#the study group gets along fine without him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tawnfawn · 4 months

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intoxicated | könig

summary: you get along with everyone on your team, except for könig. you think he hates you, but his perceived distaste for you only makes you want him more. you're able to keep your composure until you're partnered up for a mission, where everything seems to go wrong...

tags: könig x fem!reader smut. cod. pure filthy, shameless smut. sex pollen. proofread. MDNI. 5,000+ words

cw: dubcon (due to sex pollen but there's clear consent before and after). unprotected sex (reader IS on birth control, wrap it before you tap it), p in v, oral m!receiving, fingering, accidental drug use (sex pollen), dom!könig and sub!reader, light humiliation kink, heavy praise, size kink if you squint, overstimulation, mutual pining, violence, killing.

MDNI. NSFW BELOW THE CUT

You crept around the corner of the warehouse with your rifle, watching König’s six as you progressed. The other KorTac members were stationed on site as well, giving quick updates through comms as you progressed. Details were scarce, except that in the warehouse, a Russian terrorist group was producing a bioweapon capable of mass destruction—and anyone inside was KOS.

Of course, the bioweapon in question was…dubious, to say the least. A strong aphrodisiac, the contractor had explained, much to the astonishment of your team. During the briefing, you’d managed to keep a straight face, but not all of your teammates were as courteous.

“So let me get this straight—you want us to risk our lives for…Viagra?” Horangi had questioned, exasperated. Your lips pursed at his crudeness, but it was exactly what you were thinking too.

The scientist’s face flushed. “N-no, this is much different,” he snapped. As one of the architects of the bioweapon, he was clearly offended. “It is much, much stronger. Exposure to just one dose will cause severe arousal: heart palpitations, excessive sweating, overheating. Imagine…” He seemed to be struggling to find the words. “Imagine a brain overload, yes? Rational thinking…disappears. Victims may lose all motor control. Too long without treatment can result in heart failure, aneurysms, seizures, stroke, and sometimes death.”

“So what is the treatment?” you interrupted, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Sex,” the scientist answered, shifting uncomfortably on his heels. “It was designed to be, ah… difficult.”

Your jaw clenched, and your eyes darted to König. He was staring down the scientist, narrowed eyes betraying no emotion. While everyone else struggled to keep their bafflement hidden, his sniper hood obscured any hope of reading him. Just my fucking luck, you thought when you were partnered with him.

It wasn’t that you disliked König; it was just that you found it so much more difficult to talk to him. With the rest of your teammates, you were fine. A natural people reader, you were comfortable with the rest of them, relying on body language and the details they let slip to learn more about them. In fact, you considered yourself to be pretty close with them—unsurprising, given that in your line of work, your life rested in their hands and vice versa. But König was… different. You didn’t distrust him, per say, but outside of the battlefield, he was quiet. Reclusive. No matter how many times you’d tried to get him to open up, he barely interacted with you, despite talking to the others. You’d chalked it down to being the newest on the team at first, but now that you’d served over a year and a half together, you were frustrated. Shouldn’t that be well enough time to open up at least a little bit?

You knew your thinking was illogical. Your job was to hunt targets and invade bases, not deep dive into your coworker’s soul, but you couldn’t help the way it took over your mind. Your need to understand him had become a bit of an obsession. You constantly found yourself looking at him, trying to discern any emotion his eyes betrayed. You listened intently for any of his input in person or on comms, no matter how menial it was. You studied his body language, taken note of any habits or gestures. You’d even memorized the way he reloaded his guns.

It was…embarrassing, to say the least. But could you blame yourself? He was so tall and strong and imposing that even just standing next to him made you, a normally very confident and intimidating woman, feel small. Such was the reason that you pushed yourself extra harder whenever you were paired up with him, making sure he knew you were valuable, a force to be reckoned with. Your excellent performance had made you two quite the duo, often clearing out legions of enemies in mere minutes. And you had to admit, seeing him absolutely obliterate enemy lines made you feel some type of way…

But not like that, of course. You were just…curious. When he finally opened up to you (and not if, but when), your obsession would stop, and everything would be fine. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

Today, however, there were a lot less enemies than you’d expected. Sure, there were quite a few soldiers stationed around the warehouse (which your team had incapacitated quickly), but inside, save for some scientists and the occasional guard, it was eerily empty and quiet.

“It’s fucking cold,” Horangi’s voice rang out from your radio. You sighed and brought the device to your lips.

“It’s fucking Russia,” you stated. “What did you think it’d be? Beachy?”

König’s quiet chuckle sounded from in front of you, and you couldn’t help the pride that swarmed in your heart. Heat burst in your cheeks, but you tried to brush it off.

“Fuck off,” Horangi replied. “East side clear.”

“West unknown,” you said. “Standby.” You tucked the radio back into your pocket, following your teammate.

You both peeked around the corner to the last room. It was filled to the brim with lab equipment—beakers, bunsen burners, flasks, microscopes—all sitting atop of large resin tables. Bright, fluorescent lights bounced off the sterile grey walls and ceiling, creating a dull glare that was almost depressing. Neat racks of tightly sealed vials and test tubes peeked through glass cabinets on the walls, parallel to the large sinks below. Across the room was a row of unfamiliar-looking equipment, and next to that, an enormous whiteboard boasting messily scrawled notes, diagrams, and equations. A bag of what looked like takeout sat on a nearby desk next to a crumpled napkin and a perspiring styrofoam cup. It was almost exactly what you’d imagined a stereotypical laboratory to look like, albeit a bit messier and more lived in. A singular man stood working at one of the tables, frantically scribbling on a notepad with his back facing toward you. König motioned for you to stay put as he crept forward. You complied.

Then the man dropped his pen.

“Xyй,” he cursed and turned around to pick it up. Of course, when he turned around, he saw König’s gigantic form pointing a gun at him, and he screamed. You fired your suppressed pistol, but not before the scientist hurled a glass vial at König. It shattered against his tactical vest as the dead scientist crumpled to the ground, releasing a burst of lavender-colored smoke that curled into the air and quickly dissipated.

König ripped off his tactical vest, coughing violently, but it was too late—the substance had already entered his lungs, likely reaching his bloodstream by now. He stared at you, blue eyes wide with—for the first time you’d ever seen—fear.

“Oh, fuck,” he muttered, and he staggered to the wall, crashing down to the floor.

“König?” You stared at him, stricken. His eyes were closed, and he was stock still—stiller than you’d ever seen him—and for a long, hard moment, you thought he might be dead.

Then his eyes snapped open. His pupils were dilated and blown, a sea of black barely tinged by blue irises. He stared at you, unmoving, before letting out a groan and bringing his hand over his face.

“Oh, fuck,” you whispered. You grabbed your radio. “M-man down!” you stammered into it. “König’s been exposed. West side clear. Requesting med evac in thirty minutes. Going dark.” You turned it off, not bothering to listen to any input. The rest of your team knew what this meant. As did you.

In the time you’d been on the radio, König had torn off all of his other gear, leaving himself in just his shirt, pants, and boots. He was panting, his chest heaving with each breath, ungloved hand still hiding his masked face as he cursed in German.

You crossed the room in seconds and kneeled at his side. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay, König, just breathe—”

“No,” he breathed. His voice was deeper, raspier than normal, and the unbridled heat in it sent a shiver down your spine. His hands were clenched into fists, body tensed as he fought the invisible infection. “Go. Now.”

“You know I can’t leave—”

His hand fell to his side, letting his eyes meeting yours for a split second. “Please,” he groaned, starting to tremble as you drew closer. “I—I can’t—”

His gaze strayed lower, and you followed it to the growing bulge in his pants. You gulped, unmoving, and he grabbed your arm. The force of it was enough to make you still.

“Go,” he insisted, his accent even thicker than usual. “I’m not—I cannot control myself.”

“I’m not gonna leave you here!” you argued, swatting his hand away. “You’re my teammate. You could die.”

“I will hurt you,” he retorted. All the muscles in his body were tensed, clearly on overdrive. Even his eyes were watering. “Please, maus. I am not gentle.”

Something inside about his statement made your thighs clench together, but you tried to ignore it. Tentatively, you brought your hand to his chin, pulling his face towards you. His skin was feverish, and your heart twisted in sympathy. “Let me help you,” you pleaded, and he inhaled sharply.

“It feels like I’m burning,” he hissed, and you frowned. His black compression shirt was nearly soaked with sweat, and you grabbed the fabric, pulling it up. He pawed at your arm weakly, but you shushed him.

“You’re overheating. Take it off,” you ordered, and finally, he let you pull it over his head, sagging back against the wall as you threw it to the side.

You’d seen him without a shirt before—it was hard not to with this kind of job, what with donning injuries all the time—but this was different. His head was thrown back as he panted, toned chest heaving with each breath, and you could see all of the muscles in his chiseled abdomen clenched, glistening with a thin sheen of sweat. It was… erotic. Just looking at him made you feel dirty. You felt the thrum of something other than worry in your abdomen, and you swallowed.

“Leave me,” König growled, but it sounded more desperate than commanding. You shook your head at him.

“Not letting you die, König.” You began to rip off your gear, tugging off your tactical vest and discarding your weapons.

König grabbed your wrist. “What are you…?”

“Wanna help you, okay?” you said softly, trying to catch his eyes as they darted over your face. “Are you gonna let me?”

He took in a deep breath, his other hand in a death grip on his thigh. “I-I don’t want to hurt you,” he repeated, but it was starting to lose its original harshness. He was fading, and fast.

“It’s okay,” you murmured. You placed your hand on his bare chest, feeling the way his heartbeat stuttered and stammered under your touch. He cursed in response, the hand on your wrist twitching, clearly fighting the urge to touch you. In a split-second decision, you swung your right leg over his lap and straddled him, careful not to grind against him, waiting for an answer first. He let out a choked noise and grabbed you by the hips, his tight grip making you gasp. “Yes or no?” you breathed.

“Ahhh, maus.” The low groan he let out was nearly animalistic. “Yes,” he begged, and that was all you needed to hear.

You started grinding on his lap gently, trying to restrain yourself from going further. You wanted to be mindful of his sensitivity, but König simply huffed in annoyance and used his tight grip on your hips to tug you all the way down into his lap—allowing you to feel everything. The imprint of his hard, throbbing cock made you dizzy; you couldn’t resist pressing against it, moaning softly at the delicious friction it granted your clit.

“Scheiße,” König murmured, his thighs twitching underneath you. You felt bad, knowing he was probably dying for some real contact, so you decided to give it to him.

Your heart raced as you reached for his waistband, unbuckling his belt and sliding his pants to his knees. His cock was straining against his briefs, a wet patch forming from precum, and you quickly removed those as well, watching his hardened cock spring up and then fall slightly, its weight making it unable to reach his stomach. Your mouth went dry. Fuck, he was huge. You supposed it made sense: as an exceptionally large man, it was logical to have a proportionally large cock, but the sight of it still shocked you.

“Maus,” he whispered, breaking you out of your trance. He stared at you apprehensively, and you wrapped your much smaller hands around his cock, hearing him suck in a breath. You took a moment to marvel at the sheer size of him—your normally average-sized fingers looked miniature in contrast, unable to even fully wrap around his length. You felt your own arousal seep into your underwear, and you leaned down to kiss his tip.

The moan he let out turned you on even more than before, and you wasted no time teasing him, spitting into your hand and pumping his cock a few times before bringing the tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue over the slit before pushing him further down your throat. His cock was so large that you had to fight not to scrape your teeth against it, flattening your tongue under the base of it.

His hand fisted into your hair, pulling slightly every time you moved your lips up and down his shaft, twisting your hand in tandem. Your other hand gripped onto one of his thick thighs, feeling his leg twitch as he struggled not to buck his hips up into your mouth. Each strained noise and curse you coaxed from him only encouraged you more, your own whimpers muffled against his cock as you did your best to fit him down your throat.

After only a few minutes, you felt him twitching in your hand and sped up your pace, determined to pleasure him as much as possible. Curses fell from his lips as he finished, hot spurts of his release shooting down your throat. You swallowed it quickly, continuing to pump your hand up and down his still rock-hard shaft.

König, however, pulled you off quickly, eyes wide and dark with an almost fearful desperation as he stared at you. “The poison. It’s still…”

You looked back down to see his cock still twitching in your hand. “It’s okay,” you said, starting to lean back down, “I’ll just—”

“No!” He pulled you back up by the neck. You blinked at him in shock, and he stared back, pupils blown wide like black moons. There was a fiery hunger in his eyes as he looked at you, one you’d never seen before. The sheer want in his gaze sent a cold shiver down your spine. No one had ever looked at you like this before—like you were prey.

“König?” you asked nervously.

Instead of answering, he began to unbuckle your belt, and you gasped as his hand reached under your waistband to cup your clothed core, index finger tracing lightly over your clit. You fought back a mewl, chest seizing as you shut your eyes from the pleasure.

“So wet,” he marveled. He pushed your underwear to the side, smearing your arousal over your soaked folds as you whimpered, bucking your hips into his hand. “Just from sucking my cock?”

His switch in demeanor startled you, and you moaned as one of his large fingers pressed into your weeping hole, curling inside you with precision. His hands were so much bigger than yours; the stretch was making your knees weak. He quickly found your G-spot, taking care to press against it as you arched into him. “Oh, oh, fuck, König,” you whimpered, coaxing a dark chuckle from him that made you clench around him.

Your thighs clenched around his hand, but he pried them apart with ease, forcing you to straddle him and rendering you helpless to his ministrations as he slowly dragged another finger in and out of you. With each achingly slow push into your dripping hole, he made sure to curl them just right, long fingers able to reach that sensitive spongy spot inside you effortlessly. His palm laid flat against your clit as he stroked your walls, letting you sloppily grind into his hand as he murmured praise into your ear.

“Does that feel good, liebling?” he asked, drinking in each of your breathy, pleasured noises with satisfaction. “You like making a mess on my fingers, mm?”

You simply whimpered, too embarrassed of your flustered state to form a real response. He seemed to pick up the hint, giving you a cocky smirk through his mask. “Ohh, it’s okay, maus,” he cooed, but his soft words were laced with a smug condescension that made your cheeks burn. “You look so pretty like this, all dumb on my fingers. I wish I could’ve seen it earlier.”

You whined again, desperately grinding down on his palm for more friction. His slow pace was torturous, giving you just enough to feel pleasure but not enough to build it. It was mean. It was twisted. It was agonizing. You were eating it up.

“Please,” you tried, teary eyes boring into his. “Can you—can you please—”

“Can I what, maus?” He cocked his head, darkened eyes twinkling with mirth. “Tell me, or I can’t help you.”

You know what I want, you wanted to shout at him, but you knew that wouldn’t work. “Please,” you begged, “I need more."

“What more do you need, maus?” he asked again. “You have a mouth. Use it.”

“Need you to—” You whimpered pitifully, dropping your head into his shoulder. “Please, need you to go—go harder.” You nearly sobbed out the words, desperation winning out over your embarrassment. You were mortified at your teary, shaking voice, but he seemed to revel in it, squeezing your thigh in appreciation.

“Oh, is that what you wanted?” he teased, and you could hear the smirk in his voice. “You could have just said so.”

He set a steady pace with his fingers, bullying them inside of you hard enough to make you squirm against him. With each thrust, he curled them just right, sending your eyes rolling back and mouth falling open in heavy pants as you mewled into his shoulder. You were grateful to be spared of his intense gaze; you didn’t think you could look at him in the state you were in. It was mortifying just hearing the sounds of his fingers pumping in and out of your gushing cunt.

“Oh, maus,” he cooed into your ear as you trembled, keening at the stretch of his fingers. “You’re just so beautiful like this, you know. So fucking desperate and pathetic. I wish I could see you like this all the time.”

Would I like him to finger me like this all the time? Hell yes, you thought to yourself, but you couldn’t find the words to tell him, only able to whine and nod vigorously into his shoulder, lost in the feeling of his fingers inside you. You could feel yourself starting to reach the edge of your climax, grinding harder and harder into his palm and gasping with each spark of pleasure it gave your throbbing clit. You were so wet that you were starting to wonder if you’d been infected, too; each time he hit your g-spot just right, you felt more and more slick dribbling out of you and down your thighs. It was driving you insane.

“K-König!” You managed a cry of his name right before you came, clenching around his fingers as you bucked your hips into his hand. Breathy whines fell from your lips, your thighs shaking and seizing as you squirmed in his hold, feeling an almost overwhelming wave of pleasure wash over your body. The feeling was so intense it was almost painful; you hadn’t had an orgasm in so long, and the effect was palpable. His arms held you tight, keeping you grounded while you shuddered in his grasp, his big fingers determined to prolong your ecstasy.

When you finally came down from your high, you couldn’t look at him, mortified at your messy state. His fingers were still knuckle-deep in your arousal, and you could feel more of your slick dripping down your thighs, wet and uncomfortable. You kept your head buried in his chest shyly while your happy cunt stayed spasming in his hand.

“Okay, schatz?” he asked softly, using his free hand to tilt your head towards him. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

You stared up at him, mouth open. There were practically hearts in your eyes; your adoration was clear to him, and he laughed at your expression, cradling your cheek with his hand. “Aww, schatz.” He clicked his tongue, a smile audible in his voice. “You’re so sweet.”

Your cheeks burned red at the words, and you blinked rapidly, unable to look away. His piercing blue eyes stayed trained on yours, but there was a warmth in them that soothed you. He petted your cheek, lifting his hood to press a kiss to your forehead.

Your mind felt fuzzy. All you could think about was your need to be filled by him, and you pawed at his hard cock, wrapping your fingers around the base of it. A hiss of pleasure escaped him, and you kept your eyes on his, wide and pleading. “Please fuck me,” you whispered, still trembling in his grasp.

König’s eyes darkened, and he tugged off the rest of your bottoms quickly. His strong hands lifted you to hover you over his cock, and you shuddered with anticipation, head spinning. He rubbed the tip through your dripping folds, coaxing out a gasp as it brushed over your swollen clit. You tried to push him inside, squirming, but his tight grip on the bottoms of your thighs kept you in place, and you whined his name, hoping he would take pity on you.

“Bitte, König,” you begged, and he practically growled at the words, mercifully allowing you to sink onto the tip of his cock and drawing out a desperate mewl. Even with how wet you were, he was so, so big that he was practically tearing you in half.

“K-König—”

“Hush, liebling,” he soothed, and you moaned as your core clenched around him, beacons of pleasure ripping through you from just the feel of him. He waited for you to relax and then pushed in farther as you gasped at his length.

“Mmph! König—” You keened as he continued to push himself into you, waiting each time to make sure you were okay. You could feel his hard cock twitch with each thrust, and you knew it must be difficult for him not to go straight into fucking you, that he was holding himself back to be more gentle. The thought only made you moan louder.

Tears slipped down your cheeks when he finally bottomed out, and he wiped them away with his thumb. “I’m sorry, maus,” he groaned, no doubt feeling the way you clenched around him. “You’re just—so tight—”

You wanted to tell him to it was okay, but from your already fucked out mind, all that came out was a dumb whimper of his name. In response, he pulled up his sniper hood to kiss your forehead, to which you whined and chased his lips with your mouth. This made him chuckle, and he guided your lips to his, coaxing out a soft moan as his tongue met yours. He tasted wonderful, and you mewled into his mouth, feeling even more worked up from the way he kissed you: hot and desperate and sweet, like the world was ending and you were the last ones in it.

“Mein maus,” he growled, suddenly thrusting up into you and making your eyes roll back. His hips snapped against yours, setting a pace that sent your thoughts reeling. “Taking me so well, doing so good for me, hm? Du bist mein schatz, ja?”

“Yes, fuck—yes,” you babbled, barely able to understand what he was saying. His unusually rough tone was fogging up your dumbed-out mind, the contrast between his sweet words and punishing pace reducing you to nothing but a crying, creaming mess. You’d never been this wet for someone before. “Yes, yes, yes, I’m yours, please—”

“Good girl,” he moaned, pushing you up and down his cock with dizzying strength. Your legs tightened around his waist as he thrust up into you, high-pitched and pitiful noises falling from your lips at a shameful volume. He was using you like a toy, you thought, and the notion of it made your pleasured cries even louder.

“Mmm, yeah? Mmm?” He mimicked your breathy moans, and you could hear the grin in his voice. Normally, you’d be mortified, likely retorting with some witty insult, but now? Now with the way he was fucking you, all you could do was whine in pitiful response.

“So needy for me,” he groaned, punctuating each word with a deep thrust. The sheer force of him made your eyes roll back, and you felt that tight coil in your belly close to snapping.

“Fuck, König—” You panted heavily, your legs starting to give out. “K-König, oh my God, I’m gonna—”

“I know,” he cooed, pulling you closer to his chest so your clit could find purchase on his toned abs. “Doing so good for me, schatz. Such a good girl, getting off on me like this. Like the way I feel, mm?”

His sweet praise became your tipping point, your orgasm hitting you like a freight train. You cried his name, mouth falling open in shock as your legs kicked out, your cunt weeping and convulsing around him as you keened. You gasped for air as your orgasm rocked through you, the pleasure suddenly becoming all too much as he continued to drill himself into your gushing cunt.

Tears streamed down your cheeks as you sobbed from the overstimulation, but he didn’t let up his pace, pressing chaste kisses to your lips to soothe you. “Wonder how many orgasms I can get from you,” he murmured. You could hear the smile in his voice as he panted. “How many more, mein schatz?”

“I—I don’t know!” you cried as his pelvis dragged against your clit, sending shocks of electricity through you. “I don’t—I can’t—”

He groaned as you trembled in his hold, pretty blue eyes boring into yours. “You can do it for me,” he replied. “I know you can. Isn’t that right, liebling?”

“Ahh—König—” The juxtaposition of his soft kisses and brutal pace was making your head spin. Too overwhelmed to answer, you just clutched onto his shoulders tighter, crying out every time his skin brushed against your puffy, overstimulated clit. It was painful. It was overwhelming. It felt so fucking good.

“Hush, mein schatz,” he coaxed, holding you closer as you clenched around his cock, babbling incoherently as he fucked up into you. “You’re doing so good, I promise.”

The answer was two. Two more earth-shattering orgasms before he finally went soft, coming inside of you twice before either (1), his dick just gave out, or (2), the poison wore off. Either way, by the end of it, you were exhausted and fucked out, still recovering from your cock-drunk state as he cleaned you up.

“I’m sorry, maus,” he apologized, sounding genuinely remorseful as he gently wiped your soaked thighs with a clean cloth he had found in the room. “I’m so sorry, I don’t—I don’t know what came over me.”

“Drugs,” you supplied, staring at the ceiling in exhaustion. “Really bad drugs.”

“Yes, drugs,” he agreed, carefully mopping your folds as you sighed. “But still—I am sorry. I was…overzealous. I hope I did not hurt you too bad.”

“I’ll be a little sore,” you admitted, glancing at the bruises his fingers had left on your waist and hips. “But I’ll be fine, trust me.”

He sighed, somehow managing to look resigned even with the sniper hood. “I should not have been so hard on you. I’m sorry.”

“Honestly?” you murmured, blinking at him sleepily. “That was the best sex I’ve ever had.”

He froze for a moment. “What?”

“Not that I’ve had a lot of sex,” you said quickly. “But still, that was the best I’ve ever had. Probably will ever have, now that I think about it. You must be very experienced. Oh God, I should not have said that out loud. I am—I am so sorry.”

Even with his sniper hood on, you could tell he was blushing. “Oh, um—it’s okay, maus.” You could hear the shyness in his voice. “I do not consider that to be my best performance, but I will take it as a compliment.”

“Your best performance?” You stared at him, mind running through everything that had just happened. You’d had sex before, but that—that was a whole ass experience. You’d never even dreamed about anything that good. “Christ, what’s your best performance, then?”

“Well,” he replied, sliding your soaked underwear back up your legs for you, “I would have taken you out on a date first, at the very least. That would be the proper way to court you.”

“Court me?” you repeated, sitting up straight. “I didn’t know you were so well-mannered, König.”

He looked away from you, shifting awkwardly from his spot on the floor. “I try to be courteous before sticking my dick in people.”

It took you a moment to realize he was joking, and you laughed—actually really laughed out loud. His awkward humor was charming you, and you felt warmth swell in your chest as you listened to him speak. You grinned at him, his eyes crinkling in a smile back.

König still smiled, but a hint of sadness pervaded his gaze. “Ah, schatz.” He hesitated. “I would have liked to make love to you,” he sighed, “but I did not imagine these would be the circumstances. I was hoping to take you on a date first, get to know you better.”

“You wanted to what?” Your eyes widened, and you blinked in confusion. “But…I thought you didn’t like me.”

König practically jolted in place. It was like you’d electrocuted him. He stared at you. “Why would you ever think that?”

“You talk to everyone but me,” you said softly. “I thought you didn’t trust me. Thought you hated me.”

“Hated—?” He shook his head vigorously. “No, I wanted to speak to you. You just…made me nervous. The others do not.”

“I made you nervous?” The words fell from your lips with shock, your eyebrows furrowing. “How would I—how did I ever make you nervous? You’re like three times the size of me!”

König shrugged, sheepish. “You’re very pretty. And you seemed…kind, and well-connected with the others. I have trouble finding that connection. I didn’t want to say the wrong thing to you and fuck it up.”

“So you said nothing at all.” You were quiet for a moment, turning over the information in your mind. “Wow. I was way off.”

“Yes,” he agreed, “but it is okay. I’m sorry for making you think I disliked you, schatz.”

“It’s okay,” you chuckled, shaking your head in disbelief. You ran a hand through your hair, beyond shocked at everything happening. You couldn’t believe you’d fucked your colleague, the one you’d had a crush on for who knows long, and also discovered that he didn’t, in fact, hate you. “At least I know now.”

“Next time, I will be better,” König vowed, helping you tug on your pants. “More gentle. I will do things right, I promise.”

“Next time?” You hesitated, biting your lip. “There will be a next time?”

“Of course there will,” he answered, adjusting his tactical gloves. “Did you not hear what I said earlier?”

“Um…which one?” He’d said a lot of things earlier.

He helped you to your feet, towering over you as he cupped his large hand under your jaw. Your heart stopped in your chest as you looked up into his eyes, his large frame dwarfing yours beyond comparison. “Du bist mein schatz, ja?” he repeated, gloved thumb tracing over your bottom lip. His very soul seemed to ooze confidence. “That’s what I said, no?’

With the way he was making you feel right now, you didn’t think it was even possible to say the word no. “Y-yes,” you stammered, adoration clear in your eyes as you gazed up at him.

He chuckled and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “So there will be a next time. Unless, of course, you don’t want to.”

“N-no, no, no, I definitely want!” you said quickly. You stumbled over your words in your eagerness, and your cheeks flushed in embarrassment. “I would like that a lot.”

“Good,” he said, patting the top of your head. Normally, you’d be furious at such an action, but considering his height, it seemed more practical than condescending. “Now come, schatz,” he said, adjusting his vest. “Time to deny everything to the rest of the team.”

Oh, fuck. You sighed. “Yeah…I forgot about that.”

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emilyprentissslutsstuff · 4 months

Text

Home Run Part 2 – Emily Prentiss x Fem!BAU!Reader

Warnings: Smut, mommy kink, praise kink, mentions of alcohol

Set directly after Part 1, little bit shorter than the first one and the ending feels a little bit rushed but I wanted to get it written. Might eventually do a Part 3, leave any requests or prompts you have! Thank you for reading and enjoying!

18+MDNI

It puzzled you how quickly and easily Emily was able to shift from her sexually dominant side to… sitting down and eating dinner with her subordinates. You tried not to dwell on it too much, you couldn’t really, as the team scrutinized how you played during the game. Derek tried to play it off like you were a one hit wonder.

“Morgan, you shit head, it looks like you’re gonna eat your words again. Prentiss here said she was gonna be coming out to the games more so be prepared to be proved wrong,” you blew the paper of your straw at him.

He smiled sheepishly at you, “Fine, I’ll admit it. You swing a bat better than I do, but you’re just lucky the Bureau doesn’t have any other sports teams because I’d kick your ass.”

“I’m just glad he found someone else to play with, he’s not trying to make me go out there with him,” Reid sighed thankfully from beside you.

“Has the Doctor been holding out on me?” you asked jokingly as the team laughed at his remark. The group continued their celebrations, drinking and laughing as they ate. Everyone was too absorbed in the collective conversation to notice the subtle glances exchanged between you and your boss.

The dinner soon ended and everyone was about to part ways. Derek had asked you if you wanted him and Savannah to drive you back home, being he had picked you up before the game.

“Thanks, but no thanks Morgan. Prentiss offered to take me, and she’s nicer to me anyways,” you shoved him lightly, chuckling.

He threw his hands up defensively, “Suit yourself, All-Star. Don’t say I never did anything for ya.” He shook his head as he laughed, walking back towards his car.

“Damn, you’re good,” you heard from behind you, causing you to jump. You had almost forgotten Emily was standing right there, most definitely waiting to ruin the composure you were able to hold around the others. And probably enjoy it.

You turned on your heel, “What?” You were confused, something that was becoming frequent around the older woman. She pursed her lips, eyes studying you silently as you approached her. You tilted your head at her, waiting expectantly for her response.

“Let’s go,” she commanded, her eyes and head flicking towards her vehicle as she turned without another word. You stood stunned for a moment before following after her, watching the sway of her hips as you caught up to her.

“You’re bossy,” you grumbled moodily, even though you knew that was part of the reason you were so attracted to her. She knew it too by the cheeky smile that formed her features.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she said condescendingly, stopping in her tracks, her voice sharp and careful as if it was a warning to you. “Don’t get mouthy now. You’ve behaved so well, why d’you want to start acting up? Hmm?” You could feel the effect of her words heating up your face and your core, which you tried to hide from her by averting your gaze.

She laughed at you, her hand moving to the small of your back as she guided you gently to her car. The ride was mostly quiet as you wrestled with the feelings in your mind, trying to sort through your thoughts. Before you knew it you were at Emily’s brownstone.

You knew you were in for it as the sound of the door closing seemed to echo throughout, followed by Emily practically pouncing on you while pushing you against the door. Her lips crashed against yours as she pulled your body closer to her, hands resting tenderly on your waist. It seemed her mouth and hands were on different wavelengths, an assault of hot kisses and quick nips as she trailed along your jaw and neck. But her hands moved leisurely, precisely as she snaked them up your shirt, brushing your skin almost hesitantly as if prepared to still at the drop of a hat.

Her knee nudged between your legs but did little to relieve your throbbing core. Your hands grasped roughly at the tight denim fabric of her jeans, unable to grip her ass the way you wanted to be able to. You groaned indecently at the way her mouth glided across your skin, teeth pulling and releasing, leaving her mark on your flesh.

“Emily,” you whined as your fingers fumbled with her zipper, your earlier embarrassment shifting into shameless desperation. Her hands lifted your jersey above your head, falling back to your torso and leading you to her bedroom while discarding the rest of your clothes along the way. You had managed to pull her shirt off but she remained in her bra and unbuttoned pants.

Only Emily Prentiss can look sexy taking off skin tight blue jeans you thought to yourself as you watched them peel off her figure. Your stomach tightened at the sight of her exposed body, admiring the curve of her hips as she pulled you towards her. She whispered something in your ear, her breath raising goosebumps across your skin as her words went unheard.

You pulled her fingers down to your thighs with a whimper, your implicit way of asking her to touch you. She, however, was not letting you off that easily, chuckling at you as she trailed her fingers slowly back up your abdomen. There was no doubt she was enjoying her ability to reduce you to futile whimpers and whines, and you knew from the almost arrogant smirk on her lips that she would prolong her teasing as long as she could.

A breathy mumble of, “Please,” fell from your lips as your head dropped to her shoulder, pressing soft open mouth kisses against her collarbone. Her arms wrapped tightly around you, her hands rubbing against your shoulder blades until they met in the middle of your back.

She laid you delicately on the bed, her soft touches greatly contrasting the haste of your tongue she had felt earlier that night. It made you feel a little guilty that you had rushed through pleasuring her, but the thought was quickly pushed from your mind as Emily parted your lips with her fingers. Instinctively, you drew them into your mouth, sucking on them gently until she pulled them out.

Her fingers slipped into with ease, although she didn’t need to lubricate them. You were pretty sure there was a wet spot forming underneath you from the second she had laid you down. A gasp escaped your lips as a smirk fell on hers as she felt how wet you were, vulgar sounds filling the air as she lazily pumped her fingers inside of you.

“Barely have to do anything and you’re this wet?” Emily asked proudly.

“Mmhmm,” you moaned, your eyes closed as you rolled your hips, pushing her digits deeper as her wrist thrust. You felt her mouth trail down your neck, latching onto your nipple. She stared up at you through half lidded eyes, blinking at you slowly as her tongue swirled around the bud.

You felt your chest flutter like her eyelashes, watching as she moved carefully down your body. Her fingers slowed to almost a stop as she sunk her teeth lightly into the skin of your hip. You were gasping and squirming with every movement as if no one had ever touched you before which only added to Emily’s amusement.

“Need you,” you mumbled, lifting your hips in attempt to persuade her stationary hand.

“I can see that,” she smiled against your skin.

“So mean, I didn’t tease you,” you were still squirming, your fingers running gently through her hair as you admired her. Despite your desperation, you appreciated her ability to stay patient, a quality of hers you always adored. It was certainly an ability you didn’t have and was working against your favor.

“You didn’t,” she mused. “You were very eager to please.”

Her fingers began thrusting into you, curling against your sweet spot as she lowered her mouth to your clit. The sudden stimulation caused your back to arch as her hand trailed up your stomach, reaching to cup your breast.

You clenched the duvet in your fist, your other hand resting gently in her hair as you breathed an elongated groan of, “Fuckk, Emily!”

Your gasps and moans filled the air, her tongue gradually getting faster as she circled your clit. Your head was thrown back, you couldn’t bring yourself to look down knowing you’d likely fall apart at the sight of her head between your legs. She gently rolled your nipple between her thumb and forefinger, pulling another groan from you.

“So needy for mommy, aren’t you?” she whispered breathily, her voice was soft and sweet as if she was still seducing you. You felt your heartbeat flutter in your chest at the sound of her voice, your face flushed red.

“Yes!” you cried out sharply, your hand flying to grasp hers resting on your chest as she intertwined your fingers.

You could feel your muscles tensing as your orgasm built up, your thighs twitching as her movements became more fervent. Her hand gripped yours tightly, almost affectionately, while the other plowed unrelentingly into you.

“Em-fuck, Emily, please, I’m so close,” you whimpered, feeling your nails dig into her skin slightly and clutching her hair a little harder than you intended. She sucked the sensitive bud of your clit between her lips, eliciting another moan of pleasure.

“Look at me.”

Your chin dropped to your chest, your eyes meeting wide brown orbs staring up at you expectantly, just waiting to watch you unravel. And that was all it took to push you over the edge, a jolt exploding through your body as your muscles spasmed around her.

A string of half coherent expletives and pleas along with several gasps and moans tumbled from your lips. Your hips began grinding against her mindlessly, chest heaving dramatically with erratic breaths as your orgasm rippled throughout you entirely.

Her eyes never left yours as you struggled between looking at her and allowing your eyes and head to roll back. Her tight clasp on your hand kept you grounded in reality as you rode out the high of your climax, gradually releasing her hair as your muscles began to relax and she slowed her fingers and tongue.

She crawled up your body, sucking your wetness from her fingers as you silently caught your breath. Your eyes were shut tightly as you had already began planning your exit strategy, trying to figure out how to push down the awkwardness you were already beginning to feel.

It was as if Emily could read your racing thoughts, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze before letting go. She tilted your head toward her by your chin, prompting you to open your eyes. The soft look on her face washed away the feelings of doubt that were quickly clouding your mind, a small smile beginning to tug the corners of your mouth.

She pressed her lips lightly along your jaw and the curve of your neck, mutters of praise and admiration sealed against your skin. Your hand found the back of her neck, your smile growing as her mouth trailed to your lips. She fell beside you, wrapping your body around hers and pressing your head against her chest.

You relaxed against her, a soft sigh escaping your lips as her finger traced light circles along your back. Your hands wandered innocently over different parts of her skin, familiarizing yourself with her body. The two of you laid like that for a while, no words needed, until Emily stirred. Untangling herself from you, she placed a kiss on your shoulder before standing up.

You held your breath, waiting for her to tell you to leave but to your surprise, she didn’t. “I’ll run a bath for you, you should stay with me tonight. Unless we get called in on a case, we won’t have to go into work,” she suggested as she rounded the bed.

She disappeared without another word, leaving you to mull over what she had said. You didn’t want to let her seemingly fond behavior to indulge the feelings you had for her. You shook the thoughts from your head, picking up the book that sat neatly on her bedside table to focus on something else.

“Late night reading?” Emily asked, emerging from the bathroom in a silky dark blue robe. Suddenly feeling very vulnerable, you shifted nervously as you placed the book back to its original place.

“Didn’t take you for a mystery reader, figured you’d get enough whodunnit at work.”

She laughed heartily, “I like being able to solve it half way through, I read twice as many books that way.”

“Oh, Emily Prentiss, the slacker,” you chuckled.

“So that’s what you’d call what I just did? Slacking?” she grabs your hips roughly, pulling you to the edge of the bed.

“Will that make you do it again?”

“No, you’ll have to say please if that’s what you want honey,” she tells you, laughing as she let go of you and you sat up with a pout.

“Oh, you are such a tease, Prentiss.”

#emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss #emily prentiss smut #criminal minds #fanfic #emily prentiss fanfiction

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jaylver · 10 months

Text

MIDNIGHT RAIN (BACK TO YOU) — S.JY

SYNOPSIS: You declared to the world that this summer will be yours. Ever since you’ve left home to chase your dream further in Europe, you never dared to look back, leaving your friends and family along with the precious memories there, including your silent love for your closest friend. Years passed, you were making a name for yourself and chasing that fame, settling in perfectly fine and eventually moved on with life. All was well until the transfer window came, announcing a new addition to the men’s first team, who also happened to be your childhood best friend, Jake Sim. Summer in Spain wouldn’t be what it is without experiencing lots of rekindling, heartbreaks, fallout but also a shot at love.

PAIRINGS: pro-footballer!jake x pro-footballer afab!reader

GENRE: childhood friends to lovers, college/professional sports au, romance, angst, pining, (slight) slow burn

WARNING(S): mentions of alcohol, drinking, parties, profanities, miscommunication, jake being a dense asshole at times, both are confused about their feelings, hee being the group therapist again, slight suggestiveness

WC: 18k

AUTHOR NOTES: for my people who don't know which football this is, it's kickball football aka soccer 🫶 this is dedicated to my jake (enha stans in general) enthusiasts who happens to love football just like me! like always, feedbacks are greatly, HUGELY appreciated! it'll genuinely motivate me <3 enjoy :)

part 3 of 'no competition' series | series masterlist | masterlist

‘Y/N L/N TO JOIN FC BARCELONA FEMENI ON A FIVE YEAR DEAL. HERE WE GO.’

Sometimes, chasing your dreams meant leaving everything you loved behind and sacrificing a shit ton just to get to where you want to be.

Football has always been your passion since you were barely walking or even talking. The icons you’ve watched on TV every weekend such as Maradona, Messi and Pele only gave you more drive to chase that dream of yours, even when relatives disregarded it as a so-called ‘impossible childish dream’. Growing up, you joined your local youth team, where the boys and girls played together regardless, sharing the equal amount of joy and love for the sport.

Being barely five, you found yourself having a hard time mixing around with a bunch of kids that were one, two years older, feeling greatly out of place. Look, you were immensely grateful that you were regarded as a wonder kid that was significantly more talented than a whole load of your peers, but getting placed into a den full of kids taller and older than you? That was scary.

That was until a boy approached you out of the blue, confidently reaching his hand out for introductions. He was the cutest boy you’ve ever laid your eyes on and you swore he was miles better than the boys at your kindergarten. The boy who had a smile that resembled the sun and energy that reflected a jumpy golden retriever puppy was a year older than you, and he introduced himself as Jake Sim or Sim Jaeyun, volunteering to be your partner in practice. Since then, you’ve only gotten closer to Jake, not knowing he was about to be a permanent figure in your life.

The moment you’ve reached seven, the team was splitted into girls and boys, which meant you were unable to play with Jake anymore, but that didn't stop you from meeting up and practising together.

"You've gotten taller," you remembered yourself telling him that one afternoon.

Jake looked up from the ball under his foot, sweaty strands of hair clinging onto his forehead. "Really?"

"No."

Banter and jokes were frequent between you two, you loved pulling pranks on him and vice versa. It was common knowledge that you and Jake were inseparable leading up till highschool where everyone thought you and him were a couple, could you believe that? Okay, maybe living in the same neighbourhood, hanging out 24/7, constantly in the park playing football, having dinner almost every night together, studying in the same college and getting accepted into the national team at the same time were quite off putting for some people … right? You were in denial.

Safe to say you and Jake grew up to be great footballers and even better people. College was undeniably an obstacle for you, but as long as there was a football team, you were going to be fine, and fine you were, great even, when you joined the college football team while Jake joined the men’s team, representing your college to tournaments.

You would go to his games and watch him score goals while he would do the same and cheer you on. Soon enough, at freshly eighteen and nineteen, both of you were approached by widely known clubs from all over Europe for your signatures on a professional contract. This was it, college could wait, this was what mattered, you didn’t work your ass off for nothing.

"Bayern contacted you? You're kidding!"

It was a Saturday night at your place, a basic tradition that you and Jake had every weekend if there weren't any training or matches going on. A random low budget film in the background, a bowl of popcorn in the middle, you and your best friend laid on the ground of your bedroom, sharing the latest insight of your lives.

"I can't imagine myself in Germany though," Jake pouted, pulling the blanket closer to his chin. "What about you? Anything new?"

"Not much. There's the Arsenal Women's team that contacted me, they're good too," you shrugged.

"But you love the sun! Heard England's a bit gloomy,"

"You're not wrong," you snorted, shaking your leg a little, and soon it fell into silence, a pensive one.

You glanced over at Jake, the sparks in his brown eyes never left, the quirk tugged at the edge of his lips remained, he never changed, not at all. "Jake?"

"Hm?" He hummed in response, his gaze trained at the TV screen, gradually getting engrossed.

"What if we end up on different sides of the world? You know, with our future clubs and all,"

“I don’t think anything would ever change between us no matter what happens,” his words were filled with absolute confidence, saying it as if he had a clear idea of what the future might look, whereas you were overwhelmed just from thinking about it.

“Really?”

“You’ll still be my forever person, Y/N. Swear.”

You remembered those exact words from months ago, not expecting everything to turn sour almost immediately when you showed up on Jake’s doorstep right after you just signed your first contract. Endless thoughts swarmed your head, you prepared yourself for every reaction you could imagine from Jake. He had just returned from a training camp overseas, he must've been tired and this was bad timing, but you didn't have a choice either.

"Y/N?" The sun was already beginning to set by the time you reached his house by foot. The moment Jake opened the door, his face morphed into confusion as you tried your best to not break into cold sweat. "What're you doing here? I just got back and there's too much to unpack—the way there's college still is making me go nuts, I’m not going to be surviving in class—I promise I'll spill everything soon—"

"Jake," his name poured out of your lips naturally, except this time it had a dreadful undertone to it that you failed to mask. "I'm leaving,"

He blinked. One. Two. Two beats. "Leaving? To the camp you were saying? So soon—?"

"No, Jake, I–I'm leaving forever. Not forever and never returning kind of 'forever' but I'm moving away and I don't know when I'll be back. I know this is such a bad time to tell you since you just got back and I feel like such a jerk for dumping it all on you suddenly, but I wanted to break the news before you found it out from the tabloids—"

"Y/N, breathe," Jake reminded, instantly knowing your quirks which included this aka rambling whenever you got panicky, giving you a reassuring smile that felt like a ray of sunshine beaming on you. He was not making you feel better, instead he had you wishing you were staying instead.

"I'm moving to Spain, Jake," you swallowed, just saying it was absolutely surreal, you couldn't grasp the concept of moving from your hometown, you were about to be on your own and you were scared, petrified.

"You signed with Barcelona?" Jake gasped, a smile itching at the corner of his lips.

"I did," you said quietly, nodding.

"That's amazing! You've been dreaming of this. It’s such a big deal! Looks like you’ll be playing pro-football instead of collegiate football now, should I get your signature first?" Jake reached out to squeeze your shoulder, attempting at a joke but he immediately caught onto the solemn look on your face, leaning in to stare at you closer. This shouldn't be making your heart beat. "You don't seem happy,"

"It's not that, it's just that I—"

I like you.

"I will miss you … like crazy. I'm just not ready for change and I don't want to leave you back here," you stumbled on your words, making sure to not slip and ruin everything. Obviously saying 'I like you' and leaving afterwards was such a douche move, so what else was there to do but shutting up?

Jake let out a guttural sigh, and that alone definitely spoke more than words ever could. You furrowed your eyebrows, nervousness crept into your stomach. "Are you mad? Are you … angry?"

“Angry?” Jake repeated, disbelief evident in his voice, as if he couldn’t believe what you were accusing him of. His gaze softened, a glaze of affection taking over his brown irises. “How can I be mad at you for chasing your dreams? No way. I'm happy you're getting a shot at what you love,”

The boy that was standing in front of you was trying his best to remain optimistic, the smile on his face never faded, but you, on the other hand, were holding back tears. He was a sunshine, your sunshine, the one you soon had to let go.

"Jake…" your voice was weak, you took a step closer, then another, until you closed the space between and engulfed him into your arms. His body tensed for a moment, taken off guard by your sudden action, but he eventually wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you in. He felt like home, his familiar cologne was something you would never forget, the way his eyes crinkled whenever he smiled, his small giggles, the times you and he had walked around the tiny local football stadium, you couldn’t believe you were leaving all that behind.

"You're going to go far, Y/N, I've known that since the day we met," Jake whispered, his hand caressing the back of your head.

"I'll miss you … so so much," you repeated those words again, squeezing him tighter. You never wanted to let him go, and unknowingly, he felt the same.

"I'll miss you too," he pressed a kiss against the side of your head, and it felt as if it was a last goodbye.

You pulled away slowly, though reluctant to do so. His eyes locked with yours, longing and unwillingness hung in the air. “Will you come and send me off?”

“That’s a no brainer,” he laughed quietly, nodding enthusiastically.

“You better turn up.”

That was one of the last things you remembered saying to him before you left and everything turned into a blur. You were beginning to be a mess, the tears were eventually flowing out and it turned into big sobs. Thank the heavens no one was around when you walked home, or else they would be absolutely mortified to see a girl who was crying as if she was heartbroken. Well, quite?

What you didn’t and would never know was the fact that after you’ve left and the door slammed shut, Jake broke down into tears. In his nineteen years of living and winning tournaments, he swore he only cried a few times, all that was countable by hand. But this time, he felt worse than before.

Unbeknownst to you, you continued on your last few days thinking Jake was doing fine while you tried your best to seem sane. Saying your goodbyes to coaches from your college football team to your childhood club and even to your teammates, friends and relatives was hard, leaving your whole childhood here and moving away was too much of a big girl move, one that you weren’t fully prepared for.

Bags and luggages were packed, you fitted half of your life into those cramped spaces and you were loading them into the counter, your passport and flight ticket in one hand, your phone in the other. You were feverishly scrolling through many unread messages, not caring about them, you were just looking for one. No matter how many times you’ve refreshed, Jake never left you any messages, nor was he present to send you off.

“Honey, you good?” your mother checked in on you, noticing the fall in your expression.

“Huh?” you glanced up from your phone, shutting it off and shoving it into your back pocket. “I’m okay,”

“Is it Jake?”

At the mention of his name, your frown deepened and your mother sighed quietly, wrapping an arm around your waist and leading you to the waiting area. “I’m sure he’ll turn up, you’re leaving and there’s no way he’s letting you leave without saying a goodbye,”

“You think so? The flight’s leaving in an one or two,”

“It’s you. Jake cares about you a lot, you know that?”

There was no doubt about that. You knew so. You merely hummed, a slight hope sparked in you, but you said nothing, deciding to plug your earphones in and wait patiently instead, occasionally checking your phone for any notifications from said man, but there was none.

Those short hours eventually slipped past your fingers. The times you’ve glanced around were uncountable, the man you longed for to appear was nowhere to be seen, to say to were deflated was a given.

“Honey…” your mother rubbed your back gently and in comfort. You brushed off the feeling that was eating you and replaced your frown with your best smile, hoping to be able to reassure your mother that everything was fine, even if you felt the opposite of it.

“It’s okay, we should get going,”

Once you’ve located your boarding gate, you and your mother hugged in goodbye, exchanging final words, her constant reminders rung in your ears as you tried to suppress the oncoming anxiety and sadness that was gradually swallowing you wholly. Just as you said your last goodbye, turning around and ready to walk through your gate, you heard footsteps running behind you. You assumed it was someone rushing for their flight, that was until somebody had shouted your name.

“Y/N!”

Time stood still at that moment. The voice you wanted to hear for so long finally sounded in your ears. You were wondering if the tiredness had eventually gotten to you and you were hallucinating, but you weren't. He was real, right in front of you.

"Jake?" You whipped your head around, but before you could register anything else, Jake had thrown himself onto you, hands wrapped around your figure. His body crushed you and the warmth from him made you feel ten times better.

"I'm so sorry," he said profusely, rocking you side to side in his arms. "I was scared that I wouldn't be able to send you off. Something came up and I tried my best to rush here. Not to mention my phone fucking died on me too, I was panicking—"

"Jakey, all it matters is that you're here right now and nothing else," you reassured, relief filling you. “I’m just really happy to see you now,” you rubbed his back gently, hearing his ragged breathing by your ear.

Neither one of you wanted to let go, just letting time pass in each other’s arms and hoping that maybe all of this was a dream. Time was ticking agonisingly quick, you wished it was those moments where everything moved slow, but alas, you can’t have it entirely your way, can’t it? Soon, you had no choice but to pull away from Jake, praying he wasn’t an illusion tricking you.

“I’m going to miss you so much,” your voice came out weaker than expected and Jake seemed to notice it, his gaze softening significantly.

His callous hands cupped your cheek, his thumb grazing against the side of your eye softly. “Hey, you’re finally achieving your dreams. Think of that instead of me,”

You let out a choke that was meant to be a scoff, narrowing your eyes at him. “How could I possibly not think of you? You’re important to me, Jake,”

“And you’re important to me too, Y/N. I want to see you shine, and you will, I believe in you,” Jake squeezed your cheek slightly before removing his hand and reaching it to the back of his neck, unclasping the necklace he’s always worn. “I want you to have this,” he placed the necklace into your hands, the moon pendant shone bright under the bright lights.

“I can’t take this, you’ve always had it with you, it’s your lucky charm during matches—”

“I want to have it, genuinely,” Jake closed your hand around the chain, giving you one of his signature calming smiles. “Take care of it for me, the next time we meet I better see it around your neck okay?”

“I promise,”

“Don’t break it,” he laughed softly, his hand still holding onto yours.

You glanced at the time, cursing under your breath, realising this was it. This was the moment you were finally leaving to chase the dream you’ve always longed for. Jake probably understood that it was the time to let go, his gaze falling to the ground and he heaved a big breath.

“It’s time for you to go, Y/N,”

“It is,” you held your breath, longing for Jake’s touch to never leave, but time had to be a sore, leaving you no more extra minutes to spend and you had to let go, feeling the warmth of his hand no longer on yours. “Goodbye, Jake.”

“Goodbye, Y/N.”

That was where everything melted into a blur, the last waves of goodbye faint in your mind as you entered the plane, squeezing along the isles to locate your seat. You prepared for a long flight, closing your eyes and picturing the things that were awaiting you, but the thought of him eventually slipped in, haunting you.

Everything was about to change, and you didn’t know if it was for the best or for the worst.

RISING TO FAME WASN'T ON YOUR CHECKLIST.

Your first season was great, but the second and third were better, stellar even. This caught many eyes of football fans and Barcelona fans loved you with their hearts. Awards were won, achievements were made, but promises were broken.

It has been almost three years since that day in the airport. Crazy, huh? At the start, you had a hard time coping in a foreign country with zero knowledge of the local culture and the language. Not to mention, going to classes in your new college was challenging, you couldn’t even ask for directions. It was a blessing you opted not to share a dorm there and live on your own in the city instead, who knows what sabotages the language barrier and differences were going to do to you?

Thankfully, your teammates were kind enough to let you room with them and drive you to campus. One of them was able to communicate with you, but the other only spoke Spanish. Though the messy language barrier created confusions and misunderstandings, you somehow managed to not get evicted in the end and your Spanish was progressing positively.

Jake was a recurring appearance in your life. He often facetimes you, making sure to tell you his day from start to bottom, sharing about the parties he went to, his new hockey friends, the fresh discovery on the crazy world of college ice hockey, it was refreshing to hear him babble about everything from football to his college life after a long day, rolling around in bed giggling like a high school girl all over again. But that was all during what people called the ‘honeymoon era’, not knowing the eventual changes that you soon had to face.

Each year passed by in a blur. In the first, you constantly talked and kept in contact, but during the second year when Jake signed with Bayern Munich from the German league, his schedule was too packed and yours were the same, resulting in less communication. Occasional ‘congrats’ and ‘you did amazing’ were exchanged, but that was all. On your twenty-first birthday, you spent it with your friends and teammates, having a great time, but you were too caught up wishing Jake would text you a ‘happy birthday’ instead.

Drifting from someone was too easy, but letting them go entirely was hard. You were twenty one, winning awards and on the top of the league, but you still missed your day one, and you wondered if he felt the same or if it was just you. Yet, you couldn't be mad at him, unable to hold a grudge despite the fact that he hadn't tried enough, because you did the same.

“Can’t believe the season ended just like that,” Alexia, your captain and roommate slipped next to you, casually scrolling on her phone.

“It’s already been a few months, Alexia, it’s time for us to rest,” you smiled, understanding her love for playing especially since she had just recovered from a months-long injury and was craving for more play time. “There’s still a month left until the next season,”

“You’re right,” she hummed, her eyebrows furrowing as she glanced closer at her phone. “Barca has been investing a lot on new players lately,”

“There’s a number of new additions to the men's team,” you noted, scrolling on Twitter for any fresh news as well. “It’s valid since some of them left,”

“There’s a new addition today too, look it up. It’s an asian player,”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise. It’s not new that asian players were underrepresented in European football, the only one who was currently widely known was Son Heung Min, so hearing this was promising. Filled with curiosity, you typed into the search bar, wondering who this mystery player was.

No way.

What you didn’t expect was the picture of your childhood best friend, Jake Sim, popping up, his name littered all over the timeline, a load of news articles written about his latest transfer to Spain, specifically Barcelona, not Madrid. The other thing that totally set you off was a specific line he said in an interview about his transfer to Barcelona, ‘I’m ready for Spain and I know someone well who’s there right now, I hope to be able to see them.’ Unprovoked?

“Transferring from Bayern,” Alexia continued, cooing under her breath. “He’ll fit in well with Lewandowski in no time,” she glanced up from your phone, seeing your stunned expression and your rigid body. “Y/N?”

“Y–Yeah?” you stuttered, heartbeat rising gradually. You couldn’t believe this. After months of not talking, not even a slight update, he decided to move to the city you lived in without any notice. Worse of all, you couldn’t even avoid him. “Yes—no, not doing well actually,”

“Why?”

“Remember that friend who I kinda drifted off with?”

“The one who’s also a footballer—?” Alexia gasped upon realisation, eyes widened and her hands on her mouth. “You’re kidding. That’s him? The guy you called almost every night?”

“Bingo,” you clicked your tongue, crossing your arms and wishing how you could just scream into a pillow now.

The front door unlocked, twisted open and revealed Natalia, your other roommate, who happened to be holding bags of grocery in her hands. “What did I miss?” She said slowly, noticing the frazzled expressions of you and Alexia.

“The guy Y/N talks to every night is joining the men's team,”

“Jake Sim? He's the one who you grew up with?” Natalia dropped the bags, her keys and everything she had on hand, scooting over to join you on the couch.

“Yeah … him,”

“Tell me more.”

The new season for the women’s league was starting in a month and you certainly did a great job in avoiding Jake. You would applaud yourself at one point.

Barcelona might’ve been a big city, but with almost every Barcelona player staying in the same area, you would occasionally run into them, which meant the chances of seeing Jake was high. Not to mention, some of your training sessions at the training grounds would be either before or after the men’s team, and you made obvious efforts to run away quickly. You weren’t scared of Jake, no, never, but were you ready to face him after years of not seeing each other? Not really …

Through the help of Twitter, you found out that he had already completed his medicals, the announcement was out and he had given an interview. With the first game for the men's team coming up soon, the official account posted a training video and your eyes could only linger on him. His hair was freshly dyed blond and he seemed healthier, happier.

Everything was well and at peace until the news for you broke out. With the women's league starting later than the men's, you were apparently invited to be a special broadcaster for the men’s first league game, live, and by the pitch, meaning you were going to interview the players, Jake Sim included. For all the effort you’ve given to avoid Jake, the world seemed to have other plans for you. It was as if the universe was rooting for you to meet him again.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Natalia was seated on your bed as Alexia rummaged through your closet, picking out any presenter's appropriate outfit, dresses, shirts, skirts and pants all splayed out on your bed and floor.

“Fuck no,” you groaned, picking up a shirt that fell to ground. “I know I shouldn’t be avoiding him, we’ve been friends since we were kids, but the changes between us is drastic,”

“Drastic?” Alexia hummed, shoving back some pieces that weren’t in her criteria.

“After he transferred to Bayern, we talked less. He was the same, but something between us wasn’t. He said I changed,” you sighed, still remembering the conversation clearly.

“What did he even mean by that?” Natalia scoffed.

“No idea. I don’t think I’ve changed,”

“Does he think the 'fame' or something changed you in some ways?” Alexia's eyes sparked at the sight of a long black dress, a sly smile on her face.

“No clue, it's not like I can just hop into his mind,” you groaned, biting your lips nervously. “You’ve got the one already?”

“Duh,” Alexia said proudly, handing you a black midi silk dress that you haven't worn in a long time.

“Really?” You raised a questioning eyebrow at her and she shrugged.

“Hey, it's professional and eye-catching, totally appropriate,” Natalia chimed in, nudging you slightly.

“I'm sure someone will appreciate it.” Alexia winked and you were about to throw a pillow at her, but due to the limited time you have before kickoff, you might have to delay that.

You arrived early to the stadium, greeting the staff and hoping you made a good impression. Football was much easier than broadcasting on live television, even if it meant you were just a special presenter, you were still anxious. Fans were already filing in and you were done setting up, the pregame show had started and it was your cue to join.

“Here we have Y/N from the women’s team to join us this evening,” your co-presenter welcomed you. “How are you doing?”

“Great, thank you,” you smiled at the latter.

“Today marks the first league game of the season at home, fans are excited, what are your score predictions?”

You gave it a thought for a moment, choosing your words right in case of offending any Barcelona fans lurking on Twitter. “It’s hard to say, but I’m confident in Barca, and I’m sure the team will want to win the game, so I’ll say 1-0,”

“I’ll say the same too,” your co-presenter laughed, nodding in agreement. “As for the latest transfers from this summer window, there’s been a number but the one that caught my eye is the young prospect, Jake Sim, I’m excited to see him playing today,”

At the mention of his name, something inside you churned. A mix of butterflies and overwhelming pining washed over you, as much as you’ve avoided him, you equally missed his presence. “He’s a great player, I’m sure about that,”

“We’ll look forward to his performance later on. The game shall be starting after a short break. Until then.”

The prematch segment was done, but you weren’t entirely free, having to fulfil your position for the post match interview at the end. It wasn’t entirely bad, you were actually anticipating to watch Jake on the pitch in person after years. The clips on YouTube weren't enough, but you definitely noticed his vast growth and improvement.

The match started off slow, both team's defence were too strong and none were able to go past one another's territory. It was getting closer to halftime with no goals scored, your attention eventually shifted to the bench, your eyes immediately spotting a certain blond. Despite him being almost half a football pitch away from you, your eyes weren't fooling you that it was in fact Jake, and he was breathtaking, and real.

Before you gave him the chance to realise you're staring, you made sure to turn away. Maybe you were the problem, you were scared to face him, and you didn't know why, probably the awkwardness was the main reason. Did he feel the same?

After giving a short interview and accessing the first half, the second half started with a couple players getting substituted off. Jake was among the few players being substituted on, making his first match debut for the club. Your heart thumped, this was deja vu to the time you watched him make his debut for his first club. It was similar, and you were there too.

Watching him play live was different compared to the videos you've watched, he was phenomenal. No wonder many European clubs were on his tail trying to get him to sign for them. His time in Germany definitely made him grow a lot as a player.

"He's good," your co-presented mused, his eyes trained on the game that was 2-0 up, Barcelona leading without any doubt.

"Which?"

"The new transfer. Number five," he nodded towards Jake, his jersey number shining brightly under the sun as he dribbled past defenders, kicking the ball and assisting another goal.

"Wow! Another assist," your co-presenter jumped out his seat cheering, and you smiled, sure that he was about to receive 'man of the match' today. "He's a future star,"

"He's already a star."

The match ended with a win, starting the new season in a pop and letting fans travel home with a happy heart. You and your co-presenter went through the highlights of the match, soon it was time for the interview.

It wasn't pressuring as you knew most of the players, laughing and cracking jokes in between some questions, congratulating on the win and what not. Until it was Jake's turn, he was approaching slowly as people around him were throwing praises and clapping him on the back, his laughter was no stranger to you, you didn’t need a second thought to know that it was him at once, then he stumbled into your sight, those familiar brown eyes met yours, unblinking as if he was figuring out who you were.

"Jake,"

Now that he was closer, you were able to see him clearly. He never changed, he still radiates the same sunshine puppy energy that you've missed. The pictures you’ve seen online didn’t do him any justice either, he was insanely pretty, jaw dropping and mind blowing, the blond hair was a great addition.

"Hi," his voice came out in a whisper, as if he couldn't believe you were right in front of him at that moment. "Y/N," your name left his lips with a spark of fascination, until now you never forgot his voice and the way he said your name.

"Great game today for your debut," you tried shaking off the tension in the air, remaining as professional as you could be, but it was faltering.

"Thank you. I'm glad I didn't mess up," he bowed his head with a small smile.

"Congrats on getting 'Man of the Match', your assists were top,"

"You think so?"

"Of course I do," you nodded instantly. "I'm sure the fans thought so too,"

"I'm glad," he hummed, and it reminded you of those times he would seek your reassurance in practice or after games. Guess old habits are hard to die.

"Thanks for joining us for the interview, Jake. Congrats once again."

You ended the segment with a few more additions before wrapping up and calling it a day officially. As you walked down the tunnel, you thought of your short-lived interaction with Jake, wondering if this was the only moment you'd get with him before you two continue on straying apart again, but it seemed life had other plans.

You let out a yelp as you turned a corner, feeling someone tug at your wrist, pulling you into their chest and you took a solid ten seconds to realise it was Jake, staring up at him with your hands on his chest, to which you quickly removed along with your body in general.

"What are you doing?" You hissed out, glancing around in case of any camera recording.

"I just wanted to say hi," Jake shrugged and you gave him an unamused stare. "Maybe more than a 'hi', I wanted to see you, talk to you," he paused, his eyes flickering. "You look great,"

"Huh?"

Jake coughed, his gaze sweeping over your body to your face. "You look amazing, seriously,"

A small laugh of amusement escaped your lips. "Thank you, you look … great as well. I love what you did to your hair,"

His hands flew to his blond strands, smiling sweetly. "I'm glad you like it, it's a bold change,"

"It is," you nodded, a sudden silence settled between you and Jake, the awkwardness you feared was somehow present.

"I miss you," those three words poured out of Jake's lips without any warning.

You could feel your heart twist and jump, his words settled heavily in your mind. "I miss you too, Jake,"

"I'm sorry," he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry for the times where I … I let go too easily. It wasn't easy being in a new country and I guess I let it get to my head, and I ended up throwing you aside too much. I should've been there for your 21st just as you did for mine,"

You didn't expect a direct confrontation today, maybe a small reconciliation but that was all, not a full blown apology.

"It's alright," closure was what you needed … right? "I didn't try to fix the gap between us then too, so … it wasn't entirely you," your hands were unconsciously fidgeting. "Now that you're here, maybe we can patch things up a little, what do you say?"

"I'd love to," Jake smiled, a wave of relief seemed to have washed over you two, the awkwardness and frigidity faded away and it was you and him again, just like always. "I haven't toured Barcelona at all ever since I got here. Would you have the honour to be my tour guide?"

"I'm not the best at it but I'll try," you laughed. "My Spanish is still in the works,"

"I need a head start too," Jake noted thoughtfully. "I got to change and freshen up. I'm sure you're tired too and you're dying to get home so I won't bother you further,"

"It's fine, I'll always have time for you," you reassured, unbeknownst to you his eyes lighting up at your words. "I'll give you a call or a text. Maybe we can arrange that tour soon,"

"Sweet. I'll wait for it,"

"You better."

jakey: free tomorrow?

you: i am :)

jakey: great! let’s have that tour tomorrow?

you: i’m down

“GOING OUT?”

You turned around, face-to-face with Alexia who had her typical questioning stare whenever something wasn’t right. It was early, quite unusual for you since you were always the late riser out of all three, but you had plans … with somebody.

You nodded sheepishly.

“With who?”

“Jake,”

“Oh?” Alexia grinned, gradually getting invested. “He finally had the balls to ask you out?”

“It’s not like that,” you waved her off. “I’m just bringing him around the city. He texted me yesterday,”

“Is he taking you back to his after?”

“Alexia!” you gasped, a hand on your chest for more dramatics.

“Kidding,” she chuckled, and finished fixing up her breakfast. “Be careful and if anything happens, God forbid, call me. If he’s a jerk, call me and I’ll pick you up,”

“I will … thank you,” you smiled warmly.

“No need to be, Nat and I will be here for you always.”

Jake was waiting right below your apartment complex, you were secretly jumping inside, taking bigger steps to get closer quickly. You didn’t realise how much you’ve missed him until now. He probably heard your oncoming footsteps, turned around and broke into his signature sweet smile. Jake surely knew how to swoon one over with his fashion, didn’t he? He was dressed in a casual loose white button up paired with straight jeans, making sure to have the first few buttons undone for some extra effect.

“Morning,” he pulled you into a short hug, his cologne entered your senses, the same cologne he had been wearing since forever. His gaze averted south, a familiar necklace was hanging around your neck, the moon pendant shining brightly under the sun. "You kept that?"

"Huh?" You followed his stare, glancing down to where your necklace sat, the one Jake had given you before your departure. "What? Of course I do," your hand absentmindedly reached for it. "Your good luck charm gives me good luck too,"

A smile etched onto Jake's face, a pleasant look painted his expressions, seemingly content as he switched the topic and continued on.

“Had breakfast yet?” you shook your head. “Perfect. I’ve been dying to try this one spot nearby, let’s go,”

“We’re walking there?”

“Duh, walking is a must for tourist experience,”

“I’m lazy,” you whined, huffing.

“You’re a professional athlete, a little walking won’t hurt,”

“I’m sure me beating you up will,”

Jake let out an airy laugh, his hand on your back pushing you gently and you had no choice but to comply. It was a quiet walk over to the cafe he recommended, maybe it was still early, but you remained quiet and basked in the summer sun, your shoulders occasionally bumping along the way.

"So …" you started, sitting down on an empty spot at a table, doing your best at striking up a conversation. "Bayern, huh? I thought you couldn't picture yourself in Germany,"

Jake shrugged, pursing his lips. "Had no other options, they were one of the big clubs and I just agreed," he shook his head, smiling a little. "People change, thoughts change, you know?"

"Right," you nodded.

"Only thing I hated about it there is how far away I was from you," he added, his gaze never leaving yours, but he eventually changed the topic, diffusing the tension in between. “Going to classes in a German college is hard though,”

“You’re still studying engineering?” you weren’t surprised at all, aside from Jake’s footballing abilities, he was a smart guy, one who loved science and was a little nerdy.

“I am,” he nodded with a small smile. “I think I’m going to the same college as you, right?”

“No way? I think you are,” you were a skilled hider at this point, not even bumping into him on campus was either great luck or just ill fate. “It’s hard holding up here, I might've been here a few years but everything’s still new. How are you even holding up with school here?”

Jake shrugged plainly, a nonchalant look on his face. “Had ups and downs but I don’t think I’ll give up easily. You seem to be doing fine so I think I’ll be equally fine here too … hopefully,”

“Nothing’s going to be too big of a challenge for a smart guy like you,” you teased, Jake rolling his eyes in response.

"Anyway, what's Barcelona like for you? I've seen the things you've done so far and honestly, I'm not surprised at how good you are," Jake took a sip out of his drink. "I mean, you always are, always have been,"

You bite back the surprise, especially the words you wanted to say. "Thank you," you said slowly, "I saw your break out at Bayern too, and your first game here, you've improved a lot, you're too good,"

"Learn from the best," he nodded at you and you rolled your eyes at him.

“You're still such a jokester,”

“Of course I am,” Jake raised his eyebrows, biting his lips as he pondered whether to ask the question lingering in his mind. Fuck it. “Any admirers here in Barcelona?”

It was your turn to raise your eyebrows, surprised at his up-frontness. Oh, now he’s suddenly interested in this part of your life? “I don't, unless you count the training ground as one,”

He laughed, shoulders visibly relaxing gradually. It was your turn to strike. “What about you? I definitely saw videos of you partying somewhere on Twitter before,” you didn’t mean it to sound a little jealousy laced when you said it, but the teeniest tiny bit of it was genuine, yet you wouldn’t admit it to yourself.

“Seriously? Twitter? I was there hanging out with my friends, no funny business with girls by the way,” he shrugged and narrowed his gaze at your obvious teasing grin. “Currently single and available,”

“Really? The same man who claimed he has charms out of the world is still single all these years?”

“Hey, I could be waiting for someone else, or at least work up the courage to even bag them,” he defended,

“Who?” you leaned in close, anticipating for some juicy intel, a sip of hot tea, anything.

Jake smirked, his typical playful one that you were no stranger to. He wasn’t going to spill, was he? “They know … I hope,”

His gaze burned into yours, the vague answer only spurred you on further. Could it be a random girl on campus? A girl he met while partying? Could it be … you? Wake up, gosh, there’s no way your childhood best friend liked you too, right? You have yet to tell anyone or even admit it out loud that you somewhat liked Jake, the feelings you had from years ago, back before you left, continued burning internally, getting fainter and fainter each passing year, but it reignited gradually now that he was here.

Soon, the morning melted into reminiscing of the past and sharing different stories that you both missed of each other. Walking around under the clear sky, you brought him around the city, to the famous landmarks, markets, and attractions. It was a blast, especially after years of not seeing one another face to face.

The sun eventually set and night came, the city coming to life at once. You and Jake somehow wound up at a beachside restaurant, enjoying a fancy meal before running towards the sandy beach, playing around just like the times you were kids, until you got too worn out and laid among the sands.

"I missed this," you panted, head turning over to see a heaving Jake who could only hum out in response.

"Us, running around, it was a long time since we've done this together," you waited for a beat, then continued. "I missed us, Jake,"

Jake looked over, locking eyes with you. "I'm here now, aren't I?" He chuckled, his hands reaching over to grasp yours.

You were glad he was back in your life again, but it was evident that something had changed, and it wasn't going to be the same as always.

YOU FOUND YOURSELF BACK AT THE STADIUM ON ONE OF THE men's league games, personally invited by Jake as he somehow managed to convince you to come.

Ever since that day out in the city, you felt something spark between you and him, he was texting you frequently, exchanging stories and what not. You were glad that your friendship was rekindling, but the watered down feelings from over the years seemed to return, growing stronger gradually, which meant you were inevitably troubled.

"Y/N!" you didn't expect Jake to go out of his way before the game to show up at the lounge area, greeting you enthusiastically.

"Jake," you exchanged a hug and some 'how are you's. "Nervous?"

"You always know I am. Just a little less with you here, just like the old days,"

"You're going to do good," you assured.

"Not going to let you down," he saluted you, before catching the clock ticking and the game nearing. With a haste goodbye, he left and you made your way towards the stands.

The game started off strongly, and Jake definitely stuck to his words, making his first start for the team and already performing astoundingly. His footwork, the way he passed through defenders, you were amazed every time you watched him play.

Barcelona had the advantage by leading first, but as the game passed, the opponent team somehow gained the momentum and scored a goal before half time, which deflated the home fans.

Once the second half started, Barcelona was looking for a breakthrough, anything, seemingly desperate and increasingly frustrated. That was until a perfect pass to Jake where magic actually happened. A swift turn and a sharp kick were enough for Jake to score a beautiful goal into the net and the stadium erupted into cheers.

Your gaze was trained on Jake, standing up now as you joined supporters in cheering along. But what shocked you was what he did next. He was running the lengths of the field as usual footballers do in celebration, but his hands formed the initial of your name, showing the letter obviously and it was no doubt that he was dedicating this to you. At the same time, his eyes were searching for somebody, you.

Once you met his gaze from above, he broke into a wide smile, blowing you a kiss before letting his teammates engulf him into hugs.

Everything melted into a blur. Did Jake Sim just dedicated his first goal and a celebration to you? He did, in front of thousands.

The game ended with a win. Jake, who had scored the winner, was getting cheers from fans all over. You were quick to exit the stands, making your way to the tunnel until you noticed Jake's approaching figure.

"Y/N!"

Just as always, he happily called your name, a smile so wide it had your knees weak. He was about to give you a hug before you backed away.

"You're sweaty,"

He pouted, resembling a sad puppy. "Don't be mean,"

"I'm not," you exclaimed, punching his shoulder lightheartedly. "You were so great, congrats on your first goal,"

"Thank you," he bowed his head pleasantly. "You're always my good luck charm, huh? Come to my games often,"

"As if," you huffed, but not completely opposed to it. Then, you got to the real deal. "Hey, what was that celebration for anyway?"

Jake simply shrugged, a knowing smirk on his face that told you he, in fact, meant something behind the celebration.

"What does that mean?"

"It's for you to figure out," he said vaguely, something sparked in his gaze. "Anyway, did you know this guy on campus is throwing a party? Wanna come?"

"You're going?" You did hear of this party from one of your school mates, apparently that guy was a king at throwing parties and nobody misses it.

"Yeah, one of my friends invited me so I wondered if you're coming too. Are you?"

"I think so?" You said with uncertainty.

"I can pick you up if you want to?"

"I'd love that,"

"Sweet," Jake nodded, clapping his hand. "Is this a date—"

"Would you count this as a date—"

Both of you froze, realising you were sharing the same thoughts, and most likely the same feelings. A sense of pining filled the air between you two that you were oblivious to. You and Jake bursted out laughing at the silly occurrence.

"Maybe," you were the first to answer the question, a little shy.

"I would love to bring you out on a proper date though,"

"What about … some time after the party?"

"I'll be glad to do so," Jake scratched the back of his neck, a red tinge coloured the tip of his ears. "So—uhm—this party date—more than friends or…?"

"Woah, maybe that's a big jump there," you didn't expect him to suddenly be so bold. "How about we take this one step at a time? Test the waters and what not,"

"Good idea," he smiled before hearing his teammates calling for him from afar. "Shit, I think I need to go freshen up,"

"It's alright, you've had a long day anyway, you should get some rest,"

"I will, I'll take a long, hot shower while I'm at it,"

"You should," you giggled, a small grin tugged at your lips at how endearing he was. "I'll go now, text me and we'll discuss the plans for the party, okay? You were amazing, Jake, I love seeing you play," you leaned over to press a kiss on his cheek, rendering him speechless.

"Bye," you said innocently, waving at him as you left and all he did was stare back with a dazed look while waving.

You chuckled a little. Despite the slight glitch in the relationship, somehow you managed to get back to him. All it took for the watered down feelings was a little push from him and yourself.

"YOU'RE ON TIME,"

Evening soon arrived and it was finally time for the party. You were dressed casually and you didn't regret any part of it. Jake had opened the door for you, quirking his eyebrow at your words as he leaned against his car.

"I'm always on time,"

"Sure," you said sarcastically as you entered the car, adjusting around in your seat.

The moment Jake got into the car and revved it to a start, he switched the radio on, and a specific song started playing. Your favourite song.

"This song?" You exclaimed, a small joy erupted in you.

"It's your favourite," Jake hummed, smiling slightly.

"You remembered?"

“How could I not?”

Those simple words somehow had a big effect on you, after all those years he still remembered the small things about you, not many were able to do that.

The rest of the journey there was just casual chatter, flowing naturally like how it usually did when you were younger. You talked about your favourite things while Jake just listened, giving you his full attention and you were completely unaware of him smiling at your passionate rants.

Upon arriving at some house in a rich neighbourhood, you were already fascinated by the big yard space where a couple people were smoking. You heard the music blasting from inside the house and shared a look with Jake that totally conveyed 'let's get drunk'. He opened the door for you and the led lights blinded your sight momentarily.

Jake was immediately bombarded by a bunch of people, his reputation had skyrocketed overtime with his performance at the club, making him a well known person at the campus by now. Well, wasn't this awkward? You were squeezed to a side, unable to reach your date and standing alone, so all you could do was nod towards the drinks to let him know you would be there.

Filling your cup with some random alcoholic concoction sadly wasn't what you anticipated for tonight. As time passed, Jake was nowhere to be seen, having to send him million texts but getting no response from him. You managed to locate your friends and joined them for the rest of the night.

"I thought you came here with Jake?" One of your friends, Carla, asked, passing you some snacks.

"I did," you shoved the snack into your mouth rather aggressively. "He disappeared on me,"

"That's such a dick move!" She made a sour face, and honestly, you had to agree with her.

You soon excused yourself from your friends, exploring around the house to find a bathroom that wasn't locked or occupied, which was a big challenge. Going up and down stairs, in and out of rooms had you desperate, so once you saw a bathroom door left ajar, you did the stupidest thing by opening it.

Stupid it was, foolish you were.

The sight before you probably had you wanting to vomit out your breakfast, lunch and dinner. It was Jake, but he wasn't alone, he was with another girl, pressed against each other, making out. At least they weren't doing more that would possibly traumatise you further … right?

"Y/N?"

You snapped out of your dazed state once you heard your name. Suddenly your need to use the bathroom had disappeared and you just wanted to leave.

"I—uh—ignore me!"

You turned around and bolted faster than your normal running speed in training. As you walked, you tried collecting yourself emotionally and mentally. You shouldn't be feeling this, whatever this sickening and punching feeling was, but you were.

How could this turn sour so fast?

He was just talking about trying to move your relationship from just friends to more than that, but instead, he's here making out with some girl in a bathroom? The audacity.

"Y/N! Where are you going?"

Unbeknownst to you, he was actually following you this whole time. Almost like a switch, your confused emotions turned into frustration.

"Jake, stop,"

He reeked of alcohol, words slurring and eyes dazed, confused. Your eyes met his gaze, sighing deeply and wishing for the night to be over already.

"What—"

"I'm leaving, okay? I didn't come here for you to ditch me and make out with some chick you just met, alright?"

"I'm sorry," Jake mumbled, biting his lips. "I'll take you home,"

"You're drunk, Jake," you said, crossing your arms. "I'll drive,"

The tension in the car was heavily off. You were driving back to his apartment, having no choice but to make yourself a guest there overnight since it was too late into the night for any cabs to drive you back. Just great.

"I didn't mean to kiss her. I was just drunk," he suddenly spoke from the backseat, his words heavy and slurred.

"Why are you telling me this?"

"I thought you should know. I hate misunderstandings,"

"We're not dating anyway, Jake, you don't need to explain it to me," your words came out harsher than expected, but wasn't reality harsh anyway?

"I am serious about you, Y/N,"

You blinked, muttering a few curses under your breath. Why was he so confusing? "You're drunk," you repeated, your grip on the steering wheel only tightened. "Think about this tomorrow instead, okay?"

Jake mumbled something incoherent before drifting off to sleep, leaving you to your own thoughts that continuously pestered you. Feelings were confusing, especially when it comes to your childhood best friend.

Getting him up to his apartment with the help of the security guard was strenuous work. He owed you more than an apology at this rate. Dumping him into bed and helping him out of his shoes almost had your back cracked in half, eventually you ended up falling into the couch and fell asleep at once. The physical work and emotional confusion were tiring.

Morning came sooner than expected, twisting and turning around, not wanting to get up, but realisation soon hit when you came to your senses. It wasn't the couch you're sleeping on anymore, it was a bed, Jake's bed.

Your eyes snapped open, feeling the soft sheets around you, but no one was there. Where was he?

You carefully stepped out of bed, wandered out into his living room that you were previously sleeping in and saw his figure on the couch, watching some television program. Messy bed hair and a coffee in hand, Jake somehow seemed magically cured from the curse of being hungover.

"You're awake?"

"I should be more surprised that you're awake instead," you sat down next to him, making sure to leave a gap in between.

"There's coffee, help yourself," he nodded over at the other cup of coffee he bought. "What happened last night?"

You glanced over at him, furrowed eyebrows mirroring the frustration in his eyes. "You don't remember?"

"No," he shook his head, rubbing his temples. "I got whisked away by this group of guys, I drank and drank, then I remembered some girl?"

"Oh,"

"What does that look on your face mean?"

"Jake, you made out with that girl,"

"What—"

"And I walked in on you two,"

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Jake rubbed his face callously, groaning deeply, head falling back onto the headrest. "I'm so sorry you had to see that,"

"It's fine,"

"It isn't fine. I kissed someone in front of you when I literally told you I wanted to bring you out on a date before," he buried his face into his hands. "I'm so stupid for this,"

"Hey, it's really fine, genuinely" you grabbed his hands, pulling them away. "I'm not mad—" admittedly, you were slightly hurt, "—honestly, it's not like we're actually together, right? We're not dating anyway, you're free to be with whoever you want. I have no control over you," you tried forcing out a small laugh to lessen the tension, but you only felt like dying instead.

"Right," Jake said, mirroring your laughter stiffly, his gaze falling to the ground. "We're not dating anyway."

"YOU WHAT?"

Training has been torturous. The new season was starting in the next few days, which meant the intensity only got higher, at the same time, your stress was equally skyrocketing. It was a few days since the incident with Jake and unfortunately, you haven’t spoken since. Anxiety gnawed at you, but neither you nor him dared to even make the first move of approaching one another.

Training sessions weren't what it was without some gossip and storytelling either, and you certainly didn't leave out what happened with Jake.

"You slept over at his place after you saw him kiss another girl?" Alexia gasped, smacking your arm.

"That's hella scandalous," Natalia hissed as she did her stretching routine.

"I said ‘we're not dating anyway’, could you believe that?" You huffed, unable to focus on your own routine.

"Wow," both of your teammates said in unison, and that only made you shrink further into your small hole of wallow.

"Was it too far?"

"I admit I do feel bad for the man having to hear that," Alexia shrugged.

"But he did do what he did," Natalia continued, a slight frown etched on her face.

“We haven’t talked since,” you stopped stretching, sitting with a saddened expression. “Do you think he hates me?”

“Hate you?” Alexia exclaimed incredulously, staring at you as if you’ve done some massive crime. “Y/N, that man likes you! Neither you nor him can see that, you guys are dumbasses,”

“He likes me?”

“Who dedicates their first goal to someone they hate? He likes you, period. There’s no way he dedicated a goal and a celebration meaninglessly,”

“Well…maybe he did it as an express of gratitude, you know, as friends,”

“God, you’re so blind.”

The short span of time in between the days from the first league game passed by quickly, fast forwarding to you sitting in the changing rooms, anxiously waiting for the game to start while you checked your phone for notifications. A fraction of you hoped for Jake to send a surprise message, at least giving some support for your first game of the season, but it just never came.

Disappointed you were indeed, but you weren’t letting it get to you and affect your performance, which only meant keeping on a brave face for the rest of the day. As you walked onto the pitch, your eyes automatically scanned the stands, spotting some of your friends from campus among the crowd. You waved at them, your anxiety lessening but somehow a specific someone stayed lingering in the back of your mind.

The whistle blew and off you went chasing after the ball for hopes of a goal. Everything was flowing smoothly, leading early in the first half and you were able to cool some steam off momentarily, glancing around once more. That’s when you noticed a figure in the front of the stands moving towards a seat. That person was oddly familiar, having to squint your eyes and run a little closer, you realised it was Jake.

You know those cliche moments described in romantic films where time stops and your breath stops? You didn’t believe those descriptions initially, until you actually experienced it firsthand. Right at that moment.

You didn’t have many chances of focusing on him, constantly needing to remind yourself that you were in the middle of a game and you weren’t letting a man deter you from the victory in front of you. He resembled a bright sun that stood out among the crowd, shining brightly but instead of looking away, you couldn’t bear but to stare.

The game ended in Barcelona’s favour, resulting in a great and high atmosphere, fans cheering loudly and everyone celebrating the first win of the season. All of your teammates made sure to go around the pitch to interact with fans and thank them, just post game basics. You did the same, except you couldn’t resist walking up to Jake’s side of the stand, spotting him at once and he happened to see your figure approaching, waving at you with a small smile.

“Hey!” you shouted, almost breathlessly, a wide smile unknowing creeping onto your face. “You came,”

His eyes sparked once it landed on you. “Surprise?”

“You didn’t tell me you’re coming today,”

Jake leaned on the barriers separating you two, his playful grin reciprocating your smile. “It’s a surprise for a reason,”

“Well, I am definitely surprised,”

Jake let out a quiet laugh, biting on his bottom lip, seemingly contemplating his next words carefully. “You played great today, congrats on the win,”

“Thank you,”

“You’ve always been amazing, Y/N, seeing you play for the first time in Barcelona made me so proud,”

Your heart swelled, hearing his words only made you go increasingly crazy. He can’t just show up, say the most simple sentences and make your feelings haywired! Then it hit you, realisation.

“I wouldn’t be here without you,”

“Likewise,”

“I’m really grateful for you, Y/N, genuinely,”

“Oh, Jake,” you reached over the barrier, tip toeing slightly and pulled the man before you into a hug, feeling him press a kiss on the side of your head. Were you really only friends with him?

Realisation. A full, concrete, affirmative realisation.

You like him. Sim Jae Yun.

jakey: up for a party?

you: you’re looking to get drunk again?

jakey: no! >:( my friend’s from our old uni are coming over to visit and celebrate one of their birthdays! i’m pretty sure you’ve met them before

you: the hockey players? and yunjin? them right?

jakey: yup

you: count me in

SOMEHOW YOU’VE MANAGED YOURSELF AN INVITE AS JAKE'S PLUS ONE.

You’ve met Jake’s friends before back in your hometown. He had a variety of friends from the football team who happened to be jocks, and then there’s the hockey friends. Jake was closer to the hockey bunch, and you didn’t blame him for that, especially after having your own experiences with his then team.

So, here you were, in Jake’s car, heading towards the club specially booked by Jake’s rich friend, Jay. Why a club? Apparently they liked partying. The hockey players were truly built differently.

“You’re saying he booked the expensive room?” you blinked in shock, mouth hanging open. “Private rooms?”

“Yeah, he said he loves Barcelona and the clubs here, so he’s going all out,” Jake said nonchalantly, as if this was a daily occurrence that wasn’t surprising in any way.

“Can you give me his numb—”

“Absolutely not.”

The club was just like any other big club in the city. Flashing lights, pretty people and over the top atmosphere, it was such a great vibe. You wished you had more chances of partying but frankly, none of your friends were big party goers, you included.

Jake made sure to have you in front of him, his hand on your back guiding you slowly through the crowd towards the private room. He had given you a brief introduction of his friends to you previously during the drive here. You knew how his friends looked, being able to match faces to their names, but there was nothing you knew beyond that.

Entering a room filled with people you're not close with makes your skin crawl, but Jake's friends proved otherwise, welcoming you at first glance. The hockey guys, Jay, Heeseung and Sunghoon along with Yunjin were there with their own plus ones. Every one of them were split into their own small groups, but you stuck to Jake, speaking to Yunjin and her date.

Jake was focused on whatever topic Yunjin's date was spewing, so Yunjin had you all to herself. "You and Jake?" She whispered quietly, so that it was only between you and her. Her eyebrows wavered, a knowing grin plastered on.

You simply shrugged, not trying to be lowkey but in actuality, you really didn't know. "Nothing's official,"

"Yet?"

"I don't know?"

"He hasn't asked you out on a date?" Yunjin gasped, eyes widened.

"Nope, unless you count some random frat party where he left me hanging,"

"Oh God," she heaved a deep breath. "He's got a lot to do, but other than that, I'm pretty sure it's already settled,"

Your head tilted at her choice of words. "What do you mean settled?"

"He likes you, you like him! That's already settled,"

"What?"

"Y/N! Can't you tell how head over heels that boy is? You know he wouldn't shut up about you all these years, right? Even when you two were apart,"

"When we were apart?"

Yunjin chuckled, unable to hold back her smile of endearment. "He always told us about you, how he wants us to meet you and all that. When he went to Germany, we kept in contact, even visited him. I remembered clearly how he said he missed you, he wouldn't shut up about you, I'm serious,"

All those times you thought he had forgotten about you or not even given you a single thought, it was actually the opposite. As much as you have kept him in your thoughts, he has equally been doing the same.

"Give it a thought, Y/N, give him a thought," Yunjin patted your shoulder, giving you a smile of assurance.

Everyone eventually left the room in search of the bar and dance floor, you and Jake following behind. Along the way, he continued keeping his hand around you, not letting you go.

"You okay?" He passed you your drink, his eyes searching for yours in the dim lights.

"I'm alright, don't worry," you gave his arm a small squeeze of reassurance.

Most of the guys and Yunjin had already taken off into the dancefloor with their partners, leaving you and Jake by the bar alone. Yunjin's words from earlier still rang freshly in your mind, it was all you could think of whenever you stole glances of Jake.

"What are you thinking about?" He seemed to have caught on your strange behaviour and you resembled a deer caught in headlights at the sudden confrontation.

"Nothing," you shook your head, lying through your teeth. You were thinking about something, someone actually. Him.

"Really?"

"Really," you enunciated, thinking of a way to switch the topics. "So, why aren't you out there dancing?"

"I wanted to be here with you,"

That got you there. His words never failed to have you kicking your feet and giggling.

"You could be out there—I don't know—dancing with someone else,"

"I'd choose you over that 'someone else'," he calmly took a sip out of his drink, his gaze never leaving yours. "In a heartbeat,"

You swore you could feel yourself flushing red, heat creeping up your neck to your face, the room suddenly seemed like it was spinning. "You can't just say things like that,"

Jake grinned, a playful look displayed on that charming face of his. "What? It's the truth!"

“You’re annoying” you jokingly punched his shoulder, downing your drink almost at once, it surely did help calm your nerves, but not your racing heart.

Your conversation with Jake soon dissolved when the others came back from the dance floor, all sweaty and craving for drinks, huddled around the bar ordering one by one before returning back to the room for a karaoke session. The overwhelming atmosphere had you excusing yourself to the restrooms, and you ended up giving a pep talk into the mirror as you fixed your makeup.

Jake liked you? The fact itself was hard to grasp. You couldn’t even swallow and accept that you had actual feelings for him, your childhood best friend, the one you experienced many embarrassing, happy and sad moments with, the same guy who believed in you more than anyone else. He wasn’t just a friend to you anymore, he was someone you wished for more with.

Exiting the restroom with a heavy heart and question marks filled mind, you just needed a drink to pour your feelings into. You were making your way back to the room with a drink in hand now that everyone was done dancing, but before you could turn a corner, you heard voices and immediately stopped in your tracks. Hushed whispers that were clear and audible even with the music in the background filled the empty corridor. It didn’t take long to piece the voices of Jake and Heeseung.

“So…what’s going on between you and Y/N?”

Your eyebrows quirked up at the mention of your name. Could this be it? Was Jake going to spill an answer you’ve been dying for? Let’s make this clear, you didn’t like overhearing other people’s business, but your current situation was a little hard for you to just walk boldly into the corridor, not when your curiosity got the best of you.

“What do you mean?”

“What? You and Y/N, man, come on. There’s no way you don’t have feelings for her. You’ve been together since the time we met years back, and even further before we met, and you’ve never stopped talking about her, ever,”

“I–I don’t know, it’s complicated. We’re just friends,”

“Jake, are you serious?”

“I’ve never felt this way before, Hee,” Jake’s voice wavered, seemingly distressed. “I can’t have a relationship now, I’m just starting out and I don’t want to get distracted,”

“Jake, are you listening to yourself? Since when was Y/N a distraction to you? And you didn’t seem to care whenever you went out partying in Germany,”

“Look, Hee, maybe I just want to focus on my career for now,”

“Is that why you barely made the effort to talk to Y/N back in Germany?” Heeseung hissed, frustration evident in his tone. “Your lame excuses, were you just scared or in denial of your feelings?”

“Stop. I don't know if I like her like that. Fuck, I–I don't know, okay?”

“Y/N?” you whipped your head around, meeting the brown irises of Park Sunghoon, who was just returning from the restrooms as well. Perfect timing indeed. You were so busted.

Internally, you were panicking like crazy, heart beating in anxiety and your blood pumping insanely. You could feel three pairs of eyes staring at you, each one held different emotions. Heeseung and Jake stood frozen in their spots, their faces matching each other’s surprise, whereas Sunghoon remained confused.

You met Jake’s gaze, one filled with utmost guilt and sadness, but yours could only reflect anger and bewilderment. You didn’t bother waiting another second before storming away, only feeling suffocated by each of Jake’s words that stung just like a fresh wound. This was another night ruined by the man you liked, and you’re about to go home with a new broken heart. But you were the idiot here after all, willingly letting him break your heart in two, and once it healed, it’d beat for him again, because you would always go back to him.

The moment you reached the outside of the club, you realised how fucked you were without a ride, having no choice but to wake your roommate to pick you up. You wondered how you landed yourself in this position, standing stranded in front of a club, blinking away the oncoming tears and just needing a hug of comfort.

“Y/N!”

Jake’s voice reached your ears, and soon, you were face to face with him. Wow, speaking of deja vu, this only reminded you of the unfortunate night you had with him, both ending sour.

“I have nothing to say to you, Jake,”

“Hear me out—”

“Fuck off,”

“Please,”

You scoffed in disbelief. “You're really confusing, you know? One second you say some shit that gets my hopes up and my heart racing, then the next second you decide to crush everything! Make up your mind. I'm not someone for you to play around,”

“I’m not trying to play you!”

“Oh right? You said you wanted to start slow and bring me out on a proper date, then you're out here declaring you don't like me. Well, asshole, I like you!"

"What?"

You cursed at yourself and your bluntness, blinking harshly as you swallowed the lump building in your throat. "Forget it, forget whatever I said,"

“I do have feelings for you too, you know that!”

"No, no, no, you don't get to suddenly decide that, Jake, not after what you just said," you backed away from him, shaking your head incredulously. Hell, you were confused about your feelings, but Jake was miles worse. “You need to sort yourself out first before telling me you like me or not, you can’t just say that and then say you don’t know behind my back,”

“I know, God, I’m sorry,” he was a mess, a beautiful mess in creation.

Silence befall on you both, the tension was killing you and you hated it. You didn’t want him to be a stranger, but you can’t bear being around him right now. Your eyes could only reflect disappointment and sadness as your gaze swept his face.

“You once said I changed, but you know what, Jake? Maybe it's you who's changed,” you spat every word out angrily, a mix of emotions overflowing. “I feel dumb for liking you,”

“Really? Do you regret it?” somehow, the two of you were equally mad now, the sadness turned into unresolved anger, showing the ugly side that neither you nor him have seen of each other before.

You swallowed, knowing damn well the answer that was going to leave your lips. “The worst part is that I don’t,”

Jake’s lips quivered, his eyes searching for anything but yours, unable to meet your eyes or even directly face you. “It has always been you. You’ve always been my number one,”

His words stung hard, harder than the times you’ve scraped your knees against hard surfaces, it hurt you, just as much as it did to him just from uttering those sentences. If this was what love was supposed to be like, you want nothing about it.

“Go home, Jake. I'll see you soon.”

CRYING ON THE WAY HOME IN ALEXIA'S CAR WASN'T A PERFECT end to the supposed enjoyable night you wished to have. It took five different rom coms, one tub of ice cream and lots of girls talk to get you out of your slump.

During the first few days since the incident, you did receive text messages from Jake, apologetic ones that were almost written like essays. But you couldn't bring a single ounce of you to reply back to him, leaving him on ‘delivered’ and switching your phone off.

Just when you thought the storm had calmed, you were proven wrong once more.

"You've got to see this,"

On a morning not far from a prestigious award ceremony you were bound to attend in France, a controversy broke out, one that involved you in it, specifically, you and Jake.

'BARCELONA'S YOUNG STARS CAUGHT IN A HEATED FIGHT OUTSIDE OF NIGHTCLUB IN THE CITY'

You've got to be kidding.

The comments were the first thing you avoided, scrolling past to see blurred pictures taken of your altercation with Jake. Talk about double embarrassment.

"No way they got this on camera," Natalia gasped, but Alexia snatched the phone from her grasp and switched it off.

"It'll pass, don't worry, Y/N."

Eventually, the day of the awards ceremony had arrived, you and your fellow nominees from Barcelona, Jake included, travelled to France together on a private plane.

It was awkward to say the least. Avoiding one another, not making eye contact or even acknowledging each other's presence. The others were making sure to seem unfazed by this despite reading the news themselves, but what could they do? All they wanted was calm and serenity.

You were partnered up with a player from the men's team, Alejandro, who will be your date for the night. You didn't mind having him as your date, just wishing to get the whole thing done as soon as you could.

"You're not planning to talk it out with him?" Alexia said as she helped fix your makeup, dresses laid on the bed and heels strewn all over the floor.

"What do I even say? 'Oh, I like you, yeah I said that already. But you don't like me—wait—you don't know!' Boohoo,"

"Y/N,"

You let out a deep sigh, getting up once Alexia finished her last touch ups. "Look, his confusion isn't something for me to deal with, you know. Either he makes up his mind and is ready for me, or he'll just never get me, that's it."

On the other side of the hotel room and specifically the floor below yours, presented the men's rooms. Jake happened to be getting ready along with his teammate and roommate, Mateo.

They were on the conversation of their assigned dates when Mateo's mind suddenly struck a thought. He didn't know if it was the right time to ask, but his mouth couldn't help slipping.

“Jake,”

“Yeah?”

“Are you going to apologise?”

Mateo didn't even need to mention any names and Jake already knew what he meant.

“Why?”

“I just—I don't know—I don't like how you guys are fighting,”

“You're sweet, Mat, but she's probably too angry to even see me now anyway, I fucked up big time,”

“But do you want to apologise?”

“Of course I do! That's a no brainer. I just don't wish to fuck it up again,”

“You won't,” Mateo patted Jake’s shoulder sympathetically, both plopping down on the edge of the bed. “You like her, don’t you?”

“Well—”

“Not in a platonic way, but in a romantic way,”

“I do,” almost instantly, those words left his lips without any hesitation.

“Then what’s stopping you?”

“Myself,” he groaned, rubbing the side of his face agonisingly. “I’m scared, Mat, I’m scared of ruining what we have,”

“Jake, you shouldn’t let your fears overcome you, or stop you from professing your love either,” Mateo sighed, wrapping his arm around the latter’s shoulder. “Y/N likes you, dumbass, there’s nothing to ruin. Instead, she’s probably thinking you hate her for not giving her a clear green light,”

“I know,”

“Talk to her. Maybe not tonight or tomorrow, but soon. The longer you drag this on, it would just create a distance.”

The evening eventually faded into bright lights and speeches, you and the others sitting among the crowd of distinguished footballers from different parts of the world. You couldn’t lie, it was hard keeping your eyes away from Jake when he was looking absolutely gorgeous. Hair slicked back, dressed in a sleek black suit paired with an expensive tie, he had your knees weak when you were supposed to be mad.

His gaze on you definitely didn’t go unnoticed either, taking the sight of you in and your attire for the night, a certain unspoken longing for one another hung in the air.

It was towards the end of the night when you excused yourself to the restrooms, your usual escape plan. Exiting the theatre hall and getting to wander around the exquisite area gave you a slight peace of mind, it wasn’t everyday you got the chance to be in France anyway. But disaster just had to strike and ruin your brief tranquillity.

As you descended the stairs, you heard a snap, almost missing your balance, and you knew at once, your heel had taken an unfortunate turn of life. Glancing down at your heel, it indeed had snapped and was broken, and you had the misfortune of not having any super glue on you.

You tried taking a step, stupid mistake. The imbalance of your heels made you stumble, and just when you were ready to meet your fate of face planting into the expensive marble floors, a hand gripped your forearm.

“Hey, you okay?”

It didn’t take much for you to realise that voice belonged to Jake, who was also holding onto your arm. You coughed, regaining your balance and swiftly yanked your arm from his hold. Jake took a step back, slipping his hands into his pockets.

“I’m fine,” you said hastily, your head snapping up to meet his gaze. “Were you following me?”

“No!” he exclaimed, his hand travelling to the back of his neck, looking away from you. He was lying, you could see right through him. “Well—I—we saw you rushing out, so we just wanted to check up on you,”

“Right,” you nodded, biting your lips softly as you held in a small laugh at his blatant lie. “Tell the others I’m alright, I just wanted a stroll, but my heel broke,”

“Oh,” Jake’s gaze averted to the sight of your depressing heels. “I’ll let your manager know, I’m pretty sure they can get something else for you,”

“I’d really appreciate that,”

“Okay,” Jake smiled slightly, nodding also, his body turning to leave but halted midway. “I never got to tell you how beautiful you looked tonight,”

You practically stilled momentarily, letting his words work its magic on you. In that moment, it felt as if the world had stopped and everyone had disappeared, and it was just you two, alone and vulnerable. Soon, you snapped back to reality, swallowing thickly.

“Thank you, you look great too,”

He said nothing more, merely giving you one last friendly smile before turning away and continuing his way back to the theatre, leaving you to long for him, sadness welling up your heart and your eyes turned heavy. You wished he would run back to you now, telling you how sorry he was, whatever, you just needed him. But that wasn’t going to happen.

Cruel, hard reality reminded you that maybe this was probably one sided after all.

You were over exhausted by the time you returned back to the hotel, the group was now scattered and everyone was either on their own or lingering somewhere else at the afterparty. At that moment, the pop of notification on your phone caught your attention, it was a message from Natalia.

nat: meet me at my room! i have something for you ;)

Suspicions crept up internally, that winking emoji practically told you this wasn’t what it seemed. But you went either way, still dressed in your gown and sporting a pair of comfortable slippers, trudging along the halls of the hotel towards Natalia’s room.

Three knocks was all it took for you to realise the room was unlocked, pushing it open and revealing a clean and spotless room, which was so Natalia. As for a sign of any human being in the room, there was actually none. Initially, you thought of something bad happening, lowkey panicked and rang up Natalia, only to realise a particular thing. Natalia was at the after party.

“Hello?”

You whipped your head towards the source of the voice, freezing at once when you saw who it was. The universe must be setting you up for further embarrassment at this point. Jake was standing in front of you, confused and lost.

“Where’s Natalia?”

“I would want to ask the same question too,” you glanced around the room helplessly. “She isn’t here. Did she text you?”

“She did,”

“Jake,” you started, walking to the door, a sinking feeling inside of you as you hoped whatever you were currently thinking wasn’t actually true. “Did you shut the door?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you realise we’re stuck in here now? We don’t have the keycard,”

The confusion on Jake’s face morphed into shock and horror, approaching the door and giving it a yank, but it was obviously not working. “This is ridiculous,” he groaned under his breath.

“Forget it, it’s already done,” you kicked your slippers off and made yourself comfortable on the bed, your back connecting to the soft covers and almost drifting off to sleep.

Jake could only nod solemnly, sitting down on the other bed wordlessly. It didn’t take long for the uncomfortable silence to settle, both of you wanting to talk but having zero courage to even do so. You were hopeless and he was just the same.

"We should talk,"

You glanced over at his figure, slowly sitting up, a wary look painted your expressions. "About?"

"About us,"

You gulped, hating the thought of confrontations, but what you hated more was being a stranger with Jake. It pained you having to ignore him or pretend his existence wasn't there.

“What’s there to us? You broke my heart, Jake, and it hurts like a bitch. I heard you clearly in the club that night, and I don’t think I can forget it easily,” you sucked a breath in, being on the edge of combustion. “You know what? If the possibility of us being together is a distraction for you, then fine, forget I ever said I like you, then we can go on like nothing—”

“I don’t want to forget it,” he murmured, eyes flickering. “I don’t want to forget you or your words,”

A pause.

"I'm sorry," he said slowly. "I shouldn't have said what I said. I shouldn't have treated you like that, I was a massive asshole,"

"You were,"

"I'm really sorry, for hurting you and causing you so much pain," Jake was fidgeting with his fingers, averting his gaze once in a while. “What I said in the club was stupid, it was immature. I wasn’t clear with my feelings then and I could only figure shit out after, I'm just scared of ruining what we have. I don't want to lose you if anything goes south, I don't want to lose you as a friend and a lover,”

"Jake," you began, eyebrows furrowed as your bottled up confusion and frustration slowly crept up. "You won't, your fears are only driving us apart, can't you see that? I–I just don't get you. Do you even like me? Or do you just say you do but you actually don't?"

"I do like you," his tone came out harsh, as though he had been holding it in forever and only getting the bottled up feelings out now.

"Then show me," your eyes pleading and his apologetic. "Show me that you want me, that you actually do. No second guessing or anything. I need you to need me back,"

“I do need you,” he said quietly under his breath, the tension in the room was absolutely cut throat. “I’ll do anything to gain your trust back,” he got up from his spot and walked over to your side, sitting next to you, barely any space between you and him as your shoulders grazed against each other. “I could give you the world if I had to,”

You turned your head and met Jake’s eyes at once, the wordless exchange through one another’s gazes was enough to express the amount of longing and pining harboured. You could feel his fingertips softly brushed against yours, sending slight electric shock into your system.

“I like you. I like you. I like you,” those three words were poured out like a mantra, causing you to still momentarily, a frown etched onto your scrunched expressions. “I’ve liked you since forever, but I never came to terms with it. At one point, I wanted to tell you … but you moved away. I thought if I could do it all again, I would go back to you and tell you how I feel,”

“Those years when you were gone, I kept thinking about you, I wanted to hold you when I'm not supposed to, I wanted you close—I want you,"

Your breath hitched.

"I couldn’t get you out of my head, you were all I could ever think of, everywhere I went, anyone I met, I saw a part of you in them, you were occupying my head, I can’t stop, and it’s because of how in love I am with you,”

Love. Not like, but love.

“Then don’t stop,” you said breathlessly, chest heaving heavily. “Don’t stop thinking about me, don’t stop letting me take over your head, don’t stop being in love me, ‘cause I never did. I’ve always loved you,”

Longing and yearning clung onto you and Jake desperately. The space between you two was getting smaller, the need for one another pulling one another together. The outpour of love confessions had you and him both speechless for a while, taking some time to process it all entirely. You loved him, he loved you.

Jake shook his head, swallowing thickly. “I can’t believe it took me all these years to realise my true feelings, I’m sorry for realising it too late,”

“You’re never too late,”

Before any of you could get further progress, the door burst open and revealed a drunken Natalia being supported by her roommate. You and Jake instinctively scooted apart from each other, pretending nothing was happening as you faced a confused roommate and a giggly Natalia.

“What are you two doing here?”

“Natalia sent us text messages saying she wanted to meet us here, but she wasn’t and we got locked in,”

Her roommate, Chelsea, nodded, dumping Natalia onto the other bed. “She probably drunk texted you, sorry about that. Well, I need to take care of her so—”

“Oh,” you took the hint, standing up. “We’ll leave you to it. Goodnight,”

Jake followed you out awkwardly after bidding Chelsea goodbye. Once you were out of the room, you turned around and noticed Jake looking like a helpless puppy. “You’re going back?”

“Yeah, I need to freshen up,” he chuckled, smoothing the fronts of his suit.

“Me too,” gosh, the stiffness and awkward tension was eating you up. “Bye,”

“I’m serious about gaining your apology back, you know?”

You couldn’t even escape when those words suddenly poured out from Jake, catching you immensely off guard and having you rooted to your spot. “I’ll prove it to you, and I'll make it up to you,” he continued, backing away gradually with a knowing grin. “Goodnight!”

“Goodnight, Jake.”

You were incredibly unprepared for what he has up his sleeves.

“I KNOW YOU WERE THE ONE PLOTTING IT,”

Fun didn’t last long after arriving back from France as the team was put to immediate training sessions. A special training session this time at the club’s stadium. You and Jake didn’t speak much after that night in the hotel, especially when you went separate ways with individual training schedules now. But that wasn’t all. Your suspicions with Natalia remained and even though you’ve pestered her ages since then, she has never spilled anything, until this fateful session.

Her widened eyes stared at you, coughing uncomfortably as she masked obliviousness, but you could see through her instantly.

“Natalia,” you narrowed your gaze at the latter, who only shied away.

“I had that idea in mind…then I got drunk, and the alcohol controlled me to do stupid stuff like that,”

You rolled your eyes at her, passing the ball to her. “I’m not mad, by the way,”

“You’re not?”

“If I was, I would’ve been mad during the first few days, not now,”

“True,” Natalia shrugged, but you saw the playful spark in her gaze. “What did you do? Chelsea told me you two were … close,”

“We talked it out, nothing else,”

“Nothing else?”

“Nothing,” you repeated, your voice slightly higher than before.

The session was halted momentarily for some rest. Some were laying on the grassy surface, others scattered in groups either chatting or complaining about the hot weather. You were on the topic of dinner with your two roommates when the speakers suddenly made a shrill noise, causing everyone to flinch.

“What’s up with the audio?”

A cough was heard through the speakers in the next second, the sound reverberated through the stadium. Everyone including you were looking around in confusion, those on the ground resting had gotten to their feet. All of a sudden, a familiar song started to play, ‘Can’t Take My Eyes off You’, the same song you always played whenever Jake came over when you were kids.

“You're just too good to be true, can't take my eyes off of you. You'd be like heaven to touch, I wanna hold you so much…” The Australian accent was heavy and recognisable, which meant it could only be that certain someone running through your mind.

“Jake?” you muttered under your breath in disbelief, seeing his figure appearing amongst the stands, a microphone in hand. A soft smile unknowingly crept onto your face, laughing quietly at his ridiculous efforts.

It was just the same as the day he dedicated the goal to you. In a crowd full of people, his focus was trained only on you and nobody else, it was all you. His gaze never left your figure as the iconic instrumental part of the song played, and it reminded you of the days you sang this song in karaoke with Jake, screaming the lyrics and humming the instrumentals.

“I love you, baby, and if it's quite alright. I need you, baby, to warm the lonely night. I love you, baby, trust in me when I say—oh, pretty baby, don't bring me down, I pray,” he sang as he skipped down the steps of the stadium, getting closer to the front. Your teammates were passing you cheeky grins, some were even shoving you just like teenagers teasing their friends after seeing their crushes in the hallway. You yourself couldn’t even hold back a giddy look.

“Oh, pretty baby, now that I've found you, stay. And let me love you, baby, let me love you,” he extended his arm towards you, as if speaking these words just for you to hear. Before you could even accept his hand, your coach came right in time to stare at Jake, clearly unamused.

“Well, Mr Sim, what a performance that was,” Jonatan greeted Jake with a brief handshake. “Apologies for bursting your bubble but the training session is starting soon,”

Jake nodded, a pleased smile paraded on that face filled with confidence. “Got it. Sorry for interrupting. I’ll be leaving now then,” he peeked over your coach’s shoulder, waved and passed you one of his cheesy smiles before slipping away. When he was out of sight, Jonatan turned back and clapped his hands.

“Back to business!” he shouted, followed by loud unsatisfied grunts. Just as he was passing by, he made sure to whisper quietly and closely to you. “What a man you’ve got there, L/N.”

That totally had you blushing red.

It didn’t take long for training to end. You were about to text Jake about his whole stunt but then you realised you didn’t need to do so, because he was standing directly in front of you at the carpark.

“Need a ride?” You didn’t drive, usually carpooling with the girls back to the apartment, but this might have to be an exception.

Jake was leaning against his car, a grin stretched wide. You approached him with a curious gaze, eyebrow raised and arms crossed. “You’re still here?”

He nodded. “I thought I’ll just drop you home since I’m here anyway,”

“I’ll take your offer up,”

Jake even made the effort to open the car door open for you, putting his hand above your head as you entered. The little things did matter to you. But the real question you’ve been waiting for an answer remained, and you were going to shoot.

“What was all that for?”

“What?” he sputtered distractedly as the car started, soon exiting the car park. “The performance, you mean?” a devious smirk appeared on that scheming face of his. “Did you like it?”

“Well, yeah—but that’s so not the point,”

“That is definitely the point,”

“It isn’t!” you laughed, throwing your head back slightly, making contact with the headrest. “Seriously, Sim, why did you go all out for that? You could’ve been in trouble,”

“Remember the movie you loved when we were younger?”

“Which one? There’s too many,”

“That 2000s movie, something ten things something hate?”

“‘10 Things I Hate About You’!”

“Yeah, that. The one you forced me to watch for millions of times,”

“Did not,”

“You did,” Jake rolled his eyes, a small smile remained. “I remembered how much you loved that thing where he sang the song to her, and it happened to be our song, so I thought it would be a great way to apologise,”

“That’s sweet, Jake, really,”

“That’s not all,” He took a brief glance at you, letting the anticipation of his words sink in.“I’d like to take you out for dinner. I want to make it up to you,”

“You don’t have to,” your heart melted.

“I want to, seriously,” he said as he drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, his face beaming. “You told me to prove myself to you, and that’s what I’m doing. I want to take you out on dates and show you how much I mean every way I feel. I’ll wait for an answer for as long as I can even if it’s a lifetime,”

“Jake,” you called out his name quietly, placing a hand on his forearm. He carefully took hold of your hand, slithering his palm against yours and entangled your fingers together. “You want to take me out on dates?”

“I’m taking it slow. I don’t want to fuck up again,”

“You won’t, swear,” you reassured him, squeezing his hand gently.

“I’ll pick you up tonight? Go rest and have a shower first, you stink,”

“Hey! I did shower before this,”

“You mean you lightly rinsed yourself?”

“Guilty.”

It has been ages since you’ve felt nervous before something. Being nervous for matches was nonexistent at this point, but going on your first date in years was stressing you out. Not to mention, it was a date with Jake. You were feverishly placing clothes and dresses on the front of your body as you looked into the mirror, taking hundreds of tries before settling for a new unworn black dress.

You were glad to be just on time when you heard the sound of your notification, indicating Jake’s arrival below your apartment complex. The jitters were undeniable once you’ve reached the ground floor and walked towards the area he was at. The clicks of your heels against the hard floor gave your presence away and had Jake turning around, his eyes landing directly on you. His strong gaze took your figure in, his lips lazily pulled a playful smirk.

“Wow,”

“‘Wow’?” you chuckled, greeting him with a brief hug. He was dressed impressively well, nothing too much but not too minimal either.

“You are ‘wow’,” he raised his eyebrows. “You’re gorgeous, you know that?”

A tinge of pink painted both of your cheeks lightly. Oh, you were so definitely and undeniably blushing from the effect of his words again. Damn him.

“Save the flirting for later, Sim,”

“So, you’re saying I can flirt however much I want with you?”

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s go now or else we’ll miss reservations,” Jake loved your promptness, always and forever putting up with it, unable to resist a smile when he opened the car door for you, feeling the way his heart twists lovingly.

“Wait,” before he started the car, he reached to the backseat, reaching for something you couldn’t make out. That was until he pulled out a big bouquet of mixed flowers, one of every flower you loved. He remembered them all. “I got you flowers, and—” another bag of something, “—your favourite food and snacks. Some are from Germany, our hometown and even here,”

“No way, you got food from home?” you accepted his gifts way too enthusiastically. Your expressions lighting up immediately, legs shaking in anticipation as you went through the variety of snacks in the bag. All while it happened, Jake just remained silent, quietly watching you smile widely and eyes glinting brightly.

You looked up after a few moments, meeting his affectionate stare. “You’re staring!”

He shrugged, presenting you with a lopsided smile. “I love seeing you happy, sweets.”

You swore you almost fell onto the road when you saw how luxurious the place Jake had taken you to. The interior was exquisite and it had a nice ambience to it. A part of you was glad you had decided to dress up a little more than usual considering he had taken you to fine dining.

Throughout the entire journey there, you were sharing random stories with each other, bringing up old memories and even going on the topic of Jake’s dog. It all flowed naturally, just as how it always did, and that was something nobody else could take away from neither you nor Jake.

“Hi, ready to order?” the waitress soon came by, but you noticed something odd to her vibe. There it was, her lingering gaze on Jake. She likes him!

Never once had she spared you a single glance when you said your order, focusing only on Jake. Annoyance and irk weren’t enough to amount to the feelings you had in the moment, your mood sinking lower as you witnessed her attempting to flirt with him.

On the other hand, Jake was smart enough to catch onto the hint this time, actively avoiding her advances and rejecting her approaches, but it seemed she was the one who couldn’t take a hint. Just as you were ready to hand the menu over, little miss man stealer here batted her eyelashes and asked for Jake’s number. Hello? You were here too!

“I’m on a date here, can’t you see that?” he snapped, eventually reaching his own limits as well. “You’re disrespecting my girl and me,”

My girl, my girl, my girl.

That was spinning in your head even after Jake finished his small complaint, huffing and puffing in agitation. He was ready to face an unhappy face but it was actually quite the opposite. You were literally smiling giddily.

“What are you so happy for?” he couldn’t help laughing a little after seeing your smile, but you waved it off, shaking your head.

“It’s nothing, just thought of something,”

Jake nodded slowly, reaching over for your hand. “Sorry about earlier. I requested for a different waiter,”

“It’s fine, Jake, she was being totally unprofessional anyway,”

“Tell me about it, gosh,” he groaned, intertwining your hand with his, the spark in his eyes shining brighter. “I’m glad you’re here with me tonight,”

“Me too,”

“Thanks for giving me a chance again,”

“Always.”

You’d go back to him any day, any time, and frankly, he would do just the same.

EVER SINCE THAT NIGHT WITH JAKE, THINGS HAVE BEEN TAKING QUICK ADVANCEMENTS.

He brought you out on countless dates, whether it was casual ones or planned, he made the utmost effort to perfect them all, giving you great princess treatment everytime. Your football matches were something he hated missing out on, almost having perfect attendance and frequently being in the stands cheering you on. All in all, he has been nothing but a sweetheart, healing your heart gradually as time passed.

Nothing felt forced whenever you were with him, every moment together made you the happiest, and you couldn’t stop smiling around him and his silly jokes. You liked him, wait, no. You loved him. But there was an ongoing problem, you weren’t even official yet.

Waiting for Jake to ‘pop the question’ was something you didn’t want to think or stress about, but it was a passing thought once in a while. You appreciated the fact that he had indeed taken it slow and took baby steps during the past months of going on dates, but you were getting impatient. You knew you were ready.

Maybe things were meant to be unexpected, and that was the beauty of it.

Jake picking you up from training sessions became a frequent routine by now, proceeding to his house for some movies and hot dinner. This time around, he had other plans in mind that made you scratch your head curiously.

“You want me to stay over?”

“Yeah,” he said nonchalantly, totally laid back as if this wasn't something new. However, it was actually super new and foreign. You've been to his place lots and uncountable times, but staying over? That's new. “What’s wrong?”

"Nothing," you quickly assured. "I never stayed over, that's all,"

"You stayed over all the time when we're kids!"

"That's different. It's different now,"

Something glinted in those brown irises of his, realising what your words meant. "You're right. It is different."

The long training had you falling asleep right away when you got back, giving Jake the chance to pull another scheme right out of his sleeve. Unbeknownst to you, he had been planning this all along, finding a right time to execute it. He was going to pop the question, the boyfriend girlfriend question that you and him had been waiting for too long.

Jake was nervous. He wasn't even asking you to marry him, but it felt almost like it from the way he was pacing around in the other room while you were sound asleep peacefully. Calling take out and preparing a movie were the usual things you'd do whenever you were over at his, so he tried maintaining his cool and kept collected as he ran through the normal routine.

Peace wasn't an option when you woke up soon after, hearing your footsteps and hoping his heart would calm down quickly before it burst. You were freshening up in the bathroom, then he saw you approaching, a lazy smile greeting him. God, his heart was weak for you.

"Hey," your body fell into the couch right next to him, letting his arm naturally wrap around your shoulder. "What's for today's take out?"

"The usual, from your favourite place,"

"Stop, really?" You squealed in excitement, loving yourself some good food with an even better company. "What movie are we watching?"

"I know you've been dying to rewatch 'Pretty Woman', haven't you?"

"Maybe …"

"'Pretty Woman' it is then."

Everything seemed like how it always was, a movie playing in the background, the finished plates of food on the table, your head on Jake's shoulder, it was a normal day over at Jake's. Yet for him, it wasn't just a simple one this time around. He was going to finally say what he wanted to say, and he was going to be brave about it.

"Y/N, I've been meaning to ask you this—"

Your head snapped up from his shoulder, a look of worry written all over your face. "Is it about the last pizza slice you were saving?"

Jake blinked, being the one who's dumbfounded now. "What? Were you the one who ate it?"

"No?"

He rolled his eyes lightheartedly, reaching to pinch your cheek gently. "You're lucky I like you," this was the time, Jake, say it! "Which explains why I'm about to ask you this—" he turned his body to face you, took a hold of your hands, pulling you slightly closer to him.

"Let me be yours, Y/N. Can I be your boyfriend?"

Your momentary silence genuinely scared him a little, but the moment he saw your face lighting up with a wide cheesy grin, he knew that was it.

"Definitely—" you nodded almost too eagerly, your eyes wandering every part of his face, a swell of emotions erupted in the bottom pits of your abdomen. "—boyfriend,"

Upon hearing the word slipping from your lips, Jake couldn't get anymore giddy. "You're too cute. My girlfriend, my girl," he only got closer, inching towards you, his eyes occasionally flickering between you and your lips.

"Can I–I kiss you?"

At that moment, nothing felt real. The flashing lights from the television only made Jake's eyes gleam brighter in the dim room. You nodded, holding in your breath unknowingly. You were about to kiss Jake. Your boyfriend. Your best friend.

"I need words, sweets," he mumbled, one hand still holding onto you, the other already travelling up the side of your neck up to your face.

"Yeah, need you to kiss me,"

It didn't take Jake much more consideration after that, colliding his lips into yours electrifyingly, sealing unspoken desires and pent up frustrations, as if you and him had been waiting for this for too long. You reciprocated his desperation feverishly, the movie now completely out of sight and mind.

Jake was the first to pull away, both breathless and dazed, trying to catch his breath. You were most probably blushing, the dim light thankfully hiding it. Heart pumping heavily, feeling warm all over and a sense of excitement were overwhelming you suddenly, just from a kiss, which never happened before in the history of your love life.

"You're pretty, really pretty," his low voice brought you out of your brief trance, not realising how close he was to you and him observing your every feature. "Can I kiss you again?"

Something in you, probably the overflowing giddiness, brought out a light laugh from you, and being easily influenced by you, Jake started laughing too. The hand holding onto yours tugged you towards him, your body crashing into his, until you finally adjusted your body comfortably in his lap, you met his lips once more.

You could feel Jake grinning into the kiss, either of you breaking into small giggles here and there. The kiss was gentle this time, the love and affection from him were poured into his kiss, expressing something words aren't enough or able to.

"I can never resist you," you poked his chest lightly, your head now resting on Jake's shoulder just like before, your arms now wrapped around his torso, sitting in his lap and enjoying the intimacy.

"Of course you can't," he teased, earning a small punch to the shoulder from you. "I might need more kisses,"

"You're getting none,"

"You're so mean,"

"But you do love me for that, don't you?"

Jake wasn't able to resist an eye roll, tickling your side. "I do," his hand rubbing your back. "Hey, what do you think my mum would react after we tell them about us?"

"Is your mum going to kill me?"

"You're aware my mum loves you more than me, right? Her own child? She's going to be fine," he snorted, his fingers playing with your hair distractedly. "I'm really glad you're here with me now, genuinely. You've always been my strength, my number one, and I don't think I could even be here without you,"

"Jake…" you faltered, getting slightly emotional, the effect of his words getting to you again! " I'll literally kiss you again,"

"Really?"

"Later," you pushed your overly impatient boyfriend's face away, letting out a humorous laugh, only to face a pout from him after. "I'll always come back to you."

You knew heaven was a thing, you go there whenever you are with him. If this was what love felt like, maybe you would want it for a long time.

No matter how hard you tried to fight it, he would always make you feel things others wouldn't be able to. Even after breaking your heart, then healing it wholly, it somehow only beats for him, and in the end, you knew you'd go back to him, you'll always do.

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fandoms-writings · 4 months

Text

Falling Concrete

Pairing: Avenger!Bucky x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 1.2K

Summary: Based off the prompt "Don't go where I can't follow. . . I thought I lost you." requested by anon.

Warnings: angst, happy ending kinda?, that's really it lol

A/N: this is unbeta'd, all mistakes are my own. I know it's not fantastic lol but i just wanted it done

The wind from outside whipped against your face as you stood with the quinjet door open, the jet hovering over the collapsing building.

Your breath was stuck in your chest, your throat clenched tight as your watering eyes remained locked on the crumbling structure.

You'd just been in there on a mission, sent to retrieve anything of value left behind by a small HYDRA group that remained just out of your team's grasp. You had been sent in with Bucky while Natasha waited in the jet for a quick escape.

She'd recently injured herself on another mission and was on strict "flying the jet only" orders. They were really bed rest orders, but she'd convinced the higher ups to at least let her be your escort to and from missions.

You'd been in the building, about a third of the way through clearing it when a large boom set your ears ringing as the ground shook, knocking you off your feet.

Coming to the conclusion that the building had been rigged to self destruct, you and Bucky had bolted back the way you entered, racing against time as it began to fall apart.

He must've seen it before you, the chunk of concrete wall that was bound to block the way out. You remembered hands colliding with your back. Hands who'd never shown you anything but gentle kindness, shoving you so hard the air had been knocked from your lungs, leaving you stunned as you fell out of the building and rolled along the dirt.

It took only a second for you to whip your head back around to see the doorway blocked and you crawled your way over and up back to your feet as you called for Bucky on your ear piece, only getting static in return.

Nat's worried voice filled your ear, asking what happened, that she'd felt the shaking and was headed your way, but you ignored her. Your eyes were scanning the surface of the building as fast as they could, searching for any crack in that building to see through. To try and see Bucky.

You eventually saw what looked like movement through the smallest crack in the wall and you rushed to it, again calling his name.

It was only a moment, but it felt like eons as you waited to hear a response. But suddenly, the timbre of his voice flowed from the crack.

"Are you okay?" He asked, as if he wasn't the one stuck.

"I'm fine, but don't you ever do that again." You'd demanded. "We need to get you out, and fast."

"I know the layout, I studied the schematics of the facility before we got here," His voice called, "There's another exit around the southwest end of the structure. I can make it."

A dark sense of dread wrapped around your heart and you wanted to argue with him, but there was no other choice and no time. The building was unstable, and he needed to get moving. Now.

"Go," You ordered, "I'll get Nat over there with the jet, we'll meet you there."

You heard him shuffle, as if he was hesitating, before the scuffle of his feet grew quieter and you relayed the information to Natasha who met you at the southwest exit Bucky had mentioned.

That's where you now waited, every second passing feeding that sense of dread in your chest until all you could do was think about it.

Ever since you two had been paired together on your first mission with SHIELD, you'd never been separated. You stuck by each other's sides, never leaving the room without the other, back to back even in certain situations. There wasn't one mission where you split up.

Until now. And it didn't feel right. Something was wrong.

You would go back in, scour the place until you either found Bucky or died trying, but there was a reason that Natasha kept the jet in the air. She knew you too well. So you watched in agonizing silence as you waited.

And waited.

The last of the building was falling, quickly racing for that door and you swear your heart stopped as your grip on the hand hold tightened until your knuckles were white and your hand went numb.

Suddenly, the door burst open, a familiar form clad in black tumbling out, rolling back on his feet and running from the building. Only when he was far enough from the building to have absolutely no chance of being injured did your body allow you to breathe.

Nat brought the jet to him, hovering over the ground as he jumped in before she took off back towards New York.

He laid on the ground at your feet, your wide eyes locked on him as he heaved, his brow shining in sweat.

"Told you I could make it," he panted with a half smile. You heard Nat mutter his name, and watched as his head tilted up to see her. The grin was instantly wiped from his face as his attention turned back to you.

His brows furrowed as he sat up, reaching for your hand that hung limp at your side.

"Hey," he whispered, "Talk to me, what's wrong?" His eyes did a quick scan of your rigid stance before returning to your eyes, "Are you hurt?"

You felt the warmth of tears sliding down your cheeks, your hand aching as you continued to grip the hand hold, even though the door was closed now - it was the only thing holding you up. You noticed the panic rise in Bucky as he moved to kneel in front of you, his eyes darting around your face.

"Hey, hey, hey," He rushed, "Smartie, what's wrong?"

The nickname was your doom, all the air rushed from your lungs in a wet sob and your hand gave out, your knees hitting the floor as he did his best to catch you.

You'd been so close to never hearing him call you that again. To never touching him or hearing him or smelling him. To never seeing him. The weight of all of it crushed your chest as your hands pushed and gripped his shoulders, your own body not knowing whether to hold him close or push him away.

"What were you thinking?" You wetly demanded, your vision blurry from your tears, but he was clear. He always would be. "Why would you do that?"

Of course he knew what you were talking about as his eyes softened. Hell, he probably expected you to bring it up later, but not so soon. "You were going to get crushed. I had to make sure you got out."

"Not at the expense of you," You ground out through gritted teeth, "Never at the expense of you."

His eyes softened before he pulled you in, folding your fighting arms against his chest and tucking your head under his chin.

Your fingers gripped his kevlar suit, gripping it tight as you muttered to him, "Don't you ever go where I can't follow." You pulled back, looking up at him and seeing his eyes welling with tears, "I thought I lost you."

"You didn't lose me," He whispered, "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."

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expectodragons · 7 months

Text

The Art of Receiving || 18+ Oneshot

✦ Summary: The stress of studying for your final exams is finally getting to you and you're in desperate need of some relief.

✦ Pairing: Aesop Sharp x Female Reader

✦ Word Count: 2,230

✦ Rating: Explicit, 18+ only - minors do not interact.

✦ Tags / Warnings: Age difference, oral sex (f!receiving), PWP, reader is of age, slight power dynamics, student/professor relationship, vaginal fingering.

It was not often you found yourself in use of the bath in the Prefect’s bathroom. The place was a privilege for but a select few students, yourself included. Being a Quidditch Captain did have its benefits, after all. But rarely did you find the time, or the need, to traverse the many steps up to the hidden room.

Today, however, had given you every single reason to seek out the vast warm waters of the pool-like tub.

Exam season was upon the castle and your nerves, in particular, were due to fry if you spent another moment huddled over a dusty tome in the library with your group of fellow seventh-years. Between a series of challenging classes and the overwhelming air of expectation that was placed upon you by your professors, you were a step short of collapsing.

You had felt your eyes blurring together the words of Malinda Haddock and her many essays on the intricacies of advanced Transfiguration in the fifteenth century. Your head had pounded against the table, much to the concern of Poppy who had been working alongside you.

It felt like your mind could consume no more information – a sponge already seeping out water – you were at your fill of knowledge. And nothing the famed witch could say about the difficulties of transfiguring avian creatures into knitting needles could breach your mental walls.

So, with a weary pace, you had found yourself taking the long journey up to the top of the South Wing’s tower. Flicking the spigot on every faucet until the bath filled with technicolor soap and kaleidoscope-colored bubbles floated into the air. Time had passed without your awareness, so lost in the delicious sensation of warm water rippling over your stressed shoulders.

But, when you at last extracted yourself from the lovely bath and had dried and dressed yourself once again, you finally took notice of the time. Curfew was due to start in but a few minutes and dinner was obviously out of the question.

As you descend the spiral staircase, eager to pick up your pace in an effort to make it to your common room before the clock strikes the hour, you find yourself face-to-face with a particular Potion Master.

“Ah,” Sharp says your name in that slow sardonic tone. He peers up at you from his lower position on the staircase.

“Professor Sharp,” you say in polite admonishment.

If he held you up any longer, you would never make it to your common room in time.

Sharp takes a step, and then another. And even though he’s three steps below your position on the landing, he’s fully eye-level with you.

“You were absent from dinner this evening.”

Your chin juts out, ever so slightly, “I was. And if you’ll excuse me, I wish to make it to my dorm before curfew begins, sir.”

The professor gives an amused hum of consideration. You feel your cheeks become aflame with heat with the look he bestows upon you.

Resting a hand on the banister, he leans into the rails, as though he has nowhere to be in a particular hurry.

“How are your study sessions coming along? I believe the entirety of your year has taken over Scribner’s domain this past week.”

With a huff of annoyance, an impatience sending your feet rocking back and forth, you respond with a simple, “Fine.”

“And your classes? You’re keeping up with the workload I imagine?”

“Yes, sir. If you excuse me, please. I really must get going.”

Before you can so much as brush past him on the other side of the staircase, Sharp moves another step forward and takes a gentle hold of your right arm – your skin still radiates the warmth from your long bath and you know he can feel it between his fingers as his thumb begins to rub a steady rhythm against your hammering pulse point.

The two of you rarely appeared together outside of the safety of his office. Where he could lock the doors and cast a simple Muffliato upon the room. Your meetings were cherished, but increasingly rare as the days leading up to the NEWTs kept you away. But here, in the Faculty Tower – on the top landing of the tower, at that – you feel a familiar rush of desire pooling in your stomach as Aesop takes a final step forward.

Towering over you now, you can feel his warm breath upon your face. Smell the comforting aroma of sandalwood and musk that lingers on his robes. You can even see the beginnings of that familiar small smile of his that sends your heart racing anytime he shares it with you.

“You must be exhausted, my dear.”

The firm press of his thumb on your wrist has your knees buckling, lost in the weight of his heavy stare.

“It… has been rather stressful.”

“Hmm,” he hums in return. His charcoal-colored eyes bore into you as if undressing you here in the corridor before he seemed to make a decision – a sudden flicker of interest across his face your only warning.

“Perhaps you are in need of some relief, as it were.”

You gulp, feeling a flood of want surging through your chest. Your neck flushes with warmth and your ears begin to burn as you carefully turn your wrist in his hold until your fingers wrap around his thumb.

“Perhaps, sir.”

With a thin smile, Aesop leads you the few short steps up to his personal chambers.

This was one place you had never adventured before.

There had been two, and only two, separate occasions in your time with the potions professor, where a secret rendezvous occurred outside of his office. Once, in a hidden nook in the Bell Tower when the majority of the school was out on a Hogsmeade trip. And one very heated exchange in the changing rooms after a quidditch match when the rest of your team was headed off to the common room to celebrate your victory.

But this?

You allow your gaze to wander around the red-toned room. Taking in the small things that took up your professor’s private space. It was hardly as neat as you would have assumed it to be. Stacks of papers, bottles, and potion tools littered every available space. A lone chair sat before a blazing fire. A curious glance towards an ajar doorway nearly has your attention before Aesop’s hand cups your face.

“Now…” he intones. “What to do with you?”

Creeping up on your tiptoes, you lean into his touch.

“I could think of a thing or two.”

He chuckles, curling a finger through the damp locks of your hair.

“I imagine you could. However…” his gaze goes distant, seemingly transfixed by the droplets of water that travel from your hair down to his finger.

Giving an experimental tug, he brings you closer – holding onto but a single strand of your hair. You allow yourself to be pulled, pressing up to meet his curved smile as a kiss, almost too sweet, is placed upon your lips.

“Poor, poor girl,” he murmurs against your lips, tilted back just enough to keep him from making contact with your eager mouth. “Drowning under the pressure of your studies. Has no one shown you proper care these past few weeks?”

His snide remarks only have you leaning up to try and join your lips together once again, but he remains stubbornly persistent in refusing you further. Much to his own delight, apparently, as a wolfish grin materializes on his face.

And then his hands are traveling down your sides. Fingers pressing into the curve of your waist, the small swell of your stomach, the dip of your hips. As you wrap your arms around his neck, his head lowered to almost rest upon your shoulder, you feel the cool air of the room caress your legs as you find your skirt being pushed up.

“If only someone was willing to spare you a thought, hmm?” he crones.

Calloused fingers meet your bare skin, following the gentle curve of your inner thighs as they trail higher and higher.

“What have we here?”

You can sense the pleased smile on his face as his fingers delve into the wet heat between your legs – your eyes closing and your head tilting back in delight at the first brush of his knuckle across your lips.

Warm breath tickles your ear as teeth gently tug at the lobe.

“Eager indeed.”

At last, you lean against him, moaning a gentle, “Aesop.”

He smirks, removing his hands – allowing your skirt to fall back into place – as he pulls you toward the door across the room. Walking backward, he presses the entry open and leads you into a smaller room. Your eyes flash across an array of furniture, covered portraits, stacks of cauldrons, and books, before falling upon the bed.

“My darling girl,” he smooths, turning you slowly in his embrace until you find your knees backed into the crimson sheets of his bed.

A gentle press on your shoulder has you sitting down like a good student, while the man before you drops to a single knee. Your hands grip the sheets like a vice as your skirt is rolled up onto the tops of your thighs and two large palms press your knees apart.

Sharp settles there, in the V of your legs, as a hand lazily drags through the warm slick of your desire. Perhaps another clever quip could be said then, but his dark gaze has zeroed in on his own fingers now, and with a muffled cry parting from your lips Aesop leans forward and licks a warm stripe up your quim.

Pulling your fist to your mouth, you bite down on the flesh of your fingers as he repeats the action.

Heated breath grazes your cunt and the pleasant sting of his stubble scrapes the smooth flesh of your thighs as a deep moan rumbles across your womanhood.

His hands wind under your knees as he spreads you further open, his nose brushes against your mound, as he dips his tongue into your quivering hole – scooping up every bit of sweet juice he finds dribbling out of you.

“Oh god,” you cry out.

Your hand falls from your mouth to latch into the silky strands of his dark tresses. Pulling him closer as he starts to work a steady rhythm with his mouth. Buried between your thighs like he was meant to always be there, Aesop moans another gravelly sound as he begins to suck your clit between his swollen lips.

Like a man starved, he finds his fill in the juncture of your legs. Licking up everything you have to give him, his hold upon your thighs leaves crescent-shaped bruises that send another delicious wave of pained pleasure toward your core.

“Yes, oh Merlin, yes!”

Urged on by your desperate cries, the potions professor barrels forward, sucking your button in earnest as you tug his hair into a tight grip. You can feel it, the sweet desperate coil in your core. Soon it will snap and your release will paint your lover’s face.

Rocking your hips to meet him, you find yourself grinding against his lips, though that only seems to encourage him as he flicks his tongue over your clit and stares up at you with that glazed-over heavy expression in his eyes.

Sweat clings to his brow and his hair curtains his face, but all you can focus on are those gorgeous eyes. So drunk on you, your taste, your cunt. You find your bundle curling tighter and tighter, your hips rocking in a frantic pattern, as Aesop sucks down your sweet pleasure.

A rumbling moan sends you over the edge as he dives into you with a fervor.

His tongue, almost too rough now, laps up your desire as your hold on his hair loosens and your legs seem to become leaden underneath you.

Slowly, he pulls back – his chin a wash of cum and spit – as he huffs out a few raggedy breaths. His lips grace your thigh with wet kisses before he finally drops your legs back to the ground and carefully eases himself back up.

Taking a place beside you on the bed – where you are now lounged back, breathing several shuddering gasps – Aesop drags his hand across your torso, fingers snagging on the buttons of your blouse. He walks up your sternum before his thumb finds the curve of your bottom lip and tugs down upon the silky flesh.

“Feeling relaxed, dear one?” he murmurs, watching you with a transfixed sort of expression that spoke of feelings more than just casual fleeting interest and obvious lust.

Huffing a lofty laugh, you shake your head – lulling your head to the side so you can meet his gaze.

“So relaxed, I fear I might not be able to move again.”

His hand trails to the curve of your jaw, where he cups your heated flesh – a lone finger rubbing over the delicate skin of your cheek.

“That would truly be a shame if that were the case.”

“Wouldn’t it just?” you smile brightly. Feeling the ticklish tingle of your legs and the overwhelming sensation of undiluted happiness coursing through you.

Sharp hums once again in agreement before he leans down to place a lingering kiss upon your honey-sweet lips.

#aesop sharp x reader #professor sharp x reader #aesop sharp fanfic #professor sharp fanfic #hphl fanfic #my fic

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queen-in-the-shadows · 6 months

Text

Hellevator Captivation (1) The Beginning

MDNI MDNI MDNI MDNI MDNI MDNI MDNI MDNI MDNI MDNI

Warnings: drinking! (all characters are of legal age); (eventual): yandere; teratophilia; noncon/dubcon; mxm; memberxmember; mmf; VIOLENCE; mentions of murder (none of the MCs); more warnings on individual chapters. Please feel free to send an ask or message if you feel I miss any warning tags!

Summary: Chan and his 7 crew members crash landed on Zyloren-9, otherwise known as Earth, and are trying to wire their ship to allow them to connect to a rescue group. Until they take an obsessive interest in a peer who is a little too pretty and a little too innocent. They can bring specimens back for scientific studies, right? In other words: Chan and the others take a liking to you and decide they want to take you back with them, they just need to connect a rescue ship—and convince you to walk onto the ship without any questions.

Chapter 1

Chan slowly came to, shaking the fuzziness and whistling birds from his head, unbuckling the chest straps that held him tight to the chair during their rapid and unexpected descent as he glanced around, looking for his companions. Fuck. We crashed. While he couldn’t see his members, he could at least feel the connection that held them together, everyone was fine. He looked over the control system, assessing the damage to their craft before even attempting to piece together where they had landed, let alone on which planet they were possibly stranded. Chan flipped a few switches and pressed a few buttons, to no avail. No reaction. The craft was dead.

He heaved a sigh, turning around and leaving the control room to search in the areas of the ship where the others would have likely been during the crash. Chan reached the on-board gym first, finding Changbin sprawled on his ass on the floor. Chan reached a hand to help the other up, “Bad news, ship is dead. We might be able to rework communication comms, but I doubt it. So, lets grab the others and figure out where exactly we landed.” The two moved separate ways, following the pull they had, one leading to the kitchen and Minho and Felix, the other to the makeshift common-area-turned-game-room filled with Hyunjin, Jeongin, Jisung and Seungmin. The two groups met in the common area, eyes raking over bodies for bumps and bruises, and Chan moved towards the intact windows, glancing outside for any indication of where they had crashed.

“It seems we made it to Zyloren-9 as planned, but I have no clue where we managed to land.” He used the data scanner in his bracelet to analyze the air quality, “As we thought, the air will be fine for us. Don’t worry about suits.” The men soon found themselves outside of their damaged ship, walking through a dense forest and hoping to find civilization soon.

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Chan and the others had enrolled in the local university, using their persuasion to enroll in classes and offers of jobs to blend in, creating their own frat and not accepting new pledges so as to conceal the fact that they weren’t from Zyloren-9; or as the inhabitants called it ‘Earth.’ Changbin was studying their music, along with Jisung and Chan; Jeongin and Seungmin focusing on science and engineering, although both were taking a few music theory and choir courses as electives; Minho, Hyunjin and Felix were all studying the inhabitant’s idea of dance, and language.

The group would wear items that were trending, often with some sort of coordinated outfit look between the 8 of them, attempting to blend in; although it came to be known to not work so well, as Minho snuck a peek at some of the inhabitants’ inner thoughts. The residents of Earth thought their shells looked hot, not that the males cared. They were just trying to get enough information to either rig the primitive and nearly obsolete technology, or fix their communications network to long distance, so that they can call for help. They weren’t planning on all finding a specimen they would want to bring back to Cleithonia, for scientific purposes of course. They weren’t planning on it being the same specimen, certainly not planning on it being you. The one who both Seungmin and Jeongin met in a few courses, who had been invited to the house before and had the entire crew going nearly feral over the warm, sweet scent of true vanilla—not that fake chemical shit that a lot of the people on the college’s campus wore—and the calming scent of lavender.

No, you… you were different. Entertaining. They all agreed to keep you around while figuring out what to do about their ship but had no idea that each and every one of them wanted to keep you around longer than that. So they did what they did best: threw parties to maintain their cover of frat boy college students, while working on a way to contact Zyloren-9. That was how you ended up at the frat house the first Friday of spring break week. The last day for some people on campus before leaving to come back tanned and hungover after a week of partying on a beach somewhere, and the first day of constant parties circulating from frat house to frat house, sorority to sorority for the rest of the students—those with jobs that wouldn’t give time off long enough to make escape worthwhile, or any time off at all.

Seungmin had been the first to mention it to you, the frat party being held at their house the last day of classes before break. He had told you to join them, not that you didn’t normally join them anyways—he just wanted to make sure you knew he, and the rest of them, specifically wanted to see you there, that they would be disappointed if you didn’t celebrate the week free of assignments and course responsibilities. Innie had joined in with a pout pointed straight at your heart, and ‘how can anyone deny the baby, if you tell him no it’s just cruel!’ It was all the pestering that had you getting dressed up in a pair of tight fit, high-waisted, bell-bottomed jeans and a black, lacy-yet-classy short sleeved leotard bodysuit. You added some black winged eyeliner, mascara, and a lightly tinted gloss to your lips, slid into a deceptively lightweight jean jacket and some comfortable platform Mary Jane heels that completed the outfit before walking out the door to the SKZ Frat House that Friday night.

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You made it to the frat house, greeted at the door by one of the members you didn't know as well as Seung and Innie, Jisung. He was sweet, even if a little awkward at times, always trying to make everyone laugh. You had only met a handful of times, always while you were working on a class project with not much time to spare and talk.

"Oh, I'm so glad you're here! We were wondering if the boys convinced you. C'mon, everyone is around somewhere, let's get you a drink!" You had reached Jisung, who had taken ahold of your hand, giving you a heart smile and nearly dragging you into the kitchen behind him. You stumbled over yourself slightly, since when is he okay with-- what? Jisung had managed to mix you a drink, "It's malibu coconut and root beer," thrusting the solo cup into your hand and whisking you away once more.

"Ji- thanks, but what are you doing? I don't mind I just didn't think you were this comfortable with me around? I know we're friends and all but--"

"Don't worry about it cutie! Everything's fine, let's just find the others. I know they'll all want to see how cute you look all dressed up for us."

Taglist: @moonlightndaydreams @channieandhisgoonsquad @queenmea604 @sky-angel101 @thightswideforhanin @cloudieclair @salfetkablog

#Hellevator Captivation #alien stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids ot8 #skz ot8 #yandere stray kids

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phoward89 · 2 months

Text

Based on this ask

Your day started as it normally does. You woke up in your boyfriend's arms, trying to wiggle away from him without disturbing his sleep. And like every morning, Coryo woke up, only to hold you closer and press a good morning kiss to your lips.

“Morning, darling.” He greeted you, voice rough with sleep.

“Morning, Coryo “ You replied with a smile.

“Where are you going, baby?” Coryo asked as you tried to get up.

“I need to pee and we have to get ready.” You told the platinum blonde, whose curls were messily resting against his red silk pillowcase like a halo. When Coriolanus made no move to let you get up, you lightly rubbed his chest while reminding him, “We both have classes today and you have that meeting with Dr. Gaul to see if you're qualified to be promoted from an intern to a full time gamemaker position.”

“I think you're more nervous about my meeting than I am.” Your boyfriend sighed, letting his hold on you go.

“It's a very important meeting, Coryo. Of course I'm nervous for you.” You told your boyfriend as he sat on the edge of the bed, slipping on his slippers. Before he could stand up, you wrapped your arms around him from behind. Resting your head against his shoulder, you said, “I know how much you want to become a gamemaker.” The blonde man didn't say a word, just placed his large hand over yours. He ran the calloused pad on his thumb over his knuckles as you continued your thoughts with, “You're always pushing yourself to be the best. And to become the youngest gamemaker in Panem's history while enrolled at the University as a double major's an honor, one that I know you want to have.”

“You know me so well, Y/N.” Coriolanus lightly chuckled. Gently unwrapping your arms from around him and standing up, he sighed, “We better get on with our morning.”

After doing your morning routine of showering, dressing, and eating breakfast, Coryo drove you both to Capitol University, the most esteemed university in all of Panem. Since you were a couple of years younger than him, your classes were mostly pre-recs and were on the other side of the campus then the major focused classes. So, you and your boyfriend parted ways with a kiss shortly after arriving in the parking lot of the University.

Coriolanus took off towards where his classes and friends were while you took off to find your own friends and attend your classes.

Everything was going fine until lunchtime rolled around.

You usually ate lunch with your friends, a small group of girls that you've known since your academy days. Sometimes Coriolanus would join you, bringing Clemensia and Festus to tag along. Other times, which was usually all the time, your boyfriend spent his lunch hour in the library studying, working on projects, and drawing up proposals to hand to Dr. Gaul concerning the games.

Unfortunately for you, this afternoon was one of those days that Coryo was holed up in the University library, doing something productive in his quest for academic supremacy and power.

Usually, it'd be fine and you'd just eat in the University dining hall with your friends, but not today.

No…

Today you got into a fight with your friends. A fight that started over a simple disagreement. It was a silly disagreement really. A disagreement that started over, of all things, dresses for the upcoming Spring Ball.

One of your friends got upset that you simply told her that maybe she shouldn't plan to wear a black dress, but maybe something pastel since she already wore black a few months back for the Yule Ball. She snapped at you and even made a snide remark about how you could afford to buy a thousand dresses and for a thousand balls since you're shacking up with Coriolanus Snow. The remark hurt, but what hurt worse was that your other friends backed her up; attacked you too.

The lunch fight got so heated with all the screaming, yelling, shouting, and crying that the other students eating in the dining hall stopped what they were doing to watch and listen in.

Yea, your fight with your friends was quickly becoming a spectacle for gossip.

Feeling overwhelmed by sadness, you gathered your things and rushed out of the dining hall. Unfortunately, your absence was the perfect opportunity for your friends to start spreading lies about you. To make it seem like you weren't a good friend, that you were greedy, etc.

The girls you've been friends with since your Academy Days were being petty. Ruining years of friendship. And for what?

A simple disagreement. Or was there more to it? Was jealousy over your relationship with Coryo the true cause of it?

Your day went from bad to worse when your phone kept going off left and right with Pangram notifications. As it turns out, your friends weren't your friends anymore and they were posting all kinds of mean things about you. Even tagging you in the posts too. And your best friend, well she was petty enough to post the glittery words of Fuck You on her social media.

Words aimed at you.

And the worst part was that you're dealing with all of this alone since your boyfriend has his own studies to worry about. And, of course, he has a very important meeting with Dr. Gaul about his future career.

Usually you'd catch a ride home with one of your friends if Coryo had work or meeting scheduled at the Citadel, but not today.

Today you had to walk home from the University since you lost your friends. And, of course, your mind kept replaying everything as you walked home.

And when you finally got home, you dropped your books on the glass star shaped coffee table and made a mad dash to your bedroom before Grandma’am could realize that you were home and ask about your day.

You adored Coriolanus' grandmother, you really did, but sometimes she could be a bit much. And after the day you had, well, you just didn't want to deal with her. In fact, you didn't want to deal with anybody at the moment.

All you wanted to do was curl up in a ball and cry.

When Coriolanus walked into the penthouse he had a huge smile on his face. He was on the right track for graduating Summa Cum Laude and being the Valedictorian of his class. He was also given an assistant gamemaker position, which was amazing consider that made him the youngest gamemaker on Dr. Gaul's staff.

Dr. Gaul has told Coriolanus that he had a drive that she hadn't seen since she taught his father. That, in fact, his drive for success surpassed that of the late General Snow’s. That he, Coriolanus Snow, was destined for great things; to be a great contributor to Panem. She even told him that she saw political potential in him.

Coryo couldn't wait to tell both you and Grandma'am about his great news, but when he came home he was only met with the sight of Grandma’am in a sitting chair, watching one of her late afternoon Capitol TV soaps, and your books on the glass coffee table. He instantly knew that something was wrong. You'd never ignore Grandma’am. Not unless you weren't feeling well.

No. You loved his Grandma’am. Adored her, enjoyed her company.

“Is Y/N feeling unwell?” Coriolanus asked his Grandma'am, his icy blue eyes shifting between her and your books.

“I'm not sure, Coryo. I didn't see her come in.” The old woman, dressed in a fine tunic and a matching jeweled turbin, told her grandson.

“I’ll check on her, Grandma'am. Just continue watching your soap.” He told her before walking down the hall towards his room. The room that he's been sharing with you ever since he moved you in.

“Darling, are you unwell?” Coryo asked, opening the door and stepping inside of the bedroom.

The site of you curled up in a ball on the bed, crying, gutted him. He hates to see you cry.

And whoever made you cry was dead. Coriolanus would personally make sure of it. Nobody makes his baby cry and gets away with it

Nobody.

“Baby, what’s wrong? What happened?” Coryo asked, rushing over to the bed.

And when you felt him wrap his arms around you, you broke down. You told him everything that happened. About the fight and how you lost all of your friends. About how they pettily posted shit on Pangram all day and how they've been gossiping about you; talking trash.

Coriolanus just let you spill your guts to him. The more you told him, the more he began to scheme up ideas to make those girls pay for what they did to you.

And they were going to pay.

Their families were going to pay too.

All because they made you cry. When they made the girlfriend of Coriolanus Snow cry, well, they just opened up Pandora's box. And once that bitch’s open, it doesn't close.

As Coryo spooned you, he pressed a kiss to your shoulder and assured you, “You’ll feel better now that you've cried it out, baby” He nuzzled your neck, only to tell you, “I'm sorry those bitches did that to you, Y/N. You're the sweetest girl I know; you didn't deserve that.”

“It hurts, Coryo.” You sniffled. Staring out the window that was by the bed, you sighed, “I thought they were my friends. I've known them for years, just for them to turn on me because of a comment about a dress.”

Everything clicked in Coriolanus mind as soon as he heard you say ‘just for them to turn on me because of a comment about a dress’. Those words were all it took for him to realize that your friends were jealous of you because you belonged to him. They were jealous because he moved you into his house and spoiled you with clothes, jewelry, sweets, and anything else you could possibly want. They're jealous because he's rich, the Plinth heir, and he's showering you (his girl that made him fall in love again, even though he swore he'd never love anyone ever again) in luxury.

“They're jealous, baby.” Your boyfriend told you.

“I know.” You sadly nodded.

Pressing a kiss to your cheek, Coriolanus promised, “Baby, I'll never let anyone hurt you ever again.”

And he kept that promise.

Coriolanus made your former friends pay for what they done to you. For making you cry.

He ruined and bankrupted their families. He also ruined their reputations and had them expelled from the University.

Your Coryo made sure that everyone knew that if they messed with you then they messed with him. Safe to say, everyone kisses your ass out of fear that your boyfriend would make them disappear or make their lives a living hell.

Coriolanus also made sure that you were accepted into his friend circle. Those snotty rich kids at least didn't backstab their friends.

Well, Coriolanus did out of that group, but he wouldn't be backstabbing them til years later when he got deep into his presidential campaigns.

But for now, Coryo was just your supportive boyfriend that held you as you cried, dried your tears, and made everything all better for you.

Tags: @kuroosbby001, @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst, @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord, @erikasurfer @tulips2715, @universal-s1ut, @thesmutconnoisseur, @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen, @whiteoakoak, @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth

#coriolanus snow #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #thg #coriolanus snow x reader #coryo snow #coriolanus fanfiction #tbosas fanfiction #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coryo snow fanfiction #coryo snow x reader #coryo x reader #soft!coriolanus snow #soft!coriolanus snow x reader

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good-griief · 10 months

Note

Hey! I was wondering if I could request for Van Palmer? Something along the lines of the reader coming to terms with their sexuality?

It’s totally cool if you don’t want to write this request lol also kinda might start sending in asks so im gonna claim am emoji -🍾

sorry this took so long but i'm back and able to write again so here u go! this was getting very long so if u guys like it i'll happily make a part two!!<3

You were never a “talkative kid.” You were never one that could spell words like gargantuan or manganimus. You were never helping with your classmates’ homework or told you were exemplary. Your grades were average; A’s and B’s, but nothing exemplary.

Though there was one thing you were exemplary at. One thing that if given the chance to write about, you’d always be given the highest score. One single thing, completely apart from the rest that could get you an award for your writing.

Funnily enough. It was Soccer. You’d gotten an award for writing about soccer.

You always liked Soccer. Ever since you were little. You liked playing with your friends, hanging out with them. You liked the hugs that came after a big win, the friendships, the relationships. You liked the team bonding. You liked the sleepovers and parties. You liked getting close with the best of the girls because you were also one of the best. You liked the small, intimate group you had, and the small, intimate time you spent together.

You liked the times where you would have a sleepover and cuddle with one another. Sleepovers where you would kiss to ‘practice’ for boys. Sleepovers that got you so close you were hugging and leaning on each other all the time, lying your head in each other’s laps.

Sleepovers that somehow dwindled down to you and one other girl by eighth grade. A girl that you’d kiss to practice for boys that didn’t exist. A girl you held hands with at school and took to lunch on weekends with each other’s babysitting money.

A girl that moved away before highschool.

You started freshman year without friends, signing up for soccer tryouts and hoping that would get you somewhere.

You ended up on JV and it seemed the rising sophomore class had already gotten so close that your effort to make friends in soccer proved less than fruitful.

When you played scrimmages against varsity, the group hardly passed to you and kept it within their small circle.

There were two girls, Mari and Akilah, who you got along fine with, but they weren’t close, so you had to talk to one or the other during practice which meant you weren’t close with them either.

That left you in your own little bubble freshman year, floating around. No one really disliked you, but no one knew you either. Not even your own teammates.

Luckily, though, around winter break, you were asked out. You didn’t really know the guy, but Jackie, one of the sophomores in his grade and on the Soccer team, said he was nice.

So you said yes.

And suddenly after a winter break of calling this guy and getting hot chocolate with him, you were in with Jackie… Which meant you were in with Shauna, which meant the ball was passed to you, which meant they started to see how good you were, which meant they started to like you.

“Hey!” Jackie came up to you, Mari, and Akilah after practice.

You’d slowly been getting them closer so the three of you could hang out. You figured you could then start passing to them and get them in with the other girls without a whistle-blow from Coach Scott for changing a play.

“You three wanna come with us? Team bonding?”

“Sure!” You said first, all too enthusiastic and making her chuckle.

“I have to study,” Akilah said.

“Yeah, same,” Mari said, giving you a sympathetic smile. “Have fun, though!”

“Oh, we will!” Jackie looped her arm through yours as you gave your new friends a look. “Come on. You can tell me all about Mark— he’s friends with Jeff, you know?”

“Jeff?”

“My boyfriend.”

“Oh…”

“Oh, good! You brought her!” Nat, another sophomore, said.

“I told you the other two would say no.” Jackie shrugged.

“Still nice to ask everyone,” Lottie, the only one that’d actually introduced herself to you, said. She also gave you everyone else’s name. Which was helpful since they definitely weren’t going to introduce themselves.

“Hey,” except maybe one of them, She was shorter, redheaded, and the goalie. She gave you a sweet smile as she held out her hand. “Have you met everyone?”

You took her warm hand, shaking gently and earning even more of a smile. “Lottie,” you gestured to the brunette with your free hand, “told me about everyone.” She only nodded. “Vanessa? Right?”

“My friends call me Van.” You nodded, giving a small smile as you still mindlessly shook her hand. “You can call me Van,” she added with a smirking laugh, eyes darting to Lottie briefly. She had a feeling she told you her name was Vanessa on purpose.

The brunette was grinning from ear to ear, hands slapping at Nat’s as they both laughed together.

“Van.” You dropped her hand. “I’ll remember that.”

“Oh, I hope so—”

“Leave her alone,” Taissa butted in, laughing. “You can ride with us if you want.”

“Sure.” You agreed, walking next to Van as the group dispersed. “Where are we going?”

“I think Jackie’s,” she said. “She’s been dying to meet you and shit now that you're dating Mark.” You nodded. “Whole team has, really. You know, you’re pretty good?”

“Thanks, I think?” You frowned. “I’ve played since I was, like, eight.” She nodded along. “You guys are great. I mean, you’re the best high school team I've seen— Van, I’ve never seen a better goalie.” She smiled, shaking her head. “No, seriously,” you insisted when she went to object. “You must, like, study every player or something—“

“She does,” Taissa said.

You were glad you were usually on her team during JV scrimmage, or it’d be a challenge to get a goal.

“Insane.” You shook your head. “I can only ever tell if someone’s injured.”

“Oh, really?” Van asked, curious.

“Mhm. It’s pretty easy.” She frowned. “Just check the bench. Works every time.” Taissa stifled a laugh, Van laughing out loud.

“I thought you were serious,” she laughed.

“Yeah I could tell. You were all…” You imitated her face, making Taisa laugh.

“Come on, Tai!” Van hit her shoulder. “You’re supposed to be on my side!”

The ride to Jackie’s was spent receiving questions from Tai as Van just listened in or responded to something Tai said.

There was something about this girl. The way she spoke. The way she looked at you through the rearview mirror, checking to make sure you were comfortable. She was sweet, obviously, but there was something else. Maybe, it was just the fact that she was pretty and red-haired, but something about her was all too attractive.

In the sense that you wanted to be her friend, of course.

By the time you got to Jackie’s, the other girls were already there and inside while her parents ordered food for all of you.

They greeted you from the kitchen at the opposite end of the giant house and told you the girls were “in the parlor”.

“You’ll get used to it,” Van said, walking with you to the living room, which was one of many but clearly the most casual of them.

“Hi!” Jackie was quick to pull you by her.

The night was spent getting interrogated, practically, about your boyfriend while you ate pizza and watched shitty movies until people started falling asleep.

You were up late with Van, who, like you, seemed to enjoy the shitty movie on screen. She grabbed the two of you a board game to play while you watched.

“So, do you wanna tell me about yourself at all?” She laughed. “I know more about Mark than my new teammate now.”

“Wasn’t really prepared for that one,” you joked, making her chuckle as you took your turn. “Well, all my old soccer friends are at different high schools now,” you said, shrugging. “So if you’re wondering—“

“Why you seem like such a loner?” She interrupted, making you laugh. “I was a little curious.”

“Jeez,” you laughed. “My best friend moved, like, across the country, and the rest of my friends are on rival teams now… And I’ve beat them all—“

“Fuck yeah, you have!” She laughed.

You spent most of the night talking with Van, who seemed to have been waiting to talk to you alone. She hardly spoke in the group conversation, but now she was lively and engaged. Maybe it was because the conversation had less to do with your boyfriend, and more to do with you. Maybe because she actually got to know you. You couldn’t tell.

There was just something about her.

At the next practice, you were getting the ball passed to you regularly, but never close enough to score.

Maybe because the one time you tried, Van blocked it like it was nothing, but that was weeks ago.

Which meant you were determined to best her now.

When Tai passed you the ball, you made a move to get it to Akilah. Just as quickly as you passed it, it was stolen by Nat, but Mari got a read on what you were trying to do and got it back.

“Mari!” Tai waved, but she quickly passed it to Akilah now that no one was guarding her.

She passed the ball to you, and as quickly as you got it you were kicking it at the goal without moving from your spot.

“Ah, fuck,” Van muttered, having been counting on you coming toward her and already moving to the right of the goal. She jumped toward the left to block, but the ball barely brushed her fingers before getting caught in the net.

“Yes!” Mari yelled, high fiving both you and Akilah when they made their way to you. “That was clean!”

“It was sloppy,” Tai said, coming up to the three of you as the rest of your mock team came as well. “Just unexpected.”

You nodded in agreement. “A goal is a goal, though.” She narrowed her eyes, huffing a laugh. “That kinda unexpected sloppiness can win a game.”

“She’s not wrong.” Jackie patted your shoulder. “Nice shot.”

“Well, why don’t we add it to the playbook?” Tai said. “Test it out in a real game.”

“Oh, don’t be bitter, Taissa.” Jackie laughed. “She just wanted you to pass the ball to her.” Tai laughed at that.

For the rest of the practice, you made sure to pass to Tai every so often, the two of you testing out new plays.

Despite that, Van was determined to block every one of your shots.

More so than anyone else.

It was to the point that after that one goal, you didn’t score another.

“Good game today,” Van said in the locker room, hand on your hip as she moved behind you to get to her locker. “You were making me nervous.”

“Me?” You laughed. “You were pissing me off—“ Van cut you off with a loud laugh. “I only got one goal!”

“It was hard to make that happen!” She laughed, and once it died down, she spoke up again. “Do you think you’d want to come to the field early sometime? Practice with me?”

You smiled, nodding. “Of course!” It was the perfect opportunity to get closer with her. Maybe, know more about her.

To become better friends, of course.

The first time was that weekend. You came the Sunday after practice, practicing earlier in the morning and getting lunch afterward.

It slowly became a habit; every once in a while, every other week, weekly…

“Here.” Van jogged over to you as you stood in front of the ball. “You obviously have to turn your hips, but you really give yourself away…” She held out her hands, brows raised. You nodded and her hands went to your hips to readjust. “This is what you’re doing.” She turned you to the right. “So, I always know you’re going left, but…” She turned you to a slight angle, facing the right corner of the goal. You looked back at her and she couldn’t bring herself to get the rest of her sentence out. “I’m not sure how to explain it,” she said, taking a step back. “Why don’t you try goalie for a minute?”

“I’m a shit goalie, Van.” She laughed at that, but you went anyway.

“Just try and figure out which way I’m going,” she said.

That day, you spent the entirety of it ogether. It was past lunch by the time you went to the locker room to change, talking the whole way there about your newfound knowledge.

“Do you wanna get dinner?” You suddenly suggested, both of you in the midst of changing. “We could, like, go out or something?”

She paused, looking over at you as she got her shirt on. “Where do you wanna go?”

You shrugged. “Mark took me to this little diner a few blocks from my place last weekend,” you said and her mood seemed to dampen. “They have everything— it’s, well… Well, it’s not amazing, but it’s cute.”

“Um…” She took a moment, putting on her shoes and taking down her hair. “I’m kind of tired—“

“Oh—“

“Yeah—“

“That’s okay—! No, I mean, that makes sense. We’ve been here all day, so…” You nodded as you got your pants on and slipped on your shoes. “Maybe another time, then?”

“Totally.” She nodded, giving a smile despite the sudden awkwardness that came between you.

“Okay.” You nodded. “Then, I’ll see you tomorrow—“

“Wait, let me drive you home. It’s late—“

“No, no, no. It’s totally fine!” You gave her a smile as you grabbed your bag. “Mark was going to pick me up, anyway—“

“Oh, did you want to get dinner with him? Like, us three?” You shook your head. “But he’s picking you up,” she said, smirking with a furled brow.

“I would’ve just told him to go home, or hang out with Jeff and Randy, or something.” You shrugged. Her smile widened slightly, cheeks heating. “That’s kinda shitty, though, I guess.” She then laughed. “Next time we’ll, like, plan, or something.”

“Definitely.” She nodded. “And I’ll take you somewhere nicer than a hole-in-the-wall diner after practice, alright?”

Something about the way she said it made you smile, stomach fluttering. “Alright.”

She walked with you out of the dressing room and to your boyfriend's car. “See you tomorrow?” She said some ways away from the jeep he drove.

You nodded and leaned in for a hug, arms going around her shoulders. She was stunned for a moment, having not realized what you were actually leaning in for. She gave you a quick hug back before pulling away to go to her car.

The next day, she was talking to you in the halls, the next practice you were able to get more than one goal, and the next weekend your practice was spent laughing together in the field and dribbling the ball between one another rather than practicing.

“Oh shit!” Van laughed when it started to rain.

March had come quicker than you expected. You and Van had been hanging out for just over a month now, but it felt like you’d been friends all year.

Within minutes of you grabbing your bags, it was pouring rain and you were running to Van’s car.

“Jesus!” Van groaned as she slammed the door shut behind herself, you doing the same. You threw your bags in the backseat, wiping your faces.

She started the car, already starting her drive back to your house from memory.

“Just park in the garage,” you told her. “You can stay for a while.” You then added, “if you want.”

“Is that fine? Like, with your parents?”

“They’re out of town.” She nodded slowly, pulling into the garage. “I can, like, make us dinner or something,” you offered. “If you like pasta.”

“I love some good spaghetti.”

“Great!” You both laughed. “First, we need to shower, and get this shit in the wash.” You looked down at your damp shirt and shorts.

She turned off the car, and you headed inside. You grabbed both your bags and set them in the laundry room as you went inside, getting off your cleats and socks as well.

“Here.” You filled the silence and led her up the stairs. “My rooms there.” You pointed to the end of the hall. “I’ll use my parents shower… obviously.” Van chuckled at your awkward speech, nodding. “There’s towels and everything in there. You can just take my clothes.”

“You sure?”

You nodded. “Just send your stuff down the shoot.”

You took a quick shower before heading to your room in your towel and getting into pajamas.

You heard Van call your name some minutes later as you lay on your bed. “Close your eyes!” You laughed, covering your eyes. “Are they closed?”

“Yep.” She came in with just a towel. “I totally forgot to bring you clothes—“

“Fuck off.”

“Sorry!” You laughed. “Pajamas are in the bottom drawer.”

That night was spent making shitty pasta and laughing together as you ate in front of the TV you rolled out of your closet. You ended up sleeping in your room, falling asleep to an old movie with dishes on your night and arms around each other.

Since that day, Van had been so much more friendly.

It was almost insinuating.

She would touch you to get past you, tease you about a mistake on the field, sneak up and hug you from behind to scare you in the halls. And when she came over, she was touchy and clingy— not that you weren’t. You were often hugging her or lying your head on her shoulder. Hell, you even danced with her if either of you put on music.

On the field, however, she was awful. During scrimmage, she would go out of her way to make you fuck up. Even if you were on her team. She’d call something, or say something to you during a break that made you fumble the ball.

It was to the point that even her telling you good luck before a game had you flustered.

To the point where you fucked up.

“What the hell?!” Tai yelled at you as you shook your head at yourself. “Get it together—“

The ref blew a whistle for timeout after the other team's score. You groaned, walking over with a frown.

“What’s going on with you?” Ben asked.

“Are you sick?” Misty asked. “Injured?”

There was a small pep talk you had before you were sent back out. Unfortunately, your boyfriend was sitting with your parents as they watched you fuck up one of your last state games. It only made your nerves skyrocket.

“Get it together,” Nat told you, placing a hand on your shoulder as she walked past you.

Van was the last to leave, giving your shoulder a squeeze. “Guess we should’ve kept up our practices, huh?” She joked, earning a glare. “Sorry— Look, you’re good. Really good. You’re just being predictable.” You frowned at her. “Think back on that play you, Mari, and Akilah pulled earlier this year.”

When you got back on the field, you did as Van said. You let Shauna, Tai, and Nat get their goals in, but after that you asked Tai to pass to Akilah, who was heavily guarded.

“What?” She frowned at you. “You’re, like, out of your mind today.”

“Just try?”

As soon as the ball was stolen from Akilah, Mari got it to you, and you back to an unguarded Akilah. When she passed to you, you immediately kicked at the goal.

“YES!” You heard before you even knew what happened.

The buzzer sounded, signifying you’d won and leaving you shocked as your teammates huddled around you, chanting: “BUZZ. BUZZ, BUZZ, BUZZ!”

In the locker room, your excitement continued until you and Van were the last ones there.

“So, I was thinking,” Van spoke up. “What do you think about dinner this Sunday after our usual?”

“Oh, now you’re nice?” You joked.

Maybe it’d been left out that you were completely reciprocal in this teasing game. You would go up to her at her locker to scare her like she did you, and of course hug her and kiss her cheek afterward before you went to class, leaving her flustered and wanting to get back at you by the time practice rolled around. So, maybe, you brought it on yourself.

“Come on,” she laughed. “It’s not my fault I make you nervous.”

“You’re so annoying.” You shook your head. “I almost blew the match because of you.” Her brows shot up. “You were fucking with me before the game with your…” You gentured to her when she looked at you with false confusion. “You know what you were doing.”

She laughed. “Yeah—“

“See!”

“I was just teasing—“

“Well, stop it.”

“But you’re so cute when you’re flustered.” She pouted at you, earning a glare. “Even cuter when you’re mad at me.” She smiled. “Besides, we still won.”

“If we didn’t, they would’ve killed me.” She scoffed. “It’s not funny.”

“You’re actually upset?” She couldn’t help but laugh. “We still have, like, five games—“

“You can’t talk to me before them.” She practically guffawed. “You, like, fuck with with my fucking head. I don’t fucking know.”

“I fuck with your fucking head? What the fuck are you talking about?”

You groaned, turning to grab your bag. “Goodbye, Vanessa.”

“Hey.” She grabbed your hand, turning you around.

When she did, you were closer than she expected.

And that was when it started.

Her eyes fell to your lips before flitting back up to your eyes.

That was when you finally realized what that something about her was.

In the seconds it took you to process when was about to happen, her lips were on yours. Her hand still held yours and as soon as your free one went to her cheek, she tilted her head for a better angle.

You didn’t know how long you were there. You didn’t realize the time passing. You didn’t even know when it was that her hands found your waist and your other found her neck.

But you did realize that the door was opening.

You quickly pushed her back as someone stepped in, Van pretending to have been lacing up her shoes as she sat on the bench.

“Everything okay, babe?” Mark called from the doorway.

“Yeah, sorry. I was just helping Van with this turf burn.”

“Shit, is she okay?” He asked. “Should I get Misty?”

“I’m good!” Van called. “Just couldn’t wrap it myself.”

It took a few more exchanges to get him to leave, but eventually the door shut and you grabbed your things. You went to leave, but stopped yourself and turned around. You placed your hand on her shoulder as you leaned down to kiss her cheek. “Come over after practice tomorrow?”

She looked over at you, brow raised. “Does this mean you’re not mad at me anymore, or…?”

“I’ll think about it.”

When she came over, the two of you went straight to your room to “watch TV.” You locked the door behind you, rolled out your miniature TV and put in a tape, and sat down on the bed with Van.

“Hurry up,” she laughed as she grabbed your hand and pulled you down on top of her.

You never talked about it. You didn’t discuss what was going on. You didn’t even ask what it meant.

You just changed your practices to time together. You’d still practice, but you’d also just sit and talk. You’d make out in the locker room before going to get lunch or dinner. You’d hang out with the team and sneak off to have time alone. You’d even just get together. One of you would call and ask the other to lunch, or to go to the mall, or just to come over. There wasn’t a need for the practice excuse anymore, it was just nice to do that, too.

But you also had to decline at times.

“Mark wanted to take me to the movies,” you told her one night and you could practically feel her mood shift. “Maybe… Maybe I can get him to—“

“No, it’s okay,” she told you quickly. “Spend time with your boyfriend.” The word left a sour tension in the air.

“Van—“

“What time’ll you be home?”

“Hey,” you sighed when she spoke over you. “If you want me to, I’ll… I can tell him, but I don’t think—“

“You’re going to tell him you’re cheating on him with your best friend?” She asked, tone disbelieving. “No way.”

“Tell him I want to break up,” you clarified. She was quiet for a moment. “And… We’re not cheating.”

“We’re hooking up,” she deadpanned.

“But…” You pursed your lips. “There’s no possibility of us… being an us, is there?” Your hopeful question, despite how poorly it came out, was met with another beat of quiet from her end, but she didn’t say anything that time. “I just mean… There isn't a way we could actually be together— at least, not in a real way—“

“In a real way?” She scoffed a laugh as she often did when you misused and fumbled over your words. “Have I been imagining all this, or—?”

“That’s not what I mean.” You pinched the bridge of your nose as you started to get frustrated; mostly with yourself and your horrible articulation. “Publicly. Like, I’d never cheat with Randy or Jeff.” She cursed your name, laughing in disbelief as she listened to you try to justify what you’d said instead of taking it back. “This… You and me, is it really going anywhere? Because, if it’s just ‘hooking up’, we could never really be anything, you know? And that sucks, but it’s also, I don’t know, it’s, like, better—?“

“So, let me get this right… You think it's better that you’re with me, because if you were cheating with a guy, it’d actually be real— or no, there’d be a possibility of an actual relationship.” You pursed your lips at the tone of her voice, knowing how awful it sounded. “Is that right?”

“Not exactly.” She hummed, waiting for you to explain. “It’s more like… I’m scared of what people might—“

“I don’t wanna be with someone that’s scared of what people think—“

“Just let me talk.” You sighed, feeling your eyes sting. You’d never been good at articulating your feelings, especially not in this kind of situation. “I’m scared of what people might do because of what they think. It’s just… It’s better if it doesn’t look like we’re anything more than friends—“

“Okay, I’m gonna get off the phone—“

“Van—“

“No— Look… I see where you’re coming from, just… I know that’s not the reason you said it in the first place.” You didn’t argue, nodding despite the fact that she couldn’t see it. “If you want to, I’ll come over when you get home—“

“Okay,” you said all too quickly. “I’ll be home in two hours.” There was a long pause. “If you want to come.”

“Alright.” Click.

She came by that night, but when you tried to talk to her and smooth things over, she was short.

“Look,” she said. “I like you. I’m comfortable saying that.” You immediately shut your mouth and listened to what she had to say. “If you’re not comfortable admitting you don’t like guys. Or that you’re using your ‘boyfriend’ as a fucking beard, because you want me, that’s fine. I don’t care. I probably already knew that.” You nodded along. “But I don’t want to talk about it with you, because hearing you say it? That fucking hurt.”

“I’m sorry.” Van shook her head, dismissing it. “I really am afraid of what someone might do…”

“It’s not like I’d let anyone do anything to you,” she said, eyes narrowed.

“That’s not what I mean.” She sighed, waiting for you to explain. “I’m really not saying anything right in this conversation, I just… My point was that I’d leave him for you, and I was trying to ask you if, maybe, this could be more than this, because I don’t think you want me as more than a friend, so when I say ‘in a real way’ I mean, as more than…” You trailed off, narrowing your eyes at the bedsheets when you began to repeat yourself. “And… I wouldn’t cheat with a guy because—“

“Because you like girls?”

You looked up at her, lips pursed. “Why won't you answer my question?”

She tilted her head. “If we get together,” she started, “and I mean, actually get together. Not go to the mall and meet up at a store. Things are going to change. People will catch on, and they’ll treat you differently. I’m sure you know that, but I don’t think you’re ready for it. Especially not when you can’t even admit how you feel.” There was a long pause, her lips pursing. “Just stay where you’re safe,” she told you. “Stay with Mark. We can keep doing this— I like doing this— and you’re probably right. It’s probably better if people just think we’re friends, so…” She looked over at you, obviously still frustrated. “Why don’t we just move on?”

“Okay.”

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phnmnt · 1 year

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Shen Yuan shixiong AU - Part 24

New Roots

Ming Fan woke up to the sound of loud voices followed by a terrible screeching sound. He rubbed his eyes and clicked his tongue, annoyed that his rest was interrupted by a bunch of idiots who couldn’t keep it down after curfew.

“Shizun, we need to find an open area! The qi is hurting everyone!”

Hearing the familiar voice, Ming Fan instantly woke up, jumped out of bed, and ran to the door barefooted. He opened it, only to be washed over with an overwhelming unstable spiritual energy that made him weak in the knees. A group of people had stopped in front of his room, discussing urgently in loud voices to cover the terrible screeching coming from who knows where.

“Shen shixiong!”

One of the figures froze and turned to him with a pair of round eyes. It was Shen Yuan shixiong. He was finally back! Shen Yuan was about to open his mouth to answer when their shizun, who was accompanying him along with a varied group of people, cut right in.

“Ming Fan, stay here and make sure that nobody follows us. A-Yuan, follow me.”

Ming Fan, sensing like the situation truly was urgent, acknowledged the order with a nod and went to grab his boots by the bed in a hurry. As soon as he stepped outside, the group left immediately, leaving the space in front of the dormitory empty except for one person.

“Shimei?”

Ning Yingying smiled weakly as she watched the group disappear in the bamboo forest. Ming Fan noticed how paled she looked and went to offer his help. His shimei didn’t refuse, grabbing his arm with what little strength she had left. Some younger disciples came out of their rooms, confused and curious about what had happened. Ming Fan barked a few orders, sending them back inside, before sitting Ning Yingying on a stone bench by the moon gate at the entrance of the dormitories.

“Shixiong, don’t worry about me. I just need to catch my breath.”

Ming Fan squatted in front of her, studying her face with worry.

“What happened? What were you doing with shixiong’s group? And why are you…? Yingying, did you exchange patrol nights with someone again?”

Ning Yingying pressed a few of her chest acupoints with a frown. She gestured to give her a minute to recover before opening her mouth to explain.

“I’m sorry, shixiong. I did. I just… I missed Shen shixiong and Luo shidi so much. I wanted to be the first to greet them at the gate. And I couldn’t sleep anyway when I learned they were on their way back.”

“Yingying, that’s a whole week of patrol you just imposed on your body. How many hours did you sleep this week?”

“…Not as much as I should’ve.”

Ming Fan sighed, rubbing his eyes in exasperation.

“Shixiong, this shimei is sorry. But I promise I was fine! I was starting to feel a little tired, but nothing serious. It’s… this unstable qi. It was so strong. Even shizun didn’t look too good when he got closer to Noodle.”

Ming Fan blinked.

“Noodle?”

“Mn. Remember the last letter shixiong and A-Luo sent me? Noodle didn’t just get hurt.”

“Then, what’s happening?”

Ning Yingying looked in the direction the group had disappear.

“He’s about to become a dragon.”

“Over here!”

Shen Qingqiu had brought them to a big clearing deep in the bamboo forest, away from any form of human life. Shen Yuan ran to the middle, cradling the dusu snake that kept twisting in pain in his arms.

“Shh- It’s ok, you’re ok, you’re fine.”

Truthfully, Shen Yuan was trying to convince himself more than the poor dusu snake. He reached the middle of the soft grass field in a few long strides and knelt there. Luo Binghe followed closely, settling himself in front of him before using his spiritual energy to soothe the creature as much as he could.

The situation didn’t look promising. Shen Yuan’s sleeves were covered in small iridescent scales… and blood. He had studied dusu snakes for years without coming across any cases like this one. Very few among their species became dragons to begin with and it was near impossible to obtain a specimen about to transform. Shen Yuan felt powerless. He thought back on their trip and something finally clicked in his mind.

Noodle had cultivated too fast. They had fought so much and went to so many places full of spiritual energy…

Shen Yuan’s vision turned blurry. He wanted to apologize, but Noodle probably couldn’t hear him now. He pulled the dusu snake closer, hugging him to his chest. The latter’s current body wasn’t strong enough to undergo a dragon transformation and… he might…

Noodle suddenly went completely still. Shen Yuan looked down in panic, only to see a pair of now colorful eyes staring right back at him with complete trust. A small pitiful cry came from the creature, rooting his master to the place he had knelt.

Shen Yuan lifted his gaze to Luo Binghe who simply smiled at him calmly.

Standing at the edge of the open space, Shen Qingqiu’s patience was wearing thin. Why didn’t those two leave the snake? He himself couldn’t get close, the unstable qi made him nauseous and feel like he was going to faint. How strong did his disciples become to bear such a powerful unstable qi without flinching? Or was A-Yuan simply being unreasonable, forcing himself to stay with his pet?

“A-Yuan, you can’t stay there! A-Yuan!”

But Shen Qingqiu’s voice didn’t reach his prized disciple. The ground had started to shake, and wind enveloped the trio, creating a strong spiritual barrier in the middle of the forest glade. From it, Luo Binghe locked eyes with his shizun. Shen Qingqiu felt familiar and powerful emotions assaulting his senses, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. He hated this. Why couldn’t he get close? Why was he still so weak after all those years? Leaving him weaker than this- this Luo Binghe… Why?!

Noodle’s cries suddenly turned even more heartbreaking. Shen Yuan kept him close, tears streaming down his face as he repeated words of comfort to the dusu snake. It… wasn’t going well. He could feel Noodle’s life essence rapidly going out, slipping between his fingers. But if it was to be his old and first friend last moments, he wanted to accompany him to the end. He suddenly felt a pair of strong, youthful arms encircling him. Shen Yuan smiled despite the tears. His shidi didn’t have to accompany him to this extent. But he did. And he was immensely grateful for it. A gentle warmth spread from his heart, gently soothing his mind.

“A-YUAN!”

Still sitting in the middle of the forest glade, both disciples closed their eyes in unison as a harsh white light enveloped them. The gigantic amount of unstable qi was completely washed away in an instant, leaving only a strange electric atmosphere as the light blinded everyone at the scene.

A short moment passed before the light slowly receded, absorbed by something unknown. Soon after, the palpable charged energy followed.

Shen Yuan felt the weight in his arms disappear, ripping a whimper of desperation from his throat. He opened his eyes, intending to search for Noodle. As he did so, his retina was instantly drowned in an ocean of soft iridescent colors. For a moment, everything seemed to sit completely still, and only the gentle reflections of light dancing in the air like charming little pieces of crystal created an ocean of moving colors. Amidst the different waves, a pair of large reptilian eyes greeted his own calmly, the corner lifting in fondness when Shen Yuan stared back in surprise.

“…Noodle?”

The system’s voice, which he hadn’t heard for a long time, suddenly resonated in his head.

“Carapace ability : 50% damage reduction successful! Applied to user and their companions!” “Qing Jing Peak’s favor +50pts!” “Noodle’s favor +500pts!” “Noodle’s favor [ BONUS ] +???points to •••••••” “Protagonist’s halo compatibility with [*Noodle*] successful. +1000 ally points +0 shielding points!” “Completion of master-level quest +1500pts!” “New skills now available on the user skill tree!” “Congratulations! Please continue to work hard!”

But Shen Yuan wasn’t listening. His body refused to move, remaining frozen in face of the unfamiliar creature. A dragon.

Noodle released a short and sharp breath, ruffling his master’s hair from a distance. Shen Yuan jumped, not expecting the playful attitude from Noodle right after successfully cheating death. He swallowed with difficulty, his emotions still bouncing wildly around in his exhausted mind, and raised a trembling hand, reaching for Noodle’s new fluffy tail hovering above his head. “You’re… so big now.” Shen Yuan’s voice broke on the last syllable. Fat tears quickly filled his eyes, escaping in two seemingly never-ending streams which quickly drenched the collar of his clothes. “Y-You’re- You’re alive…!” He quickly let go of the tail to stand on his knees, throwing himself at Noodle who welcomed him in his embrace. The latter leaned on his master’s sobbing form with a soothing noise, something close to both purring and a low growl. Shen Yuan hid his face on the dragon’s body, both relieved that Noodle somehow survived the painful experience of turning into a dragon and embarrassed at how little he was able to restrain his emotions. Unbeknownst to him, Noddle met another pair of eyes. Luo Binghe silently stared back. Noodle then closed his eyes, bending his neck in a graceful arch as if he was bowing to the young man. Luo Binghe’s eyebrows shot up in shock when he heard two clear words echoing in his mind. “Thank you.”

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 8.5 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 -Part 14 - Part 15 - Part 16 - Part 17 - Part 18 - Part 19 - Part 20 - Part 21 - Part 22 - Part 23

#svsss #scum villian self saving system #luo binghe #shen yuan #sy shixiong au #phansdraws #back with the au in 2023!!!#hope yall enjoy it ♥

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pray4saint · 10 months

Text

sapnap taking the bdsm test

masterlist & descrip. rated r. 16+. online bdsm test.

you asked him to take the bdsm test after you'd gotten off facetime with your friends where you and your friends took the test

obviously you'd screenshotted the page because you knew he'd want to see your results

you text him first, asking him to come back to the bedroom (you'd kicked him out so you could talk to your friends) and once he'd lied down beside you on the bed you asked him to take it

”i haven't taken that test since like, senior year of high school..” your boyfriend trailed off, tucking his head into the pillows. you rubbed over his arm, ”so obviously your results would be different now.” ”baby-” ”please.” you gave him the eyes he just couldn't say no to. ”fine.” he reached for his phone.

he really didn't mind you looking over his shoulder while he took the test, he enjoyed being so close to you despite how personal some of those questions are

sometimes you'd glance at the group chat with your friends after someone had sent a picture or a distressing message and you'd text them back, giving sap a chance to zip through the embarrassing questions

once he'd finished, he gave you his phone so he didn't even see the results when you started reading them

(these are just my opinions!!)

coming in at 100% were dominant, pet, voyeur, switch & experimentalist

the high 90 percents consisted of submissive, rope bunny & slave, the mid and low containing kinks like brat tamer, rope bunny, and sadist

sapnap studied your face as you read down his phone, noticing how your cheeks would get pink and you'd make little gasps at certain terms and you smiled at the screen

the 80 percents held master/mistress, slave, degradee and primal (hunter)

everything below the 70 percents didn't really matter to you as much as everything above

the 70s had kinks like exhibitionist and primal (prey), making your tummy flip a little bit at the idea

”y'alright darlin'?” his hand rested over your stomach. ”mhm. you should read these.” you give his phone back to him, face flushed. sap began to read down the list, his face flushing right along with you. he looked a little perplexed at some but still, it was different than they were in high school.

he asked about your results, and you gladly showed him yours

all of a sudden, there was a whole new world opened up to you both

pray4saint© do not copy, translate or repost my work without my express permission.

#pray4saint #dteam #dream team #dsmp #mcyt #sapnap #sapnap x reader smut #sapnap smut #dream team smut #saint's nsf !!#ns.sap #dsmp smut #mcyt smut #dteam smut #mcyt x reader smut #dsmp x reader smut

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syngrafaes09 · 1 year

Text

I Can Help With That | Dr Strange x Y/N

“That is definitely a new strategy to pick up guys.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Never seen someone studying Fitzgerald’s neuroanatomy in a bar unless you have developed some new strategy to pick up brainy guys with that.”

Masterlist

Warnings: Little smutty

“I’m buying this place,” Tony announced as he drained another glass of whisky.

“You can’t,” Natasha hissed from his side. “You’ll only piss off Pepper more.”

Tony groaned and looked at Stephen, “Does this mean I can’t party at the tower nor buy myself a bar?”

Stephen smiled and nodded, sipping his martini.

“Can’t you do something to change her mind?”

“My god, Tony,” he exclaimed indignantly, “I can’t believe you want to use me for such petty purposes.”

“You are no fun doctor,” he mumbled and ordered another drink then glanced at the crowd. “How about I find someone to get you laid, and you help a little in return?”

Stephen shook his head. “I can get laid without your help. Besides I agree with Pepper, you indeed need to party less.”

“Oo look at them,” Tony discreetly pointed to a group sitting a little away from them, “those two are totally eye-fucking you.”

Stephen sighed and turned a bit to give them a quick glance. Not my type, he thought and finished his martini.

“Anyone thinking of hitting the dance floor? Thor asked, sliding off his stool, to no one in particular.

“I’m,” Tony and Natasha answered in unison, following suit.

“You are acting all grumpy today,” Tony complained before leaving, “just get laid, get things off your head and you’ll be fine as fuck. Oh look, one of them just left for the washroom.”

Tony wasn’t wrong. The recent attacks had left him spent. But he still wasn’t interested in sleeping with someone, not yet. After two shots of tequila, he handed over his card, waited a moment and walked towards the smaller section of the bar, the one with less loud music and small round tables.

That was when he noticed her. Technically, he noticed the book first.

“That is definitely a new strategy to pick up guys.”

She looked up from her reading. The perfect doe eyes. A beautiful dark shade of chocolate, swirling to blend into caramel at the iris. He suddenly forgot what he was supposed to do here.

“I’m sorry?”

It took him a second to say, “Never seen someone studying Fitzgerald’s neuroanatomy in a bar unless you have developed some new strategy to pick up brainy guys with that.”

“Not interested,” she frowned and continued reading from her book.

Had she outright rejected him? That too him?

Breathe, Y/N. breathe. She reminded herself as she tried to focus on the pathway of the spinothalamic tract. He might be all sexy with that voice and looks but that’s not going to help you pass the exam.

She sensed the chair beside her move, and soon he was staring at her like the tempting Lucifer.

“So you aren’t trying to pick up anyone?”

“No,” she replied, not daring to look at him. “I have lost my keys to my apartment. And my roommate is supposed to be here. So, here I’m waiting.”

“Why not enjoy yourself while you wait?”

She marked the page and put the book down, finally looking at him- she forgot what she was supposed to say. He was totally gorgeous and, as he had said, seemed ‘brainy’ with those white streaks. He raised one perfect thick eyebrow at her. What had he said? Something along the lines of enjoying, she guessed.

“I have got exams in a few weeks. So trying to make up for the knowledge I haven’t gained.”

Having got her attention he smiled at her. And she loved the way his orbicularis oculi produced those radiating lines at the lateral angle of his eyes, “And in what subjects are you lagging?”

Y/N reprimanded herself. She was going crazy. Nevertheless, she answered him, “Biochemistry and neurology.”

He nodded and glanced at her book. “I can help with that.”

“Excuse me?”

“I can help you with neurology,” he said, then added, “Only if you would like that.”

“Why? Are you the ‘brainy’ professor?”

“Not exactly, unless you consider a former neurosurgeon ‘brainy’ enough.”

Her jaw dropped. “I, uh,” she struggled to string her thoughts together. Great. He was not only gorgeous and sexy but also super intelligent. And she had fucked up well.

“I’m sorry. You’re absolutely ‘brainy’.”

He grinned. She felt her heart doing an erratic happy dance, “I would be more than grateful for your help, but I’m sure you are not here to pick up a student to tutor.”

“I wasn’t, sweetheart. What’s your name?”

Sweetheart? If she was going crazy then, now she would be certifiably insane. “Y/N L/N. And you might be - doctor?”

“Stephen Strange,” he replied and watched her eyes going as wide as they could.

“The Doctor strange?”

“Yes,” he laughed, “I’m the Dr Strange. So, would you like some help?”

She nodded.

“My place is nearby,” he tilted his head, “And this is hardly any place to study. Shall we?”

“Sure,” she murmured and stuffed the notes and book into her backpack.

“Do you fancy a walk? A cab? Or just a portal?”

“We can walk.” He nodded and held out a hand to her, which she took.

The walk was brisk and quiet as they hurried, heads down against the wind of the late night. She looked around the neighbourhood, realising she had passed them quite a handful of times while taking the late-night walks.

“My apartment is another few blocks away,” she said, after they settled on a couch beside the staircase, in front of a fireplace.

She watched him snap his fingers, and embers erupted in the fireplace. Showy, she thought as he settled next to her.

“Well, that sounds great, doesn’t it? You can visit me anytime you need my help.”

“There would be a next time?”

“Don’t you think there will be?” He asked, slightly disappointed. “Is this a one-night stand?” Common. Don’t be so desperate. Get a grip!

“I don’t know,” she shrugged her shoulders, “In time you’ll realise I’m not your type,” she gave out a nervous chuckle.

Cute. “And what do you think is my type?”

“Bold, sexy, graceful and… experienced?”

“I like cute, shy and naive as well.”

She was pretty sure her cheeks were red, and in no time her body was spontaneously going to combust into flames.

He reached out a hand and pushed her curly brown hair behind her ears. His hand skimmed across her neck, pausing at her pulse point, which had been going crazy ever since she met him. “Why don’t we get started? Weren’t you doing the tracts?”

Back to earth, Y/N.

He grinned, and his hand dropped. Her skin burned everywhere he had touched.

“Yeah,” she was immensely proud to conjure a reply.

By the end of the third hour, she was considerably tired.

He was explaining various cases of misdiagnosis of Parkinson’s he had seen when felt she couldn’t take any new information anymore. But she waited with forced patience for him to finish.

“Stephen, I don’t think I can study anymore.”

“I know,” he said, taking the book from her hand, and placing it on the coffee table. His coat jacket was long gone, and every flex of muscle under the fabric of his white shirt tossed her in a puddle of embarrassment and arousal. “Tea? Coffee or hot chocolate?”

Definitely coffee. She needed the caffeine to walk back- Her thoughts were lost as he rolled up his sleeves. Oh, those veins… those long, long fingers. She could feel her hormones having quite clearly their night out.

After he conjured them two cups of coffee, he heard a sharp intake of breath followed by an ‘Oh my God’.

“You know, you can stay the night here.”

Y/N gripped her cup tighter. What an attractive way to embarrass oneself in every possible way in a few hours! The sorcerer and mind-reader fact had completely slipped out of her mind.

“Just like a one-night stand?”

Stephen hummed. “Minus the sex part, if you wish.”

When she didn’t speak anything for a long minute, he spoke, “I wasn’t reading your mind the entire night, if that’s what you are upset about.”

“Very gentlemanly of you,” she said, sagging in relief.

Then he turned down the lights. It was dark with just the light from the fireplace. They talked about trivial matters, getting acquainted a little, her minor routine and his sorcerer duties.

“You’re a great teacher, you know?” she said, fishing her things into the bag.

“Really?” He grinned and she felt it shoot right into her stomach. Get a grip, she reminded herself.

“Yeah. you explained things in a better and easier way. I don’t think I would have been able to cover half of the topics-”

“Y/N,” he interrupted her, “I wasn’t looking for you to shower me with compliments. It’s just that I never thought of myself as much of a teacher in any field of work. I can teach myself but others - I'm not any good at that.”

“You underestimate yourself.”.

“Everyone who knows me a little would beg to differ.”

Sitting still for a minute, she watched him sip from his cup, she didn’t know what to say to that. “I should get going,” she said, finally getting up.

He frowned. Looked at his watch. And she noticed a flicker of disappointment in his features.

“It’s too late. But if you insist, I’ll walk you home.”

Y/N didn’t like the juxtaposition of reason and passion in her situation. She swallowed her nerves. “I guess I’ll stay then.”

He smiled, took her hand, and pressed his lips against the inside of her wrist. Her whole body shuddered. He pulled her back to the couch, then closer, until she was pressed against him. She felt all her organs dropping right on top of her uterus like all their supports were lost.

She looked at his lips. Tread lightly, he reminded his desires. “It could always be a one-night stand minus the sex,” he assured her.

She chuckled and rested her head on his shoulder, “I don’t mind the sex part.”

His eyelids fluttered when her hand came up close to his face. Hot fingers pressed into his burning skin as traced his jaw before settling on his chest. Oh god, he had forgotten what a touch could do.

“Besides, I ought to make it up to you to ruin your evening.”

Stephen’s eyes had darkened as he stared at her. Her breath hitched. Have I done something wrong?

“You didn’t ruin my evening. I was looking for a distraction.”

“I was certainly not the sort of distraction you were looking for.”

“You were definitely the distraction I didn’t know I needed. Talking about things that my life used to revolve around wasn’t morbid. It was refreshing. You don’t have to do this because you-”

He was cut short as she closed her mouth over his.

Stephen held her close with his free hand when she pulled away from the kiss. He carefully placed his cup down. Then kissed her again, slowly, deeply and tantalisingly. At that moment she felt the geometric sum of all her nerve endings going crazy.

He pulled away, ducked his head, and placed a hot kiss on her neck.

“Let’s go upstairs,” he stood and offered her his hand like before.

Y/N examined the bookshelves flanking the bed as Stephen peppered kisses on her neck. There were a few volumes of classical literature, few books of modern literature, some medical books and the rest - the bulk - of them, she guessed, were of sorcery.

His hands slipped under the sides of her shirt. Her back arched in response, however, he pulled her back to him, until they were plastered. She could feel every ripple of muscle even through the fabrics.

You are awesome, she reminded herself. Not insecure. A bit shy and inexperienced maybe. He had said he liked that. So no big deal.

But when his hands slid forward and downwards, she was super conscious of the little pudge that sat above her jeans. The dimpled flesh on her thighs. Work out regularly right from tomorrow.

Dying… Dying to taste every inch of her skin. He never thought he would get this desperate. He had wanted to take off their clothes slowly, dramatically, however, he snapped his fingers getting rid of them at once.

Y/N grasped at the sudden assault of cold air.

“I’m sorry,” Stephen said, whirling her around, “I’m a little too eager.” His hand reached up and weaved through her subtle curls as his lips moved hers.

Feeling the hard length of him poking her stomach, she moaned, giving him the perfect opportunity to slide his tongue and deepen the kiss.

She pulled away for a breath and he trained soft, wet kisses across her jaw, neck and chest before gently nibbling at her nipple. Her fingers tugged at his hair, a contented sigh escaping her lips.

Then they heard a noise. Three steady knocks on the bedroom door. “Strange,” the man bellowed. Another two knocks.

“What is it, Wong?” Stephen groaned. “Don’t come in.”

“Get in the bed,” he instructed her as he conjured a pair of sweatpants.

“I have been trying to reach you for the last twenty minutes. Why aren’t you answering the phone?”

“Because I haven’t heard it ring.”

She watched in frustration as he slid out of the room, closing the door behind him. Their voices grew dull.

Y/N waited. Ten minutes. Thirty. Then another hour. She glanced at the clock on the nightstand and sighed. It’s three in the morning. Maybe he’s not coming back.

Getting out of bed, she looked around for her clothes. She peeped into the foyer. Dead silence. Great! She was in a perfect stranger’s house all alone without clothes.

Continuum: Pivot

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do-i-look-like-a-doctor · 3 months

Text

okay but the Naruto universe is so fucking weird yet funny if you explain it and question it.

first, you have this lil orphan broke kid ninja boy named after a fishroll. then, you have an emo kid who acts like he got parents and a good way in life despite the fact he’s equally as much of an orphan as Mr. Broke-Blonde-Bitch. THEN you have this normal chick with pink hair who signed up for absolutely none of this nonsense yet got dragged into it. tell me why it’s these three against the world yet none of them can function together? it’s like watching ferrets hyped up on PCP fight over raw spaghetti noodles. dont even get me started when they were in school together, i can bet every person here 6 cents that at some point Sakura aka Ms. Fuckall got tired of Naruto and Sasuke’s bullshit and just tried to abandon them at an animal shelter.

speaking of school and general tomfoolery, why was the dude in charge of these three young squishy brained freaks the most depressed 20 something year old creature on the planet? i will admit, Kakashi is attractive and a great dude. he is so iconic, he misses his old team, and it’s clear he wanted best for his Group of Weird Children but he also reads porn all day and his mask probs smells like cheap aftershave.

if i was a 13 year old ninja child and i saw my sensai (who’s name sounds like cashew) doing all that i’d assume im either about to learn a sick ass skill (how to not cope with emotional trauma properly) or im about to get my ass handed to me. or im about to dropout.

back on track. so you’ve got orphan #1, orphan #2, Ms. Get-Me-Out-Of-Here, and Emotionally Repressed Man in one team. what do the kids do? beef for like 3048384 episodes. what does Kakashi do? try to teach them the power of friendship the entire damn series. oh, and let’s not forget that Naruto apparently has a demon fox inside him because of course he does.

anyways, once the team gets good at teaming they haul off to take their lil ninja exams. who do they meet? some kid named Gaara with smudged eyeliner and shaved brows. he’s a red-head, that’s cute. oh and he can control sand and tries to kill every child in the exams because his dad is a piece of shit hipster. who else do they meet? a kid named Rock Lee who can kick really hard, a girl named Tenten who wishes for all of us to stfu, and poor Neji who can’t keep doing this. there’s also some guy named Guy. yeah, the chunin exams nearly flop because Gaara doesn’t know how to act right.

all this is happening but the pivotal of it all? Sasuke decides to be extra emo and FUCKS OFF TO KILL HIS HALF BLIND SICKLY OLDER TWINK BROTHER.

then, Naruto decides he wants to harness his powers and FUCKS OFF WITH AN OLD ASS BUSHY HAIRED MAN WHO WRITES PORN. Jiraiya needs to be studied on a microscopic spiritual level. he is why SCP’s exist.

who let these kids out? i told you all not to feed the animals and look what happened. now theres beef between a group of kids and the akatsuki.

oh and the akatsuki?? don’t get me started. wtf is that. why is this group of fucked up people with weird powers who are being led by a ginger hive mind of corpses just wandering around? and why is Weasel, aka Itachi, in the middle of it with his goofy explosive hypnotic eyeballs? i want them all put down.

so you’ve got the evil eldirch horrors in the streets. thats fine. Naruto gets put into a new gang cuz Kakashi has to hospitalized. cool, whatever. Naruto decides to start hutning down his rogue boyfriend alongside Sakura, who became a sickass ninja doctor, along with his new sensei Yamato. wonderful… THEN SOME BITCH NAMED SAI SHOWS UP.

DO NOT GET ME STARTED.

what is that? why is it emo? why is its tongue tattooed? put it back outside bro i stg. i love him so much.

everything is just everywhere in this anime bro I can’t. Sasuke is no where to be seen, Naruto is doing fuckall across the world with his groupie, Kakashi is lowkey sad again cuz his kids are gone, and Sakura can barely breathe without issues occurring.

not just that but the twink brother named Weasel is being stupid and enables his own murder. yeah he basically wants Sasuke to come for his ass. meanwhile, Naruto comes home bigger, better, older but still broke and full of fox demon. still, not a single soul except his friends and teachers like him. shit gets even more wild, it becomes knock-off Cheetah Girls vs. The World.

girl i gotta go before i hurt someone. see yall in part 2.

(all of this is heavily unedited, apologies for mistakes)

#naruto #kakashi hatake #sasuke uchiha #itachi uchiha #sakura #yamato #slander #who fed the animals I stg #guys I love this anime plz don’t come for me #yapping #part 2 might be tn or tomorrow idk #uchiha sasuke #uchiha itachi #uchiha obito #hatake kakashi

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starsstuddedsky · 2 years

Text

If You Call Me

gn reader x seokmin

summary: choosing to be partners with the soccer player in your science gen ed was bound to be a mistake, but when he insists on bringing you gifts to compensate for the notes you always share with him, you decide it means war. who will win this battle of kindness? and will you ever know if the feelings you have developed will be returned?

genre: fluff, university au, sports au, sunshine x sunshine?, non idol au

warnings: food mentions, existential crisis

wc: 7.9k

a/n: the second installment of this mini series! I’ve been sort of insane writing this in like 2 days but uh enjoy - also if ur a soccer player reading this. sorry. i tried.

title: If You Call Me - P1harmony

masterlist

I glared at the boy sitting across from me. I wouldn’t let him win, no matter how much he smiled at me.

“You gave me the notes when I had to miss class!” He said, pushing the drink closer to me. It would have been fine if that was the full truth. But we were a month into the fall semester and this was the eighth time he’d done this. Over half of the time that I showed up to our group project meetings I was greeted with a drink or a snack or something too incredibly sweet from Seokmin.

“It’s really not that big of a deal,” I said. “It’s not like you’re skipping on purpose, plus if you aren't caught up then it’s kind of hard to work on the project.”

“Well, even if the notes aren’t a big deal to you, you still adjusted your schedule to mine for these meetings. For 9 in the morning,” he said. “Drink it before the ice melts and it gets all watery.”

“I told you I’m a morning person.” I sighed, taking a sip of the drink, perfectly sweet and refreshing. “This is the last time I accept your kindness without retaliation.”

“Wow you really are an English major,” he said, opening his laptop.

“I mean it!” I said. “This is war, and I will not lose.”

“I look forward to this,” Seokmin said. “Even though you are definitely going to lose. Now, are we going to study or are you too busy planning my downfall?”

“First of all, it’s a battle of kindness,” I said. “And actually I really want to do anything but study today.”

Seokmin glanced around us. “You do know this is a study room, right?”

“I doubt we would be the first people to use this for other purposes,” I said, then realized how it sounded. “I mean, we probably aren’t the only people to not study in a study room. Like, watch a movie, or whatever. Not not study. Not… that.”

Seokmin sat back, folded his arms and grinned, clearly enjoying himself. “Not what?”

I smacked his arm, trying to stop my face from getting redder.

“Fine, if you really don’t want to study, then I’m going to review tape,” he said, tapping quickly at his keyboard until he pulled up footage from their games. Seokmin played for the school’s soccer team as a midfielder. That was pretty much everything I knew about soccer. Despite my lack of knowledge, it was fun to watch along with Seokmin as he played the tape from their latest game. It had been an intense match, according to Seokmin, going into overtime with the other team being really aggressive.

He skipped to show me the “good” parts. “Watch,” he said, following a figure with his finger. They were running down the field with the ball, heading towards the goal for our team. A defender, number nine, stepped up to push back on the other player. The player from the other team swung his leg back and then slammed it into the defender’s shin, causing him to cripple to the ground, while the other player took a (successful) shot on the goal.

“That can’t be legal,” I said. “He straight up kicked him!”

“And just like that you’re more competent than the referee we had last night,” Seokmin said. “But just wait, it gets worse.”

He skipped even further, near the end of the second half, where one of our players was about to get a shot on the other team's goal, when he was taken off his feet by the other team, a shoulder slammed into his chest. He hit the ground and didn’t move for a few scary seconds.

“Oh my god, is he okay?” I turned to Seokmin.

“He is doing surprisingly amazing, all things considered,” Seokmin said. “It looks a lot worse than it was. He didn’t even have any lasting bruises.”

I frowned. “I thought soccer was supposed to be a noncontact sport.”

“I mean there technically is some contact since there’s no actual barriers between us,” Seokmin said. “But stuff like that is totally illegal.”

“Has anything like that ever happened to you?”

Seokmin grinned. “Of course! This one time this guy got mad at me for scoring on him, so in the next play he literally just swung at my head. In high school, this guy tried to body slam me like what happened to Chan the other night, and bounced off of me.”

“You’re a little too excited about all of this,” I said. I glanced at him, scanning his body for bruises or vestiges of being beaten up. There wasn’t anything other than a few bruises on his legs. Not for the first time, I noticed how muscular his arms were, even though he was sitting relaxed.

“Are you done staring?” Seokmin asked.

I turned back to the screen immediately, resting my cheek on my hand and hoping he didn’t notice how red I was for the second time today. “I wasn’t staring,” I mumbled. I didn’t even convince myself.

Seokmin had the decency to move on, restarting the video from the beginning to actually analyze it. It was funny to watch him study the videos, especially compared to when we studied for class together. He was scribbling down notes, pausing and rewinding, actually paying attention. My plans for the study session mainly included scrolling on my phone, but I found myself watching over his shoulder, trying to decipher his notes.

“What are you doing?” He asked without looking up.

I shrugged. “Anything but my homework.”

He paused the match, sitting back from his laptop to study me for a moment. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I really don’t,” I said, curling up in my chair.

“Okay,” Seokmin said. He handed me the drink I had forgotten, staring at me until I took another sip. “Would you rather listen to boring soccer analysis?”

“Please.”

I wandered around the bakery, stepping up to the glass and studying each of my possible choices. It was my first time trying to win against Seokmin, and I was just realizing how difficult it was. Between the multitudes of choices and my limited knowledge of Seokmin’s tastes, I would be lucky to find something that he liked.

How had Seokmin learned my tastes? We’d gone to the cafe together for our first couple study sessions, but even if he’d been paying attention to what I’d ordered, he hadn’t ever brought me the same drink twice, and had never brought me either of the drinks I’d ordered those days. Yet he also hadn’t ever gotten me anything I disliked.

I decided I had to choose between the lemon tart and the giant macarons. I stood at the glass, studying each of them, trying to taste each of them in my mind, wishing I’d paid more attention to what Seokmin ate the last time we came here. I finally chose the lemon tart when I realized the cashier wasn’t asking if I’d decided yet because she was being nice, but because I was holding up the line.

I held it up to the sun as I walked toward the library, deciding I had made the right choice. Maybe it was the food coloring, but the bright yellow somehow reminded me of Seokmin. There was something about him that I couldn’t name, but I blamed it as the reason that I started thinking of him every time something made me smile.

I got to the room first, checking in with the librarians who were starting to recognize me. For over a month I had been meeting with Seokmin in the study room, and since it was such an awkward time, at nine in the morning, reserving the room was rarely necessary.

I settled in, opening my laptop and skimming the assignment list. The first part of our project was due in a couple days, and while we’d been good at staying on task in the first few study sessions, the productivity had decreased with each one. I ended up watching the game with Seokmin the entire hour last week.

Seokmin had lifting at the ugly hours of the morning and then an 8 am right after, so it wasn’t uncommon that he was late. What made me suspicious was that he had never once been on time when he was bringing me something.

As I expected, he walked in at 9:07, with a bakery container in hand. He sat down across from me, eyeing the box I held.

“Last chance to back out,” he said. “Are you sure you’re ready for war?”

I tried to keep a straight face but I couldn’t handle the full strength of his smile, crumbling and letting my own smile win. “Are you ready?”

“On the count of three?”

I nodded and he counted down. On three, we both flipped our containers around, and burst into laughter. In Seokmin’s box was a bright yellow lemon tart.

I slid mine across the table to him as he did the same. “For the record, I bought it first, so I think it’s a win for me,” I said. I cut a small piece away with the spoon that he’d also brought, taking a bite of the breakfast dessert.

Seokmin smiled. “I’m actually not the biggest fan of lemon,” he said. I stopped chewing. “I hate to turn down a gift, but I really don’t usually eat this. If only there was someone who loved lemon so much they’d eat two lemon tarts for breakfast.”

I glared at him. There was no way I was going to accept the second tart. “You’re lying. Who doesn’t like lemon?”

“Lemon in things is fine! But lemon flavored dessert? I don’t want my desserts to attack me,” he said. “Lemon is always so strong.”

I shrugged, pushing away the tarts, not wanting to look at the evidence of my embarrassing defeat. “We actually need to be productive today. The first assignment for the project is due this weekend, but we should probably get it done now since you have a tournament this weekend.”

I looked up to find Seokmin staring at me.

“What? Am I wrong?”

“Did you look up my schedule?”

“No! Well, I mean yes, but only to see what days you were busy,” I said.

“You should come to a game,” he said. It wasn’t the first time he’d invited me. On the first day of class, he introduced himself and told everyone to come to a game. At the first study session he told me again, but each time it felt more like an obligation to represent the team rather than an actual invitation.

Not like now, where he was watching me, clearly expecting a response.

“I’ll have to look at my schedule,” I mumbled, turning back to my computer.

“Come to a game, it’ll be fun, I promise!” I glanced up to see his lips pressed together in a pout.

“I think maybe I might be free on Saturday,” I said. “I’ll see if I can come to one of the games then.”

I thought Seokmin was about to hug me with how excited he was, literally cheering despite the fact that it was nine in the morning. He slid his chair closer to mine, bringing the lemon tarts next to my computer.

“Now, how do you feel about double breakfast?”

“There’s no way I’m going to eat the gift I got for you,” I said. “And I was serious about the project, we need to get it done unless you want to be working on it between games.”

“You’re going to let a perfectly good pastry go to waste because of pride?” Seokmin sighed. “I thought you cared about my feelings more than that.”

“Can you stop being dramatic and work on the project?” I elbowed him in the side, then regretted it when I remembered that he probably had bruises from someone doing the same thing only ten times more aggressively. “Sorry, that was dumb.”

“It’s okay.” Seokmin’s smile could have made a dead man smile. “You can make it up to me by eating this tart.”

Saturday morning came and I woke up feeling strange. Maybe it was because I couldn’t fall asleep the night before, tossing and turning, overthinking going to the game. I hadn’t seen Seokmin since class on Thursday, where he continued to gloat about his tart victory (I caved and ate the second one only because the class was environmental science and I didn’t want to contribute to food waste). I had gotten used to seeing Seokmin on Tuesdays and Thursdays for our study sessions and then class later in the day, but why did I find myself now counting down until I saw him again?

I laid in bed for a few minutes trying to determine if my stomach felt strange because of the tacos I made the night before or if it was just nerves. When I sat up, I immediately sprinted to the bathroom, barely making it before throwing up everything I ate the night before.

I curled up on the bathroom floor, leaning against the toilet. It was definitely not nerves. After thirty minutes of a horrible mixture of dry heaving and throwing up, I crawled back into bed, head pounding, wanting nothing more than to fall asleep and never wake up.

My sleep was restless, and the second time I woke up was marginally better. My stomach was already sore from throwing up and my body felt like it had been hit by a truck, but at I didn’t feel nauseous anymore. I checked the time and cursed when I realized I had already missed the first game. There was no way I could leave bed; thinking about crossing the apartment to get a glass of water was a herculean feat. I still found myself trying to work up the motivation to sit up.

I sent Seokmin a quick text in apology. I didn’t expect a response, but a couple minutes later, he wrote back.

seokmin! (group project): dont worry about it!!!! feel better <3 and drink lots of water and try to get some rest! :))

I felt even worse that he was being so nice about it. Or maybe I just wanted to see him. I pouted, until I remembered that our university livestreamed the games. The next game was supposed to start in a couple minutes, which made me wonder if Seokmin had been texting me when he shouldn’t have been.

When I pulled up the livestream link, they had just finished warmups, both teams spreading out on opposite sides of the field in a line as the announcers went over the lineup for both teams. I didn’t realize how many formalities the sport entailed. I guess I didn’t really know that much about sports in general, since no one in my family had any interest in them. My friends convinced me to go to a football game once in high school, but majority of the appeal for students was pregaming and partying, neither of which enticed me. It ended up being a boring, uneventful night, and our team didn’t even win.

According to Seokmin, our soccer team was having an unprecedented season, with only one loss (that he said was because the referees made terrible calls). He said something about having really good defense, and this freshman who was incredible. The real reason, apparently, was that some major drama had finally been resolved last year. He didn’t elaborate any further, and I had the feeling I shouldn’t push him on it.

When the lineups were over, they spread out across the field. I could see some pattern with how they were arranged, the teams almost reflecting each other. I picked out Seokmin surprisingly easily. The way he held himself was different, shoulders back, relaxed. It helped that he was clearly joking around with another of the players, getting pushed to the side as the timer counted down to the start of the game.

As soon as the game started, he changed. He still looked relaxed, but there was a seriousness to him that I only ever saw when he was doing something related to soccer. I mostly followed the ball, watching as Seokmin weaved between players of either team, sometimes with the ball, passing it back and forth with another of his teammates. They went back and forth many times, sometimes we had the ball, sometimes the other team, neither of them scoring, until Seokmin and one of his teammates were passing the ball back and forth, moving down towards the other side of the field. Seokmin gave a hard kick to one of the players that was ahead of him, who danced around one of the other teams defenders then swung back and sent the ball perfectly into the other team's goal.

Seokmin threw his arms into the air and even though there was no audio, I could hear his cheer, sprinting to the other player who made the goal and wrapping him in a hug that lifted the smaller boy off his feet for a couple seconds. I realized at some point I had started grinning.

There were only a few minutes left in the first half. I found myself captivated by the game as one of our players got the ball from the other team before they could try to kick it into our goal, sending it halfway across the field to where Seokmin was waiting. There weren’t very many of the other team back that far, and Seokmin and another teammate passed the ball back and forth and moved down the field with ease. This time it was Seokmin who got a shot off. I held my breath as the other goalie made a dive for the ball, but he was a little too slow and the ball made it past him.

Seokmin broke into a cheer again, half the team tackling him. They reorganized quickly, only a few seconds of the first half remaining. Once the timer ran out, they were chaos again, hugging Seokmin and the other player who scored, not letting them collapse onto the bench until they’d all given him a high five or smacked his back.

I fully intended on watching the second half, but until it started, I figured I could let my eyes rest.

The next thing I knew, I woke up to my phone ringing.

“Hello?” I mumbled, answering without checking the caller ID, my eyes barely open.

“Hey, what’s your address?”

“Seokmin?” I frowned. Everything in my head felt a little sticky.

“Sorry, did I wake you up?”

“No,” I mumbled.

“Are you sure?”

“I mean, you woke me up, but it’s fine,” I said. I wondered if I was really awake or if I was dreaming. It felt like I was dreaming.

Seokmin sighed through the phone. “I really didn’t mean to disturb your rest, though I got a little worried when you didn’t answer my texts.”

That’s sweet, I thought. At least I thought it was in my head, until Seokmin laughed.

“Now, what’s your address?” He asked.

“You can’t come here!” I said. “I’ll get you sick!”

“If I promise not to come without your explicit permission, will you give me your address?”

I was too tired to argue with him, so I just gave him my address.

“Thank you,” he said. “You should get some rest, but I’m going to call you again later, okay?”

“Okay,” I said, trying to remember why I was awake.

“Sweet dreams,” was the last thing I heard before drifting off back to sleep.

When I woke for the fourth and final time that day, it was not to his phone call, but the doorbell. I dragged myself out of bed, surprised that I felt stable walking to the door. When I opened it, there was no one there, but a delivery bag was sitting on my placemat. I brought it inside, setting it on the table. On the receipt, it said Name: Lee Seokmin. I frowned.

The phone call hadn’t been a dream? I dug through the blankets in my bed, finally finding my phone completely dead. I plugged it in, waiting for it to turn on. There were ten messages from him and two missed calls. I immediately felt guilty, opening the messages to find everything from are you okay? to if you don’t answer the next time i call i’m calling 911.

me: i’m sorry! my phone died!!!

seokmin! (group project): YOURE ALIVE

seokmin! (group project): i wasn’t joking about calling 911 btw

me: you’re kinda dramatic

seokmin! (group project): says the one that almost died

me: i��m fine!! it was just some food poisoning i think

seokmin! (group project): did you get the food???

I opened the bag to find a bowl of soup, the broth still warm, ready to be poured into the noodles and vegetables.

me: i did, thank you!!! you really didn’t have to do this though!

seokmin! (group project): you think i’m going to take it easy on you just because your sick?

seokmin! (group project): THIS IS WAR!

me: you’re*

seokmin! (group project): im blocking you

I grinned, pouring the soup and feeling better by the second.

me: fine you win today but i’m still not giving up

seokmin! (group project): it’s like 7-0 are you sure?

me: shut up

me: also!!!! you did so good today!!

seokmin! (group project): i thought u were sick??

me: i watched the livestream!

me: actually it was like.. half of it, i kinda fell asleep. that’s why my phone died

me: BUT I SAW YOU SCORE!

seokmin! (group project): i feel honored, no one has ever watched me on their deathbed

me: does this mean we’re tied????

seokmin! (group project): … only because i’m worried you’ll pass out from shock if i say no

me: i’m feeling fine now!!!!

seokmin! (group project): eat the soup and be happy that you tied today

me: <3333333

I set my phone down, taking another bite of the soup. Yet again, Seokmin was able to order me something I loved, despite never actually going out to eat with me. He must have been some kind of secret mind reader.

I pulled my knees to my chest, thinking about him. He was nice, too nice, like a cupcake topped with too much frosting that made me giddy with a sugar high. I pulled up the picture of him from our athletics page, grinning in his soccer uniform. The other players had serious faces, or smiles that were clearly for the camera. Only Seokmin was grinning as if he’d just told a joke and was waiting for everyone else to laugh. Just looking at him smiling was enough to make me smile.

Oh no. I quickly closed out of the picture, tossing my phone back down, but it was too late. Maybe it was the post-sickness exhaustion and when I woke up I would realize how silly I was being. Or maybe the post-sickness exhaustion was enough to finally make me admit my feelings to myself.

I liked Seokmin.

I was definitely not nervous. I sat in the study room, determined not to tap my fingers, or bounce my leg, or do anything that might indicate that I was nervous because I was most definitely not nervous. It was just a study session, a regular study session, and nothing had changed, there had been no life changing revelations whatsoever.

Seokmin arrived exactly at 9, for the first time ever. Despite how I felt while waiting, as soon as he walked through the door I was at ease. Maybe it was his smile, which enveloped me like a hug, or maybe it was just him, but I couldn’t help looking at him and feeling like everything was… right.

“Good morning!” He said, setting down a hot drink in front of me. Even though it was early October, most days it was still warm out, and definitely not cool enough to warrant hot drinks.

I slid my drink to him in a defensive maneuver. It wasn’t my best move, since it was the same iced coffee he’d ordered when we went to the cafe the first time we met, but at least I was guaranteed he would like it.

He raised his eyebrow but accepted the drink, sliding the steaming cup towards me. “It’s ginger lemon tea,” he said. “It might not be the tastiest, but you were sick.” He was seriously the sweetest person I had ever met.

“Thank you,” I said. “Though I told you it was just food poisoning and I’m fine now.”

He shrugged. “Sentimental caring, I think that means I win yet again. I didn’t even have to use my cheat card. I thought this was supposed to be hard.”

He might have gotten me with the teasing before, but I had come prepared today. He paused at my smile as I dug through my backpack, pulling out my most prized possession. My copy of Pride and Prejudice, with nearly ten years worth of annotations and notes, half the pages covered in sticky notes. I set it on the table in front of him.

“Pride and Prejudice?” He read the title. “Is that based on Pride and Prejudice and Zombies?”

I started to laugh, before I realized he wasn’t joking. “Seokmin, that movie is based on the book.”

“That makes so much more sense,” he said. “I can’t believe I’ve never heard of it.”

“You’ve never heard of Pride and Prejudice?”

“I mean, I watched the zombie movie. It was pretty good, actually,” Seokmin said.

I wasn’t sure how to respond for a long moment. Seokmin picked up the book, glancing at the sticky notes.

“It’s my annotated copy,” I said. “I got it for my tenth birthday and I’ve read it at least once a year ever since. It just never gets old- like every time I read it I get something new. It’s been foundational for how I think about myself and romance and what I want in a partner.”

Seokmin paused. “And what is that?”

“Well, you should read it and see what you think,” I said, laughing at his groan. “You didn’t think it would be that easy did you?”

He picked up the book again, and I didn’t miss how gently he flipped through the pages, turning them one by one without damaging the pages or my notes. Maybe this wasn’t the right gift for him. I thought about it and realized I had never actually seen him reading a book. Maybe this was too much pushing myself onto him, forcing him into something that I liked.

“I will read this entire book if you watch Pride and Prejudice and Zombies with me right now,” he said, setting it down. “Cover to cover, every word, every little scribble.”

“It doesn’t work like that! It’s a gift, I’m not forcing you to read it!”

“I want to read it,” Seokmin said. “I just also need you to watch the movie.”

“We’re in a study room.”

“We can always do other things.” He winked and I turned to my backpack, digging through to find my laptop.

“We should work on the project,” I mumbled, avoiding his eyes.

“Come on,” he said, tugging on the sleeve of my jacket. “We just turned in part of the project, we don’t have to do work.”

“Technically we could study,” I said. I watched him pout out of the corner of my eye, fingers still playing with the fabric of my jacket.

“Fine,” I said. “Just for today.” Seokmin cheered and I wondered if that was what he sounded like when they scored a goal. I had already promised him I would go to the next game that I could, but I realized that I really wanted to know what he sounded like.

“You won’t regret it, I promise, it’s actually a good movie!”

“Does this mean I win today”? I smiled, confident in my victory. I settled back in my chair as Seokmin pulled up the movie. He turned to his backpack, and I thought he was just getting his charger for his laptop, but when he turned to face me, he held something in his fist. He gestured for me to hold out my hand. When I did, he opened his fist, dropping a tiny, beaded bracelet into my hand.

“It’s handmade,” he said. “Not by me, because I suck at this. My teammate was making them because he may or may not be dating someone, it’s weirdly unclear, but I begged him to make one for you too, but don’t worry I picked out the colors, so I contributed!”

I stared at it in my hand, alternating yellow and white beads with a smiley face and some flowers interspersed in between and right in the middle, a bigger white bead that had a giant black heart in the middle. It doesn’t mean anything, I told myself over and over and over again.

“You don’t have to wear it or anything,” Seokmin said. “I don’t want you to think of it as a burden or anything, and if you don’t like it-”

“I love it,” I said, slipping it onto my wrist and flashing him a smile that he returned in an instant.

“Really?” He asked, the smile somehow translating to his voice.

I nodded, running my fingers over the beads. “Really.”

“That looks like another win for Seokmin,” he said, ignoring how I gaped at him and turning back to turn on the movie.

I couldn’t stay upset at him for long, especially not when I looked at my wrist. I still couldn’t decide what his intentions were; sometimes I was sure that he was flirting but then I would wonder if it was just wishful thinking. A bracelet like this was cute but he hadn’t even made it and for all I knew he didn’t realize how giving jewelry as a gift could be considered flirting. Maybe I was being the weird one for overthinking this gift. Besides, he was an athlete, he was probably just really competitive.

I ran my fingers over the beads and came to a decision. Overthinking it wasn’t going to solve anything. I had no way of knowing unless I asked Seokmin, but until I was ready for that, I was just going to have to settle for living somewhere in between.

I relaxed in the chair a little, letting my head rest on his shoulder lightly at first, then completely when he leaned into me, sliding our chairs a little closer together. I glanced at my wrist and this time I smiled.

“You have to admit that it was a good movie,” Seokmin said. For the first time, we walked into the library together. We had run into each other in the cafe and ordered while staring each other down. We agreed to call it a draw for the day.

“I will admit that it was better than I expected,” I said. It wasn’t technically true, I had actually rather enjoyed the movie, but I wasn’t going to let him win so easily, especially not when I had yet to win a battle in this war.

“You enjoyed it, I saw you smiling,” he said. He held the door for me as we entered the library.

I shook my head. “I was just happy we weren’t studying.” We reached the librarian desk and I asked for our regular room.

“Sorry,” the woman said. “All the rooms are booked.”

“Seriously? It’s nine in the morning!”

She shrugged. “It’s midterm season.”

I turned to Seokmin after thanking her. We stepped away, but the library was packed, study groups very loudly not studying, people with headphones that clearly didn’t want to be disturbed, and everything in between. I realized I had taken our beloved little study room for granted as I looked at the chaos that was the rest of the library.

“Do you want to study here?” Seokmin asked. I could tell he was as excited by this idea as I was. I shook my head and we walked back out together. I would have suggested we study outside, but the weather had decided to be aware it was fall, and I was shivering through all of my layers.

We walked toward the science building since they had just redone it and the chairs were the only ones on campus that were under ten years old. Seokmin was a few inches away from me but the distance felt like miles, especially in this cold. I didn’t think he noticed, but halfway across the quad he was pulling off his jacket, offering it to me.

“Aren’t you cold?” I asked.

“Athletes run hot blooded.” He stuck it over my arms but because of my backpack, he had to do it backwards. I instantly felt warmer, the heat from his body still clinging to the fabric. I caught a whiff of his laundry detergent, a scent I couldn’t name but smelled distinctly clean, as he pulled the jacket as high up as he could. He stepped away in his T-shirt, but I caught a glimpse of the bare skin of his arms.

“I can see your goosebumps, let’s go inside,” I said, grabbing his hand through the sleeve that had been a little too long for my arms and tugging him down the path. I didn’t let go of his hand until we arrived at the science building and even then I was reluctant to see his hand drop from mine. We warmed up quickly in the heat and I handed him his jacket back.

“Hang onto it,” he insisted. “It can be my gift for today.”

I hoped I didn’t show any signs of the sinking heart I felt on the inside. “Well now I’m definitely not taking it.”

“Well neither am i.” He folded his arms. “Besides, it looks better on you.” He turned away, walking up the stairs and I had no choice but to follow, jacket in my arms. My heart was doing acrobatics as I tried not to overthink the compliment. He was just trying to get me to take the jacket.

We finally found a secluded room in a corner that said ‘Silent Room,’ but was barely big enough for two people and had a door, so we figured we wouldn’t bother anyone by talking. It was filled with old chemistry books that had so much dust I doubted they’d ever been touched. I sat next to Seokmin on the tiny bench, just barely not touching. I pulled out my laptop, trying very hard not to think about how if I leaned just a tiny bit to the side, I’d be brushing against his arm.

I groaned when my reminders popped up, laying my head on the table.

“What’s wrong,” he asked.

“My mistakes are coming back to bite me in the ass,” I said. “Can’t I just drop out?”

“Do you want to vent or do you want actual advice?” He asked. I turned to look at him, my cheek pressing against the wood.

“I want to never write this essay.”

He laughed and patted my head a couple times, distracting me for a moment by making my heart flutter. “I think you chose the wrong major for that.”

“It’s not essay writing in general,” I explained, sitting up and sighing. “It’s this essay that I don’t want to write.”

“Does this have anything to do with your lack of motivation to do work last week?”

I pulled my lips together in a pout. “Why do you have to be so perceptive?”

“It’s one of my charms,” he said with a smile that quickly faded, brow furrowing, eyes trained on me. He was… worried? “Do you want to talk about it today?”

“Not really,” I said. “But it’s sort of due tomorrow.”

“Have you started it?”

I shook my head.

“Do I want to know how long it is?”

“Probably not.”

“Should we even be studying today? Shouldn’t you work on your essay?”

I shook my head. “The whole point of studying is that I get to do something productive while avoiding my problems.”

“That doesn’t sound right, but I’ve worked out instead of doing my homework, so I don’t think I can really argue with you,” Seokmin said. “But seriously, is it hard? Is it a research paper or something?”

“No, it’s a personal reflection.”

“Aren’t those usually really easy? Like, you can just sort of write whatever, they can’t dock points because you’re weird.”

“It’s more about actually writing it.” He looked confused, so I added, “The prompt is about who you want to be, and I don’t know, it’s like most of the time I don’t really know the answer to that, it’s hard enough to know who I am now, and I don’t really particularly want to have an identity crisis for an essay that’s for a 100 level class, you know?

“Sometimes I don’t feel like I deserve to be here, like my application got switched or something and I’m not actually qualified to be here and I know it’s sort of dumb, and sometimes I really feel like I’m doing well, but writing an essay that asks me to think about my future sort of feels like torture.” I was staring at the wood of the table, the places where people had scribbled onto the desk curse words, doodles, their lovers names (and a lot of dicks).

“Just write about that, then,” Seokmin said. I raised my head to meet his eyes and he was serious. “Write about your indecisiveness, how you don’t know what you want, and all of that fun existential stuff.” I chewed on my lip, contemplating his suggestion. It would probably work, and definitely would be easier than trying to actually think of an answer to the prompt.

“It would work, right?” Seokmin asked and I realized I’d been quiet for too long.

I nodded slowly. “Probably.” I paused. “Thank you.”

He shrugged. “You were kind of overthinking the whole thing, I think. Like, I know it’s scary to think about the future, but I don’t think your professor expects a full on step by step plan from a 19 year old either. Also.” He paused, as if he wasn’t sure he should continue. “Yn, you are incredibly smart. Don’t ever think that you don’t belong.”

“Thank you,” I said, voice barely louder than a whisper.

“I meant it,” he said, dropping his head, as if he just remembered to be shy. “Hey, if you write the essay about that, does that mean I win today?”

“Is it all just a competition to you?” I asked before I could stop myself. I frowned at him. I had already said it, I might as well commit. “Seokmin, I don’t get you.”

“Yn-”

“I have to write the essay,” I said, grabbing my bag and stuffing my laptop into it. I ran away before he could say anything else. I shivered in the cold as I left the building, not sure if I was hoping he would chase after me or he would leave me alone. I realized I was still holding his jacket but there was no way I was going back now. I held it against my chest, wondering what I had just done.

It wasn’t fair of me to blow up on him like that, but I was tired of this back and forth. Every time I was sure he was flirting, he brought up the competition and I couldn’t tell what was real anymore. I knew that when I was with him he made everything feel like it was going to be okay. I was now beginning to realize how much it would hurt if he didn’t feel the same way.

I fiddled with the jacket, running my fingers over the embroidered Lee Seokmin #10. I had to work up all of my courage to get up on Saturday morning and drag myself to the soccer field. Despite the fact that I hadn’t spoken to Seokmin since that morning and I had ignored his texts and calls since, I had promised to go to the game. I wasn’t going to break that promise, not because of the competition, but because it was a promise.

I sat in the bleachers, tugging his jacket tighter on my shoulders. I had brought it with every intention of giving it back, but it was a lot colder than I expected, and I found myself wrapping it around my shoulders a couple minutes after sitting down.

It was an early game, so there weren’t many people in the stands. Most of them were bundled up and huddled together against the wind. I sat alone, wishing I’d invited a friend. The problem was, the person I wanted to invite the most was on the field.

There was a bunch of cheering from my side as they announced the lineup, and I realized half of the school’s volleyball team was in the bleachers. I supposed teams supporting each other probably wasn’t uncommon. I was the last to know whether this was abnormal or not.

I didn’t know enough about soccer to really know what was going on. As the game started, I followed the excitement of the crowd, which had perked up a little at the volleyball team’s cheering. It was fun to watch, and it would have been better than when I watched the livestream if it wasn’t so cold. I was shaking by the end of the first half, though jumping up and cheering when they scored a goal had helped a little. If they just kept scoring goals, maybe I would stay warm.

The second half was more intense, the other team trying hard to score as our team scored again, and then again. They finally got a goal in during the last ten minutes, but it was too late, and the final score was 3-1.

The cowardly part of me wanted to run away as soon as the game was over but I had been avoiding him for too long, and it was too late because he was sprinting across the field as soon as they were done shaking hands, waving at me. I took a deep breath. There was no escape now. I stepped down from the bleachers, meeting him at the fence that came up to my waist.

“Hi,” I said, wishing I could be a little more confident.

“I didn’t think you’d come.” He didn’t seem upset, glancing at my shivering.

“I-”

“Seokmin!” One of his teammates shouted. “Let’s go!” The rest of the team was grouped together at their bench with the coach in some post game meeting.

“Wait for me,” he said. “Please.” Then he sprinted across the field, making it fast enough that I was impressed. I rubbed my fingers together, trying to make sure the circulation didn’t die, then made sure my toes were still intact. How did the weather change so quickly?

The meeting was only a couple minutes long but I lost Seokmin in the throng of soccer players. It was even harder to pick him out when I realized they had all pulled on layers over their jerseys. He was halfway across the field, bag bouncing on his shoulder, before I realized it was him.

I should have been more nervous, but mostly I was too cold to let it affect me anymore. I had spent enough time running from my feelings anyways.

“Thanks for waiting,” he said when he reached me. It was painfully quiet for a moment. I fought the urge to reach out and brush the hair out of his eyes.

“I need to apologize,” I said at the same time he said, “I have something to tell you.”

It was weird for things to be awkward between us.

“You go first,” he said.

I took a deep breath. “I owe you an apology. Just let me finish, please,” I said when he opened his mouth to interrupt. “I shouldn’t have gotten upset with you, at least not without telling you why. I also have been avoiding you for the past couple days, which I feel bad about also. The thing is, I realized that I realized something and once I realized I couldn’t ignore it, and then I started overthinking and I ended up lashing out on you, which isn’t fair. I’m really sorry about that.

“I really like you, Seokmin,” I said. “When I’m around you… I’m happy.” It felt weak to say ‘happy,’ but I couldn’t think of any other way to express how when I was around him it felt like I would never stop smiling, like if I had him by my side for the rest of my life, no matter what happened I would be able to handle it. He made me dream of the future when the future terrified me.

“I know the competition was a joke, but I think it made me realize how sweet you are and I’m sorry for getting upset that you were just being nice when I wanted more.” Once it was out loud, I felt better, like I could at least stand up tall.

Seokmin was smiling, but he was always smiling. He rested his hands on top of mine over the fence, warmth seeping through to my fingers immediately.

“Your fingers are freezing,” he said.

“Well I promised someone I’d sit outside in the freezing cold for him,” I said. He slid his hands to wrap them around my fingers, rubbing them between his fingers and thumbs, the warmth spreading to my whole body.

“Is it my turn?”

I nodded.

“I really like you, too,” he said. “I tried to use the silly competition to flirt, but I don’t think I did a very good job.”

“Really?” I whispered.

Seokmin laughed at me. “Really.”

I leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips, quickly pulling away. Seokmin took a moment to react, face frozen before breaking into his sunshine smile.

“Your lips are freezing,” he said.

“I’m freezing,” I said. He pulled me closer, hugging me over the fence, and even though he smelled a little bit like sweat, it was the best hug of my life. I only let go so that he could hop the fence, immediately lacing his fingers back with mine.

“I was going to give this back to you,” I said, pulling on the jacket with my free hand.

“I meant what I said, it looks better on you.” He pulled the hood up, pulling on the strings so that my face could only be seen through a tiny hole then laughed how I must have looked. He caught my other hand, lifting it so that the jacket fell back and he could see the bracelet that still sat on my wrist. I didn’t miss his nod of approval. I leaned into his shoulder as we walked, marveling at how much warmth he had, not just on the outside, but how just by holding his hand, I was unfreezing from the inside out. He was my own personal sun.

“Seokmin?”

“What is it?”

“I like you.”

“I like you, too.”

#🌟 stars galaxy #svt reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader #svt fluff #svt #seventeen #lee seokmin #lee seokmin x reader #dk #dk x reader #dokyeom #dokyeom x reader #soccer boys!

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buttercream-princess · 1 year

Text

Playing The Game

Summary: Y/K and Dean have been secretly enjoying a friends-with-benefits arrangement for some time now, relishing in the pleasure and excitement that it brings. But when Dean unexpectedly reveals his feelings about someone else while under the influence, Y/K is left reeling and wondering where their relationship truly stands. Y/K must decipher between her newfound emotions and unspoken desires what she really wants: lust or love?

Word Count: 9k

Warnings: Whole lotta’ ANGST, little bit of fluff, swearing, sexual objectification kink, SMUTTY AF, unprotected sex, quickie, public sex, unholy dirty talk, NSFW, interactive

DISCLAIMER: Every original Harry Potter characters in this story is 21+. My Hogwarts stories are always and only written as a university universe with grown ass characters.

Notes: This one has been sitting in the drafts for awhile. I’m thinking of turning it into a 5 part series because I’m too attached to this Dean at this point (Just like Y/K lol) - he’s so cheeky, I love it!

*Gifs and images were not created by and do not belong to me. All rights go to owners and creators!!

(Not edited | proof-read)

_______________________

You sleepily reach for your phone underneath your pillows and sit up against the bed frame.

You check your notifications; still no text from Dean.

Tired and irritated, you let out a groan of frustration and slump back underneath your covers. All you could think was how much you missed him, it was an unfamiliar feeling borderlining on uncomfortable. You never ached for a response from him, since you always had access to him. You were each other's person, but that now seemed called off. It felt almost unfair how easily he was going on with life without you.

It was a long night of tossing and turning, you were unable to get any sleep. Once the birds began their routine songs at dawn, you knew there was no point in trying to get some shut eye, class begins in a few hours.

You couldn’t even think about studying today, you were bitter and strung up. It was all his fault. If he just reached out to you, that would’ve put your racing thoughts at bay. At this point, even an emoji text would’ve been fine. But no, he was radio silent.

Your argument aside, Dean ghosting you was so out of character for him. Dean always made sure to check in with you, you guys were basically joined at the hip. You and Dean have been good friends since your first week at Hogwarts University. You took up the Magical Fine Arts class as an elective in the 1st year. It was Dean who asked you to be his model for the end of year project, to which you agreed to and along the way, you found yourself spending more time with him than you were studying. Dean was funny, charming and adventurous, just your kind of fun. It seemed he had a strong liking for you too because over time, the two of you were inseparable; wherever you saw him, you were always by his side and vice versa.

But over the last summer, your relationship with him developed into something more physical. It started platonic and friendly but as the semesters passed, your body couldn’t deny his sex appeal anymore. One night at your studio dorm after 2 and a half bottles of red wine, you were both wasted and bonding over your love of muggle music since the both of you were half-blood. That night you went from bestfriends to lovers in private and there was no looking back.

You both agreed to keep it under wraps in consideration of not rocking the boat that was your friend group with Blaise, Lee and Alicia. The odds of awkwardly tinting the group dynamic with your situationship was too much to take a chance on. So for the sake of secrecy, all emotions and entanglements was off the table. It kept your friendship balanced. It was simple and you liked it that way.

As for Dean in the bedroom, he’s incredibly cocky and is well aware of the power he has over you. Although you’ve never casually talked about your attraction to him, he remembers every moan and moment of begging that left your mouth while he turned you out. He always finds a way to remind you just how needy you are for his dick. Most late nights you’d get a text from him, saying, “Can’t sleep. Come over.” and you already knew what time it was the second you got the notification.

Hooking up with him had become a weekly - almost daily ritual so you didn’t usually approach Dean for sex but by now it had been close to three weeks since your last conversation with him and you were almost feral for his face between your legs. He would never go this long without asking you to come over, it was so unlike him.

There was once a whole month where you couldn’t get off eachother. You’d get a quickie in before and between classes, in any private room you could find in the castle. The astronomy tower, the room of requirement, the House Elves restroom. Even in Filch’s office once, which you left in absolute shambles, even staining his desk with dry cum - from the both of you. It was hysterical when he reported the scene in the great hall during dinner. You and Dean forced back fits of giggles with mouths full of food, knowing it was you two who defiled his office while everyone else in the hall was completely oblivious. Sneaking around with him had its benefits, one of them being you had a massive secret that only you and Dean shared, as if it was an inside joke that only you and your favorite person knew the origin of. You could call it special. Sure, hiding the truth sometimes felt like a burden but most times it felt electrifying.

While Dean was AWOL, something fierce was brewing in you this morning. You didn’t want to admit it to yourself but you were edging on desperation. You were fine with not hearing from him the first couple of days, you figured he was just busy. But once you saw him actively going out his way to dodge you, that was all your mind needed to start jumping to conclusions.

Why was he ghosting you? Did he not wanna hook up anymore? And if so, why?

You blankly stare at your phone while your mind wanders off and pictures all kinds of scenarios for his weird behavior.

You recall the last time the two of you spoke, a late night from a few weeks ago….

________________________________________________________

3 Weeks Ago…

Everyone had just sat the OWLS exams and it was finally done with. This year's OWLS was making up for 40% for your final grade of the semester, the stakes were high. It even ripped Granger a new one. And if Miss Know It All is anxious about a test, you should be terrified. Which of course, everyone was.

Yet somehow you came out the other side of the exam alive, along with your friends, and what better way to celebrate the end of a stressful and anxiety producing test than to get absolutely wasted?

That’s exactly what you and your friends did. Lee and Alicia went off to Hogsmeade bar to celebrate, but you, Dean and Blaise was too tired from a long day of studying to make the trek to town so the three of you shared a bottle of Don Julio in the Griffindor dorm kitchenette. The night was still young and you spent it vibing to music, taking shots and swapping scandalous stories that were only for your friends group ears. It was always good times when you linked with Thomas and Zabini, the three of you were the bestest of bestfriends. You all just naturally clicked with each other and could yarn for hours, which was something worth looking forward to in your day. The night was going good and your stomach was in pain from how much the boys made you laugh, but along the way, the three of you landed on a subject that would change the trajectory of your relationship with Dean…for the better and worse.

“Can we please talk about Fred and Angela? I’ma be all the way real, Fred is punching hardddd man.” Dean exclaims.

Blaise lets out an annoyed moan and perks up from the bench, throwing his hands in the air.

“Finally somebody fucking said it!”

You smirk and raise your glass. Angela Johnson is an etheric goddess walking amongst mere wizards and witches. And Fred is…well, he’s Fred Weasley. Nuff’ said.

“Right?! I’ll bloody drink to that.” You throw back the rest of your mug only to have a few drops hit your tongue. Time for a top up. You scoot off the kitchen top and walk to the fridge, getting some soda to mix with your tequila.

“Look, I love Fred. He’s my best mates brother, Maker bless Ron - the little shit. But how Fred even got a chance with Angie? That’s surely one of Hogwarts greatest mysteries and this school’s packing loads of them cunts.” Dean voices.

You chuckle while fixing yourself a drink, listening in on the boys being messy.

“I’m saying, like? He don’t even know what to do with that, he can’t handle all that.” Blaise says, reeking of jealousy. It was hilarious, you couldn’t hold back the giggles.

“No Weasley can handle a baddie, let alone a black goddess like Angela.” You chime in.

“Exactly. He needs to go for someone like Luna or Pansey, someone in his lane! No offense to them but that’s more Fred’s avenue. Not Angelina Johnson for Merlin's sake!”

You gasp, followed by a chortle. The gossiping behaviour between these two grown ass men was worse than you thought.

“Oh my god Blaise! I know you did not just say that! Not too much on Luna now, that’s my girl. I love that little weirdo.” You insert, jokingly death staring down Zabini. He stares back at you with knitted brows, challenging you. After a few seconds, he blinks and child-like laughter echoes throughout the kitchen from the three of you, laughing at the silly game.

Then Dean loudly clears his throat.

“No but listen, on the topic of Angie…I mean, shiettt, put me in coach. I can handle that.” Dean lowly blurts amongst the laughing.

Silence falls in the room, especially from you. You go mute, processing what he just said.

Blaise snorts.

“I mean you know what I mean? She need someone equipped for the job.”

Blaise daps Dean up in agreement. Both the boys cackle.

Your eyes unintentionally squint and you clench your grip on the bottle of liquor, completely thrown off guard by Dean’s comment. He sure knew how to get a raise out of you. You could hear he was joking, but still, your body reacted on its own accord, knotting up your stomach. You loudly puff out a sigh and plop the bottle back on the bench with a bang.

“Fuck, that was loud. My bad.” You stifly apologize.

“You’re alright.” Dean replies.

“You were saying?” You ask, then clear your throat.

Of course you didn’t want him to. But a sabotaging part of you wanted to see how far he’d take it.

“Look, Angela’s a ten outta ten. Peng as fuck, her body is crazy, and she’s got great banter. I’m first in line when she drops the dead weight that Fred is.”

Wow. He’s playing with fire. You couldn’t believe he’d froth over Angela like that right in front of you. It stinged to say the least.

The two boys cheer glasses and talk more about their thoughts on the couple.

You stir your drink, quietly wheezing to yourself hysterically. Nothing about what Dean said was funny to you, you just couldn’t believe the sheer audacity of him gawking over Angela whilst you were in the room, drunk or not.

Dean glances over to you with the utmost cheeky smirk, cocking up a brow. He was doing it on purpose and it was some kind of emotional torture he wanted to commit to you.

Why was he doing it? What is he getting out of this shit? you thought.

A smug look was locked on his face as he listened to Blaise carry on, but his gaze was focused on you. He watched you closely, seeing if he’d you’d give him any reaction at all, all while stifling back chuckles. Your silent rage of envy was amusing to him it seemed.

As Dean's eyes lingers on you, you feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment and anger. You take a deep breath and try to compose yourself. You remind yourself that this is just Dean being his usual flirtatious self and that he probably didn't mean anything by it. But it still hurts and there was no refusing that.

You take a long sip of your drink, trying to distract yourself from the uncomfortable tension in the air. Soon the boys stop talking and you can feel Blaise and Dean's eyes on you, waiting for a response. But you don't give them the satisfaction. Instead, you change the subject.

"Talking about the Twins, did you guys hear about the prank that the twins pulled on Filch last week? Filch went off his head, it was hilarious!"

Blaise and Dean both laugh, relieved that the tension has been broken. They eagerly listen as you recount the details of the prank, and soon enough, everyone is laughing and joking again.

The rest of the night you barely spoke. You chuckled here and there, showing face in front of Blaise. But you were distracted, lost in intrusive thoughts. You couldn’t shake off Dean’s opinions about Angela. You were salty as fuck, so by the time it hit 2AM, you bowed out.

“As much as I’d love to stay up with you guys, I need to sleep. OWLS kicked my ass. I will see you wonderful people tomorrow.” You slide off the bench and grab the Tequila.

“Yeah shit, it’s almost 3. I’ll head too.” Dean checks his phone and stands up.

“Fair. But first, cuddle before bedtime.” Blaise drunkenly pulls you into a tight hug and pecks the top of your head. Blaise is the biggest softy, you had no idea how he was sorted into Slytherin.

“Okayyy mummy. Night Blaisey. Love ya” You tease, squeezing your arms around him.

“Night bub. Love you too.”

You pull away and head for the dorm hallway. The two boys hang back and say their goodbyes. You soon hear Dean catch up behind you, following you to the dorms. It was a quiet stroll to the rooms. There were many things you wanted to say but your pride had a tight muzzle on your mouth.

Dean breaks the silence, “He’s a good one, that Blaise.”

“Yeah, he’s the best. Love him.”

The rest of the way to your room was silent. You pass the corridor to the men’s dorm but he stays on your route, following you to the women's dorms.

You scoff.

If he thinks he’s getting some tonight, he’s got you all the way fucked up. You don’t mention him following you though, you figured you’d pop off at him in the room. And boy, was he in for a storm.

Dean laughs, catching your attitude. But he doesn’t say a word because he knew you wouldn't turn him away, you never do. Usual overconfident Dean behavior.

You were steaming all the way up to your door. Your blood wasn’t boiling, it was burning. You were contemplating blowing your cool and letting him have it right now and here out in the hallway. You couldn’t understand in the moment why he had you so vexed over banter but you didn’t care, you were hurting and he needed to know. But instead of blowing up on him, you decided silence was the best treatment to handle Thomas.

You huff back the emotions that were flooding to the surface, your face was heating up with rage - tears were sure to follow soon. You just needed to get inside your room before you let it all out.

You take your keys out of your jeans pocket to unlock the door and place the key to the hole but it doesn't budge. Your hands were shaking and you were on the verge of crying out of pure frustration. You already had a mountain of unexplainable feelings that was rocking your shit, this stupid key was just the cherry on top. Pursing your lips together, you swallow back the rogue wave emotions on your heart while staying faced to the door. You couldn’t let Dean see just how miserable you were over something so minor and stupid.

He closes in behind you. The warmth of his breath tickles your skin as he bends down and leans his chin in the crook of your neck.

“Give it here you goose.” He chuckles.

Taking the keys out of your hands, he unlocks and opens the door on the first try. You grumble cuss words under your breath. Even when helping you, you couldn’t stand him. Not right now, everything he did irked your soul.

You step into the apartment and head straight to your kitchen cabinet. There was a heavy weight of feelings on your chest and drinking it away was the only option. Yes, you were already drunk, but definitely not drunk enough to forget how crossed up he has you.

You slam open the kitchen cupboard door, grabbing the biggest cup you own and quickly fill it up with the Tequila in your other hand. Dean closes the door behind him and walks over to you.

“Woah there, fairy. I think the only thing you need to be drinking right now is water.”

He grabs the bottle and glass out of your hand, chucks the alcohol in your cup down the kitchen sink and fills it with water from the sink.

“Oh, so now you know what I need?”

He turns his head to you, furrowed in brows and squints his eyes. He studies your face, the way he looks at you makes you feel exposed. He knew what you were poking at, he could read every subliminal between your words.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I just don’t want you to wake up with a hangover in the morning.”

A soft friendly smile forms on his lips, which only riles you up more. Can he not read the fucking room?

“Yeah well, maybe I like waking up with hangovers.”

He snorts and turns off the tap, walking back over to you with the glass of water.

“Maybe you do. Looks like I’m learning something new about you everyday, beautiful. Drink this.”

You place your hand on your hip and stare back at him blank in the face. You weren't doing anything he wanted you to do.

“No, you drink it. And choke for all I care.”

You turn on your heels and head to the bathroom with the bottle of Don Julio still in your hand. He chortles, amused.

“Only if you’re the one doing the choking, baby.”

You grunt at his chirpy attitude, absolutely done with how witty he is. Usually you like it, he always says the right things to make you swoon over him, but now it was just ammo to get under your skin.

You turn on the showers, letting it run hot to steam up the room. As you undressed, you couldn’t help but feel stupid for letting Dean get to you. You take a gulp from the bottle.

With every clothing piece you took off, memories of him kissing that part of your body flooded your mind, accompanied by visuals of him doing that to Angela. It was tormenting. You take another sip from the bottle.

You step under the streaming water, letting it wash over your face. Finally, the tears fall. It felt good. You knew you were crying over something so silly but you didn’t want to compartmentalise, the only way you were getting through this was by letting yourself have a sook and feel everything, something you never did when it came to Dean. Feeling anything emotional towards Dean was something you put off limits from the beginning of your situationship with him, it kept your feelings safe in case things got ugly between you two. But now you were feeling the burn of setting that rule in the first place.

As you stood under the hot water, you let your mind wander. You thought about everything that had led up to this moment. You thought about how you and Thomas had started off as friends, and how things had escalated so quickly. You thought about the passion and the intensity that you had shared, and how it had felt like nothing could ever come between the two of you.

But now, as you stood there alone, you realized that things were different. You couldn't ignore the fact that Thomas had been with other people and could be hooking up with other girls right at this moment, and that he might not have been as committed to you as you had thought, even if it was just friends with benefits. You couldn't ignore the feeling of betrayal that had been gnawing at your heart since you had found out how he felt about Angela.

When you began hooking up with Dean, you had no idea it would cause so much pent up frustration and desire in your body. Sex would help release this energy from the system, but there was an emotional side to things that had you questioning everything. Surely after some time, you began to ask yourself:

“Do I have feelings for Dean?”

Just hearing those words in your thoughts made you angry.

“Fuck!” You yell, “What is wrong with you?!” you ask yourself in frustration.

How could you let it get this far? How could you let Dean work his natural love potion on you? You thought you were better than this. Better than all the other girls who fell for his stupid addictive charm.

Three knocks tap on the bathroom door.

“Are you okay?” Dean asks, concern in his voice.

“Yes.” You sniffle.

You see him in the reflection of the bathroom glass, taking off his clothes and shoes, all he was left in was a singlet and boxers. He walks towards you and opens the shower door and leans his arm up against the shower frame. You face towards the shower head, not giving him any form of attention.

“The waters getting out.” You protest.

“I don’t care. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Hmmm.”

He pulls his singlet over his head, tossing it aside and kicks off his briefs, stepping into the shower and closing the door.

Tears were still streaming from your eyes, you stood underneath the flush of the water. You didn’t want to let him see you in tears. A few painful minutes go by and you hesitate to tell him off. Although you were mad with him, you loved sharing showers with him, it was one of the few intimate things that you did with him that wasn’t sex.

You sniffle and clear your croaky throat, it was a dead giveaway.

Dean steps closer under the water, saying a wandless spell to the soap, which placed a dollop of cleanser in his hands. He places both hands on your shoulders, lathering up and covering every inch of your body with the suds.

Dean dials down the water temperature and makes it a sweet warm stream and sways you by your waist from under the water.

He was smooth, even in instances like this. He didn’t need to use spells or charms, he just intuitively had a way with you that always got to your core. He observes you, adjusts his approach and works his magic on you.

“Y’know,” He pulls the hair in front of your face behind your neck and plants a soft kiss on your shoulder, “You’re allowed to tell me when I fuck up.”

“Huh?”

“I know I said something that made you uncomfortable, you can tell me.”

You turn your head to look at him, surprised by his admission. He was usually so confident and self-assured, it was refreshing to see him vulnerable like this.

“I just don’t know what to say,” you admit, feeling ashamed of your own emotions.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he reassures you, “We both can just be silent for all I care. I just want you to know that I’m here for you, always.”

He leans in and kisses you gently on the lips, his arms wrapping around you in a comforting embrace. For a moment, you allow yourself to be held, to feel safe in his arms. But then reality hits you like a ton of bricks.

You push him away, suddenly feeling claustrophobic in the small shower space.

“No, you’re not here for me. That’s not what it felt like when we were with Blaise,” you accuse him, the anger rising up in your voice, “You just want to keep me around for when you’re bored or lonely. You don’t actually care about me.” you exclaim, accidentally revealing your resentment.

Dean looks hurt by your words, but he doesn’t back down.

His hand slides up from your thighs to your waist.

“I knew something was wrong. You don’t have to act with me. Just tell me what I did.” He calmly says.

His touch goes over your stomach, just above your nether regions, but he doesn’t go further, Dean knew to be gentle with you in the moment.

“Forget it. I’m just trying to shower.” You say, pulling away from his grasp, retreating back to icing him out

He goes to speak but he pauses, you could see on his face that he was calculating his next words. Lost in his thoughts, he says a spell to the body wash again and goes over his body.

You lean against the shower wall, arms crossed, bottle still in hand and looking up to the ceiling. Tears still falling from your eyes disguised as droplets of shower water.

Dean grabs the bottle from your hold and pulls you into the water with him, tilting your head up to his.

“I wasn’t born yesterday and I know you weren't either, so there’s no point in either of us playing dumb. I’m sorry– please believe me.”

You clench your jaw.

“About what?”

“What I said about Angela. It was stupid. I only said it to get a rise out of you.”

Is this shit a game to him? Your emotions just a ploy for him. And for what? Just so he can feel better about himself? You wanted to hear an apology from him but you didn’t expect it to come with the harsh reality of the situation.

“You’re right, it was stupid. I don’t care though.” You lie through gritted teeth, “What does it matter? You were only speaking your truth.”

“That’s the thing. I wasn't. I was saying all that shit just to get a reaction outta’ you and it was beyond wrong to do that. You don’t deserve that.”

You meet his eyes, he looks completely sincere and open but you quickly look away, feeling a small sob build at the bottom of your throat. The liquor had taken over your emotions and was ready to let it all pour out.

“Why Dean? What's the point?”

“I don’t know. I guess I thought if I said that, you would’ve said something, anything. Maybe I just wanted to hear you claim m—”

“No, Dean. You didn’t hear me. What’s the point of us?”

He stares into both of your eyes, trying to figure you out. Under his gaze, usually you would melt but right now, all you felt was a sense of grief.

“Right…oh, righttt.” He sternly responds.

He loosens his grip on you and tilts his head, squinting his eyes and licks his bottom lip, a grim smile forms on his lips as he starts to sarcastically laugh.

“Oh. Message received.”

He leans down and places his lips on your forehead, chuckling against your skin while giving you a kiss then exiting the shower, taking no time to dry himself with the towel from the rack.

“When you’re done with whatever this is, let me know.”

You stand there, feeling a mix of confusion, anger, and desire all at once. You can hear the sound of the bathroom door closing as Dean leaves, and you're left alone in the shower, still processing everything that just happened.

You take a deep breath and turn off the water, stepping out of the shower and grabbing a towel from the rack. You take one last chug of tequila before placing it on the sink. As you dry yourself off, you can't help but feel disappointment. You didn’t know what you wanted. You were torn between giving him the cold shoulder, letting him feel your anger or to give in, let him right his wrongs and lay up in his arms where you wanted to be.

You swipe your hand across the foggy mirror above the bathroom sink and look back at your reflection, red eyes and puffy eyelids from crying. You knew what the reasonable thing to do was but somewhere deep down, you knew this was an internal issue. You longed to be consistently chosen, whether you wanted to admit it or not, it was an inner turmoil that you had and Dean just happened to be the person who you wanted to act on it. It was unfair to him to put him in such a position without him knowing, but you wanted him to just know what you wanted and to provide it instantly. It was selfish of you but you couldn't help it.

The bitter truth stands - he’s wasn’t your boyfriend, you weren’t in a relationship with him and he wasn’t officially yours. How could you possibly ask him to do boyfriend things without actually being your man. Which posed the next question:

“Do I want to be Dean’s girlfriend?”

You wince again at the intimate ideas flooding in. But the wonder stayed with you this time, replaying back memories in your mind of Dean’s beautiful smile before he laces you with kisses all over your face. You wanted that, all the time. You wanted him all the time.

You finish drying off and walk to the bedroom, still lost in your thoughts. As you approach the bedroom door you see Dean sitting on the edge of your bed, scrolling through his phone.

He looks up as you enter the room, and his expression softens. "Hey," he says, patting the seat next to him. "Come sit."

You hesitate for a moment before taking a seat next to him. He puts his arm around you and pulls you close, and you feel a sudden rush of warmth.

"I'm sorry for how I acted in the shower. Actually I’m sorry for everything," he says, his voice gentle. "I didn't mean to upset you, I was acting out of line this whole night. I just wanted to make things right."

You turn to look at him, and his eyes meet yours. You can see the honesty in his stare, and you feel yourself start to soften. Just as you open your mouth to apologize, he speaks.

“And look, if you don’t want to be around me right now, I understand. I’ll leave-”

He goes to stand up but you pull him by the hem of his shirt. By now you were more wasted than you anticipated and didn't want to be alone with your intrusive thoughts.

“No. Stay.” You slur out.

Relieved, he sits back down and looks at you in silence for a few moments, a flicker in his eyes.

“God, look at you. You’re so cute.”

He squeezes your cheeks between his hands once before getting up from your bed and walking towards your drawers, opening them and shuffling clothes around.

“What are you doing?”

“Pyjamas. It’s time you go to bed, you.”

You giggle burp. You didn’t want to go to sleep, you still wanted to talk about your feelings to him. But for some reason you found it endearing he wanted to put you to bed without sex being in the context.

Dean picks out a set of comfy clothes and walks back over to you.

“Up.” He orders you. Your towel drops to your feet and he fits your shirt over your head then continues to dress you in your clothes.

“Somni Modus (Bedtime mode).” Dean says a wandless spell which dims the lighting, lights the candles, puffs your pillows and pulls back your covers. You crawl to your side of the bed and Dean joins you on the other side, pulling the covers over you.

He leans on a pillow and props himself up on an elbow, facing you, watching your dizzy drunk self get comfortable in bed, cuddling a small pillow. He smiles, looking at you in awe. You roll over and feel the urge to pour your heart out to him,

“I probably wouldn’t say this to you when I’m sober but I think I-”

He cuts you off.

"Darling, you’re way too intoxicated right now. I promise we can talk more when you’re in the right state of mind. Just come and find me, and I’ll listen, okay? But for now, you need some rest.”

You pout, slightly saddened. There were still some things you wanted to get off your chest. But you don’t argue with him, your eyelids was feeling heavy and the room was spinning the more you tried to stay awake.

Dean tucks you in and kisses your forehead, then heads towards the door.

As he's about to leave, you reach out and grab his hand. "Please don't go," you say, looking up at him with pleading eyes.

He pauses, then smiles softly and sits back down next to you, pulling you into a soft embrace. "I won't go anywhere," he says, stroking your hair, "I'll stay here with you until you fall asleep."

You feel a wave of gratitude wash over you, and you snuggle closer to him, feeling safe and protected in his arms.

As you drift off to sleep, you realize that maybe, just maybe, everything will be okay with him after all.

______________________

Currently…

That was the last you heard from Dean. Your memories of the night had a few blanks, considering how much you drank, though you definitely remember how you felt. You spent many days, wracking your brain over why the night panned out like that and why he would promise to listen to you if he was just gonna ignore you in the first place.

You decided when you fully woke up, that was it. No more using your voluptas wand (Pleasure wand) and pretending it was Dean. You needed an explanation, a good fuck and to be on talking terms again and he was the only person who could give it to you. You flicked open his school schedule on your phone, which he had previously sent you so you would know his free periods for quickies or some head in the Elf janitor closet. You two were just that ravenous for each other.

You scrolled to his classes for the day and saw that he had a morning quidditch game against Slytherin. Dean had to be already up at the field, stretching and preparing for the match, he was an early bird.

You stand up from your bed and commit to your decision. You take a brisk shower and dress for the occasion - not showing too much so it shows you mean business but leaving out a little skin for a subtle hint of slutty to show him what he's been missing. Perfect.

It was a cold lengthy walk down to the Quidditch field. No one was awake except for the winter birds, owls and the sun kissing the sky with orange hues. As you neared closer to the male Quidditch changing tent, you went over in your mind exactly what you were going to say to him.

“So, no text? No. That’s lame. Okay, so when were you gonna tell me we weren’t doing this anymore. Ew! that too mushy for 5AM in the morning ,Y/K.” You thought to yourself.

Every sentence that came to conception only made you sound needy and that you wanted him more than you were willing to let him know. But you missed him badly, and you wanted him again for crying out loud! it was the truth. Him finding this out was a risk you were gonna have to take.

You stop out the front of the tent opening and release a big heavy sigh.

“Here goes nothing.”

You lift up the material of the tents doors and see the man of the hour. Butterflies swarm your insides. This had to be the first time you’ve ever felt anxious around him.

“Dean?”

He pauses his stretching and turns around. His beautiful cinnamon brown eyes travel from your legs, up to your eyes. He starts walking over to you with rush in his step.

“Right, so I don’t what’s happening between us but I–”

“Well, look who decided to come around.” He finally speaks.

Dean grabs your face into the palm of his hands and pulls you into a haste kiss. His tongue took no time finding yours. The tense from your body drops as you find yourself seeping into his pull, right where you want to be.

The feel of lips and touch felt like feeding an addiction you’ve been weaned off for eons and you’re getting a much needed hit again. But you still had questions. You pull from his kiss and ask away.

“First of all, why didn’t you hit me up? And ignoring me?”

“I was waiting.”

“For?”

“For when you’d make the first move.”

Your mouth opens wide as it forms into a smirk. From the sounds of it, he wanted to be chased by you. So the man has emotional needs and wants besides getting a load off. Who knew?

“Dean Thomas playing the waiting game? Seriously?”

“Oh shut up. I missed you.” he gives you another deep kiss then comes up, “That’s the last time I’m waiting for you to make the call. You almost drove me mad, woman.” his hands slides underneath your skirt and palms your ass cheek in his hand.

You press your body up against his, feeling his member already bricked up. And just like that, gasoline was thrown into the fiery tension between you two like it never left and it felt like pure electricity.

“Please tell me you didn’t jerk off. I want you at your best.”

“Like I said, I was waiting for you. Nothing can satisfy me the way you do.” He says, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving a trail of kisses and bites.

You moan in response, feeling the heat rising between your legs. You pull him closer, your hands gripping his biceps tightly.

“We’re gonna need to have a serious talk but I need this first.” You breathe out as your hand slips down to his 9 inch member over his shorts while his hands explore your body.

“Of course. We can talk things over. Do me a favor first, pretty girl? bend over.” He takes your hand, spinning you around and positions you over the stacked bat trunk. You oblige to his request and bend over the case, exposing all of your sex to him.

Dean wastes no time, pulling up your skirt and pulling down your panties, revealing your wetness. He smirks at the sight, knowing he's the only one who can make you this soaked. He takes a moment to appreciate the view before teasingly running a finger over your folds, making you gasp.

“Please, Dean. Don't tease me. It’s been too long, I can’t wait anymore” You moan out, your body trembling with need.

He chuckles and slides a finger inside of you, pumping it slowly. He adds another finger, hitting all the right spots. He was pumping your pleasure button to new highs, making you buck back against his long strong fingers. You can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your body starts to shake.

“Dean baby, I'm gonna cum.” You whimper out, unable to hold on any longer, and just before you feel the eruption of bliss, he pulls out.

He places a kiss on the back of your neck, “Wait for me baby. I know you miss it.”

And just like that, Dean’s Gryffindor jersey shorts and briefs drop to his ankles, you feel his member hot and hard rubbing against your ass cheeks. He takes his time and slides the tip down between your cheeks, against your asshole, to your hungry flesh. He pushes in slowly and immediately you feel the evidence of his absence. His size hurt like hell but it hurt so good, it already sent you over the edge into climax.

“You kept it nice and tight for me baby, hmmm?”

He dips in deeper, filling you up wholly, hitting your pleasure spot at the back of your pussy, driving you wild. You were gushing all over his dick yet as he pulls back, you feel the friction of your walls wrapped around him like a fitted glove, as if your pussy was designed just for him to fuck in.

He holds the hem of his shirt through his gritted teeth so it didn’t block the view. He wanted to see every motion of your needy cunt taking him whole. He paces himself while adjusting his tip at your entrance again. The tension and anticipation between the two of you was thick and vicious. Both of you knew what was about to go down, once he starts stroking, it’s game over for your precious walls.

Leaning down to you, he grabs a heap of your hair and twirls it in a fist, pulling your head back so his cheek was gashing against yours while he busts his first thrust into you, making your body jerk in intense euphoria. He goes again and again, until he picks up a rhythm. Your bodies rub together in heated unison, stimulating your senses to the nastiest levels possible, as he shoves kisses to your mouth, sucking on your tongue and leaving sloppy kisses on your cheeks and ear, thirsting for your affection. With every stroke, you’re sent into an oblivion of pure ecstasy.

Muffled grunts and mumbles of pleasure was all you could hear. It was killing Dean not to talk his shit. He’s a vocal lover, he knew all the right things to say that would brings out the animalistic freak in you. But in this tent, soft moans and whispers was all he could give you.

You rock your core back against his length, making him damn near lose all control and grip your hips with a tight hook as if he was cautiously trying to steady you. Throwing it back on him was a dangerous game, the control you had over him in the moment was unbearable. He desperately slows down his rhythm, nears your ear and mutters through his breath, “Oh, so you wanna play like that, huh?”

A devilish smile grows on your lips and you catch your breath in the quick spell he’s giving your walls.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You cluelessly respond.

“You know exactly what you’re doing.”

He pants on top of you, nestling his face in your hair, taking in your scent and licking up the droplets of sweat on your back.

“Two can play that game, sweetheart.” He mumbles into your skin.

A half smile forms on his lips as he slams back into you. He chuckles as you begin to lose it under him again, the sight of your unraveling was pure entertainment for him. He was well aware of just how good he puts it on you.

He stands up and spreads your cheeks apart while observing the view.

“I love seeing your pretty pussy take this dick. Why’s that pussy so good, hmm?” He grunts out.

Dean halts and draws back so only the tip is in.

“I said, why is that pussy so good?” he squeezes your face between his hand and turns your head to him, making you look up at him in the eyes as he rams in and out of you, leaving you silently gasping for air. Rolls of the orgasms he gave you just moments ago were still coming over you.

“I think I need to fuck you before every match.”

He picks his pace back up, filling you entirely. Bending down, his lips swipe across yours, teasing your desperate mouth.

“I bet you’d like that. Wouldn’t you? Tearing that pussy up every game.”

You look back to find his eyes piercing into yours as he strokes you down. He had you exactly where he wanted you: under him, stretched and slutted out. He was driving you insane.

You moan in response, feeling his wood flesh you out like there was no tomorrow. The idea of being fucked by him every match was both exhilarating and dangerous. You knew it would be hard to resist him before every match, knowing he had pent up aggression for the quidditch field. It was intimidating how easily he dominated you like this. But right now, all you could think about was how good it made you feel, being his little cum bucket.

“Yes,” you gasp out, “I want you to fuck me every game.”

“That’s what I like to hear. You always spread your legs for me like a good fucking whore, no matter the time or place.”

His features soften and his eyebrows furrow in. He closes his eyes and crashes lips to yours, groaning in your mouth. His strokes deepened inside you to the back of your walls, he wouldn’t dare to pull back a single inch, he wanted to feel all your tightness around him. You clench your pussy lips as he rests balls deep inside you, the pleasure mixing in the pain of his shaft hitting your cervix sent you over once more. You bend further across the trunk, trying to process all the sensations he was giving you, shying from his stroke.

Dean pulls you back, burrying his cock deeper than he was before. You whimper through another nut with teary eyes and slippery sweat all over your body. There wasn’t any words you could fathom that could explain the bliss he was fucking into you.

“Don’t run, baby. Be a good girl, take it.” he whispers, watching your face go through levels of rapture.

He pauses and strokes one more time, steadying himself before giving you another row of toe curling plows. Retracting out and immediately ramming right back in. He continuously rips into you, not giving you a single moment to gather yourself.

“Take it. Take all this fucking dick. I missed this pussy too much. I missed you so much baby!”

His voice cracks into a deep tone, moaning out all his nasty thoughts to you, “You feel so good, you always do. My pretty little whore.”

And just like that, hearing him talk nasty to you sparks the freak in you to life. You start fucking him back, applying all the pressure to his cock.

“Yes baby. I’m a fucking whore. I’m your whore.” You screech out.

You were gone, completely lost in the heat of passion. Dean bought out filthy taboo in you that you didn’t even know had a place in your desires.

“Use me like a fucking toy. I’m just an object for your cum. Nut inside me.”

“Oh fuckkkk.”

His cum shoots against the back of your core. As much as he tried, he couldn’t hold back the roaring moan that left his mouth. You felt his load fill you to the brim as it oozed outside your slit and down the back of your thighs.

“Damn girl, what the…fuck. I haven’t nut that good in a minute…” He weakly pants, his body going limp against yours.

You tiredly chuckle, too exhausted to try to speak, basking in all the high sensations still running through your body.

He doesn’t pull out, he smiles and moves the strands of hair that were slicked against your face behind your ear.

“So that’s what you like? Being my toy?” He inquisitively mumbles between huffs, leaving soft pecks against your bare skin.

You freeze in embarrassment, wanting to hide from his grasp and gaze.

“Oh my g- I don’t even know why I said that. I say stupid shit when we fuck.”

“Well hold on now, who said it was stupid?”

You cover your face in embarrassment with your hand. Sure, the thought of him using you like a fleshlight is enough to make you cum from the thought alone but you couldn’t admit that to him, that was sensitive information for only you, your toys and your spank bank to know. Plus, it would only make him more arrogant knowing how much power play gets you off.

“If you’d allow it, I think you’d make a perfect beautiful tight toy for me.” He caresses your thigh, soothing over the indented marks of his fingers from digging into your skin.

He brings your hands from your face as he hardens inside you, already ready to make a slut out of you again.

You gasp and look at him with widened eyes. “Already?”

“Baby, you actually feel like heaven…can you blame me?” He tilts his head and smiles that cocky all knowing smile.

“You’re such a slut.” you laugh off.

“That makes two of us, sweetheart.”

He gives you a kiss accompanied by slow strokes. You coo from the soreness of your walls being worn out but you ached for another round, his sex was a pleasurable craving you would never get enough of.

From a far distance, you can hear a crowd of people chatting and laughing.

“Fuck. Shit. What time is it?” Dean abruptly tugs his full length out of you, pulling up his shorts.

“I’m not sure? I lost track of time ages ago.” You frantically look around you and over the trunk for your underwear.

Dean helps you look around and remembers he put it in the pocket of his shorts when he was undressing you.

“I think you’ll be needing this.”

He gets down on his knees and helps you put the panties back on, wiping his cum away from your thighs with a gym towel from the equipment basket. He slows his pace when he draws his touch up to your hips. You raise your brows, wondering why he stops rushing.

“Dean?”

He lays a kiss on you clit against the fabric and looks up at you with bright eyes and a smirk, caressing the back of your thigh.

“You free after the game? I have a feeling I’ll be needing to use my toy.”

“What? You ask now with people right outside? You know you can just text me after the game.”

He stands up and pulls you by your waist into him.

“I could, but I wanna hear you say it.”

He bites down on his bottom lips, waiting for the magic words. You antsily look at the exit of the tent, ready for players to start rolling in at any moment.

“Dean! They’re right outside.”

He raises his brows, not budging to let go of you. Either he didn’t give a fuck that anyone knew you were fucking or he was just that naturally bold and stubborn. You were sure it was the latter. Either way, you couldn’t resist his charm.

“Yes, I have a free period after your game to fuck.” You submit, coyly smiling and rolling your eyes.

Satisfied, he presses his lips against yours. “Good girl.”

“Okay, now I’m leaving.” you say against his kiss and step away to head for the exit.

“Yeah, get of here ya’ weirdo! Why are you in the male changing tents anyways? Pervert!” He exclaims loud enough for even the people outside to hear.

You halt and turn back at him in disbelief, breaking into laughter.

“You’re fucking annoying, you know that?”

“You love it.” He chuckles and gives your ass a quick slap.

You scoff. Before you could give a proper reply, the male cohort of the quidditch team enter into the tent.

“Morning Dean…and Y/K?” Ron approaches.

“Left my phone in the common room last night. Good thing Y/K is like totally obsessed with me and knew I had a game this morning.” Dean jokes, mimicking an American valley girl accent, “She came and dropped it off for me first thing.” he shoots you a wink as he makes the sneaky innuendo.

The balls on this guy. Unbelievable. You had to admit, it was fucking sexy though.

“Well that’s the last time I do that. I’ll just let the house elves take it to lost and found next time.”

He laughs. “That’s fair. Thanks anyways bro.”

Bro. Oh he’s really selling it, this guy needs an academy. You’re aware he’s only showing face but for crying out loud, it’s too soon, his cum is still warm inside you. No matter the fuss though, it’s him who’s gonna be moaning baby when you ride the brakes off him later.

You look once over at Ron then shoot Dean a thin lipped smile.

“Don’t mention it, bruv. Just focus on winning, we don’t need any more house points to Slytherin. Knock em’ dead.”

His brow cocks up as he squints, catching all the shade you’re throwing his way. It was written all over his face, he didn’t like that.

“Cheers.” Ron exclaims with a big grin.

You turn on your heels and make for the exit. The way you keep up antics to hide your affair in front of others was Oscar worthy at this point. Although it kept things on the hush-hush, it was exhausting. But my oh my, did Dean hate it. He was a poor example for a fuck buddy. He talked a good game but at the heart of it all, he was sensitive, needed reassurance from time to time and to be claimed out loud. If you knew what it would take for him to stop ignoring you, you would’ve acted on that weeks ago. At least that was the one thing you had over him, you knew Dean Thomas’s secret longing to be wanted and loved.

As selfish as it was, now that you knew his little secret, you now have the upper hand over this situationship. He’s not the only king of hearts anymore; you’re right besides him, sitting pretty on the throne for the queen.

As you leave, you raise your skirt higher, leaving a little cheek out and sway your hips as you exit, giving Dean a cheeky tease. Just enough to make him stiff in his shorts and sexually frustrated. You glance back and see Dean adjusting and tucking away his wood. Laughter erupts from you as you walk out the tent, it was actually hilarious how easy you make him fold.

You were sure you’re gonna catch some heat for it later.

But now after this morning, you realized you like how vexed he gets from your stunts of the need for attention.

Well, solely because it makes him fuck you harder.

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