#If u have any other ways lmk ^__^ | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

guppiechuu · 1 month ago

Text

otp 📷.𖥔 ݁ ˖〰 l.h.

bsf older brother!heeseung x fem!reader

length: 9.7k contains: softdom!heeseung, sneaking around, flirty texts, light jealousy, fluff, ot7 hangout, bff!yoona, summer vibes warnings: smut (minors dni), praise kink, body worship, unprotected sex (don't be silly wrap your willy!), masturbation, oral sex, lots of kissing, explicit language, light voyeurism synopsis: heeseung had always been hot. but he was your best friend’s brother. off-limits. always had been, always would be. that is, until you hear him masturbating in his room late one night, and you can't help but satisfy the gnawing craving that’s eating you inside out.

he wasn't supposed to hear you, and he certainly wasn't supposed to hear you say his name… but he did. what's he gonna do about it?

⤷ chuu's 💌 ── .✦ hiiiiuuu this is my first smut ever on this account. it was meant to be short but we've ended up with almost 10k words ( ╥ ᴗ ╥). i hope u enjoy and lmk if i missed any tags hehe

——

it had been years since you'd added his number to your phone, but thinking back, you weren't sure you'd ever used it before. his name was in the wasteland of your contact list, one without a profile picture or even an emoji to identify him as someone you saw almost every day.

lee heeseung.

that was all it said.

yoona was your very best friend, the only person who still remembered the time you'd cut your own bangs in the 5th grade (which she took care to remind you of all the time), or when you broke your wrist riding a bike for the first time. it was old-school. no you without her.

and with her, came heeseung.

the older brother.

heeseung was two years older than his sister—quiet, careless, indifferent. as long as you'd known yoona, you'd known him, and you were over often enough to be accepted as part of the family.

heeseung was always unfazed by your presence—hanging out in the kitchen, leaning over the counter with yoona as you shoveled cereal into your mouths, or splayed on the couch, stalking one of her exes on instagram. he'd pass by without so much as a 'hello' in your direction, as if you were just as unremarkably part of the house as his little sister was.

he spent most of his time in his room, coming downstairs only to get food or another energy drink from the kitchen. he'd make his way silently to the fridge, the hood of his hoodie pulled up over his head, brown hair poking out messily from underneath, his sleeves pushed up his forearms.

sometimes, you'd find yourself watching him over yoona's phone, nodding to whatever she was saying, but paying more attention to the boy across the room.

heeseung wasn't cute, he was fine. the kind of fine that the other girls at school talked about, which annoyed yoona to no end.

"ugh, if i have to hear about my brother one more time, i'm going to lose it. he's not cool, he's a total loser. you know, y/n. he's like, gross and stupid. i have no idea what anyone sees in him."

"definitely," you agreed.

not definitely.

as much as you sympathized with your friend, you understood why people liked heeseung. he was quiet, sure, and preferred his room to anywhere else in the world, but he was smart. he got amazing grades in school, and was halfway through undergrad at one of the top universities in the country.

he gamed a lot, but he was plenty athletic. you'd seen him without a shirt on almost every summer since you and yoona first met. years ago, he was nothing but a scrawny kid with skin so pale he practically glowed in the sun. now, he was tall, slender but toned, his skin a rich honey-tan.

plus, heeseung might have been soft-spoken, but yoona had complained plenty of times about the girls he snuck into their house after their parents went to bed. the girls at his school were no different than the ones at yours—curious and eager to sidle up next to the quiet kid with the soft voice and dark eyes.

and as much as you pretended otherwise, a part of you was just as curious as they were.

it started over summer break, when heeseung came back home and the lees were set to throw their first barbecue of the season.

you were in the guest bedroom, listening to the sound of yoona's snoring on the other side of the wall. she was a sweet girl, but she tossed and turned something fierce, somehow always managing to land a punch square to your face. it was for your own protection that you slept in the guest bed, where you were safe from her thrashing limbs.

you sighed, glaring up at the ceiling in the dark. you'd tried to sleep—you were meant to be getting up early to help set up—but you were restless.

tossing and turning, you huffed in frustration. a quiet, persistent ache throbbed between your legs, heightened from lack of attention all day. this was what you got for spending nearly every day here, with no privacy to yourself.

you supposed you could do something about it—you were in another room after all... but something about it felt wrong. yoona was on the other side of the wall. it wasn't like she'd wake up, but still...

suddenly, a sound from beyond your room made you freeze, your heart stuttering to what felt like a complete stop. it drifted from across the hall, barely audible but for the way you were holding your breath.

maybe you'd imagined it. maybe it was the result of your late-night craving, just a figment of your own—

the sound came again. a moan.

blood rushed to your face as you realized what you were hearing. across the hall, heeseung was in his room, clearly still awake despite it being well past 2am.

you weren't sure if he had someone there with him, but the sound was unmistakable. he moaned again, louder this time, the sound reverberating against your eardrums. your breath hitched, the twist of desire between your legs swelling against your will.

your mind betrayed you, conjuring all kinds of images before you could even stop them. was he with a girl? his lips attached to her neck as he dug his hips into hers, bottomed out inside of her? or was he alone? head tossed back, lip caught between his teeth, those dark brows furrowed as he—

your face burned.

you squeezed your thighs together, desperately trying to think of anything other than what heeseung might look like right now. it was no use.

another groan drifted in under your door and you matched the sound, groaning to yourself in frustration. your thoughts seemed to have a mind of their own, replaying moments that should have seemed completely ordinary to you:

heeseung coming back from playing basketball with his friends, his hair plastered to his forehead, neck dripping in sweat.

heeseung lounging in the backyard, his shirt tossed over the back of his chair as he fiddled with his guitar.

heeseung making breakfast in the morning, hair a mess, lips red and pouty with sleep, his hand brushing yours as he handed you a plate.

you found yourself arching your back slightly, hips chasing the friction of your thighs as you pictured him. what would he do if he knew you could hear him? how would he touch you if you were inside his room?

your hand wandered beneath your shorts, pussy aching for some kind—any kind of touch. you were wetter than you thought, which was embarrassing and hot at the same time.

what would he do if he knew how wet you were just from hearing the sound of his voice from the other room?

you whined lightly as your fingers circled your clit, conjuring the image of his hand between your legs. your hips bucked upwards, jolts of pleasure shooting through your sensitive nerves.

outside, heeseung moaned again, louder this time, as if he were close to finishing. you slid your fingers inside of yourself, mouth dropping open. the sound of his voice mixed in with yours sent your heart fluttering.

you were disgusting. this was wrong on so many levels. yoona would never forgive you if she knew what you were doing, jacking off to the thought of her brother inside you. the vulgarity of it only made you more desperate, fingers working in and out of your leaking cunt with a hastened speed.

half-dazed you heard the sound of heeseung grunt, as if biting his lip in an effort to keep quiet. maybe you were imagining it, lost in the haze of your own dirty fantasy, or maybe he wanted you to hear it.

that thought was even more ludicrious, but it made your cunt twitch, throbbing, aching to feel him there. what would he say if he could see you? legs spread under his family's blanket, knuckle-deep in your own pussy to the thought of him.

you groaned, mouth open, head tossed back as the bundle of nerves in your stomach tightened.

"f-fuck," you whispered, squeezing your eyes shut. your wrist was slick with arousal that dripped down the back of your hand.

"heeseung," you whined quietly, grinding your hips against your hand as you imagined him leaning over you, grinning down at the way your legs began to shake.

heeseung's moans grew concerningly loud. didn't he care that people might hear? his parents were downstairs, sure, but what about yoona?

she was a heavy sleeper, you reminded yourself. he probably knew it, too. fuck, was he coming this loud every night? why hadn't you ever heard it before?

your voice scratched against your throat as you moved your other hand to your clit, rubbing tight circles above where your fingers were.

"ugh, heeseung," you said through gritted teeth, barely able to contain the sound of your voice. god, you wished he was there, wrist deep inside you, biting his lip while you moaned for him.

across the hall, his muffled voice grew frantic and desperate, the pitch rising, tone cracking. you moaned with him, for him, the feeling of your own orgasm chasing after you like a dog after its own tail.

"ah, ah, yes. yes. please— please hee— fuck!"

you shuddered, back arched up off the futon, pleasure rolling over your body. you fell back against the bed, both hands slick and shining in the dark. your chest heaved, the sound of your heartbeat pounding in your ears, loud enough to—

wait.

you paused, holding your breath. the hall had gone silent. eerily silent.

that made sense, right? from the sound of things, heeseung had been close to finishing, and in your momentary loss of awareness, maybe you'd missed the sound of it.

right?

as if in answer, your phone buzzed from under your blanket. you pulled it out and felt your heart catapult up your throat.

lee heeseung 04:12am hey 04:12am r u up?

you stared at your screen, mind completely and utterly blank.

fuck.

you scrambled for the most sensible thing to do in the situation, but it was difficult to think straight. did he know that you heard him? worse, had he heard you? your heart sank and sped up simultaneously at the implication of either of those things being true.

what would he think if he'd heard you jacking off across the hall from him? oh my god, what if he'd heard you say his name!? would he say something to you? would he say something to yoona?

you tossed your phone across the room, pulling your blanket up to your chin. just ignore it, you thought, panicked. just pretend like you've been asleep this whole time. you groaned internally at the idea of facing him the next day.

it would probably amount to nothing. heeseung was reserved. definitely not the type to approach his sister's best friend and ask if she'd come to the thought of him last night. you had no reason to worry.

he was your best friend's brother. he was off limits. always had been, always would be.

——

you tried to remind yourself of this as you sat in the kitchen the next morning, waiting for everyone else to wake up so you could start setting things up in the back. you'd slept... poorly. too anxious and too horny to get a good night's rest.

the light came in, pale and soft, through the kitchen windows, which looked out over the backyard. you were perched at the counter, feet brushing the cool tile beneath your seat, when heeseung wandered in.

you glanced at him before looking away, trying not to look guilty of anything. "didn't think anyone else was up," you said. cool. collected. perfectly nonchalant, just like you always were.

"heard the kettle," he said, voice scratchy with sleep. "didn't expect to see you, though."

"what? why not?"

he grabbed a mug from the cupboard. "you seemed tired last night. thought you'd sleep in."

something about the way he said last night made your stomach twist, your palms growing sweaty around your cup.

you looked away. "yeah... well, you know. hard to sleep sometimes."

"mm," he hummed, rifling through the cabinet for a pack of instant coffee. then, "you always talk in your sleep?"

you froze. he threw a glance back at you, one that you couldn't quite read. it wasn't accusatory, it was... curious. amused. the corner of his mouth twitched just slightly, and it took everything in you to ignore the twinge in your lower abdomen.

you swallowed. tried to play it cool. "i don't know what you mean." your voice was steady, but your hand shook slightly as you brought your mug to your mouth.

he nodded, pursing his lips as he turned away. "sure," he said, tearing the coffee packet open and dumping it into his cup. "guess i imagined it."

something about being there, alone, with him–the slope of his shoulders under his tank top, the soft hair at the nape of his neck—you were hungry, but not for any of the food he began pulling out of the fridge.

the muscles in his arms flexed as he grabbed a pan from overhead, shirt riding up to expose the tan skin at his midrift. calvin klein peeked out in black lettering over his sweats. you felt strangely bold.

"what did i say?"

heeseung looked back towards you, a hint of surprise on his face, as if he hadn't expected you to continue this conversation.

"uh, i don't know," he answered, turning away. his neck looked faintly pink. "couldn't quite catch anything from my room."

it was your time to hum, as if you didn't know exactly what you were doing. "i saw your texts this morning," you lied. "hope i didn't wake you up."

he laughed lightly, shaking his head. "nope. was still up."

"really?" you feigned, widening your eyes. "it was so late... what were you doing?"

whatever he'd expected you to say, it wasn't that.

he turned, a half smile on his lips. his mouth opened to say something when yoona bounded into the kitchen, interrupting him before he could start.

"mom's out of the shower," she said, coming to sit beside you.

heeseung closed his mouth and turned back to his breakfast.

"hey, not gonna share?" yoona complained, eyeing her brother's plate.

"eggs are right there, make it yourself."

"whatever," she scowled, muttering under her breath about what a lowsy brother he was. "dad says you have to help him with the grill. y/n, we're supposed to run to the store. my mom forgot some stuff yesterday."

"alright," you agreed. "what time is everyone getting here?"

"12, i think. so we'd better get a move on."

you downed the rest of your coffee and got up, making a point not to look at heeseung as you trailed after his sister.

yoona called over her shoulder as she grabbed her keys, "text me if mom remembers anything else!"

——

lee heeseung 09:37am mom wants pineapple 09:37am for the grill

you were surprised to see another set of texts from heeseung on your phone, only a few minutes after getting to the store.

"here," you showed yoona. "he probably meant to text you."

she nodded, adding pineapple to the list on her phone as you sent him a text back.

you 09:39am got it. yoona has the list if u think of anything else

you drop your phone into the cart, laughing about something dumb yoona said about the pineapple display. you spent half the time dutifully tracking down the things her mom had requested you pick up, and the other half goofing off in the aisles, falling into your usual giggly banter.

your phone buzzed again from the cart, hidden under a bag of corn.

lee heeseung 09:58am we're out of butter too 09:58am and eggs

you stared at the message, your chest fluttering. heeseung was texting you on purpose? he'd never done that.

you 10:00am yoona's still got the list lol

lee heeseung 10:01am i know 10:01am figured you’d see it faster

you read it twice, thumb hovering over the keyboard. technically true, but still, heeseung was texting you. your stomach did a flip as you typed out a reply.

you 10:02am i’m not as organized as her tho 10:02am might come back with ice cream instead of eggs

lee heeseung 10:03am not the worst trade 10:03am as long as it’s rainbow sherbert

you paused, smiling a little.

you 10:04am that’s a controversial opinion

lee heeseung 10:05am yeah? 10:05am you really gonna argue with the guy in charge of the grill?

you 10:05am depends 10:05am you gonna burn everything like last year?

he didn’t respond right away. you glanced over and caught yoona watching you, suspicious.

“what?”

“you’re smiling at your phone.”

you looked away. “heeseung wants butter and eggs.”

she narrowed her eyes. “right.”

you tossed a carton of rainbow sherbet in the cart. just in case.

the texts didn't stop there. everyone was busy from the moment you and yoona returned home, but heeseung still found reasons to message you with requests or snide comments—something he'd never done before, not even when you were younger and he still lived at home.

as you hurried around the house, prepping food and taking plates out, your phone buzzed continuously in your back pocket.

lee heeseung 10:44am can you bring the chairs from downstairs out

lee heeseung 11:23am does yoona have her speaker? mine's dead

lee heeseung 11:36am you still listen to this band??????

lee heeseung 11:40am mmmm they're kinda good actually 11:41am send me this playlist

lee heeseung 12:03pm i think that's jay and the guys can you let them in? helping my dad w something rn

"i'll get it!" yoona exclaimed cheerily, smoothing her hair down as she ran towards the door.

behind it were all of heeseung's friends from high school. jay was the first to come through, ruffling his hand on the top of yoona's head.

"hey yoonie, long time no see."

she glowered at him, knocking his arm away. her face brightened back up as jungwon came through the door, the color rising to her cheeks. "jungwon!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around him.

"hey yoona," he grinned.

niki stepped around them, toting a box of beer under his arm.

"don't let mrs. lee catch you with that," you said as he held his hand up to high-five you.

"oh, true... shit— umm... here," he said, shoving the box towards jake, whose hands were already full with a colorful bouquet of flowers.

the dark-haired boy stumbled, catching the box before it dropped. "oh, sure, make me the bad influence."

"i think you have enough mom points to cancel out," you smiled, nodding down at the flowers as they shed petals over the floor.

"it’s good to see you, y/n" jake smiled.

"can you guys move! i'm starving!" sunoo exclaimed, standing on his tiptoes to see what the holdup was. he and jungwon followed yoona towards the backyard, chatting excitedly.

"hi sunghoon," you grinned, reaching up to pull the tall boy in for a hug.

"y/nnn," he cooed, eyes crinkling at the sides. "still flunking chem?"

"only 'cuz you're not around to help me anymore."

"you could call, you know."

you smiled sheepishly. "mm, yeah... but i don't wanna bother you guys. you have a lot going on, i'm sure."

sunghoon scoffed. “just because heeseung acts like he has no time for anything outside of school doesn't mean same for the rest of us.”

you hummed, following him through the house to the backyard.

outside, the air smelled of smoke and grilled meat. yoona appeared by your side, her face flushed and happy. "hey," she said. "jungwon looks good, huh." she was giddy, her schoolgirl crush back in full swing for the summer.

"he does," you agreed, following her gaze to where he and sunoo were already picking at the skewers on the grill. heeseung laughed at them, sucking sauce from his thumb as jungwon burned his hand on one.

"do you think..." she started, her cheeks going even redder.

"that you should say something?"

she looked at you sheepishly.

"hm, let me think, what have i said to you every summer since the eighth grade?"

she laughed, head tilted back. "i know, i know. maybe one day i'll be brave like you."

your stomach flipped as you looked back at heeseung. you remembered the sound of his voice in the hall last night, and the sound of yours mixed with it.

"guess i imagined it." he'd said, a knowing look on his face.

you shook your head, turning back to your friend. "come on," you said, dragging her inside. "let's get changed."

——

heeseung pretended not to notice that you’d gone, but he noticed.

his hand itched to go to his phone, to send you another text that’d send you blushing like crazy, the way you had been all day.

you and his sister had disappeared inside, presumably to change into your swimsuits, and heeseung had to mentally prepare himself for your return. to see you prancing around the backyard with all your exposed skin, and to not be moved in any way, shape, or form.

yesterday, that would’ve been simple. easy.

yesterday, heeseung had never heard his name moaned from your mouth before. he’d never considered the idea of you fantasizing about him before, but now that he had, everything had changed.

he tried to focus on the story jay was telling, but all he could think about was your pretty little hands wedged between your legs, the thought of him playing in your mind. he hadn’t intended for you to hear him, honestly; he figured you were fast asleep the same as everyone else in the house. how wrong he’d been.

his body shivered at the memory of hearing your voice for the first time, the desperate whine that was barely audible from his room. he’d never come faster in his life.

“feels like so much has changed since we were here for christmas,” sunghoon pointed out, pulling a piece of beef from its skewer with his teeth.

“they tore down the old dance studio,” sunoo said, pouting sadly. “i wish i could’ve visited one last time.”

“i know,” heeseung said, cracking a can of beer open and taking a drink. “should’ve seen my mom, she threw a fit.”

“it always feels weird being back for the summer.”

“mm,” heeseung agreed, mind wandering back to you and how long he’d have to wait to see you come back downstairs.

you wore the same swimsuit every year, a modest little one piece that, now that he really thought about it, still somehow looked unbearably sexy on you. he said a silent ‘thank you’ that you only had the one. he didn’t think he could take it if you wore anything more revealing.

“seriously, everyone looks so different,” sunoo laughed. “i ran into beomgyu yesterday. he’s got, like, four new piercings.”

“oh, yeah. i’m pretty sure yeonjun got a tattoo when he went to cabo for spring break.”

"yoona got hot," jake said casually, tossing a chip into his mouth.

"dude, shut up," heeseung cringed.

“well obviously not to you,” sunghoon teased, nudging him with his shoulder.

jungwon shrugged. “no, he’s right. she’s gotten really pretty.”

“then why don’t you ask her out?” heeseung elbowed the younger boy, grimacing at the idea of anyone finding his sister attractive. she was weird as hell, and totally immature. not at all what he’d consider ‘really pretty’.

jake nodded. “yeah jungwon, it’d be about time. you’ve liked her for, what, five years?”

“tell ya what,” jay said, holding his hand out, “you ask yoona out, i’ll ask y/n out. double date.”

“dude, ew, that’s heeseung’s sister,” sunghoon said, making a face.

“y/n’s not!”

“they’re like the same age!”

“not even,” heeseung interjected, growing tense. “y/n’s older than yoon is.”

“so what? they’re inseparable. they might as well be related, too.”

“will you shut up?” heeseung complained, quieting the others. he rubbed at his temple frustratedly. “don’t compare them,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

he didn't like it when people compared you to his sister. you weren’t like her at all. you weren’t weird or immature. you were funny and intelligent, and plenty charming even without considering how pretty you were.

and yeah, you were almost the same age as his sister, but that didn’t matter. not when you’d always been the more grounded of the two—more responsible, more even-tempered, more grown up.

and he definitely didn’t need jay of all people thinking he had a chance. it was his name on your lips last night, his teasing that had you fumbling your words that morning.

“touchy,” sunoo remarked, stealing a chip from the bowl in jake’s hand.

“didn’t realize she made you so defensive,” jake smirked, handing the bowl back for him and jungwon to finish off. “if you don’t want anyone talking to her, maybe you should—“

“dude.” heeseung glared.

jay raised his brows, a knowing smirk tugging at the side of his mouth.

sunghoon let out a low whistle, tossing a ping pong ball in jake’s direction. “way to piss off your host,” he teased.

“damn, alright,” jake surrendered, holding his hands up. “possessive much?”

he has no idea, heeseung thought to himself. yes, he was possessive. it had taken one night to completely alter the way heeseung thought about you, but there was no going back now.

he wanted you.

he wanted you bad.

luckily for him, you were spending the night again, and heeseung was going to get you.

——

“jungwon said this one was pretty last summer,” yoona said cheerily, admiring herself in the mirror that hung on the back of her door. “do you think he’ll remember it?”

you glanced up from your own swimsuit, fumbling with the strings. “oh, definitely. no guy in his right mind would ever forget the way you look in that.”

“but do you think he’ll think it’s tacky? wearing the same one? maybe i should’ve gone shopping with you last week after all...”

“no way,” you assured her. “stop checking yourself out and help me with this.”

she begrudgingly left her reflection behind and took the strings out of your hands, smirking at you. “finally ditched the one piece, huh. trying to impress someone?”

you flushed. “no,” you said pointedly. “just thought it was time to change things up. m’not in high school anymore,” you mumbled.

it was the truth—you honest to god hadn’t been trying to impress anyone when you bought the bikini the week before. now, though… all you could think about was what heeseung would think about it.

a twinge of guilt rose as yoona finished with the strings, giving you an affectionate slap on the ass. “well you look amazing.” she grinned.

your stomach felt unbelievably bare as you skipped down the stairs behind yoona. thankfully, the two of you had hit the beach almost every day since getting off school for the summer, and your skin was bronzed and glowing. yoona’s sunblock smelled like coconut butter, but you still opted to put your perfume on, the familiar scent seeping into your skin.

yoona threw the back door open and you stepped out into the sunlight, eyes blurring as they adjusted to the change in light. as the world came back into view, you caught someone’s eye from across the pool.

heeseung.

you felt every muscle in your stomach clench, heat rising up your neck. his eyes were dark, greedy, barely contained. he dragged them down your body shamelessly, as if picturing what lay beneath your swimsuit, which already left little to the imagination.

it felt like his gaze was burning your skin. oh, he wanted you. there was no talking yourself out of it anymore. it was obvious from the look on his face—heeseung wanted to fuck you.

you tilted your head suggestively, holding his gaze long enough to make your stomach flutter. jay hit him on the arm, trying to get his attention back to whatever they were talking about. heeseung tore his eyes away from you, smiling. he shook his head lightly, bottom lip caught between his teeth.

the rest of the day passed in a hazy blur of heat and commotion. you and yoona managed to convince the guys to go swimming, even though sunghoon was the only one who’d come prepared with a swimsuit.

heeseung, ever the rebellious older brother, stood with his hands behind his back, flashing two beers as he conversed with jake and his mom. you and yoona smiled at mrs. lee over his shoulder as you took them, sneaking around the side of the house to where niki had snuck off with one of his own.

you didn’t really talk to heeseung. you hardly looked at him, but you felt his eyes on you. sometimes you’d glance at him and see him already looking, or his fingers flying over his phone. yours would buzz in your hand, his name popping up on your screen.

lee heeseung 04:12pm is it weird if i say you look good in my backyard

you 04:12pm yes 04:12pm but i’ll allow it 04:12pm good to know new swimsuit is a success

lee heeseung 04:13pm wasn’t talking about the outfit but now that u bring it up… yeah. that too.

your face burned at the way he spoke to you, knowing his sister was sitting right next to you and could look over at your phone at any moment. it felt risky, dangerous, like a secret shared only between the two of you.

heeseung wasn’t the only one who liked the way you looked. jay had always flirted shamelessly with you, and did so even more now. even jake paid you a few compliments, grinning as he bit his lip teasingly. none of them mattered to you, though it seemed to bother heeseung plenty.

as jay cracked another joke, causing you to throw your head back in laughter, your phone vibrated again against your leg. you glanced down at it.

lee heeseung 05:03pm it can’t have been that funny

you pretended not to notice the notification, smile widening as jay went on.

lee heeseung 05:05pm mmm like it when u ignore me 05:05pm keep letting him think he has a chance

you 05:06pm hm jealous much?

you typed out, half-listening.

lee heeseung 05:08pm nah 05:09pm don’t need to be

you watched his text bubble appear and disappear again, a third message popping into view.

lee heeseung 05:10pm i know who u think abt when ur cumming

that wiped the smile clean off your face. you slammed your phone down, aware of the color rising up your face. across the backyard, heeseung pretended not to see you, nodding along to whatever sunghoon was saying, the ghost of a smile on his face.

you excused yourself from the table. yoona called after you as you ducked back inside, cheeks burning with equal parts embarrassment and arousal. you’d been texting heeseung all day, flirting even, but you hadn’t expected him to be that direct.

so he knew what he did to you. and he seemed to get a kick out of it, too.

you closed the bathroom door behind you, leaning against the counter as you read the message again. i know who you think about when you’re cumming. it was so vulgar, so direct, it sent a jolt of desire shooting straight down your body.

the door opened in front of you, taking you by surprise. before you could announce yourself, heeseung was sliding into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

“heeseung—” you started, scrambling for something—anything—normal to say that wouldn’t reveal that you were looking at his texts.

he didn’t wait for you to finish.

you tensed as he closed the small gap between you, pressing you back into the edge of the counter, hands grabbing your hips. a small yelp escaped your mouth as he came closer, tilting his head to kiss you—to kiss you!—against the sink.

his mouth was soft and warm, opening against yours with a sense of urgency and desperation, as if he’d been holding himself back from grabbing and kissing you all day. your hands snaked around his neck, fingers digging into the back of his hair, earned a shaky breath from him, his grip on your hips tightening.

he groaned frustratedly. “i was gonna be good,” he grumbled, chasing the heat of your mouth. “was gonna wait.”

“then why didn’t you?” you asked, the pressure of his lower body pressed sending your head spinning.

“because you laughed at jay’s stupid joke like that. and tried to act like i wasn’t driving you crazy,” he said breathily. he smirked at you. “like you weren’t moaning my name last night.”

you whined against his lips, grabbing his shoulders and pulling him closer. his skin was hot under your fingers, warm from the sun beating down on him all day. he smelled like chlorine and grill smoke, lips sweet with the sugary taste of pineapple and beer. your thighs squeezed together, desire bubbling up your stomach and wetting the inside of your bikini bottoms.

“you really think i didn’t see you looking at me when yoona wasn’t around?”

“heeesung,” you whined, pressing your thighs together needily.

he pressed his lips to your neck, sucking harshly at your skin, followed by a rough bite. you hissed. that was definitely going to leave a mark, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to stop him.

“you think i don’t know who this swimsuit is for?” he said, voice low and growling, possessive.

you shivered as his hands slid up your waist, pushing under the strings that tied behind your back. his palms were cool against the heat of your skin, sending goosebumps rising up your arms.

“didn’t know you were such a tease, y/n,” he said against your neck, digging his fingers into your back. “walking around and smiling all pretty at everyone here. sunghoon likes you, did you know that?”

you did. he’d told you years ago how much he enjoyed spending time with you. it wasn’t a big deal. he wasn’t hung up on you or anything, but the way heeseung’s fingers pressed into you, you’d have thought sunghoon had challenged him about you.

“but he’s not the one you get off to, is he?”

“mmhm.” you shook your head, stabling yourself against the counter as heeseung’s knee pushed between your legs.

“no,” he purred, dragging his tongue across your skin. “it’s me. you moan all pretty just for me. can you do it again? wanna hear your voice, just like last night.”

your ground your hips forward, the pressure of his leg between your thighs sending your head falling back in pleasure. “heeseung,” you moaned, brows furrowing. “want you.”

“what’s that?”

“i want you,” you repeated, bringing your head up to look at him. he was watching you with his lip in his teeth, pupils blown as he took in the sight of your body grinding against his. “i want you really bad. didn’t… didn’t get enough last night.”

“of course not,” he said. “getting off to the sound of my voice isn’t enough for a pretty slut like you, is it? you just couldn’t help yourself, huh? the sound of your best friend’s brother coming in the other room got you all horny. did you touch yourself?”

he already knew the answer to that, but he wanted to hear you say it. you nodded, gripping his shoulders like they were the only thing keeping you standing. the way your thighs shook around his leg, they might have been.

“how?” he demanded, watching his hands on your waist in the mirror. the line down your spine twisted as you worked your hips against him, those cute little dimples in your back rising and falling above the waistline of your swimsuit.

“my hands,” you answered breathily.

“both of them?”

“mhm.” you nodded.

“fuck,” he whispered, moving his hands down to your hips, dragging your hips harder against his thigh. “you wanted it that bad?”

you nodded again as your upper half fell back over the sink, your elbows propped on the counter. he watched your stomach stretch and contort, the fabric of your bikini sliding over your skin.

“mmm,” he hummed, pressing his mouth to your chest. “so pretty. don’t remember you being this fucking pretty.” he kissed his way up your throat, stamping his lips over your jaw and cheek.

“heeseung,” you said quietly, looking up at him with that adorable twist in your brows. “i want— i need to feel you. want you. now. please?”

he smirked. “can’t even wait for my friends to go home? or maybe you want them here. want them to hear me make you say my name again?”

“i don’t care,” you complained, wrapping an arm around the back of his neck. “just want you.”

his lips curved into a smile. “yeah?” his hand trailed down your stomach, squeezing into the small space between your hips and his leg. “just had to ask, baby. been waiting all day for you to ask.”

you growled impatiently, pushing his hand beneath the fabric of your swimsuit where you were burning hot and soaked. he groaned, lips tickling over your neck—

knock, knock.

you both froze.

another knock came, louder this time.

“heeseung?” sunghoon’s voice floated through the door. “are you in there? jake fucked something up with the grill."

you felt heeseung’s breath hitch against your skin. you were still wrapped halfway around him, his hand still between your thighs.

he swore under his breath. “yeah, two seconds,” he called, voice wavering slightly.

you smirked, finding the situation funnier than you probably should have given how seriously fucked you’d both be if you were discovered. just to tease him, you pressed your hips against his hand again. it was just an inch, but he hissed, eyes darting up to yours. “you’re the worst,” he whispered.

you grinned, gaze going from his lips to his eyes. “that’s what you get,” you replied. “messing around with a—what was it you said? ‘pretty slut like me’?”

he kissed you once—a firm, frustrated press to your lips—then straightened, dragging his hand through his hair as if it might help calm him down. “coming,” he grumbled, opening the door just wide enough to slip through without sunghoon seeing you.

you watched him go, half-dazed, as the door clicked shut behind him. you didn’t dare breathe until you heard his voice outside again, casual and unbothered, fade down the hall. “yeah, yeah, i got it.”

——

the evening came and went in a blur. you were distracted—you knew it, the others knew it. yoona had to repeat things multiple times, snapping to get your attention, teasing you about what a blockhead you could be at times.

“seriously, what’s up with you?” she asked, crossing her arms suspiciously.

you gave her a sorry look, trying to ignore the way your swimsuit bottoms clung to your skin, sticky and wet from how turned on heeseung made you. “i’m sorry, i think i’m just tired.” you lied. “didn’t sleep very well last night.”

“you’re a champ, y/n,” yoona’s dad said, clapping a hand on your shoulder as he passed with a pile of dishes. “thanks for helping out all day. don’t know what we’d do without you.”

and if you knew i was about to fuck your son in the bathroom ten minutes ago? you thought, smiling up at him. hopefully, you’d never know the answer to that question.

the boys helped clean up like the good friends they were, arguing over who got to take the leftovers home. mrs. lee laughed at their eagerness, promising to make more for everyone to take home.

“are you guys going to the beach?” she asked, handing you another stack of plates to put away.

“hell yes,” yoona interjected, staring them all down. “we have to. it’s a tradition.”

“actually, yoona…” jungwon said, looking up from the sink. “i was wondering… well, that new disney reboot is out. it’ll probably be pretty bad,” he chuckled, cheeks pink. “but the last showing is tonight… do you want to see it with me?”

the way yoona’s face lit up, her eyes going wide like two saucers, you’d have thought jungwon had gotten down on one knee and asked her to marry him. she agreed eagerly, scrambling upstairs to change clothes, dishes forgotten.

“lame,” jay drawled. “you’re really ditching us for a girl, wonie?”

“am not,” jungwon shot back, tsking as he turned back to the sink. “it’s not a girl,” he muttered seriously. “it’s yoona.”

“well, we’re going anyways,” jake decided. he turned to heeseung’s parents. “you guys wanna come with?”

mrs. lee smiled. “that’s sweet of you, jake, but no. we have plans in town.”

mr. lee wiggled his eyebrows. “take notes boys. thirty-four years and i still take her out on dates. you know what they say—”

“yeah, yeah, happy wife, happy life,” heeseung finished for his father. “you say it too often for us to forget.”

“you’re coming with, right, heeseung?” jay prompted, emptying the contents of a chip bag into his mouth before tossing it in the trash.

your throat tightened. his eyes were on you, you could feel the burn of them on your skin.

“i don’t know, i’ve got school stuff,” he said casually.

“dude, it’s the first week of summer. what could you possibly have to do?”

heeseung raised a brow. “and this is why i go to the school i do, and you go to the one you do.”

“oh, whatever. piss off, ivy league.”

“language,” mrs. lee reminded him, raising her brows. jay mumbled an apology, making a face at heeseung as she turned to you. “i guess you’ll be staying behind too then, y/n?”

you looked up, eyes wide. “what?”

“i thought i heard you say you were tired. you’re welcome to stay here while we’re gone, get an early night.”

“although, i cant promise yoona won’t wake you when she gets back. i’m sure she’ll have lots to tell you,” mr. lee said, winking at jungwon, who turned bright red.

“right, okay,” you said simply, ignoring the feeling of heeseung’s eyes on you. “thanks, guys.”

“you guys get out of here, we’ll finish up,” mr. lee said, ushering you out of the kitchen. “thanks for your help today.”

people started peeling off after that, jake and sunghoon racing to see which one got to the car first. yoona held you hostage upstairs as she tried outfit after outfit on, growing more despaired by the minute.

at one point, jungwon poked his head in the door. “you almost ready, yoona?”

“jungwon!” she shrieked, pushing him out of her room. “get out of here! i still haven’t figured out what i’m gonna wear.”

he gave her a confused look as she shoved him down the hall. “why does it matter?” he exclaimed, “you look pretty regardless.”

“god! out! out! wait downstairs!”

you laughed as she came back in. “you’re gonna scare him off, yoon.”

“good. then i don’t have to worry about acting like a total idiot tonight,” she cried, clearly distressed.

“you’re not going to act like an idiot. even if you did, jungwon has known you too long to be surprised.”

“thanks,” she smiled, pulling a sweet little black sundress out of her closet. “you’re not mad?”

“why would i be mad?”

“because i’m ditching you…”

you shook your head, smiling at the stupidity that. “of course not. i’ve been waiting for this to happen for years, yoona. i’m happy for you.”

her concern melted away. “okay, good. sorry i’m dumping you with my brother. maybe some of the guys will stay around and you won’t have to hang out with just him.”

“maybe,” you answered. hopefully not.

her parents were gone by the time yoona was ready to leave with jungwon. you waved bye to them before padding quietly through the house, searching for anyone who was still around.

by the time you made it back outside, the sun had dipped fully below the trees, turning the backyard a dusky purple.

heeseung was already there, sitting at the edge, legs dangling in the water. he didn’t say anything when you stepped out, just turned to watch you, taking a sip of his beer.

“everyone’s gone?” you asked.

“yup. just you and me now.”

you sat down beside him, grabbing the bottle from his hand and taking a drink. “kind of nice like this,” you said, relaxing into a state of silence you hadn’t had since the early morning, when he’d first come into the kitchen.

heeseung didn’t say anything at first. the sky went to navy, the light from the pool the only thing that illuminated his face in the dark. then he looked at you, nodding towards the water. “come on.”

“what?” you asked, watching as he stood and pulled his shirt over his head. you exclaimed as he dove in, splashing you with water.

“come on,” he insisted, breaking the surface and shaking the water from his hair.

you raised a brow at him. “thought you were trying to be good.”

he hummed, the light glinting off his earrings. “i said i was. doesn’t mean i still am.”

you sucked in a breath as he waded to your legs, sliding his hands up the side of your thighs. you let him pull you into the water, the feeling of his arms wrapping around you sending heat up your abdomen.

he grabbed your legs and wrapped them around his waist, leaning forward to press his mouth onto yours again. it was slower this time, more deliberate. his tongue curled against your lips, teasing them further apart to kiss you deeper.

hours of pent-up tension rose inside you, a soft sigh escaping you as he kissed you harder—sloppy and desperate.

“fucking pretty,” he mumbled, bringing his lips down your neck. “couldn’t stop looking at you all day.”

you gasped as his teeth scraped gently against your skin, arms tightening around his shoulders. the water lapped at you gently, cool against your skin. you shivered, though not from the chill. heeseung’s body was burning hot against yours, his skin flushed red from spending all day in the sun.

your fingers trailed up the nape of his neck, tangling in the damp hair there. “heeseung…”

he groaned against your collarbone, his arms wrapped around your waist. “wanted to fuck you so bad in the bathroom. fucking sunghoon—” he complained, kneeding your skin with his hands.

“leave him alone,” you laughed, pushing the wet hair back from his face. “not his fault you decided to take on grill master today.”

“yeah, well, i could hardly contain myself the rest of the day. never wanted to fuck anyone this bad before,” he mumbled, and your heart fluttered.

heeseung had been with plenty of girls before, and maybe he’d said the same thing to them, too, but you didn’t care. his words sent chills up your spine. he kissed you again breathlessly, pulling your body flush against his as his hands wandered down your body.

“could’ve— ah!” you gasped as he sucked a deep red mark into your neck. “—could’ve done something about it,” you said.

“i wanted to,” he answered, voice low. all his attention was on your neck now, pressing soft, pretty kisses into your skin, as if to make up for the teeth marks he’d left before. “wanted to drag you upstairs, or into the garage. fuck—” he paused to grin up at you. “—would’ve dragged you behind the grill if i had to.”

“mm, classy” you said. “i’m sure yoona would’ve loved that. your parents, too.”

you meant to tease him, but the fact that you two weren't supposed to be together, couldn't be seen together, seemed to turn him on even more.

his grip hardened on you, pressing you against the edge of the pool. it would’ve scraped at your back if it weren’t for his hands, providing a barrier between your skin and the rough stone.

with one smooth lift, he had you perched back on the concrete, his hands smoothing their way up your inner thighs. “they’re not here now.” he growled, pushing your legs apart.

you leaned back on your hands, watching giddily as heeseung pressed his open mouth against the wet fabric of your bikini bottons. his breath was hot on your thighs, the pressure of his tongue through your swimsuit had your eyes rolling back, body lying flat on the ground.

heeseung never actually touched you, he ate you out over your swim bottoms, mouth separated from your cunt by that flimsy little stretch of fabric. but it didn’t matter, you were a moaning mess under his tongue. your back arched, legs lifting from the edge of the pool as he pressed his face into you, lapping hungrily at your pussy.

“hee— heeseung,” you cried, fingers clawing at the concrete beneath you. your thighs trembled on either side of his head, hips grinding against his mouth.

he pulled away, wrapping a hand around your thigh as he kissed the skin next to your cunt. “so wet, baby. want you to be totally soaked before i take you upstairs and fuck the shit out of you.”

“now,” you spluttered. “now, please, don’t make me wait any longer.”

you yelped as he bit the sensitive skin on your inner thigh, hoisting himself out of the water, dripping in streams down his chest. you stumbled upstairs together, drunk on the knowledge that you had the entire house to yourself.

heeseung pushed you backwards into his room, his door bouncing off the wall as he picked you up and dropped you onto his mattress. he stood back to admire the way you looked, splayed on top of his comforter, begging him to come closer.

“how did i not notice!?” he exclaimed, crawling over you, nipping at your stomach, chest, and shoulders. “how did i never notice how fucking hot you are?”

a laugh bubbled up your throat—at him, at the absurdity of this, at how much his words delighted you. “shut up,” you giggled.

“i’m being serious,” he said, grabbing your wrists and pinning them down by your head. “how the fuck was i so fucking blind?”

“hmm, too busy sleeping with the girls at your school, i suppose,” you teased.

“fuck the girls at school,” he muttered, pulling your swim bottoms down your legs. he groaned, kissing your hips. “so fucking pretty.”

this time, when he disappeared between your legs, you felt it all. the laugh died in your throat as he curled his tongue against you, your smile turning to a gasp.

“oh, fuck, heeseung,” you moaned, twisting your fingers into his hair.

he pushed your legs back, lapping at your cunt like he was trying to lick everything up, like he couldn’t let a single drop go to waste. “say my name again, baby. wanna hear your pretty voice.”

you did as he asked, moans growing louder and louder, surely audible from outside his room. you didn’t care. you clawed at him as he sucked your clit, the cold metal of his rings bumping against your skin as he slid a finger inside you.

“mmm, nice and wet for me,” he praised, licking his lips. “what am i supposed to do with you? all needy for me. you want it that bad?” he asked.

you nodded, digging your nails into his skin.

“you’re gonna sound even prettier when i’m inside of you.”

“mhm, i’m ready,” you whined. “needed you since i heard you last night.”

“yeah?” he asked, sitting back to pull his trunks down. his cock sprang up, long and flushed and beautiful.

you nodded again. “sounded s— so pretty. never wanted to fuck you before.”

“what did you think about?”

you groaned as he pressed himself against you, coating his length in your wetness. your hips bucked, desperate for more, desperate to just get him inside of you already.

“y-you watching me,” you admitted, inching your hips towards him. “what you’d say, if you saw me.”

“oh yeah? what did you think i’d say, princess?”

you bit your lip. “that i was filthy. touching myself with my best friend in the room next to mine. that i was a filthy mess.”

he angled himself between your thighs, the head of his cock pressing against your pussy. “mm, not filthy, baby,” he said, bending down to kiss you again. “pretty.”

you arched your back, fingers trailing up his spine.

“but i can make you filthy. you want that, pretty girl? want me to fuck you filthy?”

you nodded, tears pricking the corner of your eyes. you wanted him so bad. you needed him. he was taking his sweet time, teasing you with his words, but you couldn’t wait any longer. you clawed at him, trying to pull him into you.

heeseung groaned, head dropping between his shoulders, as he slid inside you.

“fuck,” he said, pushing his hips into yours roughly. you were so wet, juices dripping down his thighs as he fucked into you, groaning.

you wriggled needily beneath him, curling your hips up to meet him at every stroke, swimsuit straps falling down your shoulders. he leaned forward and pressed his lips to your neck, admiring the series of red marks he’d left down the sides. those would be nasty the next day, but the thought of it made heeseung harden inside you.

let everyone see them, he thought. let the whole world see how good you’d been for him.

“ah— ah, fuck, yes,” you cried, digging your nails into his shoulders.

“mm, feels so fucking good,” he gasped, reaching a hand back to grab the back of your thigh. “feel so fucking good, y/n. if i’d known—” he hissed, biting his lip. “if i’d known you felt this good, would’ve fucked you a long time ago.”

“please, heesung,” you whimpered, scratching down his back until his skin stung.

“should’ve been my first,” he panted, curling his fingers into his blanket. “wouldn’t have known what to do with you, all wet for me like this. would’ve finished the second i was inside.”

you reached your hands out to rake them through his hair, fingers curling around the soft strands and tugging, needing more. he moaned, hips stuttering into yours as your mouth attached to the side of his neck, your tongue soft and wet on his skin.

his mouth fell open, a moan scratching out the back of his throat as you stretched around him, taking him so well.

he rocked forward, buried so deep inside you that your waist stretched, head pressing back into his mattress. he filled you just right, making sure to give you every single inch until you were crying out, gripping his arms.

he watched hungrily as your face twisted, eyes squeezed shut, those pink lips of yours parted in ecstasy. it was like he couldn’t even feel you on his cock, he was too preoccupied with watching every subtle change in your expression. he felt like he could watch you for hours, panting, tongue lolling as he buried himself deeper inside you.

you clamped a hand over your mouth, thighs squeezing him on either side as he bottomed out inside of you. he snatched your wrist away from your face.

“don’t do that,” he warned, breathless. “let me hear you. tell me how good you feel, baby.”

“heeseung, i’m—” you wailed, twisting your head to the side. "feels so good."

“that’s right, show me how filthy that pussy is, princess. make a mess on me.”

your brows furrowed, beautiful, as he leaned down, swallowing the sound of your cries. you groaned against his tongue, grinding your hips against his, the friction against your clit sending your head reeling.

“come on, baby,” he coaxed. “i’m right here. take what you want.”

you moaned, low and guttural.

he grinned gleefully at the way your voice broke, thighs shaking around him. your body tensed under him as he pressed his forehead against yours, pulling him closer by the neck.

surely, the neighbors could hear you now. heeseung didn’t give a fuck. he wanted to see you all the way undone. wanted to see how loud you could be for him.

“i’m—” you gasped, “i’m gonna—”

“good girl,” he praised, “wanna feel you come all over my cock. i’m not pulling out, need to feel you.”

his words sent you hurdling over the edge, your hips lifting off the mattress as pleasure crashed over your body. your mind went blank, hands scrambling up his back as you moaned his name, over and over.

heeseung’s stomach tightened at the sound of your babbling, at the way your fingers fluttered over his shoulders. he ground his teeth together, groaning longingly as he snapped his hips into yours. your pussy clenched around him, riding out the height your orgasm in a way that sent stars bouncing around the edges of his vision.

he panted, hips stuttering, arms shaking, as the tension boiling in his stomach finally snapped, cum spilling out of his cock.

“f—fuck, fuck, y/n,” he moaned, grabbing the side of your face as he kissed you. you drank the sound in.

his moans vibrated against your lips, so needy and pretty, just like the night before. only this time, he was on top of you, face buried in your neck, dick still hard inside of you.

“fuck,” he drawled, pushing himself inside of you one more time, reveling at the feeling of cum leaking out around him. “stay here,” he said, eyes still closed, brows furrowed. “stay with me tonight. please?”

you laughed. “and how do you want me to explain that to yoona.”

“fuck yoona.”

“hey,” you said, frowning at him.

he shook his head. “fine. hang out with her all you want. but when she falls asleep, come here. don’t go to the guest room.”

you bit your lip, trailing your finger across his collarbone. “fine… but we have to wake up early. she can’t know i slept here.”

he scoffed, grinning as he bent down to kiss you. “fine. not a problem.” he bit at your neck again, softer this time. “we won't be sleeping anyways.”

#lee heeseung #lee heesung x reader #lee heesung smut #enhypen #reader insert #older brother heeseung #praise kink go brrrr #possessive heeseung #heeseung fanfic #heeseung x reader #heeseung fluff #this is so indulgent #count how many times i used the word pretty #guppiechuu

1K notes · View notes

swtheartz · 3 months ago

Text

info : AFAB!reader but no gender mentioned, reader is a healer, spit kink, dacryphilia, cunninglingus mentioned, blowjobs mentioned, sexual content, they’re all freaks

a / n : i’m gonna start tagging people in my posts so if u wanna be tagged?? lmk!!!!! also hi lx :3

each version of mark has their own unique healer. their dynamics with each other are all so vastly different—all of them think theirs is the best. they’re annoying about it, too, all obsessed with their versions of reader. none of them would have it any other way.

mainstream mark is so casual about it. their relationship is by far the most normal one. a little unofficial, sure, but it’s not like he cares. in his mind, you’re not going anywhere and he isn’t either.

“i, uh, just usually go to them after a fight. it’s not always on purpose, just. . . just sometimes. it’s weird, but they don’t have to heal by touching me. i’m not elaborating on that.”

no goggles mark is definitely one of the weirder ones. laughs about it, is excited to talk about it.

“oh! dude, i love it when we fight. usually ends up with them under me. it’s funny, actually—eating them out works just fine whenever they don’t wanna heal me. pussy juice of life, i swear-”

“they don’t have to heal with their hands,” viltrumite mark looks thoughtful, genuinely thinking about it. his relationship with his version of you is mundane, if anything. they’ve got their own quarters in the viltrum empire, and well. . .

“i prefer their mouth.” he admits, arms crossed over his chest.

omni mark can’t help but scoff. “we don’t fight. i get hurt sometimes, and they heal me.”

“you don’t fight? what’s the fun in that? like, seriously. do you guys even fuck??”

“. . . i prefer it when they cry,” omni mark hums, almost prideful with the way he says it.

they’ve all got their own preferences—whether it be them eating you out, making you cry on their dick, or sloppy makeouts—they get healed one way or another.

#ʚ — heartz : drabble #teehee #mark grayson x reader #mark grayson #invincible x reader #mark grayson variants #invincible imagine #invincible variants #invincible smut #yandere mark grayson #mark grayson imagine #mark grayson smut #gn reader #gender neutral reader

2K notes · View notes

coolwyous · 11 days ago

Text

┈─★ 𝘪'𝘥 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝙥𝙤��𝙣𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙬 .

⊹ ࣪ ˖ you give yourself three rules as you make it onto the women’s volleyball team: 1. don’t fail any classes, 2. don’t get kicked off the team, and 3. don’t fall in love with any of your teammates. the first two are easy enough. but after meeting the team’s broody, guarded team captain, you realize you’ll have to try very hard not to fall in love with sophia laforteza.

ˎˊ˗ 🌌 ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ୭˚. ⠀ ᵎᵎ ⠀ 🗝️

➴ pairing: volleyball captain!sophia laforteza x f!volleyball player!reader.

➴ genre + wc: 15k, slow burn, onesided rivals to lovers, angst and fluff, ice queen sophia, she turns mommy so fast, reader is lowkey a big dork.

➴ you might want to tune in...: pov - ariana grande. ♫

┈─★ a/n: my first sophia fic <3 long overdue and now i'm lowkey addicted i fr miss being a sophia bias..... hope you guys enjoy, lmk what u think!! <3

“cyclones’ beloved libero retiring due to injury.”

you remember reading the article, at the end of your first semester in community college. your best friend put the idea in your head. malibu is a 6 hour drive from your small town, but you hop on the bus with a crazy, stupid idea, and pray it’s crazy enough to work.

you step into the gym and let out a deep breath. this is your ticket into something bigger.

“hi, um, y/n y/ln,” you greet the coach, recognizing her from all the articles you had read. “i emailed you guys.”

the assistant coach perches his arms on his hips and gives you a look of disbelief. “a walk on?”

you swallow down nervously. it’s not ideal, to be infiltrating this practice before their season has even started, a shot in the dark in the hopes that they haven’t already started training up a new libero. what even is your game plan? waltz up, show off your skills, and pray they see your potential enough to recruit you on the spot?

(well, yes, that is the plan, but it doesn’t make it any less intimidating to have all these eyes start to draw to you, as if you’re invading their secret space.)

you try to avoid the attention your presence is bringing to you and stay focused on the conversation with the two coaches.

“freshman?” they ask.

“sophomore,” you clarify, before clearing your throat nervously. “i play libero.”

“why didn’t i see you during the off season?” he asks.

“i played club, i was homeschooled,” you explain simply, as they both turn to each other to review something between themselves. you feel so awkward, an outsider, dressed up to play, to beg for a chance to join a team that’s already got so much synergy between them.

“i remember you—” the coach says, but before he can say anything else, there’s the sharp crack of a ball landing directly in between the two of you. you jump back in shock, looking up to meet the intense gaze of a dark haired girl, eyes fixed on you. you swallow down nervously, and she walks up with a calculated coldness that makes your chest tense.

“this team hasn’t had a walk-on in years,” the girl says sharply. you’re shocked about how much she’s heard despite you guys talking quietly. did the coaches mention you and your impromptu tryout today? you try to flash her a smile to indicate you’re no harm, but she instantly sharpens her eyes at you. “not sure why you’re smiling. arrogance isn’t cute.”

her thick, dark hair is pulled back into a perfect ponytail, kept out of her eyes by a wide headband. her eyes are dark, intense, and feel like they’re looking through you. everything about her screams composure— her kneepads are in perfect condition, her shoes are perfectly unscuffed, her tshirt tucked perfectly into her shorts in a way that makes you almost confused as to how she doesn’t have a single wrinkle. everything about this girl just looks so unrealistically perfect.

“no, yeah, totally,” you stammer, watching as she picks the ball up off the ground. you shake your head. “not trying to be cocky. sorry.”

“easy, soph,” the coach waves her off, before turning back to you. “y/n, join us for practice today. we’ll do a scrimmage at the end and see if you’re up to snuff.”

you nod appreciatively, and all you can feel are the harsh eyes of this girl burning a hole in the side of your head.

the coach motions for you to go get stretched, and you jog over to the other girls, waving as politely as you can manage. much to your relief, they welcome you warmly, encouraging you to warm up with them. you try to avoid looking back behind your shoulder, out of fear that the girl is still glaring you down.

you join the girls as they all get into their first warmups, and you end up directly behind this girl in the line to practice setting. you want to extend an olive branch, to express that you’re excited to get a chance to practice with them, that you’ve admired their team for a while and you recognize her as one of the best setters on the west coast conference.

she doesn’t give you a chance, shooting an icy gaze over her shoulder at you.

“don’t get in my way,” she warns simply, running up as the ball comes her way to make the first set.

“i’ll do my best,” you breathe.

by the time their practice ends, you’re dripping sweat, but it’s been fun to enjoy playing with a team like this all over again. your community college team was nothing in comparison, these girls are elite on several levels above what you’ve ever seen. but it excites you, and it makes you hopeful that with how good you’ve gotten over the years, you can convince them this is where you belong.

the assistant coach waves you over, and you comply immediately.

“what were your grades like?” he asks, looking over something on a clipboard.

“good,” you say quickly, your eyes widening. “why?”

the head coach interrupts, smiling broadly. “wanna play volleyball for me?”

“no way,” you breathe. “if you’re joking that’s super mean.”

“you’ll be our newest cyclone,” she beams, holding out her hand to you for a shake. “i’ll figure out application stuff with you. scholarship might not come until you’ve completed the season, but academics might be enough to get you through the first semester. welcome to the team.”

“thank you for the chance,” you breathe, feeling the emotion bubbling in your chest. “you have no idea how excited i am.”

you know most of the girls are looking at this point, but you feel one set of eyes harsher than the rest of them. you try to ignore it and not let it ruin this moment for you.

you get moved into campus and set your mind to ensure that the next practice you go to, you give it your all, eager to prove yourself to the girls on this team. you try to show up to the court early, and you quickly realize making friends might not actually be impossible, considering a majority of the girls are extremely friendly and even more eager to welcome you than you are to introduce yourself.

“y/n, hey!” they call out excitedly, waving to you where you’re already stretching.

you spend the next chunk of warmups small talking with your new teammates, doing your best to memorize their names and whatever quirks you pick up about each of them.

“were you seriously homeschooled?” manon, a junior, tilts her head at you curiously.

“it made it easier to focus on volleyball,” you smile. sure, it’s kind of lame you didn’t get to have the same high school experience as most other people, but you got the chance to travel all over with your club team, and the skills it gave you were obviously good enough to land you here, so you can’t be too upset at how it panned out for you.

“people ask me if i was homeschooled,” megan, a chatty brunette, blurts. “whatever that’s supposed to mean.”

lara lets out a laugh. “oh, you know exactly what it-”

“look busy,” daniela warns quickly, cutting you all off as her eyes go wide.

you’re not quite sure what she could mean by that, but the moment you look up, you realize someone is coming towards you.

sophia laforteza, you quickly learned her name. the no-nonsense, scarily-intense team captain of the malibu state university cyclones.

by the time you realize why daniela freaked out, you look around to realize the rest of them have jumped into very serious stretches. you quickly reach for your knees and pull them up to your chest, trying to look like you’re actually stretching.

“supreme leader sophia,” manon nods. you think the interaction is harmless enough, but somehow, it’s enough to set the captain off.

“bannerman, go take a lap,” she snaps quickly. manon groans but complies, standing up and starting to jog around the court. your palms start to sweat, but sophia eyes your group and moves on, and you breathe a little easier as the distance between you increases.

“so serious,” lara mumbles under her breath.

“is she always like this?” you ask, eyeing her nervously as you all keep stretching.

“no. she’s playing it up for the newbies,” daniela rolls her eyes.

“uh yes, yes she is always like that,” megan pushes back, shaking her head. “strict as hell.”

sophia’s voice cuts in from several yards away where she stands.

“you can take a lap too, skiendiel.”

“fuck,” megan groans, standing up. “how the fuck can you even hear me, leader?”

you bite back a laugh at megan’s nickname for the captain. you had heard manon call her that too, leader, but figured it was a teasing thing. not something all the girls joined in on.

“i have a sixth sense for complaining,” sophia says dryly.

as if sophia’s warmup drills weren’t enough, practice itself is absolutely grueling. you realize this team is no joke, and if you’re going to keep up, you’re going to have to take this extremely seriously.

“bro, my asscheeks,” megan whines as you guys reach the end of the 2 hour practice, each of you dripping in sweat. your legs are shaking and you wonder how the hell you’re planning to keep up with such an intense team.

but sophia laforteza waltzes by, her skin barely glistening with sweat, not a single hair out of place in her ponytail.

“more complaining, damn. if you’ve got the energy for that, then you’ve got another lap in you, skeindiel,” sophia grins, almost devilishly. you want to laugh— she seems borderline insane, but you can tell it doesn’t come from a place of true intent to harm.

“oh yeah? what if i fucking die, then what?” megan pushes back, tossing her head back in exhaustion.

“so dramatic, megan, you know it’s okay to shut up every once in a while?” manon groans, sensing where the youngest girl’s complaints are about to land them.

you can sense it too, after having witnessed sophia’s reaction earlier, and as predicted, sophia’s eyes sharpen as megan responds.

“i think we’ll all take an extra lap, just to show megan some support,” sophia announces, whistling quickly to catch the team’s attention. you hear a collective groan from everyone, and your coaches simply laugh at you all. you can tell that sophia’s ability to keep you guys practicing is something they’ve approved— all her power is clearly given from the people in charge, probably for good reason.

“meiyok, i’m going to fucking kill you,” daniela grits irritatedly.

“you like seeing people suffer,” manon groans at sophia as she stands up from where she was laying and begins to jog off.

“walk-on can handle it,” sophia says, pointing at you, surprising you that she’s chosen to bring you into it. “that’s the only person i hear not complaining, actually.”

you can’t help but find the nickname endearing. maybe it’s the worst timing possible, but it brings a smile to your face.

“walk-on?” you tilt your head. “is that supposed to be me?”

sophia arches a brow, turning her head to orient towards you. “problem?”

“surely you could have come up with something more creative?” you grin.

you hear a collective gasp from your teammates. something tells you that trying to banter with sophia laforteza is a very big, very dumb mistake.

“you know, maybe you, megan, and manon can finish with some burpees while the rest of us cool down,” sophia says, her jaw hardening. “see if that helps your attitude problem.”

i don’t have an attitude problem, you want to push back by saying, but you realize this girl is probably on a rampage, and getting in her way is a death wish. you bite your tongue and start the last lap, mentally preparing for the extra task sophia has given you.

“damn,” you gasp for breath, collapsing on the floor after the three of you finally finish.

“that was rough,” manon groans, only for megan to gag and dry heave in response.

“i’m going to puke and the season hasn’t even started yet,” the youngest whines.

“she usually loves the newbies,” dani says in surprise, having waited for you guys with lara as the rest of the team headed off to the locker room. “not sure what you did to her.”

“you replaced—” megan starts, but manon quickly cuts her off.

“oh shit,” manon nods. “that makes sense.”

“the old libero,” lara realizes, looking at you. “they were really close.”

“where is she now?” you ask curiously.

“she took a gap year,” megan tells you, and the others look amongst themselves anxiously. “mommy sophia’s been sensitive about it. those two did everything together.”

“mommy sophia?” you laugh, but they gloss over it, clearly dead serious.

“megan…” lara warns.

“what? she hasn’t always been this angry,” megan holds her hands up to defend herself. “serious, yeah, intense, yeah, a little scary, also yeah, but not this flat out angry.”

“no, i get it,” you shake your head, trying to empathize. “i wouldn’t want my business all out there either. not a great look. we don’t have to keep talking about it.”

the small group gives you a look of approval as you all head towards the locker room.

“i miss the old sophia,” megan admits quietly under her breath, just loud enough for you to hear.

——

your dorm isn’t perfect, but the malibu state campus is absolutely gorgeous, and being a 10 minute walk from the beach is enough to make up for your broken window and slightly unnerving roommate that won’t say a word to you. sure, you miss your home city, but it isn’t the end of the world, and the girls on your team are so friendly, it makes the homesickness even easier to handle than you imagined.

(at least, most of the girls on your team are friendly.)

you spot her on the first day of class, sitting alone at a 2 person table in your humanities class. you approach her without hesitation, just how you would for anyone else you know.

“hey! we have a class together. just my luck, huh?” you beam, excited to see a familiar face, dropping your backpack down on the table with a thud. “can i sit here?”

she looks perfect, as she always does, somehow making a black hoodie and gym shorts look elegant. her long dark hair is tucked back behind her ears, and her lips are so gorgeously glossy. sophia is naturally gorgeous, infuriatingly so, but you’ve never been the insecure type, more so just grateful to exist at the same time as people this pretty so you can admire them.

her eyes narrow at you, something dark and unreadable in them.

“you just did,” she says simply, staring at the backpack in front of her.

“i guess i should have asked before i parked my ass,” you realize, grinning sheepishly as you take up the seat next to her. “good point.”

“y/n,” she says firmly, looking back at the front of the room. “i can’t hear, and i need to focus.”

you were too busy trying to get on her good side that you didn’t even notice the professor had started introducing herself. you sink into your seat, trying to rush to get your laptop out.

“totally. sorry.”

she says nothing. she doesn’t even look back at you for the rest of the class. she doesn’t say “bless you” when you sneeze loudly in the middle of class, she doesn’t laugh like the rest of them when you introduce yourself and admit you have zero fun facts about yourself because you’re painfully incapable of self-reflection to know anything about yourself. when it’s her turn to introduce herself, she simply says her name and that she plays volleyball, sitting back down without so much as a smile. she doesn’t say anything when your computer dies halfway through the lecture and you have nothing left to take notes on, even though she’s siting next to the outlet and seems to have the same type of laptop as you do.

you’re not brave enough to ask her anyways.

class ends, and she doesn’t bother looking in your direction.

“don’t be late to practice,” she says simply, swooping up her backpack over her shoulder in a quick, graceful motion. “we need to win our first away game. sets the tone for the season.”

that’s it. you watch as she walks off unceremoniously, almost as if you didn’t exist except to inconvenience her.

“jesus christ,” you whisper under your breath.

———

your season starts a month later, and your first away game gives you a taste of what to expect.

“who’d you get roomed with?” you ask the small group of 5 that you had grown particularly close to as you guys cram into the uber to your hotel. you’ve missed traveling for volleyball, and the anticipation in your bones for tomorrow’s game makes you even more eager.

“i always get manon,” daniela says.

“and nobody else can handle megan’s mess but lara,” manon grins.

“hey, whatever,” megan whines from the back seat, where she’s been stuck in between all your bags of luggage.

“i got sophia,” you breathe quietly, thinking back to the email of the hotel roommate arrangement your coaches had sent out that morning. “should be fine, right?”

“walk-on, you’ll be quick to learn that supreme leader sophia is a drill sergeant with lipgloss,” manon laughs.

“very shiny, very pretty lipgloss,” you defend her.

“she’s a junior,” lara informs you, as if it puts some things into perspective for you. “for her, it’s time to start stressing about the real world next year.”

as a sophomore, you know you’ve got another 2 full seasons coming for you.

“second to final season,” lara goes on. “mommy sophia’s trying to make the most of it.”

you laugh again at lara and megan’s stupid nickname, as if “supreme leader” wasn’t bad enough.

you guys get to the hotel and your coaches send a group text warning everyone to be in bed by 9pm. you part ways with your group once the uber drops you off and go up to your room, only to find sophia has beat you there. she’s taken the bed closest to the window, her bag set up neatly. she’s wearing a facemask and a set of earplugs, eyes quickly flickering up to acknowledge you as you enter the room.

you can’t help but hope that this is your chance to break through her icy facade.

“hey! want to plan for breakfast together?” you beam, tossing your bag onto the floor in front of what sophia has decided is your bed. “i love hotel oatmeal. something about it is so gross i can’t stop craving it.”

she doesn’t bother to look up at you, slipping into her bed without another glance in your direction. “i need to sleep.”

“okay, no worries,” you blink, watching as she reaches for the light switch. “when should i wake us up?”

“i’ll be up at five.” her hand flicks the lights off, leaving you both in the dark. “good night.”

“good night,” you respond quietly, trying to feel your way around for your bed. you suck in a breath. this feels like it might be a very long few days.

—---

sophia is gone before you wake up.

you don’t hear her alarm, but you also don’t hear yours, and you’re just lucky that you can hear megan banging her fist against the wall, screaming for you stupidly and asking if you can hear her through the wall. you can vaguely hear lara yelling at her for being so annoying, but megan’s antics keep you from sleeping in too late, so you’ll thank the goofy sophomores some other time.

you don’t see sophia at breakfast, but by the time you come back to your room, she’s heading into the shower, freshly sweating in her workout clothes. you realize she’s probably already fit in a morning workout while the rest of you were barely waking up. you’re impressed, but frankly not surprised, by her work ethic.

by the time the game starts, it’s your first time in the cyclones uniform, and you feel a strange sense of nervousness wash over you in a wave. your warmups are simple enough, and sophia gathers you all in a team huddle after your coaches debrief you all.

“stay focused, stay confident, don’t let them see you sweat,” sophia states, voice cold, neutral, and self-assured. her icy disposition can be quite scary, but you can see why she’s captain— she’s intense, and something about her demeanor being so laser-focused fuels you with an equal amount of confidence.

“uh, leader, what do i do if i’m already sweating?” megan blurts anxiously. lara reaches over to smack her on the back of the head, and sophia keeps going.

“keep your hits unreadable. their back line is tough but we should be able to break through if we stack clean and aggressive. stay focused,” she emphasizes, eyes looking over at her two main hitters, dani on opposite and megan on outside. “i’ll feed whoever’s eating."

“i like that,” you grin, the metaphor tickling you for whatever stupid reason.

you almost regret it as soon as you say it, but sophia’s eyes aren’t hostile as they meet yours. you realize this may be a first.

“cyclones on three,” you blurt out, and sophia shoots you a sharp look, but doesn’t seem fully annoyed.

“one, two—” she starts, and the rest of the girls jump in for the finishing chant. by the time your team takes to the court, your body is buzzing.

time to shine.

the opposing team is no joke, and you wonder where the hell they got girls this fucking huge. they tower across the net from you, and you can’t help but swallow down anxiously. sophia walks back from the coin flip with an approving nod, and chooses to serve first. your old team always opted to pick the side of the court, but sophia takes to her serve with extreme confidence, and as you watch her two handed jump float, you realize just why she is the face of the team.

the girls on the other team blink in shock at just how high sophia leaps into the air to send her serve. when you played, setters weren’t exactly known for power, but the sharp boom that leaves sophia’s hand as it slams into the ball, shooting through the air to speed straight at the other girls makes you realize what a force this girl is. sophia laforteza, as scary and intimidating as she is, is the perfect face of the malibu state university cyclones for that exact reason— she scares the shit out of anyone who lays eyes on her.

much to your shock, the serve sinks directly into the wood. your first point, an ace serve of all things. lara and manon high five from their positions and daniela lets out a loud cheer, but sophia is focused as ever. she doesn’t so much as crack a smile as she returns to her serving position, reaching out for the ball as it gets passed to her. you look over and see the opposing team shaking their heads, clearly trying to regain their composure. another boom, and the ball is in play. your stomach flutters at the thought of sophia’s phenomenal talent, and how grateful you are to play on the same team as such a talented girl.

(maybe you don’t mind the batshit crazy attitude when she can back it up with skills like this.)

the set goes on and your team only goes up from there. you’ve forgotten how much you enjoy diving around a court like this, making quick work to get the ball back in the air each time it goes too far out of reach for the rest of the girls, hopping back up to your feet after every dive with a smile on your face. it’s part of what made you love the libero position in the first place— it was the perfect place to put all your boundless energy.

your team loses possession of the ball when megan misses her one-handed set to daniela, the opposing team using the opportunity to send the ball directly to where she should have been. you’re not fast enough to save it, but there’s no time to lose moping about it before those massive walls of women are preparing for their own serve on the other side.

the other team’s serve rockets straight into an empty gap where lara isn’t expecting, leaving it up to you to protect the back line. you focus in on where sophia is standing and dive, ensuring wherever you land, the ball hits you and soars high enough for sophia to set easily. and she does, and you witness megan and daniela stack so inanely fast, you almost can’t perceive where the ball ends up or who ends up with the kill. all that matters is that the ball slams into the ground at lightning speed, dani and megan high fiving each other excitedly, and that’s when you realize your team has insane synergy.

manon and lara with you, megan and dani eager to take on whatever sophia feeds them, and sophia, level-headed and sharp-eyed, keeping everything moving on the court.

it’s back to back, and the pace makes your blood race in your veins. the thud of the ball against your skin is a dull burn at this point, and your elbows ache from all your digs, but your adrenaline is at an all time high, especially as the first set ends and you guys are riding the high and sailing towards taking over the second set as well.

your heart thuds even more powerfully in your chest when after a particularly good save, sophia comes to tap fingers with you, her eyes lighting up even if her face is still stern.

“your serve receive is phenomenal,” she tells you breathlessly, and you can’t tell if you’re more shocked by the compliment, or by the first high five she’s given anyone all game.

“thank you,” you beam. “easy when i have such a good setter ready for me.”

sophia blinks, as if she’s surprised by her own compliment, or by yours, but you can’t read into it. “don’t get cocky.”

you smile back even brighter. “i think we’re flirting, leader.”

she shakes her head and returns to her position, but it’s the most positive interaction you two have had since you joined the team. maybe you overdid it with your joke, but sophia is unphased, and you guys end up winning the game in a blowout win over the other team, so it’s a win for the night overall in your book.

“hi,” you greet the captain, coming out of the shower after getting back to the hotel. you’re only going to get a few hours of sleep before your guys’ flight, and the routine starts all over again with practice in the morning. the grind for the msu cyclones clearly never stops.

“hey,” she greets back simply, and you’re just grateful she acknowledges you at all. she’s packing her bag, still in the uniform, clearly waiting her turn for the bathroom.

“great game!” you chirp excitedly, but you immediately regret it as she stares you over, a gaze that tells you she’s thinking, she’s studying, she’s got something prepared in her head.

but what she says next surprises you.

“you’re good. i misjudged you.” you almost can’t believe that she’s complimenting you, but it suits her— she’s not looking at you, she isn’t smiling, and she follows it up with a piece of critique. “but weak on your left side.”

“i hurt myself a few months ago, before the summer. still recovering,” you explain simply.

“oh,” is all she says in response.

she’s comfortable with the silence, obviously, but you’re not, so you blurt out the first thing you think to ask: “they’re serious, about the whole leader thing?”

“they call me that instead of captain,” sophia says after a beat. “manon was being stupid and then it just stuck with the rest of them.”

you smile, realizing she lets it happen. “it’s hilarious.”

“i’m glad you find it funny,” she deadpans.

“you don’t?” you raise a brow.

“no,” she says plainly.

you let out a laugh, shaking your head. “then you must hate what megan and lara call you.”

you see her gaze narrow, and she finally looks up to acknowledge you. “what?”

you grin, realizing you’ve caught her attention with that one. something the girl doesn’t know. you can see how it drives her crazy, and it makes sense— sophia is so in the know, so perfectly in control of everything around her, it must feel disorienting to have something occurring that she’s not aware of, much less on the team that she runs like a military commander.

“good night, leader,” you say simply, tucking into bed and letting your head hit the pillow. she says nothing and slips into the bathroom as quietly as she can manage.

you guys fly back and you’re already itching for the next practice, eager to keep improving as a team. the high of the first game’s win is addicting, and you’re not about to let that energy slip through your fingers.

at the end of practice, the coaches come and debrief you all, dismissing you for the morning. but you’ve quickly learned that the girls all wait for sophia’s approval, in case she has any final words or thoughts before you guys head to the locker rooms.

you all huddle around sophia, whose unreadable features have stopped unnerving you as badly. sure, she’s still terrifying, but a little less now that you know she’s actually capable of being something other than annoyed and pissed off.

she spins one of the balls in her hand, casually and comfortably, but her voice is cold and serious as ever.

“who came up with it?” she asks, eyes fixed on the ball in her hand. “mommy sophia?”

you hear the girls go collectively silent.

“oh fuck,” you hear lara whisper under her breath.

“who was it?” she repeats, her gaze unreadable as she simply keeps the ball spinning. “i can wait all day. i’ve got nowhere to be on a saturday morning."

you can hear a pin drop. finally, one of the culprits bravely admits to her crime.

“t’was i…” megan raises her hand sheepishly.

“hm.” sophia stares her over, and you can feel the collective terror of the team as they realize their captain is preparing to make an example out of megan.

but then sophia surprises everyone, instead of verbally berating megan or making her run laps until she throws up, she simply points to one of the scaffolds in the gym, motioning to megan for her to come up to it. “we’re having a pullup competition.”

“what the fuck?” megan asks in disbelief.

“she’s not gonna kill her in front of everyone?” manon asks in pure shock.

“maybe she’s turned a new leaf,” you offer.

“if you beat me, practice ends,” sophia explains the conditions. “i beat you, and we all run two extra miles. full extension, chest to bar, no fakies.”

“megan, i’ll fucking murder you,” daniela glares at her. it dawns upon everyone— the weight of how your practice ends rests in the mildly-incapable hands of megan skiendiel.

“no pressure,” megan mumbles under her breath as she approaches the bar.

the competition starts, and the silence erupts into a rush of screams and cheers as the two race to see who can outlast the other. it’s stupid, good-natured fun, and you know there’s a two mile run on the line, but you can’t help but love how silly the whole thing feels. you didn’t think sophia was capable of something like this, but you feel the scene quickly becoming a core memory.

“come on, you useless so-cal wasian!” manon screams, standing directly underneath megan to count her reps. “all that time lifting boxes in your little boba shop for what?! you could have been training shoulders that whole time instead!”

“i’m fucking trying,” megan sobs, her arms trembling after hitting 15. “i was at the boba shop trying to get bitches.”

“you were too useless to get a single number the whole summer you worked at that fuckass boba shop,” daniela screams laughing.

“oh my god, shut up guys,” megan groans.

“light work from supreme leader,” lara sighs, standing underneath sophia to count her reps, who leads at a steady 16 and shows no signs of slowing down. “chat, we’re cooked.”

megan is strong, but she’s growing unsteady with each increasing pull up. sophia, as expected, is barely breaking a sweat, face tensed in concentration.

you feel the back of your neck flush as you watch the way her arms move in the tank top, the way her eyebrows furrow together, the slack of her mouth and the quiet breaths she lets out with each movement. you mentally chastise yourself for the images that come to your brain and try to soothe your raging hormones by cracking a joke, clapping your hands at her.

“looking good a little too good, laforteza,” you tease her, shaking your head with a smile. “you make it look easy.”

in a true blink and you’ll miss it moment, you spot it— sophia laforteza, forever unshakable, lets her cheeks go pink.

you’re in shock at the reaction, and you half wonder if it’s just her straining to pull herself up again, but she simply drops from the bar, the girls all screaming excitedly as megan does one final pullup to surpass sophia by one. whereas sophia calmly reaches for her water bottle, megan collapses onto the ground, painting heavily.

“go shower,” she waves you all off. “get some sleep. good game, megan.”

she reaches out to tap fingers with the younger girl, who looks up at her with bright, excited eyes, clearly in shock to have beat the captain.

megan gets to her feet and pumps a victorious fist in the air. “i’d like to thank my mom, and then god, and then lebron james, in that order.”

“what does lebron have to do with this?” daniela questions.

“dude, what doesn’t he have to do with this?” megan answers too easily, and you simply shake your head laughing as you see them walk off.

you reach for your gym bag to follow them, and spot sophia watching you. she turns away as soon as she’s caught, her eyes avoiding yours. you smile to yourself and chase after your friends.

———

the next day, you’re off on your own in the dining hall getting something for dinner. you’re prepared to scroll tik tok as you scan around for an empty table to sit alone at, but something catches your attention. the perfect cascade of long, dark hair waterfalling down the shoulders of a familiar figure. she’s eating alone, a book in hand, and without thinking, you run over to join her.

“did you let megan win that pullup competition?” you blurt quickly, setting your tray down in front of her.

sophia remains silent. she doesn’t look up from her book to acknowledge you, but she simply raises her brows, as if to greet you. it’s not much, but you’ll take it.

“i watched this documentary today in my anthropology class,” you tell her, unphased by her silence. “where the adult lions pretend to cry out and lose their fights when the cubs are learning how to play. so the cubs build confidence.”

she shrugs as if she doesn’t know what you’re talking about. “i’m just here to keep the team in one piece.”

“i’ve never met someone so passionate about this sport,” you breathe, admiring her pretty face since she’s not even bothered to look at you. you pick boredly at your dinner, much more interested in getting something, anything out of this mystery of a girl. “how’d you start?”

she pauses, her eyes flicking to your hand briefly, before she focuses back on her book. it’s a long bout of silence, but you hold your own, staring at her. as if she finally realizes that you’re not letting up, her voice softens. she finally gives you something.

“i played beach volleyball, as a kid,” she says slowly, hesitantly. “on the actual beach, in the philippines.”

“really?” your eyes light up at the piece of information. like a piece of a puzzle, giving you a chance to see the bigger picture that is sophia laforteza.

“i grew up there. didn’t have a ton. volleyball opened up every door i’ve ever had,” she goes on, but you can tell she’s picking her words carefully.

“you’re pretty far from home,” you acknowledge, tilting your head. “do you miss it?”

sophia says nothing. in the silence, you get an idea.

“c’mon,” you reach for her wrist, grabbing your phone to call up a few of your new favorite friends. “let’s go get lara and megan. two v two.”

“i have homework,” she pushes back instantly, looking down at your grip on her arm.

“homework will be there,” you reassure her with a smile. “come on, leader.”

to your shock, she relents. her eyes are hesitant and untrusting, but she follows behind you without a further complaint.

you all pile into lara’s car, and you’re on the beach within the hour. you haven’t played beach volleyball in a while, but you get the hang readily and when your partner is as good as sophia, there isn’t much of a learning curve. she doesn’t resist, getting into the game quickly and easily as you all enjoy the fall-time breeze and the beautiful golden hues of the setting sun against the ocean.

sophia spikes another ball straight into a gap where megan should have covered. the two girls groan as you’re up by another point against them.

“okay, my game is off. i have sand where sand isn’t supposed to be,” megan whines.

“meg, you are such a loser, lock in i am begging you,” lara gasps in exasperation. “there’s girls watching.”

sophia peeks over her shoulder and spots a small group of girls, your guys’ age, sitting on their towels admiring you guys as the game goes on. she arches her brows at you, in concern, but you wave her off, knowing it’s all in good fun.

“shirts vs. skins?” you suggest playfully, motioning over to megan and lara.

“see that, meg? that’s how you pull,” lara nods in approval. “see how she’s setting us up for success?”

megan quickly pulls her shirt up off of her head, and lara follows suit to do the same. the two play in their sports bras. sophia eyes you questioningly, but you reassure her once again with a smile that you know what you’re doing.

“do you guys want to play?” you offer, motioning to the girls watching from off-sides.

“we’re good watching,” they wave back appreciatively. “none of us are very good, anyways.”

“lara’s a really good teacher,” you encourage them, “and megan’s—”

“i love women,” megan blurts.

“oh lord…” sophia brings a hand to her face.

megan blinks a few times before trying again, her big puppy dog eyes wide and round.

“uh, i mean, i love women’s sports and i love getting people into women’s sports. do you guys like sports? we do, of course we do ‘cause we’re players for the university. not like, players players, as in like we pull a ton, i mean some of us do but some of us don’t, i meant like we play volleyball—”

“it’s painful to watch,” you whisper to sophia. she laughs and nods in agreement. the sound of her laughter makes your entire chest rumble with warmth.

“i think we should put her out of her misery and go home soon,” she mumbles back to you.

“at least give lara a chance,” you grin.

and pull through, lara does! the afternoon ends with the girls joining lara’s team, leaving you all in a 2 v 6, but even with the extra man power, you and sophia are truly no match. granted, none of the strangers play volleyball, and lara is too busy flirting while megan stammers her way through a half response, but sophia, true to herself, doesn’t take the game any less seriously.

lara drops you guys off one by one near your dorm buildings, and you and sophia realize you’re just a few buildings apart. you wave her off and head in your own direction, but you’re stopped by a movement that nearly shocks you.

sophia laforteza, ice queen, grabs you by the wrist.

“thank you,” she tells you softly. “the beach was… it was nice.”

“of course,” you smile back. “i can’t imagine being a whole world away from my family. you must get homesick pretty easily.”

her mouth tightens. “i have a hard time unwinding.”

“i can tell,” you laugh. “you deserve to smile too.”

“i forget that part, sometimes,” she breathes, offering you a quiet laugh in response. “i had fun watching megan fail at flirting.”

“she’s so, so clueless,” you shake your head.

sophia pauses for a second, contemplating. you can’t help but admire how deep those gorgeous brown eyes are, how easily you lose yourself in them.

“sorry if i’ve been short with you,” she finally says after a beat.

“i’ve been told you’re usually not this grumpy,” you say back simply.

“i wasn’t always,” she admits. “people used to think i was cheerful, actually. too cheerful.”

“i missed an iconic era, it seems,” you smile, reaching out to give her hand a squeeze. “but i think we met each other exactly when we were supposed to.”

another victory— you make sophia laforteza smile.

“maybe we did,” she says simply, before letting go of you. “good night, y/n. see you.”

—

your season goes on, and you fall into a comfortable rhythm with the girls. your season hits a few rough patches, but each time you hit the court with those girls, you’re forever more and more grateful to have convinced yourself to try out. your friendships are deeper, your days brighter, and you can’t help but feel like this is what the dream college experience is supposed to be like.

your teammates are admittedly a little more girl-crazy than you’d initially have expected, but you’re too busy trying to keep up to focus on much else. between classes, practice, traveling for games, and just general team shenanigans, you feel more than content enough. not having a love life doesn’t feel like it affects you in the slightest.

(and, should you ever get the itch, it’s always kind of fun to banter with your very hot, very serious team captain.)

you know nothing is going to come of it, and it’s absolutely harmless, but something about the way you and sophia go back and forth sends butterflies through your stomach. you know it’s all in good fun, and it isn’t hurting anyone, so what’s the harm in laying it on a little thick for the girl you know isn’t taking it personally?

plus, sophia’s been warming up to you, much to your surprise. sure, she’s still mostly quiet around you when you join her in the dining hall or sit next to her in class, but at the very least, she’s not glaring at you. she’s not mean, just focused, and the fact that she’s not icing you out is a huge win. you wonder what she used to be like, before she was this serious, and you get small glimpses especially when she’s on the court and playing like she was built for this and this alone. you see her defenses fall whenever that whistle blows, the way her eyes light up as soon as the ball leaves someone’s hand, the way she eagerly watches to see who scores.

and you love, love, love the attention she gives you for being a good fucking volleyball player.

“you’re amazing,” sophia had beamed under her breath at your last game, in awe at your sprinting dive to save what had nearly been a match-point, saved only by your quick feet.

“knock it off with the rizz while i’m playing, you’re distracting me,” you tease her, grinning widely, but you can’t deny the warmth it brings to your cheeks.

she shakes her head, but she’s smiling, watching you in admiration, and if you could feel any more vulnerable, it’d be under the beautiful gaze of a smiling sophia. she’s so radiant like this in front of you, burning almost as bright as the sun. you wonder what possibly could have happened to burn her out like this, to dim her light, and your heart aches at the thought.

your team wins your game, and instead of everyone scattering to try and get some rest, they all seem eager to shower and get dressed up for something. you follow dani’s directions to wait for a ride outside of the student center after you’ve gotten ready, and as much as you’d like to be curled up in bed and massaging your sore muscles, the enthusiasm from the girls is enough to get you going.

“ride with me and lar!” megan pleads, motioning for you to hop in the car as soon as they spot you exiting your dorm.

“where to?”

“it’s a surprise,” lara grins. you guys chat absentmindedly as she drives you guys up through the city, and before you realize it, you’re parking in front of a giant building plastered in neon signs.

“what’s this?” you ask, spotting other girls from the team arriving at the same time as you all.

“team karaoke,” lara fills you in excitedly. “oh, nobody told you? we do it to celebrate the halfway-point of the season.”

you grin bigger than you thought was possible. god, you love this team.

they lead you to the private karaoke team and introduce you to yoonchae, coach’s daughter who’s about to graduate high school and will be soon joining your team next year. there’s no drinking, mostly due to the underaged attendees, but also considering how insane half of the team is, there’s little more you guys need to get started than someone playing “thinking of you” by katy perry before you’re all screaming along at the top of your lungs.

you almost don’t notice when sophia slips into the private room, her hair softly falling over her shoulders. it’s your first time seeing her outside of her gym or campus clothes, and even though she’s still casual, you can’t help but admire how stunning she looks in the pretty black top and jeans she’s in. plus the silver-framed glasses you never get to see her wear, and you realize you’re going to have a very hard time not staring tonight.

“sing a little ditty for us, leader,” megan begs, hooking an arm around her neck and shoving the microphone in her face.

“filipino throat chakra!” lara hollers at the top of her lungs.

“so-phi-a,” manon chants. “so-phi-a.”

the girls all join in in the rambunctious cheer, and sophia simply presses a loving kiss to the top of megan’s head and waves them off. she sits down in between daniela and megan, but keeps one hand on the microphone. sophia may be a lot of things, but the one thing you’ll give her is that you can see how clearly she loves every single girl on that team, some ways more warm than others, but love nonetheless.

“queue lala lost you,” lara tells daniela, who’s been helping yoonchae queue up the songs as the girls all take their turns.

“you could hear sophia blasting this shit through the walls of the dorms all summer training camp,” megan laughs, pushing the microphone to her face. “i know you’ve got it in you, leader!”

sophia hasn’t said a single word since she’s walked into the room, but the moment she locks eyes with you, blatantly staring at her, her eyes soften.

“get off of me, meg,” she laughs, shoving the girl away. “i need a little space to hit these runs.”

“that’s our leader!” manon screams, leaping out of her seat to cheer the girl on as the song starts. between all of your cheers, you’re all almost louder than the speakers, but sophia’s voice rings out loud and clear as soon as the music hits.

she doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t seem nervous, doesn’t even so much as clear her throat before simply starting the song. that’s what you’re realizing is the way sophia operates— confident, certain, straightforward, not one to sugarcoat or do anything extra.

and it doesn’t hurt that her voice is absolutely gorgeous. you find it extremely hard to understand how people don’t just fall in love at the mere sight of her, much less the sound of her angelic siren’s call. she’s so focused, so precise, so impressive in everything she does, so capable.

(not that you’re in love with her or anything, definitely not the case.)

she’s not smiling until the end of the song, where she takes a small bow after the final note and lets megan scream in her ear about how beautiful the whole experience was.

“encore!” manon goads her on.

“i’m thirsty,” sophia shakes her head, reaching for her water. “it’s dani’s turn.”

“oh say less,” daniela chirps happily, pointing at yoonchae. “yoonchip, queue gasolina by daddy yankee.”

“no twerking on the table, megan,” sophia warns knowingly.

“you are literally no fun,” megan throws her head back.

“you broke their table last time,” sophia reminds her, laughing. “we had to put coach’s credit card down for them to not ban us from ever coming back.”

“that was not my fault,” megan pouts.

“i’m going to go get some air,” the captain stretches her arms over her head, taking her water with her as she heads towards the door. “yoonchae’s in charge.”

“what the hell?” manon protests.

“as i should,” yoonchae nods.

“sweaty, leader?” you joke, realizing the girl had worked up the slightest glint of a shimmer on her skin from the song in this cramped room.

“oh, like a pig,” sophia teases back.

“lechon queen,” manon laughs.

“oh fuck, this is like the perfect opportunity for a—”

“no spit roast jokes,” sophia holds a warning finger up.

“you’re no fun!” dani rolls her eyes.

sophia’s eyes are shining with something that makes you think for as much as she pretends to be annoyed with these girls, they keep her entertained. she reaches for the door and excuses herself. “i’ll be back.”

dani’s halfway through her second song when you realize sophia still hasn’t come back. you slip out the door and seek her out, finding her outside the front door, leaning against the wall, admiring the malibu sunset. you approach her quietly, as to not scare her, and lean on the wall next to her.

“who hurt you?” you laugh. “that song was haunting.”

sophia simply smiles knowingly.

“how much time do you have?” she says after a second, much to your surprise, even if she is joking.

“all of it, for you,” you tell her instantly, smiling back at her.

“you’re doing too much,” sophia shakes her head.

“i’m gonna be so transparent,” you tell her, raising your hands in the air like you’ve been caught. “i get such a rush when i make you smile. it’s like crack to me.”

“that’s sweet,” sophia laughs, her eyes avoiding yours as she stares down at something invisible on the ground. “i can promise you all that is not worth it.”

“for you?” you question. “no, i think you’re super worth it.”

sophia clicks her tongue, continuing to avoid your gaze. you can hear something soften in her voice— still playful, still firm, but something seeking more. “you don’t even know me.”

“not a ton, sure.” you lean the tiniest bit closer, your shoulders brushing together as you lean into her. “but i like what i know so far.”

“you’re weird,” she pushes you off, but her eyes are warm. she doesn’t entirely hate it as she’s trying to pretend.

“you’re smiling,” you call her out, poking her in the cheek. “i made leader smile!”

“y/n,” sophia says quietly, and you half wonder if she’s going to reprimand you, but then you realize that she’s leaning back against you. the two of you stand, shoulder to shoulder, the gentle warmth of her body sending a wildfire along your skin at the proximity.

“yes, leader?” you tease playfully.

the girl’s eyes finally come up to meet yours, twinkling with something indescribable.

“you can just call me sophia.”

you nod, caught up in the warmth of her incredible brown eyes, and smile back broadly in response.

“sounds good, sophia.”

—

your team flies out to the next game a week later, and as you board the plane, you notice an empty seat next to sophia. learning your lesson from your first week of school, you approach her carefully, waving a hand in her face as she takes off her headphones and arches a brow up at you.

“hey!” you greet, pointing to the middle seat next to her, where she’s positioned by the window. “can i sit here?”

“no,” she blinks flatly.

“oh,” you feel the back of your neck burn awkwardly.

but then her eyes light up again, meeting yours, and you see it. the stupid sophia laforteza smile that sends a thunderstorm through your chest.

“i’m kidding,” she reassures you, moving her bag off of the seat. ��all yours. i was saving it actually.”

“for me?” you ask in disbelief, slipping into the seat.

she tilts her head at you. “for whoever was brave enough to ask.”

you settle into the spot and the two of you coexist in a peaceful silence as the airplane takes off. but you and your stupid mouth can never keep your cool around sophia laforteza, and you find yourself rambling soon enough, disturbing what you can only assume is the peaceful silence she’s seeking.

“megan told me something sweet the other day. after our last game,” you inform her, wondering if the tidbit of information will catch her attention.

and it does. sophia’s brows knit together in curiosity as she turns to face you. “what’s that?”

“she says we make a good team.”

“we do,” sophia nods. “our positions kill when we work well together, and we work well together. i agree with her.”

“i could die happy,” you beam, pretending to fan yourself. “a compliment from the sophia laforteza.”

“hey!” she rolls her eyes. “don’t start. i’ve given you plenty.”

“i’m greedy,” you wrinkle your nose at her playfully. “sorry not sorry, i want more.”

“compliments are overrated,” sophia pushes back.

“oh, for you i bet they are,” you laugh, tossing your head back in disbelief. “what compliments could you possibly need? you’re brilliant, you’re confident, you’re super talented, and you’re insanely pretty. you’re perfect. people literally use ‘sophia laforteza’ as a synonym for perfection.”

“you’re doing too much, again,” sophia shakes her head, her eyes now avoiding yours.

“and you sing like a fucking angel,” you add. “and you smell amazing all the time.”

“not true,” sophia wrinkles her nose.

you’re about to look over and keep rambling, but in that moment you see it in her eyes. something about the way you’re talking to her makes her uncomfortable.

“and you’re actually so fucking nice,” you add, your voice softening, curious as to why the compliments are making her recoil like this. “like the nicest ever. just protective of what you care about.”

“that’s sweet,” she mumbles.

“i mean it. all of it, soph,” you press, reaching over to take her hand in yours. it’s a brave, probably stupid move, but as soon as your fingers touch, she looks up at you with those soft beautiful eyes.

“i’m sorry if i was tough on you, when you first joined,” she says quietly, her eyes digging into yours as if to emphasize her regret. “i couldn’t go easy on you. i have a lot riding on this team.”

“i forgive you,” you reassure her, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “have to keep up the whole tough team captain thing.”

“thanks,” she smiles softly.

“can i tell you something?” you whisper, leaning in as the plane cabin lights turn off, leaving you guys in the quiet glow of the airplane.

she arches her brows, beckoning for you to go on.

you smile. “i like knowing you’re a softie.”

something in her face changes, and you can see it. the warmth.

you rest your head on her shoulder, and she lets you, her gentle breaths keeping you comfortable the rest of the flight.

—

you and sophia become inseparable.

the next away game, you’re brave enough to invite her to come watch tik toks with you, and she’s bold enough to wriggle her way under the blankets, and before you realize it, the two of you are in your bed, cuddled up, staring at your tiny screen.

you try not to overthink it. your semester is going perfectly, you couldn’t ask for better friends, and the more time you spend with sophia, the more grateful you are to just know the girl. she’s incredible— so smart, so talented, and so, so thoughtful. someone like her shouldn’t exist, shouldn’t be this perfect, shouldn’t be this close to you giggling at something stupid on your phone.

you don’t get more time to overthink. megan is bursting through your hotel room door, barging in as she seeks out a spare set of kneepads considering she left her lucky ones back home.

“it smells like fritos in here,” she says plainly, snatching your extra pair out of your bag.

“you have to be the weirdest person i know,” sophia groans, throwing her head back against the pillow.

“my mom says frito smell comes from a yeast overgrowth,” the girl goes on, clearly not realizing she’s intruding. “y’all baking bread?”

“i don’t even think she realizes she’s talking sometimes,” you laugh, nudging sophia in the shoulder. “the noises just come right out of her.”

she grins back at you and checks the uber eats notification on her phone. “stay there. i’m gonna go pick up our food.”

she slips out of the door and megan simply watches, before looking back over at you.

“you guys look close,” the girl arches her brows knowingly.

“she’s been opening up,” you inform her.

“oh i bet she has,” megan nods, pursing her lips into an ‘o.”

“megan, ew,” you shake your head, throwing a pillow at the girl who has quickly become one of your best friends.

“i dunno dude, you’re mighty comfy. looks sus for two people just to be friends and be that all up on each other.”

“whatever,” you roll your eyes. you watch as the girl lets herself out.

sophia comes back and lands herself right back in your lap. something about how she fits so comfortably besides you feels too easy. megan’s words ring through your head, and you shake them off.

sophia falls asleep in your bed, and you don’t mind. you don’t mind one bit.

—

the semester goes on, and you and sophia only grow closer. wherever she goes, you’re sure to follow, and people become painfully aware of your newfound friendship.

“y/n,” sophia beams, waving you over as the girls all sit together for breakfast out on the grass of the quad. “come sit.”

you do as you’re told, looking in surprise as the girl hands you a drink. you’re usually one to skip breakfast in favor of getting more sleep, so the fact that sophia, a notorious early riser, already has a drink for you makes your stomach flip.

“i got you a matcha,” she beams proudly, unwrapping the straw for you and placing it in your hand.

“how did you know i liked the sesame one?” you question.

“you ordered it last time we went,” she responds simply.

“the whole team went,” you say in disbelief. “you noticed my order?”

“of course,” she says, too confidently, as if it’s obvious.

“such a gentlewoman,” you smile, pressing your head into her shoulder appreciatively.

megan, who has been eyeing the both of you since your arrival, simply blinks, before blurting out the only thing on her mind:

“sophia, you are so down bad.”

“not even,” she shoves megan away, rolling her eyes.

you’re blushing, and you hope sophia doesn’t notice. but what makes this even more difficult is that you realize she probably did notice, because sophia laforteza cares about those little tiny details.

—-

as it turns out, being this close to sophia laforteza is not only super enjoyable, but super fucking confusing. you promised yourself you’d focus on school and volleyball when you moved to malibu at the beginning of the semester, but whatever you’ve got going on with sophia starts to feel like this weird third thing, past friends but not quite somewhere beyond that. it’s nameless, it’s confusing, but worst of all, you can’t imagine stopping.

she opens up little by little, letting you have tiny pieces of her as if she’s testing how trustworthy you are. she tells you little stories of her island, reminisces about singing with her grandparents, reveals that she plays piano in the common room of her dorm late at night when no-one is around when she’s stressed. her favorite subject is english even though she’s studying public health to run her own pediatric resource clinic for low-income families. she likes disney and she’s afraid of bugs.

and she sings, all the damn time, as if she’ll die if she doesn’t get a tune out. at first it’s quiet, a gentle hum or a whistle, but with the sheer amount of time you two are spending together, the more comfortable she gets with your presence, the more she lets it out. by the time your season is ending, she’s around you and beaming like the clouds came out from in front of the sun, warm, bright, and so melodic. she sings at the top of her lungs whenever you two are alone, studying, watching a stupid movie, at the gym together getting in a stupid extra practice.

you feel kind of pathetic, but you’d do anything to spend more time with her, more time basking in her light, in her beautiful warmth. whether it’s joining on her on her morning runs, or hanging out at your dorm to watch game recaps, she’s reaching out to you, and you’re not about to let her slip through your fingers. each time she invites you to anything you say yes, and any time you think she may even remotely like something, you invite her. your days are starting to revolve around spending time with sophia laforteza, like you can’t get enough of her, but why would anyone want to be apart from her? she’s perfect, and if she’s picked you to be her new best friend, you’ll consider it the biggest win in the world.

the sleepovers didn’t start until your season starts coming to an end. you’re about to enter your first playoff game, and sophia invites herself over as you guys prepare for your flight the next day. you lose track of time packing, chatting mindlessly, sharing stories and making sure you’re both in the right headspace before the game, but quite frankly, any ounce of access to sophia that you get will have you exactly as focused as you need to be.

you’re not sure how you end up there, but you’re admittedly a little too close for comfort, curled up together in your bed. she’s in a cozy hoodie and shorts, those stupid glasses that look way too good on her perched on the tip of her nose as she shows you another stupid brainrot tik tok that made her laugh that day. somehow, you’ve ended up with your head on her shoulder, a common occurrence for the two of you lately, but the way you’re cuddled into her arm, feeling the warmth of her body against yours, close enough to see the shimmer of the lipgloss in the light of the phone screen, is a little too close for you to ignore.

you suck in a deep breath. you figure it’s now or never, and even if you get nothing out of it, you’ll feel better knowing you’ve at least made the effort to get some clarity.

“sophia,” you say gently.

“hm?” her head tilts in your direction, but she doesn’t look away from the phone screen.

your chest tightens, but it’s too late now. “what are we doing?”

“what do you mean?” her face stays neutral, forever the queen of composure.

“i mean i don’t even know what to call you,” you breathe.

“my name, duh,” she wrinkles her nose at you, and you shove her back gently. of course she’d choose now of all times to be a smart ass.

you let the silence rest for a few moments longer, but the feeling gnaws at you. you have to be honest, with her, but first and foremost, with yourself.

“sometimes it feels like we’re dating,” you finally admit.

you know sophia at this point to see her micro-expressions: the curl of her lip, a small shift, or in this case, the twitch of her brow. she doesn’t look at you— a habit you’ve realized that she takes up when she’s thinking.

“oh,” is all she says.

“yeah,” you breathe back awkwardly.

“we’re not,” she tells you.

you squint at her. “i know that.”

she pauses again. you wait her out. you’ve gotten good at it— realizing her silence isn’t hostile, it’s just contemplation. sophia, perfect sophia, takes a second to pick the exact words she wants to say in that exact moment. it’s part of what you’ve come to adore so much about her, how purposeful she is, her attention to detail.

“y/n…” she muses quietly, her lips parting to show her teeth as she sucks in a quiet, thinking breath. “i don’t know how to ask this.”

“sophia laforteza, tongue tied? our eloquent leader?” you tease her, poking her in the cheek. maybe it’s a poor time to be messing with her, but this is your bad habit, making jokes at the worst possible times to try and diffuse the tension. “what’s today, the end of the world?”

but she doesn’t laugh. she doesn’t even smile.

she finally turns her head, she finally looks at you. her voice low and serious, as it always is.

“y/n, i want to kiss you.”

“oh.” you blink. “oh.”

“you can tell me it’s a bad idea,” she tells you slowly, forever the gentlewoman, but the way her eyes flutter down to focus on your lips makes you absolutely dizzy, “or that you don’t want to.”

“i um,” you feel your stomach in knots, jumping at the sight of how she stares you down. “neither of those are true.”

she pauses, her tongue darting out to wet her bottom lip. the movement leaves her lip even shinier, which you didn’t think was even possible, but it is and it makes you absolutely sick at how easily the movement unnerves you. her voice drops, just slightly, but it’s enough for you to notice the rasp in her tone.

“y/n, do you want to kiss me?”

sophia is so painfully confident, so direct and straightforward, it makes your teeth hurt with how attracted you are to her.

you nod, dumbstruck and incapable of forming any more words, and her hand drops the phone onto her stomach. she turns to reach for you, her hand cupping you by the cheek. the feeling of her grasp on your face, the closeness of her body, her breath on your nose is nearly too much for you.

“i’m going to kiss you now,” she tells you gently, moving closer and closer with each passing second, her eyes never leaving your lips. “don’t move.”

you do as you’re told, and sophia laforteza is a woman of her word. she’s slow, painfully gentle as she bridges the distance between you both, and you lose yourself in the perfect smell of her hoodie, the softness of her perfect mouth, the perfect sweetness on her tongue as it brushes softly against your bottom lip. the only word you could ever use to describe sophia, the only word that even starts to do her justice— she is absolute perfection.

“you’re not real,” you breathe, staring at her in disbelief. you’re an idiot for breaking the kiss, sure, but if you didn’t pull away to take a breath, you might’ve actually passed out. your head is so, so dizzy— in no reality, when you had first met this girl, did you ever picture she’d let you get to know her, to be this close to her, to kiss you.

“very real,” she pushes back, reaching for you once more. she turns to lean on top of you, resting her elbows on either side of your torso, hovering over you. she reaches up to brush some of your hair out of your face, her fingertips against your skin feeling like electricity. her eyes are so dark, so intense, so focused. “gonna kiss you again. don’t move.”

you wrap your arms around her neck and nod eagerly. she won’t have to tell you twice.

—-

making out with sophia laforteza for 3 hours the week of your first college playoff game is definitely not something you could have predicted on your sophomore year bingo card, but you’re not about to get greedy.

she falls asleep cuddled up next to you after you guys mutually agree to wait until after playoffs to get distracted by anything else, and you have half a mind to tell her that you’re already extremely distracted when she’s this close to you, but you’re able to keep those thoughts to yourself.

unfortunately, sophia is a creature of routine no matter how badly you beg her to sleep in and keep cuddling you, and gets out of your bed as gently as she can manage to go on her morning run. you’re not exactly thrilled, but she presses a gentle kiss to your temple as she slips out of your room and promises that you’ll talk more when she gets back. the combination of the two is a true win in your head, so you make your way to breakfast with a few of the girls and hope nobody asks why you can’t stop smiling even at 7 in the morning.

(of course, it would be just your luck that it’s megan who clocks you immediately— somehow clueless to literally everything except for whatever is between you and the team captain.)

“y/n, why do you keep acting like nothing’s going on?” she blurts, eyeing you suspiciously. you’ve looked down at your phone a million times that morning, eager to see if sophia has any thoughts about the development between you two, and of course, your teammate didn’t let it go unnoticed. “you’re clearly into her.”

you take a cue from sophia’s playbook and stay silent, reaching for your breakfast oatmeal in the hopes they’ll drop it. you know yourself, prone to oversharing, and you’re not sure that sophia would want something between the two of you to leave between the two of you. manon and daniela eye each other from across the table, lara giggles to herself, and megan doesn’t let up.

“are you guys dating?” she asks bluntly, narrowing her eyes at you.

“um…” you choke on your oatmeal, but try to play it off. “i don’t know how to answer that.”

“oh holy shit,” manon beams, her eyes lighting up. “it’s not a no! you always deny it!”

“it’s true,” lara grins. “this is your first non-answer.”

you feel your cheeks burn, but before you can hide your face, you can tell dani has already seen you blushing. the three of them burst into coos, clearly thrilled to hear things have moved along.

“dude, it’s so sweet,” dani chirps excitedly.

megan nods, and you can tell she’s about to start rambling, but it’s megan, and she means well, so you let her.

“no, dude, you have no idea how good this is for us. she’s like, finally smiling again! our sophia! angry, serious sophia. she even laughed at one of my jokes last practice. my joke. do you know how long it’s been since she’s laughed with me, bro? all it took was y/n to warm her back up. it’s like the ice age is melting or something. i haven’t seen her this happy since marquise—”

you see all 3 of the girls seize up at the exact same time at the mention of this name. a name you have never, ever heard before, and yet got each of these girls to freeze with the exact same reaction. your stomach drops.

“megan—“ manon says harshly, a tone she never uses, which only tells you this is extremely not good. whatever megan has just touched on was clearly not for your ears to hear.

“who’s marquise?” you try to ask, but the three ignore you, locked onto each other.

“megan skiendiel,” daniela says it like a punishment, and megan only sinks further into her seat, her eyes wide like a puppy that’s just been scolded for chewing something up that she wasn’t meant to. you guys are the only ones at the dining hall that early in the morning, but even then, you feel like the whole world around you is spinning, in the worst way possible.

“guys. freaking out here,” you remind them, still left in limbo with nothing more than a name and 0 context. “who the hell is marquise?”

then, as if on cue, a voice cuts in from behind you. a familiar, cold, firm voice. too perfect.

your stomach sinks. you can feel it about to crumble around you.

sophia laforteza, too perfect, too dreamy, too good to be true.

“marquise is my ex.” her voice is neutral, factual. you can’t bring yourself to look at her, but you can see her figure in the corner of your eye. she’s got her arms crossed over her chest, so composed, so eternally the picture of calm and control. “megan wasn’t supposed to mention that.”

you feel your stomach twist into a knot. “oh.”

“saw you guys through the window,” she explains simply, motioning out to the side of the table. you can see your table directly from the window facing the running trail. “thought i’d join you guys for breakfast.”

the tension is palpable. megan is the first to speak up, but her voice is quavering and weak, like she knows the gravity of what she’s done. “soph, i’m sorry…”

sophia moves into your view and presses her lips into a fine line. “they’re freaking out because we’re on a break. marquise gets back to the US in two months.”

“oh,” you say simply, dropping your gaze to the table. “oh wow.”

“we’re gonna go,” lara says, clearly sensing the danger in lingering much longer. she scoops dani in one arm and grabs megan by the hoodie, yanking her along roughly.

“y/n, i’m really sorry,” the youngest girl tells you, her voice shaky, and a part of you feels the tiniest bit better that her guilt comes not just from spilling sophia’s secret, but from not telling you something sooner. it softens the blow somehow.

“she played libero,” sophia tells you once the girls walk away. she sits down across from you in the booth. you can tell she’s treading carefully, wanting to be close but not wanting to overdo it, and you appreciate that she has the common sense to give you space and follow your cues. “she’s the one that got injured last year.”

your throat goes dry at the realization.

“i replaced her,” you finally say out loud. it stings even worse hearing it than it does thinking it.

“i wanted to tell you.” her voice is still even, still composed, but you can hear the quiet rasp of something more, like she’s straining herself. she’s speaking slowly, picking her words carefully as she does. “but i didn’t want to lose you.”

“you knew it was wrong,” you call her out shakily.

“i didn’t want you drawing your own conclusions,” she tells you. “after we kissed, i knew i had to say something. i wanted to. i was going to.”

“i don’t mind being a girl with a one-sided crush. hell, i don’t even mind if we don’t work out on our own.” your voice is shaky as you look down at your hands, trying to even out your breathing to avoid crying, but fuck, this hurts. “but i do mind being a rebound if you’re not over someone.”

“i am,” she presses quickly, and it’s the first time you’ve ever heard her rush her words, as if she’s trying to speak over you. it doesn’t irritate you, if anything, you’re grateful to hear that she’s got some humanity left in her, but it doesn’t help soothe you. she tries again, letting out a breath to steady herself. “we haven’t talked literally at all since she left. i’m going to tell her that things are completely over between us. i can promise that i am 100% over her.”

you won’t look up at her, but you can see her hands on the table. she’s picking at her fingernail, and the movement surprises you. sophia never fidgets, never moves nervously, never even cracks a sweat. but here she is, picking at her nail, and it makes your heart ache. you want to comfort her, but you feel sick even thinking about how much you feel for her.

“that’s the problem with being dishonest, sophia. and i know you weren’t even dishonest, you just didn’t tell me the whole truth, but it’s still a problem,” you admit, swallowing down a lump in your throat. “‘cause now, i don’t know if i believe you. i don’t know if i can trust that you’re telling me the truth.”

she says nothing, and that seals your fate. you feel the first few hot tears drop from your eyes as you shield your face and get out of the dining hall as fast as physically possible, rushing to your dorm to try and compose yourself without sobbing in public like a mess.

sophia doesn’t follow after you. you feel stupid for ever thinking she would.

—-

megan comes over a few hours later after you miss practice, too embarrassed to face sophia after everything collapsing around you.

the younger girl sits on the edge of your bed, staring at one of her textbooks in confusion, but you know she’s only faking studying until you say something. you can tell she wants to apologize, she wants to say something, but if you can appreciate anything, it’s that megan is showing some restraint and stopping herself from crashing out in the middle of your dorm room.

you play mindlessly with your laptop as a specific email catches your attention. you had read it weeks ago, but archived it. the cyclones were your whole life at this point. this team had filled your heart with such a sense of belonging and wholeness, you didn’t even consider the idea that other schools could be eyeing you. you didn’t want any of them, you wanted sophia—

you clamp your eyes shut instantly as you realize your mistake, grimacing. you wanted malibu. you wanted to be a cyclone.

your stomach aches, thinking about the team captain. maybe this mindset of unconditional devotion was the thing truly holding you back.

so you go back to the email, and blurt it out to megan.

“UCLA is interested in me,” you tell her. “after this season.”

she looks up at you instantly, her brows tensing, but you see her instantly try to relax her face and be supportive. “oh whaaaaat? no way. that’s sick.”

you stare at your screen, feeling the ache in your chest and wishing you could just will it away in an instant.

“and since i’m still technically a walk-on, and not scholarshipped yet, i could transfer.”

“you’d leave?” megan asks softly, her eyes falling. “but we just got you, y/n. we’re about to win a championship together. you’d really leave?”

you hear the crack in her voice, but you can’t bear to look up at her. the idea sounds appealing, just a few more months and transfer over to a new school once the semester ends. move, start over, make new friends. you stop yourself from thinking about her again, pushing all thoughts of sunshine and lipgloss and singing out of your mind.

you blink a few times more, trying not to be swayed by just how fucking sad megan’s little sniffles are from her corner of your room.

“what if i don’t have anything keeping me here?” you ask, but you’re not quite sure the question is for megan any more.

—-

megan goes back to her own dorm a little bit later, after the silence gets to be too much, and you spend the rest of the evening staring up at the ceiling. you don’t have practice on sundays, so you’ll finally get a chance to sleep in, and you start to look up the forms you might need for a transfer if you opt to follow through with this. three schools in less than two years might not look great, but if it’s what’s right for you, you’ll figure out a way to explain it on a transcript.

you’re asleep with your laptop on your chest when a quiet knock on your dorm room door wakes you. you check your phone for any messages, and there’s no recent ones as you realize it’s nearly 1 am. you feel your eyelids getting heavy once more, but that knock comes back, gentle, evenly spaced, quick.

a perfect knock on the door, straight out of the movies. your stomach sinks. how fucking annoying to be so perfect, it’s recognizable, even in a knock.

you want to ask her to go away, and considering you just ditched practice for the first time all season just to avoid her, you figured she’d understand. but there’s another knock, more insistent this time, and you suck in a deep breath to try and prepare yourself for what comes next as you get out of bed and finally give in, swinging the door open.

perfect sophia laforteza has messy hair.

it’s not insane, of course even her messiness is so coordinated, but it’s the first time you’ve ever seen her hair not silky smooth falling in waves over her shoulders. it’s a little frizzy, the tiniest bit unruly, thick and admittedly even a little poofy. she has some baby hairs sticking out of her headband, her bangs pulled back. your heart thuds at the sight— sophia, in her hoodie and her shorts, and her super cute, imperfect hair that’s somehow still perfect to you, as much as you wish it wasn’t

“megan called me crying,” she says simply, her eyes dark and seeking as they look up into yours, her hands tucked into her pockets as she stands in front of your door in the middle of the hallway, “saying you wanted to leave.”

you blink at her, and honestly, you’re not quite sure what to say next.

her lips press into a tight line at your lack of response.

“i’m sorry if that’s because of me,” she breathes, quieter now.

“i’ll text megan in the morning to apologize for stressing her out. i forget how sensitive she is,” you force a smile, your forever bad habit of trying to smooth things over with anyone and everyone. you drop your eyes, unable to keep looking at her any longer without the ache in your chest roaring back to life. “i need to go to bed, good night.”

you move to close the door, but to your surprise, the door doesn’t budge.

sophia has her foot against the base, her hand around your wrist, anchoring you there.

it reminds you of that day, on the beach, your first glimpse into something more in sophia besides her cold stares and her unobtainable standards of perfection. the first time she ever reached out to grab you, you saw it— sophia laforteza, as perfect as she is, is also human, just like you.

her voice surprises you.

“please don’t go.” it’s soft, and she’s avoiding your eyes again, but you hear the rasp, the crack in her voice as she pleads with you. “please hear me out.”

you can feel the burn in your chest at how small she looks, how unfamiliar this version of her is to you. “sophia…”

“i can’t um...” she clamps her eyes shut, and it physically pains you to see just how badly she’s struggling to get the words out. how badly she wants to be vulnerable with you, how hard it is for her. “i just got used to doing it alone. for a really long time. even when my ex was there, i just never could see myself as someone...”

she trails off, and you see it again in her face. that day on the airplane, where you had complimented her, how uncomfortable it seemed to make her to hear so many nice things said about her. you feel your heart shatter for her in that very moment. she doesn’t believe it.

“and then you came in, and i tried to push you away, but you insisted on being kind to me even when i wasn’t worth being kind to, and now i have feelings for you.” she bites down on her bottom lip, the words spilling out almost rushed, as if she’s trying to get them all out at once. “so here i am, pouring my heart out, hoping you’ll stay.”

you blink back, your heart racing. “you have feelings for me?”

“i don’t need you to say it back,” she shakes her head, her brows furrowing. “i just need you to know how pissed i’ll be if you leave after i started to like you. even if it’s just as friends.”

“i didn’t know you’d care if i was gone,” you laugh, feeling your eyes water. it may be a little later than you would have wanted, but she’s trying, and you can see just how hard it is for her.

“you’re ridiculous,” she wrinkles her nose, as if it’s obvious. “i get leaving me might be easy—”

you stop her there, feeling yourself get angry at the way she talks about herself. “no. stop that. no way.”

she presses, insisting. “no, you don’t have to lie. i know how i get. i can be difficult, and a perfectionist—“

“sophia, you’re an incredible captain,” you cut her off, your voice full of conviction. “and a warm, thoughtful friend. people admire you.”

“they’re scared of me, y/n,” she breathes quietly.

“they respect you,” you insist. “you’re incredible.”

she pauses, looking at you, and you let yourself look back at her. something in her eyes change, softening, warming. like the stormclouds parting to reveal the sun.

“i didn’t believe any of that, until i met you,” she admits to you, shakily. “it was like you saw me differently. i believed it because you believed it. you treated me like i was worth it.”

“you are,” you press, before you remember something that might help convince her. “soph… the team, we made you a gift.”

she blinks back at you in shock. “what?”

you motion for her to follow you into your room, and reach under your bed to pull out a scrapbook you guys had worked on between all of you, keeping it in your room as you guys all worked on the finishing touches. the idea was to give it to her after playoffs were over, to celebrate her if you guys won and to cheer her up if you guys lost, but you figure the girls will forgive you for giving it to her a little early.

“when i first heard you were feeling homesick, we started putting it together.” you put the book in her hands and she opens it, immediately seeing all the printed photos of your team together. your days at the beaches, the practices you all bonded over, the photos of you all traveling for games, some of the random shenanigans you’d get into like karaoke. sophia turns the page and realizes that each girl on the team had written her a note about how much they appreciate her as a captain and as a friend, and paired their heartfelt notes with a photo of themselves with her.

(unfortunately, you had waited a little too long to work on your note considering you were working through a massive crush on her, but you hope she won’t mind that you’re the only person on the team who doesn’t have a page in the scrapbook.)

“this is how we see you,” you continue, watching as sophia flips through each page, reading over each and every word with unmatchable focus. “i know you have a skewed vision of yourself. you’re so, so hard on yourself. so we wanted you to have this, so you could see what the world sees. how we see you.”

“this is incredible,” sophia whispers, her eyes welling up with tears.

you’re incredible, you stop yourself from saying, letting you guys continue in silence as she reads the rest of the pages.

“megan spelled ‘gratitude’ wrong,” she laughs, wiping a tear from her cheek as she points to the mistake.

“okay, cut the girl some slack, she could barely stop crying long enough to get the words down. she was so sad thinking about how lonely you’ve been,” you laugh with her, pointing to the dried tear stains on the page. “literally sobbed all over the page and lara had to help her pull it together to finish and sign her stupid name. at this point i’m surprised there’s no snot.”

she smiles and wipes again at her cheek, clearly trying to stop herself from crying in front of you. “i’ve been a little less lonely, ever since you walked on.”

you want to reassure her that you don’t mind the tears, that you don’t mind her being human. that you adore every part of her, exactly how she is, perfect imperfections and all. you try to open your mouth, but the words get caught in your throat.

she beats you to it.

“i’m sorry if i confused you,” she sighs. “it was unfair. i’d be pissed if i was you. getting all caught up before someone had their shit together.”

“i’m not mad at you any more,” you reassure her, reaching out to gently squeeze her hand. “maybe a little hurt, maybe a lot jealous.”

she lets out another laugh, and the sound warms your bones. the idea of UCLA seems so, so silly now, as you two look at the book together. this is where you belong. playing libero with the most incredible group of girls you’ve ever known. wingmanning for lara, laughing with dani, clowning manon, trying to keep megan from a near-daily crashout.

basking in the light that beams from sophia laforteza. reminding her every day that she is the sun in human form, twice as bright and just as warm. reminding her especially on the days she has a hard time believing it.

“i understand if you just want to be friends after this,” she tells you quietly, so infuriatingly thoughtful. “i totally get it. i’d love to be your friend.”

you let out a soft breath.

“i think friends a good place to be.”

sophia smiles, and you smile back. you stop yourself from reaching for her hand. her eyes twinkle as they look back at you. you watch her like she’s the sunset against the beach, and you let it warm you.

sophia laforteza smiling is your favorite view.

#☆ﾟ coolwyous works.#☆ﾟ coolwyous - pov.#☆ﾟ pov thoughts.#sophia laforteza x reader #sophia x reader #katseye x reader #katseye sophia #sophia #sophia laforteza #katseye

905 notes · View notes

i-get-obsessed-fast · 4 months ago

Text

Family | Criminal Minds

.・゜✭・. Spencer Reid x F!Reader .・゜✭・.

Summary: under unexpected and intense circumstances, the team uncovers you and Spencer Reids biggest secrets- your relationship and the baby on the way.

A/N: sorry for the wait!! I wanted this chapter to be perfect and hopefully it is! Lmk your thots<3 xoxo

BYR(b4 u Reid): kind of suggestive, use of y/n, child abuse, mentions of blood, and hospitals. | lmk if I missed anything<3

read the first half to understand a bit more -> Oh Baby | Criminal Minds

The weekend passed quickly, uninterrupted by work, a rare occurrence, but one that gave you and Spencer the chance to just be with each other. Wrapped up in blankets, tangled together on your couch, the two of you spent most of the time talking about everything and nothing.

Spencer had been at your place since Friday night. The only time either of you left was to grab some extra clothes and a few belongings from his apartment, bringing them back so he wouldn’t have to leave again.

“I’ve been thinking.” He murmured, his voice low and thoughtful. You were nestled against him, your head rested on his chest, fingers lazily intertwined.

“You’re always thinking.” You teased

He huffed a quiet laugh “Yeah, I am.” He paused for a moment “I want us to move in together.”

That made you lift your head, searching his face “Don’t you think it’s too soon?”

Spencer didn’t hesitate “I think moving in together is probably going to be the last thing we’ve done to soon.” You thought about that for a moment “That’s true.”

His grip on your hand tightened just slightly “I just— I want to be with you, and I don’t feel comfortable leaving you here alone.” His voice was quieter now, but there was something heavy in it.

“Spencer, nothings going to happen to me.” You assured him

He exhaled, but it didn’t seem like it made a difference. He still looked at you like the thought of you two being apart even just to sleep was something he couldn’t bear.

You softened “Alright.” You murmured, “If moving in together is what you want, then I want it too.”

His head tilted down to look at you, a slow, relieved smile pulling at his lips “Yeah?”

You nodded “Yeah, but it has to be somewhere new, somewhere we choose together.”

“Of course.” He quickly agreed, pulling you closer “So when do we tell the team?” You asked, he hummed in thought considering the best timing

“I think we should wait until you're in your second trimester, but for now, we could at least tell them about us,” he says

You let out a small laugh “I’d rather just hit them with everything all at once.”

Spencer shook his head with a fond smile “Of course you would.” you shrugged “might as well get it all over with at the same time, right?”

“If that's what you want, then we’ll do it that way. I just don't think I’ll be able to hide it any longer.” He admits

“You know,” you started biting your lip as you laid your head back down on his chest “Penelope told me the team already knew we were…” you trailed off feeling awkward “We were what?”

You rolled your eyes “That we were sleeping together. She said it was obvious.” He let out a small laugh “Well I think Penelope’s crazy.”

“She is.” You admitted with a grin “But she’s probably right, we were terrible at keeping things lowkey. I honestly wouldn’t doubt they somehow found out we started dating the night we made it official. I don’t think they’ll be to surprised with that news.”

Spencer shrugged “Well if they do know, they won’t say anything until we confirm it. So at least we can all just pretend for now.”

You nodded, amused “Yeah.”

“What time is it?” Spencer asked, you sighed glancing at the clock “Time to get up.”

He groaned clearly not wanting to leave the comfort of you “Five more minutes.” You smiled shifting to look at him once again, your fingers threading through his messy hair. His eyes fluttered shut at the feeling, completely content.

You couldn’t help yourself, you leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

Morning breath don’t matter. Spencer could never be gross to you, and you knew he felt the same.

“Come on.” You coaxed “I’m starving. If we hurry, we can grab breakfast on the way in.” Spencer cracked an eye open, feigning offense “You're choosing food over staying in bed with me?”

You nodded, grinning “Right now, yes.” You kissed his cheek before smirking “Shower together? You know… to conserve water. I’m very environmentally conscious.”

Spencer huffed a laugh “Oh, So thoughtful. I suppose I’ll help your noble cause.”

You giggled as you both got up, making your way to the bathroom. . .

By the time you stepped into the bullpen, coffee in Spencers hand and a breakfast sandwich in yours, Dereks suspicious gaze was already locked on you.

“You two ride together?” he asked, brow raised. You took a casual bite out of your sandwich “Yeah, he's on the way.” Derek hummed knowingly “hmm. Alright.”

As he walked away, you turned to spencer, grinning “You think he suspects anything?”

Spencer didn't hesitate “Of course he does.”

You shrugged. “Oh well, I'm gonna talk to Penelope. Talk later?” he nodded “Be safe.”

You snorted “She’s just right there.” you tell him as you walk away towards her door

You knocked on Penelope's office door, relieved to see her already settled in “You may enter.” she dramatically called

Closing the door behind you, you barely had time to sit before she grinned “How was your weekend? You and the good doctor disappeared. The group is talking.” She wiggled her eyebrows

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling “It was good.”

Penelope gasped, leaning in “Really? How good? Spill.”

You kept it simple “We talked… and he finally asked me to be with him.” she squealed “That’s adorable! So, are you guys having this baby?”

You nodded “Yeah. He’s excited, I am too. But we’re waiting until I'm past my first trimester before telling everyone.”

Her hand flew to her chest “Oh, my heart! I feel so special knowing this.” she lowered her voice “Are you telling JJ and Emily?”

You shook your head “Just you and Spencer for now.” she nodded “Right, right.”

You sighed, feeling a wave of gratitude. “Thanks, Penelope. I'm really glad I have someone to talk to about all of this.”

She reached out, squeezing your hand “Always, sweet pea.”

You stood, ready to head out, but Penelope hesitated “Wait, one last thing. I was thinking… How are you going to keep working in the field?”

“JJ did it.”

“Yeah, but JJ doesn't do as much field work as you.”

You shrugged “I guess we’ll figure it out.”

She gave you a pointed look “I just don't want you getting hurt.” you gave her a soft smile “I know.” you assured her “Thanks, P. Talk later.”

As you stepped out David caught sight of you, smirking “Someone’s looking better than last week.”

You played it cool “Told you guys, just a stomach bug. A weekend off did the trick.”

Rossi nodded, then subtly tilted his head toward Spencer, who was at his desk “That, and some time with him, huh?”

You rolled your eyes “You guys are crazy.”

But you didn't deny it.

They’d have their confirmation soon enough.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The past two weeks had been exhausting. Squeezing in house hunting between cases, late nights, and early mornings. It felt nearly impossible to find time, but you and Spencer made it work because it wasn’t just about finding a house, it was about finding a home.

As the both of you pulled up to the Victorian house, you exhaled “Hopefully, this is the last house we ever have to look at.”

Luckily, you and Spencer finally had the chance to tour this house together. With your hectic work schedules, and to avoid drawing any more suspicion you had both been viewing homes separately.

You looked out the car window, even in the dark the house stood beautiful. It had charm, history, and character, exactly what the two of you had been searching for.

The both of you stepped out of the car, eyes scanning every inch of the home with quiet appreciation “It’s beautiful.” you murmured

A woman approached with a warm smile “Hello! Spencer Reid, and Y/N Y/L/N?”

“That’s us,” Spencer responded, the both of you stepping forward to shake her hand “Thank you for meeting us at this hour.” Spencer politely said “Our work schedule is… unpredictable.”

“I completely understand.” The realtor assured “I’m happy to accommodate. This house was built in the early 1900s, passed down through generations, but recently, the family found themselves unable to keep it.” There was a hint of sadness in her voice but she quickly brightened “Shall we go inside?”

The moment you stepped through the front door, it felt like stepping into a different time. The natural wood floors creaked under your feet, the rich paneling carried stories of the past, and the fireplace, grand and inviting, felt like it belonged in a home meant to be filled with love.

“How many bedrooms?” You asked, wandering into the living room, already picturing a life here.

“Four.” She answered “All upstairs. Perfect for a family.”

You turned to Spencer “Four seems like a lot of space.” He tilted his head, the way he always did when he was thinking “Not really.” counting on his fingers “One is ours, one is for the baby, one can be a library.” he smiled as he said that “and the last… for another baby.”

Your eyes widened “Okay, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I just found out I’m seven weeks. Let’s focus on one baby at a time.” You laughed

Spencer only shrugged, as if the idea of another child was already a certainty in his mind.

You continued exploring, making your way upstairs, and the moment you stepped into one particular room, something inside you clicked.

It wasn’t the biggest, but it had a large, beautiful window overlooking the quiet neighborhood. Soft moonlight filtered in, painting the space in a glow that made it feel warm, safe, and perfect.

“This is it.” You said, taking it all in. Spencer’s hand found yours, his fingers threading through like second nature. You looked up at him. “This would be our babies room.”

He didn’t say anything right away. Instead, he took a slow glance around, and you could see it, him envisioning the nursery, picturing you both painting the walls, him struggling with a screwdriver as he attempted to assemble the crib, you teasing him for overanalyzing the instruction manual.

He could see your child taking their first steps in the living room below, and could hear laughter throughout the entire house. He wanted it, he needed it.

“Is this the one?” He finally asked, locking his eyes on you “I love it. A lot.” You nodded

A smile tugged at his lips as he pulled you into him, embracing you in a secure hug “I love it too.” your arms wrapped around his waist as his hand came up, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear before cupping your cheek, his touch lingering.

“We should put in an offer right?”

“Absolutely.”

Determined, you both headed downstairs, ready to fight off anyone who might try to take this house from you guys.

After filling out the paperwork, the realtor smiled “I’ll call you in the next few weeks with any updates from the owners.”

“Thank you.” you said, shaking her hand “Really, thank you.” Spencer echoed, his grip firm but grateful

You didn't want to leave. You wanted to stay, to imagine furniture placements, to map out the future in your mind. But Spencer opened the car door for you, waiting patiently as you slid into the passenger seat. He quickly made his way to the driver's side, but before starting the car, he turned to you.

“I can see us here.” He said softly, his gaze lingering, you met his eyes, your heart swelling “I can too. Playing in the yard, reading a book under the tree…”

A small smile tugged at his lips as he reached for your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. It wasn’t just affection, it was a promise. A silent vow that he would give you this home, this future, this life.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

You and Spencer were sat in the waiting room of your doctors office, waiting for your first official prenatal checkup.

The last visit had only been to confirm your pregnancy, a whirlwind appointment where the doctor estimated you were around seven weeks along. Now, at ten weeks, the reality of it all was settling in. And with it came nerves, fear, even.

You had read online that the first trimester was the most nerve-wracking. The uncertainty of it all made your chest feel tight.

“Y/N Y/L/N.” a nurse called Spencer's fingers immediately tightened around yours as he stood, guiding you forward. The two of you followed the nurse down the hall and into a small exam room.

“The doctor will be in shortly.” she said with a polite smile before stepping out.

You sat down on the exam table, exhaling “I’m nervous.”

Spencer didn't even try to pretend “Me too.” your stomach twisted “What if something’s wrong? What do we do?” the question left your lips before you could even stop it, your mind already spiraling through worst-case scenarios.

Spencer's hand moved up and down your arm, in slow, soothing motions. “Let's not think about that, okay? Everything is fine.” He tried his best to push aside his fear to be strong for you

You nodded

“If anything happens, I’m here.” His eyes locked on yours, filled with quiet determination.

“okay.”

The appointment went better than you could have hoped. Relief washed over you the moment you heard the rhythmic thump of your baby’s heartbeat. Strong and steady, exactly as the doctor assured you, several times, because Spencer had insisted on triple checking.

“Is there anything we should be looking out for in the next few weeks?” Spencer asked, the doctor chuckled “First-time parents, right?”

You both nodded in unison.

“You’ll know if something feels off, mom.” She said reassuringly “And Dad, just be there every step of the way. Give her massages, help her relax. You two are going to do great.”

Spencer gave a polite nod, but it was clear he still wanted more information. “Thank you.” He said, though his expression remained contemplative as the doctor stepped out.

As soon as the door closed, you turned to him “I need to hear the heartbeat again. We need one of those at-home monitors.”

He nodded immediately “We can get one.” No hesitation, no questions, just unwavering agreement.

After leaving the doctors office, Spencer took you out for food. The two of you sat in a booth at a small diner, waiting for your orders.

You stirred your milkshake. “You know, since I’m ten weeks now, that gives us about two weeks to figure out how we’re going to tell the team.”

Spencer leaned back, considering. “I was thinking… since we found that house we both loved, when we finally get accepted for it, maybe we can have a cookout and just tell them there.”

You grinned “That’s actually a really good idea, a house warming party with a baby announcement.”

He looked pleased with himself.

Your excitement grew. “We have to get that house now. My baby needs that room with the gorgeous big window.” you dramatically say

“We’ll get it.” He promised, reaching across the table to squeeze your hand.

Spencer had always been thoughtful, but lately, it felt like he was operating on an entirely different level. Whatever you wanted, he was already one step ahead, ready to make it happen. It was like you unlocked some primal instinct in him, the need to protect, to provide. To make you feel like the most important person in the world.

And, truthfully, to him, you were.

“Spencer.” You spoke his name softly, drawing his attention. His eyes flicked up from his coffee “Yeah?”

“Thank you.” Your voice was steady, but full of emotion “I’ve never felt like this before. No one has ever made me feel this special. I know our situation is different from tradition, but you make me feel like none of that matters, you make me believe everything is going to be okay.”

His expression softened, something tender flickering in his gaze “You make me feel like everything’s going to be okay too.”

You smiled “I can’t wait for us to be in our home, together.”

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The next day after your appointment, you and the team were called in before the sun even had a chance to rise. It had to be serious, Hotch never called anyone in this early unless it was that urgent.

“We’ll be on our way.” Spencer said groggily into his phone as he sat up on the bed, there was a pause before Hotch responded, his tone pointed “We’re?”

Spencer’s eyes widened in panic “Oh no, I meant I’m on the way. Sorry sir, I’m just half asleep.”

Hotch didn’t buy it one bit. “Reid, just make sure you and Y/L/N get here soon.” The call had ended before Spencer could say anything else. He sat there mouth slightly opened in shock.

“I think Hotch knows.” He muttered, glancing at you “Yeah, I wouldn’t doubt it after that slip up.” You teased, rubbing his shoulder reassuringly “It’s alright.”

The two of you hurried to get ready, grabbed your go-bags, and rushing out the door

By the time you arrived, the entire team was already gathered in the briefing room, including Garcia, which meant she’d be traveling with the team. You always loved when she did. JJ stood at the front, briefing everyone on a case out in Los Angeles.

Children were being kidnapped. Held hostage for days before being found again, alive, but barely. Most were so traumatized they couldn’t speak or even remember what happened to them.

Scanning over the photos, your heart clenched. These were people’s babies. Your throat tightened at the thought of what these parents must be going through. The fear, the helplessness. Your eyes stung.

A gentle touch under the tables startled you. Spencer’s hand found yours, squeezing lightly. He didn’t say anything, but you knew it was to comfort you.

You blinked rapidly, forcing yourself to stay composed.

Hotch’s voice cut through the room. “Wheels up in thirty.”

Everybody nodded, absorbing the severity of this case. “This is sick,” Emily muttered as she flips through the files. “Yeah.” JJ agreed, pressing a hand to her chest “These poor kids.”

Morgan clenched his jaw “We’re gonna get the bastard that’s doing this.” He was determined.

“Hopefully.” You whispered, pushing back from the table. You needed air.

On the jet, your nausea hit full force. You pressed a hand to your stomach, trying to keep yourself together.

“Here, Drink some water.” Spencer handed you a water bottle, his expression tense. “You're supposed to stay hydrated.”

You smiled despite the queasiness “Thank you.”

Across from you, Emily raised an eyebrow “That’s really sweet, Spencer.”

“Just trying to help.” he awkwardly smiled but quickly made his way back to his own seat, avoiding everyone's eyes.

Garcia leaned close, whispering in your ear “Lover boy isn’t very good at hiding things.”

You chuckled softly. “He’s just worried. I don’t think he cares at this point.”

Closing your eyes, you tried to rest, but it was impossible.

David’s voice pulled you back “Rough morning?”

“Yeah, went out last night. Just feeling sick from all the drinks.” You lied Morgan snorted “you? Going out?”

“Yes.” You shot back “Don’t be jealous I didn’t invite you.” He smirked “The more I learn about you.”

Unfortunately thought David wasn’t done “Who’d you go out with?”

“Just some old friends.” You shrugged, hoping he’d drop it, he just nodded, thankfully.

You shifted, suddenly hyper-aware of Hotch watching you. His gaze was sharp, calculating.

He knows.

They all probably do. Who were you and Spencer kidding? You were surrounded by the best profilers in the country.

At the Los Angeles police department, you all set up quickly diving into work. The weight of the case, combined with your exhaustion, made it hard to focus.

“Agent, are you listening?”

You snapped back to reality. Hotch was staring at you expectantly.

“Sorry, I-I got distracted.”

His expression didn't soften. “Now is not the time to be distracted.”

You swallowed hard, nodding. “I know, it won't happen again.”

“You're coming with JJ and me. We’re interviewing the most recent victims' parents.”

You straightened “Got it.”

Spencer watched as you walked away, his jaw tight. There was nothing he could do, but he was grateful you were in trusted hands.

Interviewing the parents was brutal. They sobbed, pleading for their twelve-year-old son to come home.

“Please.” the father begged “Tell us you're close to finding whoever is doing this.”

Hotch’s voice was steady. “We just got here, but I assure you, we’re working as fast as possible.”

You leaned forward gently. “Has your son ever mentioned any adults he trusted? A teacher, a coach, a counselor maybe?”

They thought for a moment before the mother spoke. “He saw a school counselor every two weeks.”

JJ frowned. “Do you know their name?”

The parents shook their heads.

“We only found out about it a month ago.” the father admitted. “The school never told us.”

Hotch’s expression darkened “They didn't notify you?”

“No.” the mother said. “We thought it was odd, but it seemed to help him, and maybe he didn't want us to know.”

Back at the station, Garcia worked fast, digging through school records. It didn't take long to connect the dots, two school counselors, both men in their late forties, working at different schools but targeting kids the same way.

“That has to be it.” Morgan said

Hotch nodded “We have addresses. Move now.”

He started assigning teams. “Y/L/N, Rossi, and JJ, you're with me. Prentiss, Morgan, and Reid take the second location.”

As you checked your vest and gun, spencer stepped in front of you. “You can't go.”

Your brows furrowed. “Spencer-”

“I can't let you go.” his voice was firm, but there was desperation in his eyes. You exhaled sharply. “Spencer, we don't have time for this. There are kids who need us.”

He shook his head. “No.”

“What's going on?” Hotch’s voice cut in. You hesitated, searching for an excuse. But spencer beat you to it.

“She’s pregnant.” he said without hesitation

Silence.

Hotch’s eyes flicked to you, he gave a small nod. “Stay here.”

And just like that, they were gone.

You watched as they left, feeling betrayed. Spencer hadn't even given you a choice.

“He did it because he cares,” Garcia said softly. You shook your head “he picked the worst possible moment. This is my job, and I'm still capable.”

She just gave you an apologetic look

You sighed and sat down.

It had been thirty minutes. No updates. No calls. Nothing.

The silence was suffocating, and every passing second made your anxiety climb higher.

“I should go.” You said suddenly pushing up from your chair, Garcia’s head snapped up, eyes wide. “No, you shouldn’t. Hotch told you to stay.” She reminded you firmly

You bit the inside of your cheek, restless “I can’t just sit here-”

Before you could finish, Garcia’s phone rang, cutting through the tension. She answered immediately, and as soon as she did, the color drained from her face.

“What?” You demanded, stepping closer.

Garcia swallowed hard “okay, okay. We’ll be there.” She said into the phone before looking at you with terrified eyes “Spencer’s been shot.”

The words barely registered at first. It was like she had spoken in a language you didn’t understand.

“What?” You choked out, shaking your head, but she nodded “We need to go now.”

For a moment, you couldn’t move, the room felt like it had tilted slightly, but you snapped out of it, instinct kicked in and you grabbed the SUV keys without another word.

Garcia gave you the address of the hospital, and you barely remembered the drive. Your hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly your knuckles were white.

When you finally arrived and rushed inside, the first thing you saw was a team of EMTs pushing a gurney through the sliding doors.

Your breath caught in your throat.

Spencer.

There was so much blood, his skin looked pale, almost ghostly.

Your heart dropped, the world around you blurred, and muffled as if you were underwater.

You moved without thinking, trying to get to him, but someone grabbed you, holding you back.

“Let me go!” You struggled, twisting, trying to break free, but the grip was firm. You turned, frantic, only to see Hotch standing there. He was saying something, his lips were moving, his expression serious, but you couldn’t process a single word.

Everything was too fast and too slow all at once.

Tears ran down your face as you stood frozen, helpless, watching Spencer disappear down the hall.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Hours had passed as you waiting in the waiting room for any updates on Spencer, every hour feeling longer than the last.

The nurse had came by an hour or two ago with a small update informing that things were going well in surgery and he was expected to pull through but your mind wasn’t letting you rest, worried that anything could go wrong any minute.

The waiting room felt suffocating, and no matter how many deep breathes you took, the anxiety wouldn’t settle.

Most of the team had drifted off to sleep, curled up in the uncomfortable hospital chairs. But you couldn’t. Every time you closed your eyes, your mind played worst-case scenarios, refusing to let you rest.

“How are you feeling?”

The voice startled you, and you turned to see Hotch taking the seat beside you.

You blinked, not really sure how to answer that question. “I’m fine.” You answered

Hotch studied you for a moment before speaking again. “How far along are you?”

It took you a second to remember that little argument you and spencer had before he left, you couldn't believe you were upset with him and now he was in surgery.

“Ten weeks.” you softly say “Almost in my second trimester.”

Hotch nodded, a small hint of a smile crossing his face. “That’s wonderful.”

“Yeah.” you softly smiled “Spencer’s the father,” he said but he wasn't asking, he said it like he already knew, which of course he did, and you were sure everyone else definitely already knew too.

You looked down at your hands, as you nervously twisted your fingers “Yeah.”

Hotch didn’t hesitate. “You two are going to be great parents.”

The certainty in his voice made you smile. “I hope so.”

Before he could say anything else, a nurse entered the waiting room. “Spencer Reid?”

You were on your feet instantly, Hotch right beside you.

“He’s out of surgery.” The nurse informed you two. “Everything went well, and he should be waking up soon.” A breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding finally escaped. Relief flooded you so fast.

“Go. Stay with him.” Hotch gave you a reassuring look. You nodded, already moving. “I’ll call when he wakes up.”

The nurse had led you down the hall to Spencer’s room. He was lying peacefully on the bed, his face pale but his chest rising and falling steadily. The sight of him, alive and breathing, almost brought you to your knees.

The nurse gave you a small smile before stepping out, leaving just the two of you. You sat in the chair beside his bed, your eyes never leaving his face.

He looked so beautiful.

Minutes had passed, and then an hour. Finally, Spencer stirred. His fingers twitching against the sheets before his eyes fluttered open.

“Y/n?” His voice was groggy. “I’m right here.” You whispered, reaching for his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

His eyes locked onto yours, and his brow furrowed. “I’m so sorry.”

Tears pricked your eyes. “What? Why are you sorry?”

“I shouldn’t have- at the station, I shouldn’t have made that decision for you.” His voice cracked, and a tear had slipped down his cheek.

“Spencer.” You whispered, letting out a soft laugh. “I don’t care about that anymore. I’m just happy you’re okay.”

Of course, only Spencer would wake up from surgery apologizing. He was the kindest, most selfless person you knew.

“Where’s everyone?” He asked, his fingers still curled around yours “in the waiting room. Do you want me to get them?”

He shook his head “Not yet. I just want it to be us for now.” Your heart swelled “Okay.”

He shifted slightly, wincing, then looked at you with pleading eyes. “Lay with me?”

You hesitated. “Spence, I don’t want to hurt you-”

“Please.” He whispered “I just need to feel you close.”

That was all it took for you to carefully climb onto the bed beside him, mindful of the wires and IVs. His arm wrapped around you as best as they could, his warmth seeping into you.

You rested your head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. “Spencer.” You murmured, he hummed in response, his fingers tracing soothing patterns along your arm.

“I love you.”

There was a pause, and then his arm tightened around you. “I love you more.”

You tilted your head to look at him, and he was already smiling. “So all I had to do was get shot to hear those words?” He teased “I’d get shot a million more times if it meant hearing you say it again.”

You let out a small laugh. “Well luckily for you, that won’t be necessary. I’ll tell you every day. Every hour, if you want.”

Before spencer could say anything, your phone rang.

You glanced at the screen and saw your realtors name. Spencer raised an eyebrow “You should answer.”

You sighed, debating it, but Spencer gave you a small nod so reluctantly you answered.

“Hello?”

“y/n! I was just calling to tell you that the owners want to continue moving forward with you and Spencer! You guys got the house!”

Your mouth fell open slightly, and you looked at Spencer in shock. You were excited and happy but after today, nothing could make you more happy than just being in Spencer’s arms.

“Oh.” You breathed “That’s…that’s great.”

“Isn’t it?” She beamed “Unfortunately, Spencer and I we are away right now.” You inform her

“That’s no problem! Once you’re back, we can move forward with the paperwork.” You nodded even though she couldn’t see you. “Sounds good.”

After a few more exchanges, you hung up.

“Wow. Talk about timing.” Spencer softly chuckled, you smiled tiredly “I know.”

“This is good, though, right? We got the house.” He said sensing you weren’t as excited. You nodded, but your focus was on him “Yeah, it is. But right now, I don’t care about that. I just want you to recover.”

He grinned “I will. Now I just get to recover in our dream home… With my girlfriend.”

You wrinkled your nose “Girlfriend sounds weird.” You admit to him. “What would you prefer?” He asked smirking, you shrugged. “I don’t know.”

But you did know.

His fingers brushed your cheek, his touch featherlight. “I’d marry you right this second if that’s what you wanted.”

Your breath caught.

“But,” He continued “You don’t deserve to be asked in a hospital bed. You deserve something romantic. Something perfect.”

You curled into him, holding him as close as you could.

“Then I guess, I’ll just have to wait.” You whispered, Spencer smiled pressing his lips to your head “Not long.” He promised

You and Spencer spent the next few hours in each others comfort, neither of you saying much. There was something comforting about the silence, about just being together after everything that happened today.

Then, as expected, there was finally a knock at the door.

“Come in.” Spencer called, his voice still a little hoarse.

The door swung open, revealing the entire team. Penelope, Derek, Emily, JJ, Rossi, and of course Hotch. Each of them were holding some combination of flowers, balloons, and gift bags.

Spencer let out a soft chuckle as they all piled into the tiny hospital room, barely fitting. “Sorry for the wait, guys.” He said, his fingers still loosely tangled with yours.

“Hey, man, it’s alright.” Derek said, setting a bouquet down on the table. Then he smirked. “Understandable you wanted some alone time with your girl.”

Spencer’s face immediately turned bright red, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“You really thought you could keep that from us?” Rossi teased, raising an eyebrow.

“We called it, we knew it.” JJ added, exchanging a look with Emily.

“This is somehow both surprising and completely unsurprising.” Emily said with a smirk. “Though, I am personally offended you didn’t tell us the moment we found out you were pregnant in the restroom.”

Derek’s eyes widened “Wait, you guys knew before?”

“Of course.” JJ said, shrugging. “We just didn’t know who the father was, but you know we had our suspicions.” She shot Spencer a pointed look

Spencer, still red-faced, shifted slightly in the bed. “Well. Uh-”

“Oh please!” Penelope cut in, grinning “I knew everything.” She bragged

The entire room erupted into laughter, the teasing only growing as everyone started sharing their theories, their suspicions, and all the little ways you and Spencer had definitely not been as sneaky as you thought.

“Like earlier on the jet, I knew you weren’t sick from drinking.” Rossi added with a knowing smirk

“Yeah, I should’ve figured something out then.” Derek sighed, shaking his head “I knew you weren’t a party girl.”

“I think the lesson learned today is that y/l/n and Reid are horrible at keeping things quiet.” Hotch said with his arms crossed a small smile showing

You groaned, embarrassingly hiding your face in your hands. “Okay, okay, we get it. You laughed, thoroughly embarrassed “We’re never hiding anything again.”

“Good.” Rossi said, looking pleased.

The teams teasing quickly spiraled into playful arguments, bets being placed on whether the baby will be a boy or girl, and a heated debate over who would be the babies favorite.

“I mean, lets be honest.” Derek smirked “It’s going to be me.”

“Excuse me? Its obviously going to be me.” Penelope said rolling her eyes

You laughed, shaking your head as the bickering continued.

Spencer had squeezed your hand, and you looked up at him both of you clearly grateful for the family you have and now the family you get to share with your little one. . .

I just want to say thank you all for the nice comments on the last chapter, I'm so glad a lot of you loved it sm<3

I also want to clarify, I am not a realtor nor ever been pregnant so if anything seems off or doesn't make sense, I'm sorry. lol.

Tag list :)

@coraline-jones353 @sleepysongbirdsings @alastorssimp @we-flower-fan @eg-dr3amer3 @bondwithme-murderstyle @cheriesbucky @criminallyvenomous @justlivinginadaydream

Don't forget to check out my other works<3 Here

1K notes · View notes

tbaluver · 10 months ago

Note

Hey (●’◡’●)ﾉ I really love your works and want to request a short/long story about lads guys reaction when they found out mc/reader has a high s*x drive and she's embarrassed about it ✧(｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

It's okay if u don't want to ʚ♡⃛ɞ(ू•ᴗ•ू❁)

I'll understand

P. S: I love youuuu ❤❤❤

If You Had A High Libido- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader genre: MDNI, 18+, suggestive content, oral reader receiving, head canons/ reactions + small smut scenarios a/n: hihi anonnie! i'm so happy to hear you love my works and i hope this was okay lmk ! if not this doesn't exist okay ദ്ദി ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ ) sorry it's taking me a while to write and post stuff i'm currently studying and it's taking up most of my time (っ- ‸ - ς) anyways i hope you enjoy reading ! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ p.s i love you too cutie ! your emoticons are soso cute i love them !! (づ๑•ᴗ•๑)づ♡ any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

poor baby was so confused on why you wanted to go for so many rounds. he thought he wasn't doing enough for you until he asked and that's when you embarrassingly told him about your high libido

"But....do you feel good?" He asked, tilting his head curiously.

"So good, that I can't get enough of you" You whisper, leaning in to press your forehead against his before pressing a heated kiss on his lips.

Xavier is always there to please you whenever you need or wanted him too. He can handle pretty much anything. If he was tired after many rounds, he'll lie down on his back and let you ride him til you meet your sweet release again. He'll give you plenty of options. You can ride his face, his thigh, whatever you want until you were satisfied.

When he says he'll be there for you, he means it. When you were whimpering softly, desperately ignoring the heat growing down there as you try to go back to sleep. You didn't want to wake up your sleeping boyfriend but it seems he was already awake. You felt his arms snake around your waist as he pulls you closer to him.

"Would you like me to help you?" He knew you would be lying if you said no, even if he slides his hand in between your legs to find you practically soaking already. You bit your lip, feeling his hard erection against your ass.

Zayne:

He didn't understand why you were so embarrassed about telling him. He knows and can read you so well. You can't hide anything from this man. He noticed the way you bit your lip when he licked off the excess ice cream on his fingers or when your thighs clenched when you watched him get dressed.

He would reassure you that having a high libido is natural to have and there is no "normal" sex drive.

"I can assure there is nothing to be embarrassed about having a high libido." He says, his voice remaining monotone as he adjusts his glasses. "Just tell me how I can help you."

He would not be irritated or bothered at all if you needed him. Although if he was busy with work then he'll make a couple arrangements to make sure he finishes his reports while you get your fill. He'll keep you seated on his lap and let you ride off his thigh or he'll keep a toy or his finger or two in you as he continues to finish his patient report with his other free hands.

He'll know what you want whenever you press your ass against him whenever you both cook or whenever you sit on his lap.

He slips a finger under your panties, pulling them down with ease. His cock was hard and he could feel your cunt soaking quickly. He settles you on top of the counter, slowly pushing his length inside of you. His pace starts off slow as your body hums in response.

“That’s it...just like that's my good girl”

The pot that was already cooking was probably close to burning as you two were distracted meeting your sweet release.

Rafayel:

Oh, He loves it way more than he should and he uses this to his advantage to feed off his little praise kink. He just loves to hear his cutie need him so so bad. Hearing you beg and whine for him is like a siren's song to his ears, attracting him closer to you.

"What's wrong cutie?" He asks, tilting his head to the side as he tucks the stray hair behind your ear. You bury your head in his chest, too flustered to admit you wanted more, even after all the rounds you've done together.

"Want m-more" You murmur, your voice muffled against his chest. He chuckles softly, clearly amused, and continues to tease you while gently stroking your hair. "What's that? You need my dick again? Do you want me to fill you up princess?"

You respond by rolling your hips, grinding against him, hoping he would get the idea.

He'll fill you up everyday or whenever you need him too. He loves watching you beg and drip a mix of yours and his juices down your thighs every time as if you were in heat.

"Want me that much? Gonna fill you up so much." Feeling his cum ooze down your legs, his dick going impossibly deeper inside of you. Snapping his hips as whines escape your lips.

Sylus:

“Satisfied baby?”

Your core ached for more and you silently debated on telling him. You knew if you told him you were satisfied, your vibrator or your hands can’t even compare what he does to please you. You rubbed your thighs together, trying to ease the ache that was forming in between them, not realizing Sylus notices this.

He leaned down, tracing kisses down your jawline, to your neck to grab your attention again. “Use your words baby.” He whispers hotly, his warm breath fanning against your skin.

"M-more Sy.."

It does not take him that long to get used to your high libido. If anything he can match your energy or do more. He'll keep going even if his stamina runs out, if it ever runs out.

Sometimes he's uses this to tease you. While he's away for a couple days, he'll send you pictures of his body. His shirt slightly lifted up to give you a tease of his abs and his v-line peeking above his waistband.

If he was feeling mean, he'll send you a mirror pic of his chiseled abdominal, and his carved v-line leading down to the girthiest dick you're familiar with or he'll send you a video of him stroking his dick to get you riled up. "Need my pretty girl to wrap her lips around it"

You're like a drug to him and he's addicted to you. He wants to spend as much time he has with you and he does not find you to be a bother if you were feeling needy when he was in his office.

He buries his head in your folds and you can feel his tongue in and out of you. You push your hips back to meet more of him as he reaches down with one hand to stroke himself. He groans into you, the vibrations bringing you closer to the edge. You reach down to play with your clit as he fucked you with his tongue.

He needed to be inside you as much as you want him to be.

2K notes · View notes

cyberhughes · 5 months ago

Text

TAPOUT!

jack hughes x fem!reader, quinn hughes x fem!reader, luke hughes , fem!reader, cole caufield x fem!reader, trevor zegras x fem!reader

IN WHICH… the new social media intern for the new jersey devils gets a proper welcome from her favourite boys

NOTE guys i had to take a pause on the requests because this was just on my mind so bad…and if this is the fic that gets me canceled for being too controversial then we went out w a bang!! (pun not intended)

also this is dedicated to my kitten clara👩🏻‍🍳🤝 @lovecla i’m glad i have someone to share my insanity with i love you👅👅

she got that million dollar ooh ooh ohh...

make her tap out!

you don’t know how you got into this position. or, multiple positions. hot tears blurred your vision from clearly seeing the men in front of you. the men who had been watching you like you were prey the moment you stepped into the arena as a new social media intern, waiting for their chance to pounce on you.

[ ౨ৎ ˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 ]

“hey!” you stopped your steps as you heard a familiar voice call out just before you were about to head over to the seats to film some practice content.

luke, who you had met a few times, had skated up to the gate, a friendly smile on his face as he approached. “it’s y/n, right?” he asked and you nodded with a smile, most of the time players didn’t really care for the social media girls, simply answering their questions and going on about their day like you didn’t exist. hell, they probably wouldn’t have recognized you if they saw you walking on the street.

“so uh, feel free to say no,” he started, scratching the back of his neck. “i was having a little get together with some other players tonight, and some friends from other teams too,” you nodded as you listened intently, scared you might zone out from admiring his features.

“and i was wondering if maybe you’d like to join? some of the other social media girls are gonna be there from the other teams so i was thinking that maybe you could like, connect with them or something? just cause you’re new.” he offered with a cheeky smile and you nodded, seeming calm but inside you were freaking out a bit, it was such a perfect opportunity!

you could get so many tips from the other girls, learning things from their past experience to limit any stupid mistakes you might make while learning on your own.

“yeah! i’d love to!” he grinned at your response, “okay, awesome! how ‘bout after practice i’ll give you the details?”

[ ౨ৎ ˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 ]

you took in a deep breath before you firmly knocked on the door of luke’s apartment, nervousness bubbled in your stomach as you waited. you were excited to meet the other girls, and make some possible new connections with anyone else. your hands fiddled with the hem of your skirt as you heard clattering and music on the other side.

the door swung open, revealing a grinning luke. you tried to hide your surprise when you saw him, usually you had either seen him in either hockey gear or in a suit. you thought that it was refreshing to see him in something so laid back, a simple tshirt and jeans matched with a backwards cap that pushed his curls nicely to the back and side of his head.

“hey y/n!” he stepped back to let you in. you returned the greeting as you stepped in as you scanned the apartment, and wow. he really downplayed on the ‘small get together’. the apartment was bustling with players of different teams chatting and drinking, yet you couldn’t spot any of the social media girls. hm, maybe they were running late.

luke noticed the way your shoulders dropped slightly in disappointment. “oh, yeah i’m sorry y/n.” he shook his head as he led you into the living room where some familiar faces were sitting. “the other girls said they couldn’t come anymore. last minute family emergencies and some illnesses or something.” he spoked and you simply nodded. “oh, that’s too bad.” you responded, it was too bad. but you looked on the brighter side of things, you would get to know the players in a more candid setting, even starting some new friendships.

“hey guys, y/n came.” luke introduced you to everyone and you waved shyly. sitting beside jack on the couch was trevor zegras and cole caufield, with quinn sitting on an arm chair just beside.

“hey y/n!” jack slapped his hands on his thighs as he stood up from his position on the couch. “it’s too bad the other girls couldn’t come, but we’re still gonna have fun, right?” he said and you nodded, cheeks slightly burning when he wrapped an arm around your shoulder. the greeting threw you off slightly, only having met him a handful of times

“what do you say we get you a drink, hm?” he offered and you nodded, following along, you didn’t want to be impolite. you’d have one drink to settle your nerves before getting to know the players.

you didn’t notice the devilish grin jack shot luke as he placed a hand on the small of your back, guiding you into the kitchen.

the night was going pretty smoothly, you had spent most of your time with the five guys you had initially been introduced with. you talked about your major for a bit, why you wanted to go into sports marketing, a bit about your personal life.

you went to take a sip of your drink as you listened to quinn talk about, well you weren't really sure what, but you had noticed your cup was empty. luke peered over, “oh, i can refill that for you.” he reached out his hand and you smiled, “sure, maybe just a soda, please?” he nodded. you don’t know how many times that night luke got up to get you another soda, but you didn’t complain. he was being a good host and you didn’t want to be rude.

“so what does your boyfriend think of you working in sports marketing?” cole smiled, taking a sip of his drink. you shook your head and chuckled in slight embarrassment, “oh, i don’t have a boyfriend.”

“really? but you’re so pretty?” trevor hummed from beside you. he had his arm draped behind you on the couch, and he reached up to twirl a strand of your hair as you blushed fifty shades of red.

you didn’t know how to respond to the compliment, squeaking out a quiet ‘thank you.’

the room started to get hot, maybe from embarrassment, maybe from the amount of bodies crowded into one space.

“hey, you okay?” quinn asked, noticing the way you were playing with the collar of your cardigan, trying to loosen it’s grip on your neck.

“uh, yeah sorry. just feeling a bit weird.” you gave him a tight lipped smile, you didn’t want to ruin the night, you had worked so hard to get where you are today and you didn’t want to ruin any of your newly made friendships with the players.

“hey it’s okay,” jack moved a few strands of hair away from your face, an expression of false concern taking over his features. “why don’t you lay down in luke's room for a bit while we call it a night?” he offered and you shook your head, “i don’t want to ruin your night.” he smiled at your pout, “don’t worry ‘bout it, luke will show you the way.”

and so luke led you to his room, letting you lean your weight onto his arm as he guided you.

“just sit down m’kay?” you nodded and plopped on the bed, feeling a weird warmth spread throughout your body. were you catching a fever? was it pms? you had never felt this feeling before. “they’ll tell everyone to go home.” he stroked your hair, letting you lean onto his shoulder.

quinn walked into the room, with jack, trevor and cole following right behind. “you okay y/n?” quinn asked as he took a seat next to you, pressing the back of his hand to your forehead. “you’re getting hot, why don’t you take your sweater off?” you nodded and let him unbutton your cardigan, peeling off the fabric and letting his cold hands graze your skin.

“why don’t you stay over tonight?” luke murmured as his eyes fell to your cleavage once your cardigan was taken off.

“yeah, we don’t want you out driving like this.” trevor kneeled in front of you, examining your face as the boys nodded in agreement.

was this inappropriate? staying over at luke’s apartment? you were just the social media girl, you didn’t want it to seem like you had taken this job just to get closer to the players. then again, maybe they were right. it wasn’t safe for a young woman to head home alone in an uber so late at night.

“just let us take care of you baby, okay?” luke pushed your hair to the side as he whispered into your ear, letting his lips trail down to your neck where he placed a small kiss. you shivered at the touch, feeling your butterflies in your stomach. “o-okay…” you sighed when he pressed another kiss onto your shoulder.

“you feeling hot? why don’t we take off the rest of your clothes, hm?” quinn’s fingers toyed with the strap of your tank top. “is…is this weird?” you looked up at him with doe eyes, tears barely forming. he gave you an endearing smile, admiring how cute you looked. “no, we’re all friends here, just wanna take care of you.” he said and you nodded.

quinn carefully helped you out of your tank top and skirt, revealing your lace bra and panties which you tried to cover up in embarrassment. you felt the bed dip behind you, jack and cole approaching on the situation.

you felt like prey underneath their gazes, their eyes burning over your exposed flesh like they were getting ready to devour you, their mouths practically watering

“so pretty…” cole's voice was barely above a whisper as he watched they way trevor traced his fingers closer and closer to your core.

this was extremely wrong, it was dirty. yet you couldn’t help but feel your panties get damper at their ministrations.

trevor looked up at you, tilting his head with a friendly smile, “gonna let us use you, pretty girl?” as he gently pushed open your thighs and you gave him a dazed nod, your response nearly coming out as a whimper, “yes.” you knew what they were doing, you knew that this was extremely perverted and wrong, but you were too far gone.

your lips parted in a soft gasp as you felt his fingers trace over your cunt overtop of your pink panties. you felt so many hands on you, groping at your breasts through your bra, slender hands pulling your thighs open just a bit further.

trevor pushed your panties to the side, toying with your slick before pushing in a single finger, looking up for your reaction. you whimpered, leaning back onto cole’s chest while he placed a small kiss on your temple.

trevor slowly pumped his finger, your arousal growing with the overwhelming amount of stimulation you were receiving from everyone. “so tight…” he mumbled as he stared with amazement before forcing a second and soon third finger. he pumped his digits in and out, earning moans from you that felt like music to their ears. from behind you, jack reached around to toy with your clit, bringing you closer and closer to your orgasm.

tears threatened to fall as you felt the heat pool in your lower stomach, “m…m gonna cum..” you whined, body fighting the way cole hand you down as you squirmed.

“go on baby, it’s okay.” quinn licked at your ear and that was all it took for you to snap, your first orgasm of the night washing over you with an intensity you had never felt before.

“fuck..” luke’s mouth dropped open as he watched your release squirt out onto trevor's tattooed arm, his fingers practically jackhammering into you as he pulled every moan he could from you until you were breathless.

everything felt hazy as they lied you down, they took their time taking off the only fabric that you had left, leaving you fully exposed and vulnerable. you heard some rummaging around but stayed focused on catching your breath.

you dazily watch jack as he climbed on top of you, trailing comforting kisses from your stomach up to your neck. “you okay with this?” he asked as he stroked his cock from below you, positioning it at your fluttering entrance. you nodded frantically and he smirked, “‘course you are.” you felt your stomach drop at the mockery in his voice, but you didn’t have much time to think about it before he pushed into you, taking all the air from your lungs. “fuck baby,” he groaned, letting himself sink fully, tears pricked at your eyes, threatening to fall at the intense stretch.

he didn’t give you time to adjust as he began thrusting into you with fervor, lifting your legs and pressing them to your chest. his fingers dug into your thighs and he pushed them down, leaving bruises onto your delicate skin. “you’re so dirty, y/n.” he grinned from above you and you felt the tears fall, which he quickly kissed away. you could tell he was about to cum when his thrusts became harsher, his cock kissing at your cervix as he let out deep groans.

his gaze flickered from the way your pussy sucked him in, up to your face, cheeks red and stained with tears as you watched him with hooded eyes. “fuckkk,” he breathed out, letting himself shoot his load into you, hips stuttering as he did so.

you let out a whine when he pulled out, feeling his cum drip out of your hole and down to your ass. you don’t even notice when he had switched positions with trevor and cole, the two boys admiring your fucked out expression before taking their turn with you.

“such a pretty little whore.” trevor smiled at you sweetly, a contrast to his degrading words. he flipped you onto your stomach with ease, lifting your hips up so that your ass was flush with his pelvis.

cole positioned himself in front of you, and you knew what he wanted. you stuck your tongue out, looking up at him with doe eyes and he swore he could’ve cum just from the sight. he slapped his cock over your tongue as trevor spread your ass cheeks from behind, getting a better view of your swollen cunt before he lined himself up with your already leaking hole.

you moaned around cole’s cock as trevor thrusted into you, the vibrations sending instant pleasure throughout his body. you steadied yourself by placing your hands on his thick thighs, letting your nails dig into his skin as he let out the prettiest whines.

you let out a squeal when trevor slapped your ass, quickly smoothing his hand over the red mark to soothe the pain. “so filthy,” it didn’t take them long before they came, shooting their loads from both ends.

you had no choice but to swallow cole’s cum when he pushed your head down all the way, nose to pelvis as his body shook in pleasure.

he cupped your face with one hand, stroking your cheek with his thumb as he thanked you, leaving your heart fluttering. trevor placed a kiss onto your back before the two of them moved away, letting quinn take over.

quinn’s eyes scanned you with a look of disapproval and pity. “so messy, baby.” you pouted at his words, he was right though. you had cum and spit leaking at the corner of your mouth, your hair was tousled and your cunt was already stuffed full. he grabbed your tank top that was thrown onto the bed earlier and quickly cleaned you up.

“there we go.” he smiled softly before leaning down to give you a proper kiss on this lips and your eyes fluttered closed, your hands reaching up to tangle themselves in his hair. he trailed his kiss from your mouth down to your breasts, licking and sucking at the reddening skin. “poor baby,” he murmured, “didn’t even get to cum again, hm? it’s okay though, i’m gonna take proper care of you.” he said, a slight dig to the men who had previously used you without any regard for your own pleasure.

he laid you down, dipping his middle finger between your folds, chuckling at the way your hole fluttered, clenching around nothing. “i’ll take care of you.” he soon replaced his finger with his aching cock, pushing into you gently as he hushed your whimpers with a kiss.

“doing so good for us, aren’t you baby?” his hand trailed down to lazily massage at your neglected clit. “q-quinn…” your nails scratched at his back, leaving bright red marks and he hissed at the pleasurable pain, nipping at your collarbones. “it’s okay, i got you baby.” he rocked into you, never ceasing his actions on your clit and you felt your eyes roll to the back of your head as his thrusts deepened. “you gonna cum for me, pretty girl? huh? gonna put on a show on for them?” you whined at his words, squirming underneath him as the heat pooled in your belly.

“k-kiss..” you mumbled and he smiled, “yeah, i got you.” he leaned down and you kissed him deeply, moving your hips up to meet him halfway. “go on baby, let go.” he whispered against your lips when he felt your grip on him tighten, your pussy spasming as you came, him following soon after, pulling out to cum onto the soft skin of your stomach.

your vision was blurry as you came down from your orgasm, body on fire from the consistent stimulation with no break. you felt quinn pepper kiss over your face, “you did so good baby.” he placed on last kiss on your lips, savoring the sweet taste of your saliva, “it’s okay, it’s almost over.” he reassured and you hummed in confusion, before you saw luke standing at the edge of the bed.

you didn’t know if you had it in you, and god he looked big standing there. “luke…” you whimpered as you tried crawling back up the bed, but he grabbed your ankles and pulled you back down.

“m’sorry baby,” he pouted, “you’re gonna let me fuck you, right? it’s only fair. i’m the one who thought you were pretty first.” he said like it was a competition before pushing himself in, your eyes going wide as your body tensed. even though you had been fucked plenty that night, none of them could’ve possible compared to the way luke’s cock was stretching you out.

hot tears fell down your cheeks as he thrusted into you, letting one of his large hands press down onto your lower stomach to feel the bulge of his cock as he fucked you. “too big luke!” you cried, thrashing underneath him and leaned down closer, his cock hitting deeper. “you can take it, know you can.” he grunted, his tip brushing against your cervix and you gripped onto his biceps like he was your lifeline. “luke! s’too much!” you cried and he licked as the salty tears from your face.

he didn’t let up his pace, continuing to fuck into you like he had been dreaming of since he first laid eyes on you at the rink. “my pretty girl...” he cooed as your screams of overstimulation echoed in his ears as he reached places inside you no one had ever reached before.

it wasn’t long before yet another load was dumped into you, your eyes lolling to the back of your head as you let out a silent scream while you came for the final time that night.

the room fell silent, the boys entranced at your fucked out expression, limp on the bed with your skin decorated with their cum.

“fuck, wait till nico sees this.” jack was quick to pull out his phone, snapping a picture of you.

“there’s no leaving us now, baby doll.”

©cyberhughes; do not copy, translate or repost my work without permission.

#jack hughes smut #quinn hughes smut #luke hughes smut #cole caufield smut #trevor zegras smut #jack hughes x reader #quinn hughes x reader #luke hughes x reader #cole caufield x reader #trevor zegras x reader #nhl imagine #nhl smut #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #hockey smut

1K notes · View notes

wooyoungiewritings · 1 month ago

Text

Borrowed Time - Seonghwa x Reader (Part 3)

Summary: You try to be honest and tell your husband about your relationship with Seonghwa, but it doesn't quite go after plan. But you've had enough of playing nice, so you break the rules and give in to your hunger for Seonghwa. But what happens when it all comes crashing down when it's all perfect, and your husband gives you an ultimatum?

Word count: 9.8K

Genre: Fluff, Rich Seonghwa, angst, DRAMA (u might cry), slow burn, smut (YAAAALLLL THIS IS FILTHYYYYY IM SO SORRY MOM AND DAD)

warnings: Seonghwa with reader (fem pronouns), TEASINGGG omg, DOM Seonghwa, fingering, oral (fem receiving), choking, spitting, LOTS of dirtytalk, creampie, aftercare (<3), heartbreak (?), lmk if I missed anything!

PART2 PART4

This is all for fun and is not meant to represent Seonghwa in any way.

The day after the annual company dinner, you're home alone again, waiting for your husband to be home. The quiet pressing in like a weighted blanket. You’ve opened the same text thread with your husband three times, thumb hovering over a message you never send. The words feel too heavy for a screen. Too fragile to survive being read without your voice wrapped around them.

So you wait. He said he’d be home all Sunday, but there’s no sight of him.

You sit on the edge of the couch, elbows on your knees, hands twisted together in your lap. You’re picking at a hangnail, teeth digging into your bottom lip, while the clock on the wall ticks out its judgment in slow, steady seconds. Every imagined version of the conversation plays through your head, ten different openings, twelve different ways to admit you’ve been falling into something deep and real with someone else. With Seonghwa. With his boss.

But every sentence feels like a betrayal. Too guilty. Too selfish. Too bold. And too late to take back.

You don’t even hear the front door open until it bangs shut behind him with the kind of energy that says he’s already somewhere else in his head.

“Babe! Babe, I’m just grabbing a charger, and have you seen my blue striped shirt?” His voice echoes down the hallway, fast and distracted. You hear his shoes hit the floor one after the other, the thud of his bag against the wall.

You blink, your body lurching upright from the couch. “You’re home late.”

“Yeah, had to grab some things, heading over to her place,” he calls back casually, like it’s not a blade between your ribs.

You follow the sound of his voice, your bare feet quiet against the floor. Your pulse is already climbing, fast and hot in your neck. He’s in the bedroom, already yanking open drawers like it’s a routine he’s done a hundred times. Maybe he has.

His shirt’s only half buttoned, hair still damp from a rushed shower, a duffel bag hanging off one shoulder. He doesn’t even glance at you as he moves.

You stop in the doorway. Hover. “I-, can we talk for a second?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure, talk while I pack,” he says, like it’s all so simple. “You always catch me at the last minute, you know that? It’s like your special skill or something.”

You watch him toss a pair of jeans into the bag, roll up a hoodie, cram it in too tight. The sleeves are sticking out. He doesn’t care.

“I have something important to say.”

“Hit me,” he says, not even looking up. “As long as it’s not about the gas bill, I paid it. And hey, guess what? Jen and Caleb broke up. You totally called that, didn’t you?”

You open your mouth, close it. “I-”

“Also,” he goes on, now moving around the room with a momentum you can’t stop, “We’re going to this wine cabin thing next weekend with her friends. Fancy place, hot tub, the works. Kinda insane. You’d hate it.” He laughs, like he hasn’t left you alone for months while you tried to convince yourself this arrangement wasn’t breaking you.

“I’ve been seeing someone,” you say, loud enough that it forces him to pause.

Only for a second. Then he zips the side pocket of his bag and straightens. “Really?” He flashes you a grin over his shoulder. “Finally! Thank God. I was starting to think you were gonna fossilize in front of that dumb dating show you like.”

Your stomach turns. “I-”

“No, seriously, I’m glad,” he says, swinging the bag onto both shoulders like the conversation is a warm-up for something more interesting. “This is the whole point, right? Open and honest. No secrets. No drama. This is growth. Proud of you.” He gives you a joking little salute. “So? Who is he? Mystery man from the supermarket? Did you fall for a barista? Actually-, don’t tell me. Keep it spicy.”

You try again. Your voice is trembling now, no matter how hard you try to sound steady. “I think you should know. It’s-”

He cuts you off, shaking his head with a fond smile. “Babe, I’m happy for you. Really. You needed this. You’ve been so... closed off. Like you forgot how to flirt. It’s good for you to feel wanted again.”

The words land like a slap. He’s still talking, but all you hear is the echo of that condescending tone. Like you’re broken. Like you’re someone he’s left behind without ever saying goodbye.

“It’s Seonghwa,” you say.

But he’s already back to packing, muttering, “Shit, where’s my charger?” as he digs through the mess on the desk. He doesn’t hear you. Or maybe he does and chooses not to react.

Your heart is pounding so loudly you can barely hear yourself breathe.

He finds the charger, tucks it into his bag, and strides over to you. Kiss your cheek like everything’s fine. Like you’re still just his wife waiting around for him to come and go.

“Maybe this means we should keep the open thing going, huh?” he says with a grin. “Not just a year. Could be a lifestyle. You know, modern love and all that.”

You can’t even speak. Your throat’s too tight, your mouth too dry. Everything inside you is screaming, but all you do is stare.

“I gotta go,” he says. “She’s waiting. I’ll be back tomorrow or the day after.”

And then he’s gone. The door closes with a click.

You don’t move.

Not right away.

You just stand there in the hallway, trembling, your chest tight with something worse than hurt, disbelief. He didn’t care. Not even a little. You gave him the opening. You handed him your honesty. And he brushed right past it like it was a grocery list.

You had waited to be fair. Waited to be honest. Made yourself wait. Made Seonghwa wait. Waited until your heart couldn’t hold back anymore. Let the tension simmer, even when it hurt. You held Seonghwa at arm’s length for this?

You don’t even realize you’ve stood there for ten whole minutes until your legs start to ache. The door’s been shut. The apartment is silent. He’s gone. Again. And you’re still holding words that no one wanted to hear.

Something in you snaps.

You tried. You tried to do this the right way. You held yourself back for months, swallowed every urge, every look, every breathless pause between you and Seonghwa. You gave your husband time. Honesty. Respect. And it meant nothing.

Your hands shake as you grab your phone. No texts. No calls. No warning.

You just type in the address and call the cab.

The ride there is a blur. The driver makes small talk; you barely nod. Your knee bounces the whole way, fingers clenching in your lap like you can hold yourself together for just a few more minutes. Your heart is loud. Your mouth dry. Your body humming like it already knows.

You need him.

You need Seonghwa.

The second the cab pulls up to his building, you’re out. You don’t even wait for the receipt. You take the stairs because the elevator’s too slow. Every step feels like shedding.

Guilt, fear, hesitation. Gone. Gone. Gone.

You’re done waiting.

You knock, hard. Then again. You don’t even know if he’s home, don’t care what time it is, don’t care if you’re supposed to be polite.

When the door swings open, he’s there.

Soft shirt, loose belted pants, hair a little messy, like you caught him mid-evening routine. There’s music playing low in the background, some warm jazz tune, and the apartment smells like ginger and something sweet.

He blinks at first, surprised, but the second he sees your face, his expression shifts.

Gentle. Open.

“Hey,” he says, voice low and careful. “Are you-?”

You don’t let him finish.

You grab the collar of his shirt, pull him down, and kiss him like you’ve been drowning for weeks. It’s messy. Desperate. His lips part with a soft sound of surprise, and then he’s kissing you back just as hard.

Your fingers thread into his hair. His hands find your waist, steadying you, grounding you, but you don’t want to be steady. You want to fall. Into him. Onto him. Through him.

His hands find your waist, but you’re already pressing forward, and your back hits the door with a quiet thud. Your hands slide beneath his sweatshirt, nails dragging across the bare skin of his stomach. His breath shudders.

“Wait,” he murmurs, lips brushing yours. “Did you-, how did it-”

“Shut up,” you whisper, breathless, half-wild. You drag your mouth along his jaw, nip at his skin until he swallows hard. “Just fuck me. Now.”

His hands tighten at your waist. There’s a beat of stunned silence, like you just shattered whatever calm he had left.

Seonghwa’s smirk is all heat and mischief, but behind it, fire. “Yes ma’am.”

He lifts you in one fluid motion, arms firm beneath your thighs, and your breath catches as your back leaves the door. You wrap your legs around him instantly, clinging to the only thing that feels steady right now, him. His lips find yours again, hungry and claiming, as he carries you down the hall like he’s memorized the way blind.

You’re both breathing hard when the door swings open, when he walks you inside like he can’t afford to stop. And he can’t. He places you on the edge of the bed like you’re breakable, his last moment of gentleness, and your back hits the bed. He hovers over you, eyes devouring every inch of your face, your body, like he doesn’t know where to start because he wants everything at once.

Seonghwa doesn’t speak right away. His fingers trail up your thighs, slow and rough, like he’s making up for every second he couldn’t have you like this.

You open your mouth, but all that comes out is a soft whimper when his fingers curl around your hips, tugging you closer so your thighs frame his waist. He leans in, mouth brushing your jaw as his hand slides up, fingers splaying over your throat, not squeezing, not yet, but letting you feel the pressure. The control.

His voice is hoarse when he speaks. “You have no idea what you just started.” his fingers wrap around your jaw, tilting your face up to meet his. He leans in closer until his mouth brushes your cheek, your jaw, your lips, but doesn’t kiss you.

Not yet.

“Tell me,” he growls. “Tell me I can have you. Tell me you’re mine tonight.”

You whisper, trembling, “I’m yours. All of me.”

He lets out a sharp breath, almost a laugh, but there’s nothing soft about it. It’s dark and aching. He pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, and there’s nothing sweet there now. Just heat. Possession.

His hand slides down your stomach, slow and firm, and your hips arch before he even reaches the edge of your pants.

Your thighs press tighter around him. “Please,” you whisper, already breathless.

He laughs softly, low and cruel and utterly delighted. "That’s cute. But I haven’t even started." He tilts your head back by your throat and presses his mouth to yours, hot and slow, tongue sliding in with a groan like he’s starving.

He doesn’t take you right away.

Not like you expected. Not like you begged for.

He could. God, he wants to. He’s hard already, pulsing against you through his clothes, and every brush of your thighs makes him twitch with the effort it takes to hold back. But he doesn’t move fast. He just watches you for a long moment, thumb brushing the corner of your lips.

“I should make you wait,” he murmurs, tilting his head. “After all the things you’ve done.”

You’re panting, your chest rising with every breath, but you still manage a small, confused sound. “What things?”

He smiles, slow and dark. “Coming to my home in your little dresses, teasing me when you knew I couldn’t do anything. Sitting across from me at dinner like you weren’t soaking wet under the table. You think I didn’t notice?”

You whimper.

He dips his head lower, nose trailing your throat, and inhales. “You wanted me to lose control.”

You try to speak, but his hand slides up your inner thigh and all you can do is gasp.

“You wanted me to break. To forget I’m your husband’s boss. To drag you into a room and fuck you like you were mine already.” His lips brush your ear. “Isn’t that right, my love?”

“Yes,” you whisper, almost ashamed, but you shouldn’t be. Not with the way he growls low in his throat at your answer, like your honesty just made him hungrier.

“But I didn’t,” he says. “I was good.” His eyes roam your body, and there’s heat, awe, and vengeance all at once. “Now?” His hands slide to your hips, fingers curling tight. “Now I’m not going to be good.”

His shirt is unbuttoned now, but still on. His belt is still tight around his waist. Your breath catches, lips swollen, thighs pressed together as you chase after his mouth. He chuckles darkly, dragging his eyes over you as if deciding what he’s going to do to you first.

“You’re shaking already,” he murmurs, brushing his knuckles slowly along your jaw. “What happened to the girl who liked to tease me until I couldn’t speak?”

His fingers trace the hem of your top, moving so slow it’s maddening. He drags it up, inch by inch, until your skin is on display, but he doesn’t touch. He just looks.

“Take it off for me.”

Your hands shake as you pull it over your head. His eyes never leave yours.

“Good girl.”

You shiver.

He pulls your jeans down slowly, deliberately, like every inch of exposed skin is something he needs to memorize. His fingers trail down the insides of your thighs as he goes, mouth following with kisses that are too soft, too slow, because he knows it drives you crazy.

“God, look at you,” he murmurs, almost reverent, almost. Because then he grins. Sharp. Dangerous. “So fucking pretty when you’re desperate.”

You whimper, hips tilting toward him, needing him to do something, anything, and he just tuts like you’re a misbehaving student.

“Nuh-uh.” His palms flatten against your inner thighs, pushing you down, keeping you there. “You don’t get to be greedy. Not tonight. You made me wait, sweetheart. Now it’s your turn.” He leans down slowly, lips ghosting across your skin, from the inside of your knee to your hipbone. Not kissing where you need him, not yet, just tracing. Breathing. Teasing.

And when you try to move your hips again, chasing his mouth, he just pins you harder.

“I said wait.”

The growl in his voice sends a shiver down your spine. He kisses up your stomach instead. Licks between your breasts. Sinks back to press one single kiss just above your underwear. And stops there.

He leans in close, lips barely brushing your soaked heat through the fabric.

“Say please.”

You’re wrecked already, panting, trembling. “Please.”

He smiles. “Not yet.”

Then he spits. A slow trail between your legs that soaks into the thin fabric, and finally drags his tongue up the damp center, just once.

You sob.

He grins and pushes your panties to the side. He slides a single, thick finger between your folds, and yes.

You’re soaked.

He moans softly against your skin, lips trailing lower. “Fuck-, listen to that,” he hisses, dragging his finger up and down slowly, gathering the slick. “You’re dripping for me.”

“Seonghwa,” you gasp, back arching.

He pushes the finger in. Slowly. Torturously. “You think one’s enough for you?” he asks, curling it just so. “Or are you gonna be a greedy little thing and ask for more?”

You’re already moaning his name, eyes wet, hands trembling. He adds a second finger without warning, stretching you open while his thumb circles your clit in lazy, teasing swipes.

“Every time you begged and bit your lip and walked away like a good girl, this is what I imagined,” he growls. Then his fingers leave you completely.

His fingers withdraw slowly from your dripping heat, and he chuckles darkly when your hips lift off the bed, chasing him. “No. No, no,” he tuts, dragging his slick fingers up your stomach, up to your lips. “You don’t get to grind up against my hand like some needy little brat.”

He presses those soaked fingers into your mouth, firm and controlling. “Suck.”

You do. You’re eager, moaning around his fingers as your tongue swirls over the taste of yourself, cheeks hollowing like it’s instinct. And it is. Because you’re hungry. Starved. And he’s all you’ve ever wanted.

“God, sweetheart” he groans, his jaw tight as he watches. “You don’t even know how fucking perfect you are like this. You’re gonna ruin me.”

You know he’s teasing you. You know he’s making you wait for him to fill you up but, gosh. Somehow you never want this to end. Him touching you, tasting you, teasing you. It’s all worth it.

“Get back,” he says lowly, voice a dark command as he stands at the foot of the bed. “Hands above your head. Keep them there.”

You obey instantly. He watches you for a moment, clothed from the waist down while you're half-naked and trembling beneath his gaze.

He tosses the belt to the side with a quiet thud, then removes his shirt completely. His chest rises with each breath, toned and golden under the warm lighting, his veins prominent down his arms, jaw tight from restraint.

“You know how long I’ve wanted this?” he mutters, voice rougher now, his control thinning. “Weeks. Weeks of you crawling into my lap, whispering pretty little things, looking up at me with those eyes like you had no idea what you were doing.” He steps back between your legs. “And I didn’t touch you. Because I respected your rules. I waited.”

“But now look at you,” he murmurs, eyes dark. “Finally laid out the way I’ve wanted you. Needy, soaking, begging for me.” He starts undoing his jeans, slow and deliberate, making a show of it.

You whimper his name, thighs instinctively rubbing together for friction.

He sees it. “Don’t,” he snaps. “Don’t move unless I tell you to.”

You freeze. He smirks.

Jeans open, he slides them down his hips, leaving only his black briefs, soaked at the tip, the outline of his cock pressed tight against the fabric. And he takes his time climbing back onto the bed, crawling over your body until he’s hovering over you.

“You want me inside you?” he whispers, voice low like a secret. “You think you’ve earned that?”

You nod quickly, lips parted. “Yes-, yes, please-”

His hand shoots out, wrapping firmly around your throat again, thumb pressing just enough to make your breath catch.

“You ready?” he asks, voice deeper, ruined. “You ready for me to fuck you like I should’ve the first night?”

“Yes, please Seonghwa-”

He cuts you off with a hard kiss, tongue claiming your mouth again. But when he pulls back, he goes to place kisses everywhere he can. Your cheeks, your jaw, your forehead, below your ear, your neck. In the midst of his dominance, he still takes time to worship you, make you feel safe. Feel loved.

“Holy fuck,” he growls. “You’re so fucking perfect.”

He kisses you all the way down your stomach. And then, finally, he slides one hand between your legs again, pushing your panties aside, and spits down on your cunt, slow and filthy, fingers immediately spreading the mess over your clit in deep, slow circles.

You cry out, body jerking, but his free hand slams down on your hip to hold you in place.

You’re a wreck. Sweat slicking your skin. Lips parted. Nails digging into the sheets as if that’s the only thing keeping you on this plane of existence.

“You want me to ruin you, my love?” he whispers, finally dragging his tongue over your clit, once, slow, cruelly gentle. “Want me to fuck you like you’ve always belonged to me?”

“Yes,” you cry, high and broken and wrecked. “Please, Seonghwa-, I’m yours, I’m yours, I swear-, just take me, take me-”

He watches you squirm beneath him, the heel of his palm rolling slow, relentless circles over your clit while his fingers just barely dip between your folds.

“You like this?” he whispers, voice like silk over gravel.

You whimper. It’s not even a yes, it’s just sound now, your body too wound up to form words.

And he knows it. His fingers are relentless but never fast, just deep, slow pressure, teasing you right up to the edge.

And then stopping.

Again.

“Seonghwa-, please-” You’re full-on begging now, thighs shaking.

He grinds his cock slowly against your skin, still clothed, letting you feel how hard he is.

Your moan cracks into a sob as his fingers slip away again, leaving you soaked, trembling, and painfully empty. And Seonghwa just smiles.

“That’s it,” he says, voice low and wrecked. “Beg like that. You’ve been making me suffer for so long, baby. Do you know how many nights I lay in bed with your taste still on my lips and my cock in my hand?”

He drags two fingers along your thigh, smearing spit and slick in slow, idle patterns.

“You'd text me goodnight like nothing happened,” he growls, eyes flicking to yours. “Pretending you didn’t grind on me till you came. Acting like I wouldn’t have ripped those panties off if I had half a chance.”

His voice is slipping now. Rougher, lower, needier.

“Look at me.”

You do. Wide-eyed. Drenched.

“Open your legs.”

You obey without thinking, and he grins.

“Good fucking girl.”

He rises to his knees, finally shoving his briefs down and off. His cock springs free, hard, heavy, flushed at the tip. And your body arches before you even realize it, your thighs shaking at the sheer sight of him.

But still, he pauses.

Gripping his cock at the base, he strokes it slow, dragging his palm up and letting his spit drip onto the head before working it down again.

“You want this?” he says through gritted teeth. “Want me to fuck you till you forget your own name?”

You nod, breathless. “Yes-, God, yes, Seonghwa, please-”

He grabs your hips, drags you down the bed toward him. You feel the head of his cock press between your folds, finally, finally there. He rocks forward, just enough to sink in a little—

And then stops. Not even halfway.

You scream. “Seonghwa-!”

He leans down, mouth by your ear. “You’re mine.”

And then, without warning, he slams the rest of the way in.

Your cry breaks into a choked gasp, back arching hard off the bed. He’s deep, impossibly deep, and already moving, dragging out slowly, then slamming back in, harder. Again. And again.

“Is this what you’ve been teasing me for? Driving me crazy, wearing those tight little jeans, grinding on my lap, acting like you didn’t know what you were doing?”

Your words come out in broken moans. “Yes, yes-please, don’t stop-”

“Oh, baby.” His hand wraps around your throat again. “I’m not stopping.”

And he doesn’t. He fucks you like he owns you, filthy, hard, punishingly slow at times just to make you sob.

But the whole time, he’s in control.

Grinning when you beg.

Groaning when your body clenches down.

“You feel so good,” he murmurs, his voice low and full of reverence, as if he’s worshipping you even in this moment. He pulls out just enough to make you whine, only to slam back in with a force that makes you see stars.

“Seonghwa, please… please…” you cry out, desperate for release, your voice breaking with need. “I need you-, please, don’t stop…”

Seonghwa doesn't waste another second. He moves with a kind of urgency, yet his every action is precise, deliberate. He pulls you into him again, lips crashing against yours in a deep, desperate kiss. His hands are everywhere, tracing every curve of your body like he's memorizing it, every touch stoking the flames of your need.

His hand doesn’t leave your throat as he shifts you, rough but careful, guiding you down with an edge of possessiveness that leaves you dizzy. "Turn over," he growls against your ear, voice dark, ragged. “Face down. Now.”

You obey, breath catching, and he helps you onto your stomach. His hands are everywhere, gripping your hips, dragging your body back to him, not even giving you a second to fully settle before he’s inside you again, thick, hot and unrelenting.

“He might be your husband on paper” Seonghwa murmurs, dragging his palm up your back, nails grazing your skin. “But you’re mine in every other way.”

He grinds his hips slow, purposefully, just to feel your reaction. You let out a needy sound and he chuckles darkly. His hand grabs your wrist and pins it to the mattress. Then the other. His palm presses down between your shoulder blades, holding you there as he places kisses on your back. “You don’t have to do anything. Just lie back and let me worship you like you deserve.”

He pulls out so slowly you want to scream, the stretch of him leaving you hollow, empty, until he slams back in.

“Fuck, Seonghwa-, you’re so good-”

“You like when I fuck you like this, huh? When I can't get enough of you?” he pants, voice right at your ear now, body flush to yours, pinning you down completely. Then his free hand snakes around your throat again, tight and possessive. “Say it. Say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” you gasp, the words ragged, broken, desperate.

“That’s right,” he snarls, pace shifting again, slow, torturous, dragging every inch of himself out before slamming back in. “You fucking are.”

And god, he doesn’t stop. Doesn’t let up. The sound of skin meeting skin, the slick, messy wetness of it all, it’s obscene. He’s filthy, ruthless, a man starved, and finally allowed to feast. And yet… through all the roughness, there’s something deeper, rawer.

His pace becomes more erratic, more frantic, as though he can’t hold back any longer. His hands are everywhere now, gripping, squeezing, marking. Each movement is purposeful, designed to make you feel owned, cherished, in the most deliciously painful way.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he grinds out, his voice a low rasp. Your body is trembling beneath him, your breath coming in desperate gasps, and he watches, enraptured by the way you fall apart for him, piece by piece.

You can feel your release building, so close. “Please,” you gasp, barely able to keep your eyes open. “Seonghwa… please… I’m so close.”

He chuckles, dark and low, as if he’s savoring every second of your desperation. “That’s it, that’s my girl. So good for me. Always so good for me.”

He drives into you again, deeper than before, the words setting you off completely. Your body goes rigid with the force of it, your back arching into him, every inch of you trembling.

And that’s when he finally, finally, lets go.

He pulls you into him, one arm wrapped tightly around your waist, his hand back on your throat, guiding you through your release as his own crashes over him. His grip tightens on your skin, marking you, holding you there, as if he never wants to let you go.

Your body trembles beneath him, legs weak, breath coming in stuttering waves as the final crash of pleasure still echoes through you. Seonghwa is barely holding himself together, buried deep, groaning low and broken against your skin as he spills inside you, gripping your hips like he’s anchoring himself to reality. His whole body is tense, desperate, surrendering.

But the second it’s over, the shift is immediate.

He exhales shakily and gently lowers himself down, his weight easing over you like a warm blanket. His arms come around you instantly, protective, careful, not a single trace of that merciless dominance left in his touch now. He kisses your shoulder, your back, your spine, all soft, slow, reverent. Like you're something sacred.

He eases out of you with utmost care, kissing the center of your spine before whispering, “Don’t move. I’ll be right back, my love.”

The bed shifts as he leaves, and you lie there, boneless, dazed, heart thudding against your ribs, not just from the intensity, but from the weight of the moment. This meant something. It always did.

When Seonghwa returns, his touch is impossibly tender. He kneels beside you and gently rolls you onto your back, using a warm cloth to clean you, every movement slow, soothing, reverent. Not a word is spoken, but his eyes never leave yours, and they say everything.

You reach up to touch his face, but he catches your wrist and presses a kiss to the inside of it, then your palm, then each fingertip.

“I’m sorry I was rough,” he whispers, like the thought alone tortures him.

You shake your head. “You weren’t… not in a bad way. You knew what I needed.”

His arms tighten. “Still… I want to take care of you. Let me take care of you now.”

He finishes cleaning you up and disappears for a moment again. When he returns, he climbs under the covers and pulls you into his arms, your head tucked beneath his chin, your body cradled tight against his chest. He wraps himself around you like he’s trying to protect you from the rest of the world. Like maybe if he holds you tight enough, time will stop.

“I’ll remember this,” he whispers. “All of it. Every second.”

“I will too.”

There’s silence. Soft, heavy, laced with emotion too big for words. His hands roam your back in slow, calming motions. He kisses your hair, your forehead, your cheek.

“I wanted to be good,” he says. “Wanted to respect your boundaries. Your marriage. But every time you looked at me like that... I knew I’d never be the same.”

Your chest aches. You can’t help it, you curl closer.

“I don’t know how to be without you anymore,” you confess.

His arms tighten. “Then don’t be. Even if it’s just like this. Even if we’re pretending the world doesn’t exist.”

You nod, tears stinging your eyes. You don’t let them fall. Not tonight.

Because tonight isn’t for sorrow.

It’s for his hands, gentle as they explore your skin like a prayer. It’s for his voice, low and warm, humming soft nothings into your ear. It’s for his heart, beating steady beneath your cheek, a rhythm you’ll remember long after this ends.

It’s for the way he kisses you like you’re his whole world, even if he can’t keep you.

Even if he never could.

***

It had been a month since you finally caved. A month of living in the quiet space between reality and fantasy. Of pretending that time didn’t matter, that hearts couldn’t break if you just held each other tightly enough.

You and Seonghwa had taken that idea and run with it.

You’d spent almost every free moment in his orbit—lazy mornings tangled in sheets, late-night drives just to hold hands in silence, dinners you cooked together with music playing in the background and wine glasses left forgotten. You found parts of yourself again in his arms. Laughed like you used to. Kissed like you were starving. And Seonghwa, he loved you with the patience of a man who knew he might not get to love you forever.

Neither of you said it out loud. But you both knew.

You were still married, after all. Technically. Legally. Logistically.

And you found yourself, for the first time in a long time, wanting to go somewhere just to see someone’s face light up when you walked through the door.

That’s what led you here.

Late afternoon, just cool enough to wear a sweater, coffee cups warm in your hands as you step into Seonghwa’s office building. You haven’t told him you’re coming. You don’t want to give him a chance to say no. You just want to see him. To remind him that, even in the middle of his workday, he’s wanted. Missed. Thought about.

Of course you know the risk of seeing your husband here, but he usually leaves work before this time. The messages from your husband has grown sparse. Short check-ins about rent, reminders about trash day or Wi-Fi bills. He doesn’t ask where you were. Doesn’t seem to care. He’s always at her place, anyway.

So you stopped telling him where you were going.

You step into the elevator, heart thudding, watching the floors tick up one by one. You know which office is his.

You reach his office door and hesitate for a second, the smell of roasted beans curling up with the nerves in your chest. In one hand, the folder he forgot, left on the nightstand in the rush of morning kisses and whispered promises not to be late. In the other, two coffees from the little place you always stop at together. His favorite, made just the way he likes it.

The door to his office is cracked just slightly open. You push it gently, peeking your head inside.

He’s standing near the window, phone to his ear, one hand in his pocket as he speaks with that low, composed voice he uses when he is working. His jacket is gone, his tie loose, a few buttons undone. You watch him a second too long, how could you not?

He glances up mid-sentence and freezes when he sees you.

His eyes widen, then softens in that familiar way that always makes your stomach flip. A little stunned, then flooded with something warm and unspoken. He gives a quick, murmured goodbye into the phone, hanging up fast before taking a step toward you.

“You’re here,” he says, surprised, voice breaking into a grin. “What-”

“You forgot these,” you lift the folder. “Found them on the dresser. Figured you’d need them.”

“And I couldn’t resist bringing this,” you add, offering one of the coffees. “Because I’m incredibly generous. And also maybe I missed you.”

His laugh is soft, delighted, boyish. “You spoil me.”

“Only a little.”

Seonghwa steps forward, takes the coffee from your hand, but it’s your wrist he holds onto just a second longer than necessary, eyes lingering on your face like he can’t decide whether to speak or kiss you.

“I thought about you all day,” he murmurs, voice quieter now. “Kept thinking about this morning.”

“Me too,” you say, your tone just as soft.

His thumb strokes your wrist gently. “Close the door for me?”

The moment it clicks shut behind you, it’s like gravity pulls you straight into him. You don’t even think, your body moves on instinct, reaching for him just as he steps into you, one hand sliding to the small of your back, the other cradling your cheek as his lips find yours.

The kiss is slow, but only for a second. Then it grows deeper. Needy, familiar, warm. His mouth opens against yours like he’s trying to memorize the taste of you all over again, his hand tightening at your waist as you lean into him, letting your coffee press into his chest so your other arm could wrap around his neck.

“You should get back to work.” you whisper against his lips, breathless.

“You know how I feel when you’re playing the boss-card,” he murmurs, chasing your mouth again, lips brushing yours between words. “It’s dangerous territory.”

You giggle softly, tilting your head as he nuzzles into your neck, kissing the skin there like it was his favorite secret. His hands roam gently, still careful even as his mouth betrays just how much he has missed you.

“I shouldn’t stay long,” you whisper, not meaning a word of it.

“Then let me be quick,” he teases, breath hot against your jaw.

“You never are,” you whisper, tugging him closer.

But when he finally pulls back, there’s something lingering in his gaze. A shift. A decision.

“I’m leaving,” Seonghwa says softly.

You blink. “What?”

“I’m done for the day.” He sets his coffee aside, already reaching for his suit jacket. “I’ve been working non-stop. I miss you. Let’s get early dinner.”

Your heart flutters. “Are you sure?”

He shoots you a smile over his shoulder. “I’m the boss, remember?”

You laugh, watching him tidy a few files with one hand while he slips his watch back on with the other. Within minutes, he has everything locked down. Then he comes to you, lacing his fingers through yours like it’s second nature.

“Ready, my love?”

You nod, warmth blooming in your chest as he opens the office door.

You walk down the hall together, hand in hand, every step light and quiet like the world belongs to you both for just a little longer. But when the elevator dings, and you stand waiting for it to arrive, Seonghwa turns toward you again.

His hand slips to your waist, the other brushing your cheek as he leans in. This kiss is different. Slower, deeper, something molten in the way his mouth lingers on yours. It curls your toes, sends a hum through your chest, and leaves you dizzy.

And then…

“Y/N?”

The voice cuts through the air like glass.

You freeze.

Seonghwa’s lips are still brushing yours when your eyes fly open and see your husband standing several feet away.

He’s alone. No colleagues in sight, no buffer. Just him… and the truth he had clearly just walked in on. His gaze flickers between your face and Seonghwa’s. Down to your hands. Back to your lips. His mouth opens, but no words come out.

He clearly didn't expect this.

You step back instinctively, like space might soften the blow. “I-”

“That’s him?” he cuts in, voice sharp. “That’s who you’re seeing?”

Your mouth opens, but nothing comes. You can’t find your voice. You haven’t prepared for this, this collision of both your lives, here, now, in the open.

His eyes widens, expression laced with disbelief. “You’re dating him?” He asks again. “Jesus Christ, Y/N. My boss? You’re screwing my boss?”

“Watch your tone.” Seonghwa’s voice cut through the tension like steel. He steps forward slightly. Not aggressive, but protective. Firm.

Your husband’s eyes snap to him. “You know she’s married.”

“I do.” Seonghwa’s expression didn’t waver. “I also know she’s in an open marriage. A situation you created.”

You take a shaky breath, trying to speak, but no words come. You can’t do this here, not like this.

Seonghwa turns and sees the way you’re frozen. Hands shaking, eyes glossy, lips parted like they wants to move but can’t.

“We’re leaving,” he says simply, gently tugging your hand.

Your husband looks like he wants to say something else, but he doesn't. Not as Seonghwa leads you into the elevator, wraps you under his arm protectively, and hits the button.

The doors slide shut, and just like that, you’re gone.

The door shuts behind you both with a soft click, muffled by the sheer stillness of the apartment. It should feel safe, it usually does, but now the silence only makes your thoughts louder.

You step in a few paces, drop your bag on the floor, and turn around like you don't know where to go next.

“I messed everything up,” you say in a breath, voice shaky. “I didn’t even say a word, I just stood there,- God, his face, Seonghwa, he knows.”

Your fingers tremble at your sides. You can’t stand still. The panic keeps bubbling up, sharp and sudden, and you drag a hand through your hair like that would slow your racing mind.

Seonghwa says nothing at first. He simply watches you for a moment, letting you unravel, but stays close.

“It wasn’t supposed to go like this,” you whisper. “We were careful. We-, he wasn’t even supposed to be there. What if-, what if he tells someone? What if it-”

He reaches for you before you can spiral further, large hands settling on your shoulders with calm, grounding weight. “Hey,” he says gently. “Look at me.”

You do. Barely. Your eyes are glossy, your chest rising and falling in quick bursts.

“Come here,” he murmurs, pulling you into him.

Your hands curl into the fabric of his coat without thinking. His warmth surrounds you, steady and quiet. His touch isn’t desperate, it’s reassuring. Calm.

“I know it’s a lot,” he says into your hair, rubbing a hand down your back. “But you didn’t do anything wrong. We didn’t do anything wrong. Okay?”

You say nothing, only shake your head into his chest.

“What if he doesn’t approve of this?” you whisper. “Of you. Of you being the one I’m seeing.”

His hand pauses for half a second, then resumes its slow strokes down your spine. “I don’t know.”

Your phone buzzes in your pocket.

You pull back enough to check the screen.

Husband: Can we please talk?

Seonghwa doesn’t ask questions when you read the text aloud to him, voice barely above a whisper.

“I have to go,” you say, voice cracking slightly. “I need to talk to him.”

He nods once, the motion slow. Measured. “I know.”

You shift your weight, swallowing thickly. “I’m,-” The words tangle in your throat. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Seonghwa says gently. “This was always something you had to do.”

You step closer, eyes searching his face. “I hate that this is how it’s happening.”

“I know,” he says again, quieter this time. “But you’re not alone.”

He brushes your hair behind your ear with the softest touch, his fingers lingering a moment longer than necessary. His thumb grazes your cheek like he’s trying to memorize every inch of you before he lets you go.

“Do you want me to take you?” he asks, voice low and warm.

You hesitate, then nod.

You want to tell him he’s done enough, that you shouldn’t drag him deeper into this, but you can’t. Because a part of you wants that last moment. Wants to feel him close before you walk back into the house you’ve been slowly drifting away from.

The ride is quiet, headlights casting golden stripes across your face as the city rolls by. You feel like your heart is caged behind your ribs, thrashing to get out.

Seonghwa’s hand rests near the gearshift, close enough to touch. And for a moment, it brushes yours. Not by accident. His pinky hooks lightly with yours, just enough to say I’m here.

You don’t speak the rest of the way. But somehow, you feel everything. When the house comes into view, your breath catches. The porch light is on. His car is in the driveway.

Seonghwa pulls up without a word, letting the engine hum quietly as you sit frozen in place.

“You want me to stay here?” he asks gently, breaking the silence.

You look at him, hesitating for a moment. “I think I’m okay.”

“Good” he says, offering you the faintest smile, soft and sad and full of love he won’t say out loud. “But if you need me, I’ll be back before you can even unlock your phone. Okay?”

Your throat tightens. You can only nod.

Then, without thinking, you lean across the console and press your lips to his. Brief, but full of every unspoken thing between you. It’s not goodbye. It can’t be. Not yet.

You pull back, and he’s still looking at you like you’re the only reason he knows how to breathe.

“Go,” he murmurs, voice tender. “Do what you have to do.”

You step out into the fading light, the front door looming ahead, your heart thudding with every step. As you reach the front door, you look back as Seonghwa one last time before entering your home. The home you’ve shared with your husband of 8 years. The door closes behind you and there he is.

Your husband is standing there. Hands in his pockets. Face unreadable.

But his eyes, his eyes were full of questions.

You stand in the hallway, your fingers still curled around the handle, your heart pounding so hard it almost drowns out the silence.

You don’t know what to expect. An argument, questions, maybe even cold indifference. But what you don’t expect is him suddenly kneeling to the ground, helpless, in the middle of the floor, shoulders slumped, hands clasped like he doesn’t even know how else to hold himself. It’s like he’s unraveling right there, like pride means nothing anymore.

You stare, stunned.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, more breath than sound. “For everything.”

Your throat tightens. You don’t know if it’s anger or sadness, or the crushing weight of what this moment might mean.

“I never should’ve asked for an open marriage,” he continues. “It was stupid. So fucking stupid. I-, I thought I wanted space. I thought maybe we could be happier that way, that I was giving us a better chance by letting things feel… open.”

His voice cracks. He lifts his gaze and it guts you.

“When I saw you with him today and I-” His breath shudders. “I didn’t know it would be him,”

He shifts forward slightly on his knees, reaching out like he wants to touch your hand but doesn’t dare.

“Please,” he whispers. “Let me try again. I’ll end things with her. I’ll be the husband I should’ve been. I’ll do anything. Just don’t walk away from me.”

And god, part of you wants to fall into his arms. He’s your husband. The man you’ve loved for 8 years. The one who now looks more broken than you’ve ever seen him.

But another part of you aches for what this means.

Because Seonghwa’s face flashes in your mind. His voice. His touch. The way he looks at you like you hung the stars, like he’s trying to memorize every second you give him because he knows you were never his to keep.

Your husband is still kneeling. Still waiting. Desperate. Tear-streaked.

You bite your lip so hard it hurts.

“I…” you begin, voice trembling. “I need time. Time to think”

A pause. Then a small nod from him, like he’s afraid to ask for anything more.

But in your chest, something stirs. Something terrifying.

Because no matter what you choose… someone’s heart is going to break.

And maybe it’ll be your own.

***

The house feels hollow. The evening's darkness is casting over your house like the feelings inside of you.

Your husband is still asleep on the couch. Or maybe he’s just pretending. You don’t ask.

You didn’t sleep. Not really. Just laid there in your bed, the one that used to be yours and his, but also once, without your permission, became hers too. The silence between you and him was unbearable. He offered the bedroom like it was a gesture of goodwill.

Your chest still feels tight as you stand in the hallway now, jacket in hand, shoes barely laced. You write a note. Nothing dramatic. Just I need some air. I’ll be back later.

You don’t know when “later” is. You just know where you need to be.

Seonghwa opens the door before you even knock. It’s like he knew.

You’re met with the smell of tea, the warmth of his apartment, and his eyes, dark with concern.

“Hey,” he says softly, voice like a balm. “You okay?”

You nod once.

Then your lip trembles.

And he knows.

“Oh, sweetheart…” he murmurs, stepping forward just as your breath hitches.

You try to stay composed. You really do. But then his arms are around you, pulling you into his chest, and the weight of everything presses down so hard it feels like your knees might give out.

You collapse into him, arms locked around his waist, fingers fisting into the back of his shirt. His hand cups the back of your head, the other smoothing down your spine.

“I-I tried to be strong,” you manage, voice thick. “I wanted to be okay, but he-, he was on his knees, Seonghwa. He begged me.”

You feel him tense slightly, but he says nothing. Just holds you tighter.

“He said he’d end things with her. That he made a mistake. That I’m still his wife and he wants me back and-” You pull back just enough to look at Seonghwa, eyes glassy, voice cracking. “And I wanted to feel good hearing it. I did. But all I could think about was you.”

Something flickers in his gaze. Hope, maybe. Pain too. But he doesn’t speak. He just listens.

You sniff, trying to hold yourself together. “It’s not fair. It’s not fair to you. I know I’m hurting you by not knowing what I want and I hate it-”

“Hey,” he cuts in gently, thumb brushing beneath your eye. “Stop. I told you, I don’t want anything from you that hurts you to give.”

“But you-”

“I want you,” he says simply. “In whatever way you can give me. Even if that means just this. Being here, telling me what you’re feeling.”

Your throat tightens again, but this time it’s not just from sadness. It’s because of how safe you feel with him. How seen. How loved, even if he’s never said the words. You press your forehead to his chest and he just sways you gently in his arms, fingers tracing slow patterns along your back.

“I’m so lost, Seonghwa.” you whisper.

He exhales against your hair. “Then stay here. Just for a little while.”

And god, you’re tired of choosing. Tired of being torn.

But as his hand slips into yours and he leads you to the couch, pulling a blanket over your legs, tucking you in close like you’re the most precious thing he’s ever held, you know this much:

This man… this love… is real.

You don’t remember when the tears stopped. Or what time it is. Or how long you’ve been sitting here. The two of you sit curled into his couch like you’ve done so many times before. But this time, everything feels sharper. He’s cradling you with a kind of care that’s almost reverent, your legs stretched across his lap, your face tucked beneath his chin. You can hear his heart beneath your ear, slow and steady. He hasn’t moved since you sat down. He doesn't dare to.

His fingers are laced with yours, your thumb tracing a trembling path over the back of his hand. The blanket wrapped around your bodies makes it feel like the world outside has stopped. Like you're suspended in a fragile little moment where time can’t touch you. And yet... you know it will.

It’s you who speaks first. Your voice is hushed, barely more than breath. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

Seonghwa sighs gently through his nose, resting his chin on top of your head.

“I know,” he says. Just two words. No judgment. No bitterness. Just a quiet truth, laced with understanding.

You shift slightly so you can see his face, and he’s already looking at you, those dark eyes as warm and soft as ever, even now. You can see it in them: how much he adores you. How much this is killing him.

But you also see something else. A kind of resolve. One that terrifies you.

He brings your hand to his mouth and presses a kiss to your knuckles. Then another. Then he just lingers there, lips resting against your skin like he’s memorizing the shape of you. Like he knows this might be the last time.

And then, barely above a whisper, he says it.

“You should go back to him.”

The words slice through the quiet like ice water, and you freeze.

“What?”

He doesn’t meet your eyes at first. He’s staring down at your joined hands like it’s the only way he’ll get through this.

“You’re married.” he says slowly. “And he’s... trying. Maybe it’s too late, maybe it’s not. And I see you struggling to choose. I see it all over you.“

You swallow thickly, your chest cracking open.

His hand tightens just slightly around yours. “I don’t want you to look back one day and wonder if you made the wrong choice. If you left too soon. If I was just an escape.”

Your hearts drops.

“So let me make it for you,” he whispers, finally meeting your eyes. “Let me be the one who walks away. Let me be the bad guy, if that’s what it takes. Because I’d rather be the one who lets go than make you carry the guilt of choosing.”

You pull your hand from his, suddenly feeling cold. “Are you trying to push me away?”

“No.” His voice cracks, and it breaks everything inside you. “I’m trying to let you go before it hurts you more to stay.”

You hate how reasonable he sounds. You hate how selfless he is. You hate that he means it.

You shake your head, desperate. “Seonghwa, please-”

He smiles, but it’s the kind of smile that feels like the beginning of a goodbye.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” he murmurs. “I wasn’t supposed to be more than a brief chapter in your life. And I was okay with that. I was. Because even if I couldn’t be forever, I still got you shortly. And I would do it all again, even knowing it would end.”

His voice cracks. But he keeps going.

Your throat burns. Your vision blurs.

“I let myself dream about it, you know,” he says softly, an empty laugh escaping his lips. “About what it would’ve been like if you met me first. If there wasn’t already a ring on your finger. But I know this isn’t about what I want. It never was.”

He brings your hand to his lips again, presses a trembling kiss to your fingers.

“So go back to him,” he murmurs. “You deserve a chance to fix what you had. To see if there’s still love waiting for you there. And if there is… don’t look back. Don’t wonder. Just go.”

You finally whisper, “But why-”

“Because I love you,” he says, cutting through everything.

It’s the first time he’s said it.

The first time you’ve heard it.

His voice wavers, just a little, but he doesn’t look away.

“I love you,” he says again, softer. “And I know I’m being incredibly selfish by saying that to you right now, because I don’t wanna make things harder for you. But I do. I didn't want to confuse you, or make you feel like you owed me anything. But I need you to know.”

His eyes shine, but he’s still holding it together. Just barely.

“I love you,” He leans his forehead gently against yours. “And I would give anything to be the one you stay with. But if I really love you… then I have to do what’s best for you. Even if it breaks me.”

Tears prick at your eyes, sharp and sudden. He gives you a faint smile, and it’s the saddest thing you’ve ever seen.

“Why does this feel like punishment?” your voice cracks.

His eyes soften even more, somehow. “Because loving someone you can’t keep always does.” his thumb drags over your cheek, removing a tear from your eye.

And the silence that follows is unbearable. A crushing, yawning void between your heart and his. You want to scream. You want to run. You want to disappear into his arms and never have to come back to the reality that waits for you outside this room.

You want a world where you don’t have to choose.

But that world doesn’t exist.

Not for you.

Not for him.

“I don’t know if I can say goodbye to you,” you whisper, barely audible.

“Then don’t,” he murmurs. “Not yet.”

His hand lingers on your cheek like it’s memorizing every line. Every softness. Every trace of the life you almost had.

And then, without a word, because words don’t work anymore, you lean in.

And so does he.

Your lips meet in the quietest, saddest kiss of your life.

His lips move like he’s trying to tell you everything one last time. Like he’s writing all his unsaid I love yous into your skin. Like this moment has to hold every second he’ll never get.

You fall into him, legs curled up tighter, arms around his neck like a lifeline. His fingers thread into your hair as if he can anchor you there, just a little longer. Like maybe if he kisses you softly enough, sweetly enough, the universe will change its mind.

But the universe doesn’t.

And he knows it.

And when you finally pull back, just enough to look at him. He’s crying, quietly.

Still holding your face like you’re something precious.

Still loving you as you let him go.

“I’ll never stop loving you,” he says, barely audible. “Even when you forget the sound of my voice. Even when he holds your hand. When he gets to fall asleep next to you. When your life goes on…”

Your breath shatters.

You’re sobbing now, silently. Your chest aches. Your whole body aches.

He presses the softest kiss to your cheek, your jaw, your forehead, like he’s saying goodbye to every part of you, one last time.

“I hope he knows,” Seonghwa whispers, voice broken. “I hope he knows he gets to keep the heart I would’ve spent my whole life protecting.”

He doesn’t say anything else.

He just lets you go.

Because he loves you too much to make you choose.

And that’s what real heartbreak sounds like.

Silence.

TAGLIST: I only have one main taglist, so if you wish to be added/removed, then let me know! xx

@lveegsoi @vixensss @yizhou-time @imgenieforyou-boy @life-is-a-game-of-thrones @ateezswonderland @cozypaint @blutiny @aerangi @arigakittyo @femaholicc @queenofdumbfuckery @mingiatz @hwaskookies @vent-stink @desanslogique @taestrwbrry @hannahstacos @tinyteezer @gold--gucciempress @zhangyi-johee @sunnysidesins @spenceatiny18 @yunhoswrldddd @beljakovina @soso59love-blog @trivia-134340 @skzfangirl143 @spicxbnny @h0rnyp0t @mingimangomu @no-nottoday @roguesthetic @hwas-star @tsuukamori @londonbridges01 @nayutalvr @purplelady85 @lover-ofallthingspretty @awkward-fucking-thing @luvbgy @thuyting @p1ecetinyzen @eumpappasmom @marsofeight @maidens-world @girlblogger-04 @renapersa @lol-imtrash2000 @melitadala @yoonglesbae @bby-boo4u @babymbbatinygirl @dalsuwaha @diekleinesuesse @beccaskz @les4heeseung @oddin4ry @manu2004 @mingimangomu @intowxnderland @chaotic-floral @toxicstrawberries @musicconversedance @insanityz @therealcuppicake @darkdayelixer @soobieboobiebaby @thevintagefangirl

#ateez #ateez smut #ateez fluff #ateez au #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #kpop fanfic #ateez fic #atz fanfic #kpop smut #ateez seonghwa #park seonghwa #fanfic #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop fic #ateezedit

713 notes · View notes

muniimyg · 7 months ago

Text

♡ 02: how you talk so sweet when you're doin' bad things

series m.list // taglist

note: ahh !!! thank u all for all the love with pt 1 :) drama begins in pt 3 !!! enj their good moments while it lasts (aka this pt) lmk what u think of their dynamic & if u have any predictions for whats to cum ;) HAHAH mwaaa

also !! happy birthday @jkslvsnella 🌟 thank u for always reading and loving my work 💛

warnings: mean!jk exposes oc (she's a virgin) ,, banter

the dim neon lights of the arcade cast a playful glow over the group as they gather by the bar. laughter and overlapping chatter fill the air, but jungkook’s eyes dart toward the entrance, scanning every face that walks in.

he blinks, trying to recenter himself.

why the fuck is he waiting for you?

“do you guys want to play a hoop shoot round?” yoongi suggests, leaning lazily against the counter. “loser buys the next round.”

the guys snicker but agree. without much discussion, they begin heading toward the games, but jungkook lingers behind, hesitating to speak.

there’s a weird feeling that stirs inside him.

he wants to stay and wait for you—wants everyone to stay and wait for you (though he knows how ridiculous that sounds).

his mouth opens, about to call them back, when—

“___!” jimin’s voice cuts through the noise. “over here! great timing!”

jungkook stiffens, tilting his head and clearing his throat as he notices you walking in.

you weave through the scattered crowd, waving casually to the group. your jacket hangs lazily off one shoulder, your hair is slightly windswept, and your lips are parted, like you’re already preparing some half-assed excuse.

“you’re late,” jungkook mutters, his tone sharp as you greet the others with warm hugs and him with a smug smile.

“no shit, mr. know-it-all,” you shoot back, rolling your eyes before awkwardly shifting closer to him for a quick, half-hearted hug.

he doesn’t even unfold his arms, patting your back stiffly—once, twice, three times.

“whatever.”

“didn’t know you took attendance. god, what don’t you do?”

“be late,” he quips, voice clipped.

you scoff, pulling away and swatting his chest. “nerdy of you, but whatever. we all have to accept our flaws one day. acknowledging them is the first step, or so they say.”

“it’s courtesy to show up on time,” he snaps, leaning casually against a nearby pinball machine. his eyes rake over you like he’s trying to solve a puzzle he’s losing patience for. “figured you’d get lost or trip over your own feet.”

“oh, bite me,” you retort, stepping closer and crossing your arms. “maybe find something better to do than waiting for me, hmm? something better to do than—”

before you can finish, a rowdy group stumbles toward the air hockey table behind you, shoving their way through the already cramped space.

jungkook moves without thinking, his hands firm on your waist as he pulls you aside and switches places with you.

“move,” he says bluntly, his grip barely lingering before he steps away again.

you freeze, your words dying in your throat. the touch—the casual way he did it, the way his hands fit so naturally—throws you off. your heart stutters for reasons you can’t quite name.

“what are you—”

“you’re in the way,” he interrupts, already back to leaning against the pinball machine like nothing happened.

“shit, jungkook,” you manage, trying to sound unaffected. “you can’t just move me like that. i almost thought you cared about me.”

“would you rather get knocked into the air hockey table?” he says flatly. “didn’t think so.”

you narrow your eyes at him, brushing past whatever just passed between you.

“fine,” you say with exaggerated calm, stepping away. “thank you… i guess.”

“what was that?”

“i said what i said.”

“say it again.”

“no.”

“don’t make me beg for something i deserve,” he groans, his tone a mix of mock irritation and teasing.

you roll your eyes. “sure… i’ll say it again—for the right price.”

“oh?” his brow lifts, and he’s already following after you. “how much are you charging these days?”

you turn back to glare at him, making a face as he smirks.

what you don’t see, what no one else notices, is how closely jungkook walks behind you as you move through the crowd. his hand hesitates near your waist again before he drops it, settling instead for angling his body, subtly shielding you from the chaos of the arcade.

it’s instinctive, unconscious—a quiet sort of care that he’d never admit to. but it’s just how jungkook is when you aren’t looking.

the air buzzes with the sounds of arcade games—buzzers, dings, and conversation on top of conversation. by now, the group has gravitated towards the hoop-shoot machines, their competitive banter echoing as they took turns missing shots.

when nam joon’s ball bounces dramatically off the rim, nearly taking out jimin, they all collapse into laughter.

"okay, okay!" taehyung claps his hands. "before anyone gets concussed, let's take a group photo!"

everyone gathers in front of the machines, huddling close together. you find yourself standing beside jungkook, his towering figure crowding your space as the guys shuffle to fit into the frame.

“move in,” jin calls out, holding up his phone. “no dead space.”

before you can step away, taehyung and yoongi each grab one of your shoulders, pushing you into jungkook’s side. his arm brushes yours, and when you glance up, he’s already rolling his eyes.

"stop squirming," he mutters.

"stop breathing down my neck," you bite back, earning a stifled laugh from yoongi.

“not my fault you’re short as fuck.”

“what about me do you not have a problem with, nerd?”

just as jungkook is about to tell you off, hobi hits his stomach and hisses at him.

“shut the fuck up, smile, and—”

hobi bumps his hip with jungkook’s, causing him to lean closer to you. your head tilts and so does his. he clears his throat as he regains his balance. you continue to smile, pretending not to notice him looking at you.

as the group poses, jin snaps several photos before pulling the phone down to review the shots. as everyone leans in to check the screen, a chorus of teasing begins.

"aw, look at that!" taehyung says, his grin spreading like wildfire as he leans closer to the phone screen. "this is a moment for the scrapbook. you two look so cute together."

the corner of jimin’s mouth twitches as he leans over taehyung’s shoulder, squinting at the photo before letting out a dramatic gasp.

“wait, is this… is this our it couple debuting right here? how did we miss this? it’s always those fucking enemies to lovers stories that hit… this could be it. oh my god!"

yoongi, not one to miss a beat, smirks from the side.

“don't need to start. pretty sure the fanbase already exists.”

jin snorts. “don’t expose our late night conversations, bro. that’s our special bonding time.”

yoongi hisses at jin, smacking the back of his head for saying it so weird.

"someone call dispatch," nam joon adds, cackling. "they're going viral as we speak."

"you’re joking,” you groan, face already warming as the guys snicker. “stop acting like it’s some movie poster. it’s just a group picture and—look at that! jungkook is looking at me like i’m stinky.”

“you are stinky.” jungkook scoffs.

you shove him playfully. “shut up.”

“oh no, it’s definitely poster-worthy,” jimin chimes in, nudging jungkook’s arm as he grins like a proud parent. "you can practically feel the sparks flying. jungkook’s over there pretending to hate it, but look at his hand. hovering like it’s meant to be."

"right?” hobi quips. “look at the way he’s leaning into her—”

jungkook glares. “hyung, you pushed me—”

“—bro’s living the rom-com life and doesn’t even know it.” hobi finishes.

"yeah," yoongi deadpans, his lip curling in a mock-serious expression as he gestures vaguely at the photo. "what trope are you guys?”

"trope?" you snort, shooting a glance at Jungkook. “that’s going too far. i can’t be associated with him to that point. even angels like me have limits..”

"awh, don't ruin it," jimin teases. “you two look like you were made to stand next to each other. it’s fate, ___.”

"fate?" jungkook finally chimes in, his brow quirking as he scoffs. “more like bad luck. uglyass picture, by the way. jump-scare. trigger-warning. photoshop her out, please.”

his words are sharp, but the teasing rolls on, taehyung clapping jungkook on the back as he leans in closer.

“don’t fight it, man. just admit it—you’re glowing.”

“you’re drunk.” jungkook grumbles, crossing his arms.

but even as he tries to brush it off, you catch the way his jaw ticks, the way his ears turn a faint shade of red. it almost makes you want to keep the teasing going.

almost.

you stretch over and take a proper look.

your shoulders are pressed against jungkook’s, his hand awkwardly hovering near your back as if unsure where to put it. it’s ridiculous, but you decide to lean into the joke.

“awh,” you say, nudging him with a smirk. “wait. we do look cute together. look at you—nerdy boy finally getting close to the pretty girl. must be the highlight of your life.”

jungkook’s jaw tightens, and for a second, you think he might just let it slide. But then, his eyes narrow, and the smugness in his tone cuts deeper than you expect.

“yeah?” he says, his voice low and dripping with sarcasm. “because the pretty girl who’s still a virgin at twenty-four is such a catch, right? must be fun carrying the weight of no guy ever wanting that kind of pressure.”

the air stills.

“what?” jungkook asks, unsure of why everyone’s mood suddenly shifted. “guys, we don’t need to hold ___’s hand for this. her situationships aren’t real. no guy wants her and it’s because of all her fucking issues… so don’t tease me about shit like that. why would i want her? she’s too fucked up.”

your heart sinks as the laughter dies around you, the guys exchanging awkward glances. you force a tight smile, shrugging as if the jab didn’t just land in the worst way possible.

“ha… ha… yeah. sure. what he said,” you mutter, slipping out of the group without looking back.

you weave through the crowd, the din of the arcade becoming background noise to the rush of your thoughts. yoongi and nam joon sigh and excuse themselves to follow you.

“fuck,” taehyung groans at jungkook. “for a nerd, you aren’t that smart."

jungkook throws his head back.

"okay, fine. i went too far."

taehyung forces a laugh and pats jungkook's shoulder. "i just... i don't why do you always shit the bed when it comes to ___. would it kill you consider her feelings once in a while?"

"she started it—"

"we started it," taehyung corrects him. "you fuck it up and then we have to fix it. why can't we start it and you figure it out?"

"what's there to figure out?"

taehyung sighs.

"seriously, what's there to figure out?" jungkook repeats, his voice rough with frustration, though there’s a slight tension in his jaw, as if he’s trying to keep himself in check.

taehyung runs a hand through his hair like he’s had this conversation a million times before. “you overthink everything, man. just… talk to her. it’s not that hard.”

jungkook scoffs. "i talk to her."

"yeah right," taehyung shoots back, now leaning in closer, his eyes narrowing with a mixture of concern and exasperation. "she isn't gonna stick around forever... especially with all the shit you pull. is it that hard to show that you care for her? even just a little bit? you can even fake it for all we care... just... stop doing this. stop fucking it up."

jungkook opens his mouth to retort, but then he just...

doesn’t.

he falls silent, his gaze drifting over to where you’re standing, still laughing with yoongi, oblivious to the conversation happening behind her. his expression softens for a moment, but the tension doesn’t fully leave his shoulders.

“... i don’t know what to say to her,” jungkook mutters after a long pause, his voice quieter this time, almost vulnerable.

taehyung rolls his eyes, his voice taking on a teasing edge again.

"i'm not asking you to be perfect," taehyung says, his tone suddenly serious. "i just want you to try.”

jungkook's eyes narrow, but he doesn’t argue.

he knows taehyung’s right.

and the idea of trying—really trying—is both terrifying and somehow comforting. it’s just a matter of taking the first step.

"alright, alright. i get it." jungkook sighs, running a hand through his hair. "but if i mess it up again…"

“you will,” taehyung says with a grin, smacking him on the back. “and when you do, we’ll be here to clean up your mess.”

jungkook groans. "great. thanks. god, you guys are impossible."

taehyung just laughs, clapping him on the shoulder.

"that’s what friends are for."

“that one’s cute,” you say softly, pointing to a pastel plushie trapped inside the glass case. “but aren’t these things rigged?”

yoongi glances at the plushie, then back at you, offering a faint smile. “hello kitty? can’t you just buy it in store?”

“it’s different.”

“how so?”

“winning it is better. means more.”

he laughs at you. ruffling your hair, he asks; “think you can win it?”

“probably not,” you admit with a dry laugh, rubbing the back of your neck. “i suck at these things.”

unbeknownst to you, jungkook has followed, lingering a few steps behind.

he watches quietly as you and yoongi chat, his arms folded across his chest, his usual cocky posture softened just enough to give off a more contemplative vibe. his gaze shifts to the hello kitty plushie you pointed out, taking in every detail—the soft pastel fabric, the little bow.

his jaw tightens.

for a second, he looks almost… distant. something flickers across his face—a mix of regret, maybe? or determination? it’s hard to tell, and he’s quick to push the thought aside. he can’t figure out why this damn hello kitty plushie is bothering him, but it does.

his hands shift in his pockets, fingers brushing against the cool edges of his arcade card. the sound of you and yoongi laughing lightly as you move on to a different machine pulls him out of his trance.

he’s still standing there, staring at the claw machine, his mind reeling.

get it together, he tells himself. it's a stupid fucking hello kitty plushie.

but as the two of you move further away, jungkook finds his feet taking him toward the claw machine. his body moves on its own, a subtle, almost unconscious determination settling into his posture. he steps up to the machine, his heart thumping a little louder than usual.

with a quick flick of his wrist, he taps the arcade card to the screen, paying for a round. The soft beep of the machine filling the air is oddly satisfying. he glances at the claw, watches it shift slightly in the plastic case, and his mind sharpens. the whole world narrows down to this one moment—the claw, the plushie, and the stupid, ridiculous thought that maybe, just maybe, it would mean something.

he leans in a little closer to the machine, his focus narrowing as his fingers hover just over the controls. his chest tightens, just a little.

but there’s something about this—about trying—that feels...

new.

almost like he's playing for something that’s not just a game.

as the arcade starts to empty out, the night comes to an end.

the group begins to break into separate plans. some were heading out for more drinks, the usual late-night crowd craving more chaos, while others, like you and jungkook, were heading home. yoongi, standing beside you both, clapped jungkook on the shoulder and offered a casual “see you later,” his eyes lingering a moment too long on the tension that still hung between you two.

by now, jungkook had tried to apologize multiple times throughout the night. too many times to count—but each time, you’d brushed him off, walking away before he could finish his words.

it was the same pattern that had played out earlier, with him following close behind, trying to make up for whatever had gone wrong, but you’d always managed to slip out of his reach, words left unsaid and apologies unacknowledged.

as you stepped outside into the crisp night air, the glow of neon signs casting faint colors over the sidewalk, you took a deep breath. the cool wind ruffled your hair, and you tucked a stray strand behind your ear, eyes darting to the ground, avoiding jungkook’s gaze.

“my hinge crush of the week wants to meet up… so, bye!” jimin called out, adjusting his jacket as he moved toward the waiting uber.

the others offered their farewells, the air filled with laughs and promises to meet again soon.

jungkook is quiet, his eyes still on you, a knot of frustration building in his stomach.

as you’re about to turn away, he finally speaks. his voice is soft but firm.

“can i drive you home?”

you don’t even look at him, a slight shake of your head as you took a step back.

“i’m good. thanks for the offer.”

he takes a slow step forward, determination flashing in his eyes.

“shit, ___. come on, don’t be like that. it’s late. i’m not letting you walk home alone.”

“i’m fine,” you reassure him again, taking another step away. “they’re all gone. you can stop pretending you care—w-whoa—“

but as you turn to leave, the way you step gets caught on a loose patch of pavement, and before you can stop yourself, you stumble forward. your heart lurches in your chest as your body lurches toward the ground.

but a strong and steady hand grips your waist, pulling you back against a solid chest.

“fuck, watch your step—” jungkook mutters, his voice lower now, a hint of something you couldn’t quite place in it. his grip tightened just enough to keep you from stumbling again.

you freeze for a second, your breath catching as his fingers brushed against your side, his body warm against yours. the shock of his touch sent a strange shiver down your spine, but before you could react, his voice comes again, this time with a soft but unmistakable smirk.

“you’re all out of choices now.”

his words hang in the air as he takes your waist, gently but firmly guiding you toward his car. the playful edge in his voice made your stomach flip.

he doesn’t wait for a response.

he pulls you closer as you walk together.

you want to pull away.

you want to protest, but something about the way he holds you—steady, unwavering—makes it impossible to do anything but follow.

so, you give in.

you slide into the passenger seat of jungkook’s car, the leather cold against your legs as you settle in. the familiar scent of his cologne fills the small space, mixing with the faint scent of his car’s interior. before you can even close the door, jungkook is already moving to the driver’s side, slipping in next to you with practiced ease.

he turns the key, the engine rumbling to life, and immediately, he leans over to help you with your seatbelt. his hand brushes against yours, sending a strange flutter through your chest as his fingers fumble with the latch, and you try not to think too much about how gentle his touch is.

“thanks,” you mumble, turning your head toward the window, avoiding his gaze.

the tension between you two still lingers, thick and heavy, but neither of you says anything, and soon the quiet hum of the engine fills the air instead.

the drive starts out like most others, the city lights blinking past the windows as jungkook takes a turn, his hands steady on the wheel. but then, as the cool night air seeps in through the slightly cracked window, you suddenly feel the chill of the evening air hit your skin, a shiver running down your spine.

you don’t even have to say anything. without a word, jungkook pulls off his jacket, glancing over at you.

“you cold?” he asks, his voice low, almost concerned, but his eyes are still focused on the road.

before you can respond, his white jacket is draped over your shoulders like a blanket.

it’s warm, soft—still holding the faint trace of his warmth—and for a moment, you find yourself frozen, not sure whether you should pull it off or accept the comfort. but it’s his gesture, the way he’s silently taking care of you, and the faint thought that maybe he’s not such an ass after all, that makes you just pull the jacket tighter around yourself, not saying anything.

the silence stretches on, with only the sound of his car’s engine and the soft tunes filling the air, low music that drowns out everything else.

it’s a little uncomfortable.

a little too close.

and yet, somehow, you don’t mind it.

minutes pass, and you can’t help but notice how the buildings are getting fewer, how the city streets are slipping behind, and suddenly, it hits you—he’s not turning into your neighborhood.

“wait,” you finally speak up, your voice sounding strangely foreign in the quiet car. “you just passed my place.”

he doesn’t even glance over at you, just keeps driving, his eyes focused on the road ahead.

“i know.”

“then where are you going?” you ask, trying to keep your voice steady, but a flicker of annoyance laces your tone. “jungkook, what the hell?”

“the only way for you to talk to me,” he says, his voice calm but with a touch of something else beneath it.

something you can’t quite place.

“what?” you blink, confusion clouding your thoughts. “this is considered kidnapping.”

jungkook chuckles, the sound low and almost playful.

“only way for you to talk to me, like i said.”

you narrow your eyes at him, a mix of frustration and something else building inside you.

“you’re seriously driving me around for what, exactly? to waste gas? to waste your time?”

“to wait for you.”

“oh my god,” you stress. “you and your fucking words.”

he smirks. “are they working?”

you gulp.

“come on, ___. act like a bitch all night, i don’t care… but you’re gonna talk to me.”

you’re quiet for a moment, staring out the window, watching the city blur past. the absurdity of the situation sinks in, but it’s also hard to ignore the fact that you’re starting to feel a strange sense of... comfort in his presence.

“fine,” you finally say, voice quiet but sharp. “what do you want me to say, huh? you’ve been apologizing all night and i’ve been brushing you off. you said what you said. it’s done.”

jungkook shifts in his seat, and for the first time, you notice how his grip tightens on the wheel, how his jaw clenches ever so slightly.

“keep talking.”

“i’m done.”

“no,” he insists. “i don’t care what you say… i just need you to talk to me, ___. that’s all.”

you don’t respond right away, not sure how to react to that admission, or if it’s even true. but the way his words hang in the air, the sincerity behind them, makes you want to crack open.

makes you want to say something—anything—but the walls are still up.

“do you want me to fuck you or something?”

your eyes widen and your throat goes dry.

what the fuck did he just say?

“excuse me?”

jungkook then pulls over, parking his car at some random street. his car lights and the lamppost nearby are the only light sources… but that doesn’t stop you from knowing how close he is to you. you don’t need much light—you feel it. you feel his presence.

“is that why your panties are in a twist? you need dick or something? you’ve been acting weird since you overheard me fucking—”

“i don’t want to know her name.”

jungkook blinks at you.

“... so you are bothered by her.”

you pause.

“n-no. no, i’m not. it’s just… weird. i don’t want to know because i don’t want to know.”

“okay,” jungkook nods. “can i know something then?”

you hesitate.

“do you forgive me yet? i… i fucked up. i’m sorry, __. seriously. that wasn’t cool of me.”

you take a breath in.

“i forgive you,” you admit. “but be honest with me. did you mean it?”

jungkook shakes his head profusely.

“no,” he confesses. “no, i didn’t mean it. i think it’s cute that you’re a virgin—”

“stop!” you cry, throwing your hands to cover your face. “shut up.”

he laughs, finding your panic a little cute.

“what? you never get horny?”

you drop your hands, completely dumbfounded at how this conversation has unfolded in a matter of minutes.

“i do,” you tell him.

“with what? with who?”

you tilt your head and squint at him.

“curious?”

“disgusted, actually.” he mocks you.

you can’t help but let out a laugh.

then, a silence falls upon you two.

but… it’s an okay kind. the kind where you two aren’t mad at each other and everything is truly lighthearted. it’s a rare kind of atmosphere for you two share.

the tension that had once been suffocating now feels more like a slow burn, simmering quietly in the space between you. it’s strange, this shift. but it’s also... comforting.

in a way, it’s like stepping onto solid ground after floating in the middle of an ocean for too long.

you glance over at jungkook, his profile soft in the dim light from the streetlamps. his fingers are gripping the steering wheel lightly, his knuckles slightly pale, like he’s trying to keep himself grounded too. he’s not saying anything, but his presence is loud. in some ways, that’s all you need.

that he’s here.

that you’re both here, together, after all the back and forth, all the words exchanged, the small cracks and the moments of silence.

the question comes out before you can stop it, and you almost want to take it back the second it leaves your mouth.

but you’re already committed.

"think i could do it?" you say, voice softer than you intended, more vulnerable than you meant.

jungkook shifts in his seat slightly, his eyes flicking toward you.

“do what?"

"get you to want me?"

for a split second, you think you’ve gone too far.

jungkook is quiet for a long time, and you can feel the weight of his gaze on you. he doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. it’s like he’s weighing the question, figuring out if you mean it. if it’s just some fleeting thought, or if you’re really standing here, raw and honest, in the middle of it all.

and then he speaks, his voice low but steady, a hint of something in it that you can’t quite place.

“why would you want that?”

the question catches you off guard, and for a moment, you’re unsure of how to respond. but then you think about it, really think about it.

"i don’t know."

the vulnerability is almost too much, too raw.

it feels like every inch of you is laid bare, exposed in a way you weren’t sure you could handle. you stare at your hands, anything to avoid the intensity of his gaze, but it’s there, lingering in the quiet air between you. it fills the space, like you can feel every word left unsaid pressing against your chest.

jungkook doesn’t say anything right away, the silence stretching long enough that you start to wonder if maybe you said the wrong thing. maybe you pushed too far, too fast.

but then, he speaks.

"wanna find out?"

his voice is low, almost teasing, but there's something else there too—something that makes your heart skip a beat.

you glance up at him, your eyes meeting his again, and you realize in that moment that this is where it all comes together. the question, the hesitation, the rawness of it all.

he’s not pulling away, not like you expected.

he’s waiting…

for you.

#bts series #jk fic #jungkook e2l #jungkook frenemies #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook fanfic #jk x yn #bts x yn #jungkook x reader

2K notes · View notes