester — no, the whole next year! You knew you didn’t have the mental capacity to deal with that. You can barely go through it right now. So, might as well get this off the table before it worsens…At least, that’s what you say to rationalize.

“…Okay,” you straightened your posture. “The girls have morning classes tomorrow. Tell him to call me at midnight.” 

Your answer sealed the deal, the two males dismissing themselves before you closed the apartment door. Your roommates peered around the corner once they heard the door lock, coming to ask if you were all right. You molded a faux smile and said you were fine, and yet you couldn’t tell if that was a lie to them or yourself. 

From there, the time felt so long to witness and experience throughout the day, watching one hour pass after the other. The sun had never settled under the horizon so slowly before, taking its time to draw the curtains of darkness over the Earth. And yet the time went fast simultaneously — the minutes spooked you every time you looked at the clock. 

Was this the universe’s way of toying with you for agreeing to talk to Satoru Gojo? It had to be. Your stomach doing somersaults didn’t help either; you could barely get through eating dinner because the dreaded talk bound to happen in a few hours was all your mind could think about. 

And then, when everyone was fast asleep ten minutes before midnight, your nerves couldn’t settle down. Five minutes before, you decided to take yourself and the phone to the bathroom (because the fan would be loud enough to tune out your conversation), needing the tiny space to yourself to pace back and forth and not to disturb Utahime snoring away. One minute before, you were sitting on top of the toilet, watching the seconds go by on your phone, praying that he wouldn’t call on the dot. He wouldn’t buzz you at the immediate stroke of twelve, right? He had to be doing something — anything else — hoping he’d spare you another minute if he could.

BZZZR!! BZZZR!!

However, that wasn’t the case. He called you right on the dot, and your heart jumped at the vibration from your phone. His display name was titled ‘do not answer this jerk,’ a change you made the day after the incident. Yet here you are, in the bathroom, and your thumb shaking over the green button. 

It wasn’t until the sixth vibration that you pressed the button with a sharp inhale, bringing the phone to your ear with haste. The silence was in the air for a couple of seconds, worsening your anxiousness. Until—

“…Hey.” He was the first to say something, thank God.

“Hi…..Where are you?”

“Outside my apartment, sitting on the stairwell...You?”

“In the bathroom.”

“You sitting on the toilet?”

You know what he was doing, making the conversation easier before getting to the hard stuff. Nonetheless, you admit it was working while your nervous state gradually deteriorated. “…And what if I am?”

“Then I’d say….Heh, actually, no. I can’t make that joke right now. Not when we’re like this.”

“Mmm, like this…” You hummed, the awkward tension filling the silence once again. “….Look, Gojo—“

“Before you say anything,” he cut you off, but you allowed it. “I have a lot I wanna say to you, and I want to get them out the way before I forget and never get the chance to say them to you…Can I say them?”

Your brows scrunched together, your free hand drawing reassuring circles on your thigh, and your teeth gnawing on your bottom lip. “…Go ahead.”

“Okay…So, first off,” you held your breath to brace yourself. “What I said about you on that day — I’m not gonna sit here and say I didn’t mean those things when I said them because I did. But NOT in the way you’re thinking.”

“Then what way did you mean them, Gojo?”

“I meant them in the implication that I was trying to protect what you and I had.” Had? “Our relationship was being questioned, some girl was asking about us and…I know you weren’t ready to have our business out in the world yet, so I thought….I just said what was believable with how everyone sees us since we’re always butting heads and shit. So, I said and meant those things to protect us in the heat of the moment. And then…I guess I got carried away.” 

“You guess you got carried away?” You repeated, your anxiousness now substituting for subtle anger. “…Just a little person angry at the world around them? So exhausting to deal with someone so boring and uncute as me?”

“Holy fuck, you remember it all—“

“Of course I did!” How could you not!? “And then — hmph, now this one I’ll never forget — ‘I’ve seen prettier, been with better, I feel sorry for the poor bastard who does end up with them’…” Your emotions were a mix of offense and pain, irritation and misery. Despite that, your voice maintained a calm tone, even if you wanted to do nothing but yell at the screen. Yet that wouldn’t solve this. “Gojo, the fact that I know all of that, verbatim, and have refused to talk, think, touch, or even look at you since them…To say you got carried away is just…like, holy fuck. Who the hell were you?” 

He didn’t say anything for a minute, but you couldn’t blame him. Being hit with his own words like that, any moral human being would stop and let that shit simmer into their skin. 

“…I’m sorry,” you wanted to call bullshit so bad, but not after he followed up with this. “Really. I’m so…so fucking sorry, Y/n. I know that shit wasn’t cool, and, to be honest, I expected more than one slap for that. I only meant it to save you the burden of gossip; believe me when I say that.”

“I—ahem…” Nope, you were not going to do this. Not tonight. “I want to believe you, Gojo. But I just…I can’t; it hurts my head thinking about it.”

“I know…I did that to you, and I’m so fucking sorry. My foot was too far up my mouth when I said all that, just one useless thing after another….And you know what’s crazy? I think my conscience knew me spouting shit wasn’t the right call. I mean, I literally walked with you to the class that day; what kind of friend does that and say shit like that afterward? And when I saw you….the way you looked so…distant? Just like that, everything that we had was just gone. I couldn’t see it — I saw absolutely nothing when I saw you. That scared me, seeing the happiness and the smile you had minutes ago just vanish with the flip of a switch. And I fucking did that. I knew at that moment that I lost you…..Y/n…? Are you crying?” 

You immediately moved the phone away from your ear, covering your mouth with the arm of your sweatshirt. The cries you tried to suppress poured out at that moment, and the pain that scratched your insides left your system with every sob and intake of breath. The tears damped the material, soaking them in as they rolled down your cheeks.

As ways to start the eve of your Monday, crying with the person who broke your heart on the phone was not one you expected to be one of them. It all hurt: the rapid emotions, the memories of that day replaying in your head, the genuine sincerity expressed in his voice. It was all too fucking much, your face heating up to a concerning level that you’d think you’d blow up.

You give yourself a few seconds before bringing the phone to your ear, “….What else?” 

“Huh?”

“You said—sniff—that you had other things you wanted to say to me.” A change of subject was necessary, not wanting him to notice the broken crack of your voice. “So, what else?”

The request took him aback, but he knew better than to question or fight you. “…Second of all, I wanna say – since I’m not sure I’ll ever get the chance to tell them to you in person – I want you to know that you’re more than what I said. There’s nothing 'kinda' pretty about you — you’re pretty all over. I’m not saying that to butter you up; it’s something I’ve said to myself all this time…Who am I kidding, saying I’ve been with prettier and better when I hurt the most beautiful and kindest one my eyes ever laid on….? Boring and uncute? Heh, you’re anything but. Sure, I say you're uncute when you nag at me to no end, but I don’t think there’s been a single day that I’ve thought you were a sore for my eyes. You’re too gorgeous for that.”

“Gojo—“

“I don’t deserve you as a friend, Y/n.” Your breath hitched. “Honest. I shouldn’t even be talking to you right now. And yet, you gracing me with time to spare shows that I really don’t have the right to have you close to me…I’m sorry.”

It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know he was honest about his apology. You felt it in your bones; your gut told you what Gojo told you was true. Your anger was nowhere to be found, but your guard was still up.

You slowly exhale through your mouth before taking your turn in the conversation. “So…Is that all?” 

“….”

“…Gojo?”

“….”

“Gojo? Are you still—“

“I like you.”

Okay, you lied; your guard wasn't up for that.

There’s no way he just said that. There’s no way those three exact words left his mouth and entered your eardrums. They kept ringing throughout your head, bouncing off the walls of your cranium with each repeated syllable. Your eyes widened by the second, your body coming to a complete standstill. And yet, the only thing that was moving and showed signs of life was your heartbeat increasing with the silence.

He likes you. The Gojo Satoru — your frenemy, annoying peer, and friend who enjoys your yelling and nagging — likes you.

“You…You what?” You heard him perfectly, but you wanted to confirm this wasn’t some joke.

“I like you.” He didn’t hesitate to replicate. “I do, I really do. I’ve liked you for….quite a long while, way before we started having sex together.”

“How long ago is that?”

“I think since the spring semester of freshman year when we had started to get a little closer before you became friends with Geto...Yeah, for a while now.”

“…Why?”

“Hmm?”

“Why do you like me? 

You heard him sigh out a large breath before answering. “…To be honest, I just like how you…are you. Like, you’re not scared to be yourself around me. Many people I’ve known try to kiss my ass for me to call them a friend, and even then, those guys are assholes…But you, I don’t see that — I never saw that. You’d never kiss my ass; you’d always be down to tell me when I’m wrong or right. Being around you was different from other people; I felt comfortable around you like you were one of my friends.” 

You didn’t intervene, listening to every word he was to say. 

“Not to mention…Heh, you’re so cute. Like, actually. And pretty, and independent, and bright. I can’t count how many times I’ve been lost in my thoughts about you. Especially recently, you’re all that I can think about. I like how it feels to hold your hand, and your fingers look small against mine. I could never get enough of you talking to you; it’s one of the things I look forward to. And, holy fuck, the way you smile. I swear, you could kill me with that face of yours. And your eyes — I’m always told mine are so beautiful to look at, yet I find that impossible whenever I get stuck when you look at me….Y/n? Are you—You’re not crying, are you?”

You said in sniffles. “You’re such a fucking asshole, Gojo…”

“Huh!? Why??”

“You break my heart one day and then say all these things the next…Are you trying to tell me that stunt you pulled is that dumb thing where people say stupid shit about someone else because they like them?”

“Hey, I told you why I said them! Besides, those two bimbos were getting in our personal life, and we didn’t have anything to call our relationship, so…!”

“Sniff—And you! Why didn’t you tell me you liked me for so long instead of annoying me to no end?”

“I could’ve done that, but…I don’t know. I guess our relationship was easier the way we had it. Things were less complicated for you. Plus, you’re cute when you’re angry at me.”You had to scoff at that. Of course, he’d say something like that. He can be such a prick sometimes. “I was okay with how things were, being all naggy and arguing with you while secretly close to you. I didn’t want to change something we were used to into something more.”

“Mmm.” You could only hum to that sentence, letting his words sink in before saying anything. “…Would it have been a bad thing if it was something more?”

He didn’t answer immediately, indicating that he took the question in serious thought. “No…I wouldn’t have minded. But that decision was all yours to make.”  

“Gojo,” The words you were about to say were about to be so nerve-wracking that you had to take in a deep breath. Chewing on your lips while exhaling through an open mouth. “….Would it be a bad thing if I said….that I liked you, too? And that…I still like you—”

KA-BANG-BANG!!

You jumped at the sudden sound coming from the other side of the line, as it was not the response you were expecting, and you could hear him saying curses further from the phone. After a few brief seconds, Gojo’s voice comes back.

“Fuck, sorry, sorry! I just dropped my phone on the stairs!” He sounded so worried, as if he lost you. “You.…You like me?”

“Yeah, I do…” Gosh, you didn’t think this would happen, the heat on your cheeks expanding to your ears and neck. “I really do. And I’m also willing to forgive you. BUT, you have to prove your worth by redeeming—“

“I WILL!” Again, it wasn’t the reaction you were expecting! He replied with such momentous excitement that you could imagine the sparkle in his blue eyes. “I will, I promise! In fact, I have an idea; how about I take you out on a date?” 

Huh!? “A date??”

“Yeah, on Valentine’s Day, this Wednesday! I know this great place not too far from here, or maybe you wanna go to a small café to wind down from classes? You can pick—”

“Wait, wait! We have classes that day; we have our night class with Professor Yaga—“

“We could skip—“

“Hell. No.” You shut him down with quickness. “We’re going over some serious discussions that day for our papers on Friday; we’re just gonna have to do the date after class.” 

“Pfft, God, you can be such a geek sometimes.”

For the first time that night, you rolled your eyes. “Says the Digimon-fanatic talking to me right now.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” He snickers at the phone, and your heart swoons at it. It felt like you hadn’t heard that laugh in ages. “So…Is that a yes?”

It had you thinking for a temporary moment; talking with Gojo again just felt so…familiar. It was something you’d been missing for the past week, accepting that you’d never experience it again. And here he is, inviting you on a date? This was, by all means, a weird night. An apology, a confession, and now being asked out? 

Regardless, you can’t shake the feeling of wanting to be by his side again. And with a chance like this, why brush it off? “Yes, I accept your date.” 

“Then it’s a Valentine’s date. Cool.”

“Cool.” You awkwardly repeated after him, becoming squeamish with the brief silence. “Okay, well, now that we talked. I need to get some sleep.”

“Mmm, okay. Go get your sleep, then. Be sure to think of me in your dreams~”

Your head is shaken again, this time with a smile. “Whatever. I’ll try…Think of me too, Satoru.”

“I always do, Y/n.” Jesus, the way he gently and affectionately said your name. Is this what it’s like to admit you like someone? “Good night.”

“Good night…Oh, wait! You said you had a joke earlier.”

“Hmm…Oh, yeah?”

“Well, now that we’re kinda on good terms…What was the joke?”

“Oh! I was gonna say it’s kinda a shame that you’re sitting on a toilet and not on my face.”

“Goodbye, Gojo.”

“PFFFT, No, wait, I’m so—“

CLICK!

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

As far as dates go about, this is one that Satoru Gojo was the most nervous about. 

As promised, after your class with Professor Naga ended, Gojo waited for you with his car on Main Street by your dormitory. He was already dressed for the date, adorned with a black turtleneck and jeans that matched his Chesterfield coat. But you had a few things you wanted to touch up on before going out for the night, so he texted back that he’d wait for you outside.

What he didn’t expect was being instantly shot down by you once you came down and walked to his car. Because holy fucking shit, you looked so fucking beautiful. If this was a “touch-up,” all the people he went on dates on must’ve not been trying.

You were wearing a black halter long-sleeve top; your collarbone and shoulders were out for his eyes to trace and breathe to hitch. Your arms were shielded by a hoodie that looked a bit big for you but did its job of protecting you from the cold winds. And black thigh socks that contrasted with the plaid skirt and the puffy boots. And…did you put on lipgloss on? Holy shit.

“So,” you’d say meekly to catch his attention since he’s examining your every feature. “I’m ready…” They were simple words, yet they had the power to have him stop leaning on the car and grab the door for you. You were chewing on your lip, avoiding his gaze that watched every step you took. “You’re staring, Satoru…”

“Hmm? Oh! Sorry...” He’d close your door and mutter, scratching his neck where the heat from his ears crawled around. 

And from there, the date began. The plan? He wanted to take you to some fancy restaurant, but you politely declined and told him you’d settle for dinner and a movie. And you two did just that, going to this burger joint that was popping off when you entered. You two sat at a booth by a window, enjoying your food and conversing about each other’s day.

“You did not have to do that.” You said in giggles, bringing a fry to your mouth. 

“I did, too!” Gojo replied after taking a big bite from his burger. “The fucker almost tried to dirty my basketball shoes; do you know how much those shits cost? Expensive as hell.” 

“Yeah, but to push your buddy to an ice bath because he almost dirtied your shoes?” You shook your head with a smile. “And all shoes are expensive these days, Satoru.”

“Yeah, well, mine were custom-made. So,” he takes another bite. “Serves him right.”

Gojo didn’t notice it himself, but you saw a bit of ketchup on the corner of his mouth. Tending to your friend’s obliviousness, you grab a napkin and stretch to him. At first, he thought you were giving it to him to wipe it off himself; nope. You did it for him, tenderly dabbing the condiment off his lip. 

And you didn’t even notice what you were doing until your eyes met his, instantly pulling your hand back. “Sorry! You just…had something on there…”

“Mmm, thank you…” he said it low, but you heard him. What you couldn’t hear, thank God, was the beat of his heart going at an unsteady rate. It took a minute for you two to shuffle uncomfortably for the conversation to flow back.

After the dinner was the movie, a random action movie that you two felt interested to see. And it wasn’t that bad of a film; the plot was pretty subpar, the acting mediocre, but overall, a good movie. 

However, Gojo couldn’t focus on the movie for lengthy periods because his eyes would usually drift to the right of him where you sat, surveying how engrossed you were watching the film that you didn’t notice him. God, even in the dark, you looked so gorgeous and cute. 

Sometimes, he’d glance at your armchair and look at your hand, the inner dialogue between himself on whether he should go for it and place his hand on top of yours. But he doesn’t do it. He wants to, but he can’t, not like this. It was killing him so much; the feeling of wanting to touch you and have you against him again was haunting him — they’ve been haunting him for the past few days now.

“Fuck…” he’d mutter under his breath, but you wouldn’t hear because of the sound of explosions coming from the theater speakers. He wanted you but didn’t want to mess this date up. He couldn’t afford to screw this chance with you, he just couldn’t. 

Once the movie was over, he’d walk with you to the parking lot where the car was parked. The chill winds of February crawl up on your bodies, and you bundle up into your warm hoodie. “Did you enjoy the movie?”

He hummed with a tilted head. “Meh, I’ve seen better. It wasn’t too bad. What about you; you liked it?” 

You looked up to ponder and shrugged, swaying side-to-side as Gojo leaned on his car. “Yeah, it was okay. There’s better stuff out there.”

“You just saying that to agree with me?” 

“No, maybe you’re reading my mind and copying my answers.” You give a tiny smug look, only for him to smile along.

He then asks, “So…did I do good with this?” He can’t lie; how you lifted your brow instead of giving an immediate answer made him a little nervous. And with the tilt of your head and turning your body fully towards him, you knew you had him in the palm of your hand. You hand him your verdict:

“I think so. You treated me to good food, didn’t try to poison me, and got a free movie ticket out of it.” You jokingly punch his chest. “Yeah, I liked this date, Gojo. Consider yourself redeemed.”

He snickers lightly, “Good, I don’t think I can take another day of you being mad at me.” That made you giggle; good. Things go quiet for a while, and he averts his stare downward. His eyes land on your hand, the thoughts from the movie theater teetering back to his head. Goddamn it, he really wants to touch you—

“I can see you staring through those glasses, Gojo.” And just like that, you propelled your hand to link with his, making the tall boy flinch. “Your subtlety is wearing thin.”

Your teasing tone evokes a chuckle disguised in a sigh from Gojo, his fingers slithering to intertwine with yours. “What makes you think so?”

You peer up to him. Fuck, your eyes were so beautiful. “You were practically staring daggers at me while watching the movie. Am I on your mind that much?”

“Yes.” You expected a different answer – something more playful – and it’s why you couldn’t breathe after he brought his face closer to yours. “Infintely.”

Suddenly, the cold air didn’t bother you anymore. The heat on your face blossoms across your cheeks and ears while maintaining eye contact. “Am I on your mind right now?” He nods, your noses barely brushing each other. You whisper to him, “What are you thinking about?”

“I wanna kiss you.” He closes his eyes; you can see from his shades. “I want to hold you like I did before.” The hand clutching yours gets firmer. “I want you…Just you.”

The way he has with words effortlessly pulls you in, his voice comforting to the point you allow him to put his other hand around your waist. You faintly reply before connecting your lips with his. “I want you too…Satoru.”

When he pecks your lips, a feeling you two feared was wiped off the Earth returns to warm your bodies. Your hands instantly go around his neck like usual, sighing through your nostrils as you permit to sink into his hold and kiss.

Gojo uses this to bring his hand behind your neck to keep you on him, the kiss becoming more passionate by the second. He licks on your bottom lip, a sign of wanting entry. So, you open and lick him back before he takes the initiative to put his tongue inside your mouth. And you moan into his lips — fuck, how he missed the sounds you’d make for him. It felt like forever since the last time he heard them. 

This moment brings the spark between you two back, the sounds of the world around you drawing out from your space. All that mattered was you being in his embrace and him having you with him like this again. It all felt right — being with each other — with nothing bothering this peace meant for you two.

So much so that Gojo took it upon himself to convince you to stay with him tonight at a nice hotel close by, where you two couldn’t get off each other the moment you closed the door to your room. Hot kisses are exchanged as you two remove each other’s clothing, Gojo undoing your bra and lifting you to place on top of the bed. 

His lips never leave yours, even when his hands play with your chest. Your legs wrap around his waist to pull him closer as he rocks into you. Your core down south experiences throbs that entail you want him, your horniness dialing up with every grind of his groin.

He breaks the kiss to playfully bite your lip so he can hear you yelp for him, placing his lips from your chin down to your neck. You say in shaky breaths, “Hahhh, Satoru, please touch me more…”

He lifts his lips from your clavicle, “Of course, princess; you know I always got you.” He then licks from your collarbone down to one of your nipples in a tantalizingly slow fashion, your body squirming from anticipating what he’s about to do. His tongue finds its way to swirl around the bud, having your hum to the wet touch. And when he decides to suck it into his mouth when it’s hardened, you gasp. 

But it doesn’t stop there, one hand tweezing the other nipple as he licks around the one in his mouth. The free one snakes down your abdomen to your skirt, lifting the material for his digits to meet the damp spot of your panties. 

You jerk at the feeling of him moving the material to the side, rubbing his bare fingers on your precious, wet cunt and clit. “Ahhnn! Satoru, Satoru—Mmmm…” He rubs around on your folds in circles before adding his forefinger smoothly inside, his slender digit efficiently rubbing your vaginal walls have you holding back whimpers. 

When he thinks you’re ready enough, he adds his middle finger inside. Both his digits scrape and graze around your inner walls, provoking silent screams to leave your lips. Your fingers find his hair to tug, which only has him suck on your breast more. 

“Hooohhh, mmmmh…Right there, right thereee…please—Ohooo…!” You moan to him, your thighs jerking with every scratch of his fingers in your chasm.

“Mmm…you close, pretty?” Gojo releases your nipple for a quick second, returning it inside his warm mouth after he sees you nod hurriedly. “Hold tight, okay? Lemme get you ready, sweetie…”

You cry at the increase in speed, the nails of his fingers scraping the velvety tender spots inside you. Your body jerks to him as your hands find his shoulders to pinch on. Gojo lets go of your bud once again to move his lips down south, spreading your legs to take a look at your mess.

“Holy shit,” he says with a bitten lip before he crouches down to kiss your clit after slipping your panties off. “I fucking missed this pretty thing so fucking much.” He licks your soapy folds up to your clit, drowning the delicate button with feverish laps of the tongue. It has you screaming his name, and he loved that so fucking much.

Gojo stuffs his face to your slit, drinking your essence while teasing the clit with fast swipes. Your wails get louder and louder, and he doesn’t make it any easier when he keeps your legs spread for him to continue his work. Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, fuck, fuck! I’m gonna cum, I’m—“Ahhahnn!!”

That’s when you come onto his face, your cunt spasming with electric pulses and your legs shaking with every hit of your orgasm. And he keeps on sucking and licking your fluids; you’d think he’s sucking the life out of you. But you can’t blame him; the boy is starved for you.

He soon withdraws his face from between your legs when you’re done with wailing and crying, licking his lips and leaving off the bed to take out a condom, throwing his jeans and drawls to the floor. But then something is wrong, and you can see it when Gojo presses his lips into a thin line before climbing back to the bed and maneuvers on top of you. He aligns the glans of his cock to the entrance of your vagina, and it’s there that you notice he doesn’t have the rubber on.

“I…I forgot to bring a condom, sweetie.” He says to you in a tune that harbors slight worry, and you can tell from his azure eyes that he’s a little nervous about this step. You held back a giggle; for once, he looked adorable when worried about something.

“…How good is your pull-out game?” You ask, half-jokingly.

His white brows trench together. “Are you sure?” 

You nod and kiss him on the cheek. “I trust you, Satoru, so just be careful, okay?” 

He blinks at you, taken aback by your lack of resistance. Yet, at the same time, he knew you needed this just as much as he did. So, with that in mind, he pushes the glans into you, observing your breathing to gauge how much to propel inside. The tip of his length then bullies itself inside you, a sharp gasp coming from your sweet lips while Gojo moans at the raw feeling of you around him.

“—Hnnn! H–Hooooly fuck,” with every inch he pushes inside of you, the sensation of your pussy chills him up his spine. The rubber had been shielding this away from him, every dent and smooth tissue of you wrapping around him. Oh, fuck, this was a dangerous game to play. “Oh, shiiit, you feel so fucking good..”

You could agree with that notion, experiencing his naked girth inside you for the very first time. You could feel his veins graze against your walls, the curve scraping your spots tenderly. “Ohhhh, fuck, you too, ‘toru…Oh my God…”

Even starting with slow thrusts was a hard card to pull, the subtraction of the condom making this feel so new and fresh — a scary dance to do with two young lovers. He pulls his cock slowly til halfway up the tip and then rushes it back inside to your wetness. Your pretty purrs fly out with every movement.

Gojo takes this time to look at you with your disheveled figure sprawled out for him to see and pick at like eye candy. Watery eyes batting up at him with pleasure behind half-lidded orbs, your chest that he loves so much out for him to give a nipple another tweak, and your legs curling around him as his tempo increases. You’re so fucking beautiful, and he’s so lucky to be able to have you under him again. He wouldn’t want it any other way — he wants to belong to you and you with him. It’s a dream he’d kill to have with you.

“Y/n…” he says your name in a shaky breath, groaning at your slit clamping onto him so suddenly. “Can I…Be your boyfriend?”

You didn’t have enough time to react appropriately because Gojo hammers his cock into you with no warning. You scream out for him to stop, to wait a minute so you can give an adequate response! But no, he ruts into you like his hips have a mind of their own, forcing you to cling onto him for dear life as the curve of his length jabs you in places that have you rolling your eyes to the stars.

“—Ahahhnn!! Ahhh! W-Wait, Satoruuuu!!” Your words slur out with a hot breath, drool coming down your mouth with no control. “You want me….Mmnph! To be your—“

“Yes! Oh, fuck…yes!” He says with no hesitation, slamming his pelvis down to your pussy so fast that his balls smack on your taint. Oh, fuck, this felt way too damn good! “I wanna be yours, and I want you to be mine—Hooooh….No one else’s…!”

“Nnahh…!! Ohhh, my God, fuuuuck…!” Your heart beats eighty miles per hour, your whole body endures heat shared with Gojo, and your thoughts travel too fast to keep up. He wants to be my boyfriend? He wants to be my boyfriend! “…R–Really?”

“Yeah, really, really.” He smiles breathlessly at you, placing a kiss on your forehead. “Let’s be a couple, yeah? I want you so bad; you drive me so fucking crazy—Hannhh!! Shit, shit… I don’t want to hide this anymore — to hurt my cutie anymore. Let’s make this official so I can be with you without worries.” He snaps his hips harshly, grinding his pelvis with the flex of his abs, provoking more horny howls to seep from your puffy lips. He lowers to whisper to your ear while a hand clings to yours on the side. “Whatcha say, princess, hmm? Let’s be together….Hmmm…!”

Holy fuck, this is not a confession you were expecting while having your insides churned out, with your crush between your legs, in the middle of a hotel room, on Valentine’s Day. Your mind was getting foggy enough from the hot commotion in your inner thighs — now your head was filling up with fantasies of being with Gojo as a couple! This was beyond bizarre, something out of a fucking movie! 

And yet, you couldn’t find any reason to say no! There’s no denying it — those feelings Gojo had for you were the same as you had for him. You feel so happy being around him, in his hold, whispering and expressing his vulnerable side to you, and you’d want to throw all that away? Hell no! 

“—Mmm, yessss,” you can’t help but shed a little tear at him, to which he readily dries away with a thumb. “Yesss, Satoru, I wanna be yoursss — please…take care of me!”

Gojo slams his lips onto yours, your mewls taken by hungry lips while his strokes go at a rapid tempo. You almost choke on his spit from the way your clit catches abrupt hits from his pelvis, and the tip of his dick pokes your fragile spots with precision. 

Oh, Jesus fucking Christ! You felt it; it’s coming. You felt it in your bones, the shivers crawling up your spine as you inhaled to prepare. “Maahhh! ‘Toruuu, I’m gonna cumm…! Quick, pull out—Oooooo!!” 

Thank God you gave him a warning. The tall other was too lost in the feeling that he was just about to come inside you! He removes his body off of yours to swiftly pull his member out, using his hand to finish the job for him, although he already misses the warmth of your cunt. 

He comes at the same time as you, his load shooting out from his urethra and spilling onto his hand. White fluids slide between his fingers as he continues to stroke himself off while your legs twitch and your slit contracts and flutters on nothing, letting the wave of your climax pass on through with every howl. 

The air of the hotel room cools your bodies after disconnecting your sexes off each other, and huffs and pants from heaving figures are evidence of you two trying to find your balance in the world. Sky-blue eyes lock in with yours, and he laughs in faint puffs.

He crawls his way back between your legs after wiping his hand, placing kisses up your neck and chin. “Hahhh, fuck, that felt way too good.”

“Mhmm,” you hum with him, letting him place his head in the crook of your neck. 

“Hey,” he traces a finger along your collarbone. “Wanna skip classes tomorrow?”

Your eyebrows draw upward. “One day of Valentine’s isn’t enough?”

“Nope~. Plus, I wanna make up a week’s worth of not being around you.”

“Pfft, sure,” you stifled a laugh. “But you need a single day to do all that?” 

He lifts his head with a grin. “Well, we don’t have enough clothes to stay here until Saturday.” He maneuvers himself to lie on his side. “Why? You doubt I can do it?”

“You’re free to prove me wrong,” you give him a sneer. “I suggest you start getting to work.” You didn’t expect your words to flip a switch, causing the snow-haired other to grab you by the legs to him. He restrains your hands above your head, and you can’t fight the giggles from his playful manner.

“With pleasure,” he claims your lips again, your sweet murmurs entering his ears.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Psst, oh my God, do you see that?”

“Holy shit, this can’t be real!”

“Woah…Am I in the right universe?”

“Satoru, I told you people would stare…hurry and let go of my hand—“

“Nope! I like where your hand is right now~.”

It was like this the entire day. Ever since your Valentine’s Day date with Gojo, things instantly returned to where they were supposed to be and more! It was amazing how one day could make the bitterness of the weeks prior dissipate with the February wind. There was nothing to be scorned about —nothing to be scared of — everything felt clear to you and the person you were holding hands with.

After that date successfully went well — and won your heart in more ways than one, you’ll admit — you and Gojo decided it was time to unveil the status of your relationship. No more secrets, no more hiding feelings for each other; you two were officially a couple, both in private and outward!

Spending two days alone together felt like a dream, being so close to each other without worrying about being seen and critiqued in the eyes of others. But now, back on campus grounds, you can’t go back on your promise and have to walk with your cheeks and ears burning as Gojo’s fingers tighten the grasp around yours. 

Of course, the change of pace was a complete shock to the students and staff on this Friday. The number of perplexed gazes and starstruck figures who stopped to look at the two of you was too many to count — hell, you even saw Professor Gakunaji’s eyes widen for the first time! It was all so embarrassing, being the talk on everyone’s mind after keeping a low profile for so long. And here you are, holding hands with the star basketball player, the guy everyone knew assumed you couldn’t stand being within arm’s length with, and now, the boy you want to spend the rest of your college life with, Satoru Gojo.

Who, by the way, is loving every single second of this — of course he is, the fucking cheeky bastard! You don’t think you’ve seen his smile and dimples never leave his face for the entire day. He was stuck to you like glue, walking you to your classes and immediately returning to your side after his lectures ended like a happy puppy. He knew you were a little overwhelmed with it all, but that wasn’t a problem because he’d happily make sure you didn’t think you were the only one going through with this. Plus, you just looked so fucking cute looking all bashful around him now that he expresses his love for you publicly. I mean, the way you were in shock after he kissed you on the cheek after walking you to your second class of the day with Utahime? Oh, he wished he had a picture! Especially with your roommate’s jaw dropped to the floor (which never closed throughout the remainder of class as she just stared at you) after seeing the startling, romantic interaction.

And now, here you two go, walking out from your last class of the day with Professor Yaga — who was caught off guard when you two walked in together with a lovey-dovey (mostly on Gojo’s part) atmosphere but gave you a small smile as you walked to your seats (which were changed because Gojo pleaded you sat next to him from now on) as Haibara and Ijichi exchanged cheeky glances at the observation. 

You two were walking down to the dining hall, where you planned to have dinner with Shoko and Geto and tell the two best friends of Satoru Gojo of your intimate relationship. But gosh, everything was going too fast! “Hey, Satoru—“

“Yeeeess~?” He says in a sing-song tune, too pleased with himself as he swings your hand to and fro with his. 

“Do we really have to do this today? Why not eat with Shoko and Geto tomorrow—“

“Huuuh!!? But I’m taking you out tomorrow!” You want to hide your face when passersby hear your boyfriend’s reaction, immediately swapping gossip when they’re out of your vision. “Besides, they’ll be hella busy studying tomorrow at the library, so today was the best option.” 

You nod aimlessly. Ughhh, this is just too much. I feel like my head is gonna implode. Then, you felt Gojo grip your palm tighter and put your walk to a stop, prompting you to look up at him again. 

“Hey,” he says with his signature smile, his dimples becoming more prominent now that you’re gazing up at him. “It’s gonna be okay, alright? I got you, and you got me, right?” And he brings you in for a tight hug that has you squeaking and your lips quivering from hearing people gasp at the display of affection. “And now that I finally have you to myself — officially! — don’t think for a second that you can ever get rid of me!”

On the one side, you really want this fool to let go of you so everyone can stop staring and you can get this dinner over with! And yet, on the other side, your heart was beating in such a tune that had you melt into his embrace, and the smell of his cologne made you hum to his chest. You can’t seem to fight the smile growing on your face and your hands coming around to hug the white-haired, lovestruck fool back. “You’re too silly, Satoru…”

“Uhh, are we interrupting something?” 

With haste, you and Gojo break the hug to see the owner of that familiar voice. To your surprise, it was Shoko greeting you two with a smile. Next to her was Geto, also harboring a sly smile on his face before you. 

You cough to clear your throat away from Gojo, who sneaks his hand on your shoulder to keep you close. “H–Hi Shoko, Geto! I see you guys beat us to the dining hall.“

“Yeah, we were wondering if you two would make it. But now,” Shoko’s brown eyes venture from the figures of Gojo and you being close together, “I can see that you two wanted a bit of time to yourselves.”

“Uhhh, oh, you know; we just wanted to walk together since we had our last class for today!” You try to move your shoulder away from Gojo, but his grasp gets firmer and firmer.

Geto laughs, “Oh, no need to act so shy on us, Y/n! It’s good to know that you two are back to being close and cool now. Especially now that you two are a couple.”

“Ohhh, c’mon now, we’re not—“ you stopped, your body going rigid, and everything suddenly fell silent. “Wait….You knew?”

Geto hums as confirmation. “Yeah? Gojo told me.”

Your face forms into confusion. Gojo?

“Me?” Silver brows hang up at the statement. “I never said anything.”

Shoko makes a slightly bewildered expression. “What are you talking about? Remember that photo that you sent to Geto on Wednesday, and—“

“Woah, woah, woah.” Gojo’s fingers tense on your shoulder. Oh, he knows he’s in trouble. You can tell as he silently removes his hand while you question his best friends. “What picture?”

“Uhhh, the one he sent when you two were out for Valentine’s?” When we WHAT!? “Hold on, lemme pull it up from our messages…Yeah, this one.”

The moment Geto brings out his phone and gives it to you, Gojo felt his heart dropped to his ass. Not that you could tell, but the aura of fear was enough to be picked up. What showed on the screen not only had your jaw drop to your feet, but the cutesy feelings you had a minute ago with Gojo faded. Instead, it was replaced with the growing irritation that had your fingers tremble.

Geto’s phone screen displays a message and an attachment from Gojo on the night of your date. Judging by the time, it happened when you assumed you two were sleeping. The attachment proves your point, showing your sleeping face peacefully on Gojo’s bare chest. And the man in question is shown groggily awake, holding his phone to take the picture while his lips are planted on your forehead. The message below the photo answers Geto’s question, “Yo, you two made up already?” To which the taller figure says, “Yeah, kissed and made up. :3”

“Gojoooo….”

Before you do or say anything, your shaky hands return the phone to its owner, which Geto takes silently while backing three steps away with Shoko. 

“SATORUUUU!!!”

You yell out his name without a care for the people around you who immediately look at you. You turn to where he’s supposed to be — supposedly by your side. But you’re not surprised to see that he’s gone, turning your heel to find that the snowy-headed figure was backing up with his hands up.

“H–Hey now, Y/n,” He says nervously. He better be nervous because your eyes showcased a wrath he wasn’t ready for. “Calm down for me, okay, princess?”

“You…Are so…FucKING DEAD!!!”

And it was there that you chased him down, running around the halls. Geto and Shoko watch with baffled expressions before they scoff with laughter. The same goes with the other students who witness the commotion, enjoying the familiar banter between you two. 

It’s weird to say that you and Gojo are officially a couple now, at least to the public eye. However, no one seems to be in denial of it or push it aside. If anything, they seem happy for you two, finally coming around to express each other’s love for one another in a better way than insults and shouts.

And your friends can say the same, enjoying the change of ambiance whenever you two are in the same space. No more trying to ignore the rambles and arguments between you two, no more tired eyes rolling around their sockets when you call each other names. Because they know those will happen anyway; nonetheless, it’s now in a better light that the banner of young love is finally open and hanged.

 It’s a love that you and Gojo can finally express, be free, and be happy with.

“COME BACK HERE, SATORU GOJO!!”

“NO, YOU’RE JUST GONNA HIT ME!!”

And you two wouldn’t want it any other way. 

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 ❤︎ reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ dividers by @/cafekitsune & @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.

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